PAIRINGS: Skull & Arcobaleno, Skull/Colonnello
TAGS: Pre-Canon, Canon Compliant, POV Third Person Limited
Angst and Feels, Suicidal Thoughts, Emotional Hurt/Comfort (but not always), Character Death (you know the one), Grief/Mourning
Immortality, Introspection, Arcobaleno Curse, Arcobaleno As Family, Fluff (some), Hopeful Ending, Skull-centric, Immortal Skull
Luce Friendly, Nonbinary Mammon | Viper
WARNING: Not Beta Read
Skull sits outside on the patio, alone, until he hears the glass door slides open behind him.
"Can I?" one of the two women he currently lives together with, works together with asks.
Skull doesn't answer her, but she silently sits next to him anyway. Not next to him on the other bench next to his, but next to him on the same bench. She sits close to him too like she's comfortable in his presence, like they're close, like they didn't meet only a couple of days ago.
It's the woman with the pretty flower-like tattoo on her cheek. Skull doesn't remember her name, and he should even if they met only a couple of days ago because there's only seven of them working on whatever this is going to be.
They met only a couple of days ago, but this isn't why Skull doesn't remember her name.
"I can see the future," she says. "Visions of the future."
It's a little cold, the covered patio keeping the sun from reaching them, but it's a cloudy and grey day anyway. There's no wind though the air feels like oncoming rain, smells like it too, and the still water of the fountain, greyish and murky blue instead of its usual shining and reflecting blue color turns the fountain into a pitiful sight to behold.
Skull likes sad and quiet days like this. It makes him sad too, and sometimes sadder than he already was, but it also quiets his mind just the same.
Skull says nothing, waiting for her to go on. He's not sure if she's waiting for him to say something, but he's willing to blindly trust her words. He's immortal, she can see the future, and people can use colorful, powerful and magical flames.
The world is anything but mundane, humans anything but ordinary, he would know.
"So I knew you before we even met," she continues, with what sounds like a small smile in her voice. "I saw you in one of my visions, kneeling in front of a grave, crying in front of it. Weeping in front of it. In front of my grave." She marks a pause, and when she speaks again, there's no smile in her voice anymore, "You were weeping like you might have loved me. Like you'll keep loving me even after this. Like you might have... forgiven me for it."
If the weight of the many lifetimes Skull's already gone through wasn't weighing down on him the way they are now, the way they've been for the last decades or so, he'd have jumped from his bench and ran away as far as he could without looking back. He might also have snapped at her first, in anger, in fear, in sorrow.
Skull lives in this house with these people because he hopes it'll distract him from the way the many lifetimes he's already gone through currently weigh down on him. He's here to work with them, to be their coworkers and their accomplices no matter how shady this whole job offer is. Nothing more.
Skull's not here to come to care for them to the point he'll end up weeping in front of their graves, and is not here to come to care for them at all.
Skull's not here so he can end up burying them, feeling like he buries a piece of him along with them.
Skull doesn't move from the bench, and says nothing. He feels nothing at her words either, which is a small mercy he's grateful for.
So he'll end up weeping in front of her grave, and what of it? It doesn't make her special. Skull has had to bury every person he's ever met, that's what he does. That's what he's always been doing, what he'll always do, and he can't bother wasting hurt feelings on it, not today.
"You have unbearably sad eyes, Skull. Has anyone ever told you that?" She's been crying, her eyes glistening, her eyelashes wet with tears, slight tears streaks on her cheeks. She intertwines her hands on her lap tightly, and it looks like it's hard for her to keep her eyes in his.
Skull has been told that before, of course, but he can count on the fingers of one hand how many people have told him that with that tone of voice. Like there's recognition there, an inkling of understanding.
Skull remembers those people, remembers their faces and remembers their names, because how could he not?
It's especially noteworthy she could do that though because she wasn't supposed to be able to notice, none of them are. Skull's been nothing but loud, cheerful and happy ever since he met them. He's not like that with her right now, but that's how he's been like until now because that's the way Skull is this time around. Loud, cheerful, and happy. Always loud, cheerful and happy.
He hoped it might help.
It doesn't.
"I'm sorry I'm only going to add to your sadness. To your pain."
"It's okay," he says, and a sob tears out of her mouth. Skull looks back at the backyard when she presses her hands against her mouth to muffle her tears.
So what if she's going to hurt him? That, too, doesn't make her special either.
Skull's hurt by everyone in this world by the mere fact none of them are like him. By the mere fact they exist now, but eventually and inevitably won't anymore, and the same can't be said of Skull. In that way he's hurt even by the people he's never met and will never get to meet, because them too will eventually and inevitably stop existing, leaving him behind.
So Skull's been hurt by everyone he's ever met and will be hurt by everyone he'll ever meet, that's what people do to him. Does it matter then if those same people purposefully go out of their way to hurt him?
"You're a good person, Skull. I'm so sorry it had to be you too."
"Not really, but I try to be. Nice to meet you too though. Hope we'll get along."
She laughs, a strangled sound mixed with her tears, so much more sad than happy, but she meets his eyes again. "Yeah. Nice to meet you too. Hope—" She bursts into tears, covering her face with her hands. She rests her head on his lap, her tears harshly wracking her body.
Skull gently strokes her hair. The sky has turned darker, the oncoming rain more obvious in the air. "You're a good person, lady."
He can tell.
She has unbearably sad eyes too.
"Good job today," she says, putting down his glass of water in front of him.
It's the dead of the night, and the kitchen's light is all the brighter when the rest of the mansion is in the dark, almost blinding. This time only two of them were needed for the mission, and it wasn't particularly hard or tiring, and Skull isn't really thirsty, but he'd still agreed to some water when she offered.
She stays standing next to him, looking at him, holding onto her own glass of water.
Skull doesn't remember her name. It's no fault of him trying not to either because it was awkward not giving away he doesn't remember her name as they worked on the mission. She might be the soldier of the group, he's pretty sure, but isn't certain of it.
"Of course," Skull says, grinning cheekily. "It's me we're talking about after all, but thanks."
She doesn't smile, instead purses her lips before smoothing them in a neutral line again. She squeezes his shoulder tightly, comfortingly. Too tightly too like she means to ground him, but he's already been slipping away before she could try to.
That's not like her, Skull remembers that about her.
Did something happen during the mission? To him specifically? Or did he do something?
Was it actually hard?
She said he did a good job though, so it mustn't be important, or didn't end up being important.
Skull can't tell, can't remember when he's been only going through the motions of whatever his life looks at the moment since long before they met, without taking notice of what those motions entail, let alone committing them to memory. It doesn't help, but it minimizes the chances of making things feel worse.
She takes a seat at the kitchen island too and sips her water, openly watching him and never averting her eyes from him.
Skull doesn't remember her name. He's grateful he can't, has been taking particular care to not come to remember any of their names, and hopes he never will right until they go their separate ways again. But it's particularly nagging him tonight that he can't.
It has to be a very human thing to be unable to stop thinking about the name on the tip of your tongue you can't remember the shape of even if you don't care to remember it, even if you don't want to remember it. To want to remember the name of a person when you know you should know it, especially when you have to interact with that person on a daily basis, when you live together with them. Especially when that person looks at you like they might care about you.
Funny which little human things stay with you, the ones no amount of time seems able to erase. Funny how mundane and insignificant they are, and how they cut Skull so deeply still, every time like the first time.
Skull can't remember her name among the many he's came to know, can't remember which of those names are hers. Skull's grateful he can't because he'll forget it anyway the way he forgot many of the names he came to know, and the way he'll forget the names he still remembers now and the ones already on the verge of disappearing from his mind entirely.
Skull ends up forgetting even the names of the utmost importance to him, names he once used to say as naturally as breathing, names he once used to say like they meant the world to him and were sacred.
Some of them did, and were.
He doesn't remember not even those names anymore, but always remember how much they meant to him, how they meant everything to him once upon a time, and always feels their loss as painfully as day one, if not more so as time passes. As time keeps passing.
Funny how that works.
"Is there something you want to ask me?" Skull raises his eyebrows. "You've been giving me that look all night. And you have yet to touch your water, by the way."
Ah. Awkward. Is she going to be upset if he asks her what her name is? "Oh," he says, then laughs. He looks down at his water, still doesn't touch it, and doesn't say anything else.
"That's fine," she says, standing. "But you can ask me anything whenever, just to be clear. If I don't feel like answering you, then I just won't."
"Okay. Thanks."
She nods. "Go to bed soon too."
"Okay. Thank you." It's only when Skull can't hear her footsteps anymore that he stands halfway, leaning his hands on the island. "Oh!" He looks after her, opening his mouth to call after her, to call her name. Maybe if she hears him say her name it'll lessen that look on her face she's been giving him all night. Skull sits back down. "Lal," he says to himself, for himself. "Lal Mirch."
That's her name, he's sure of it. It's a pretty name too.
But Skull eventually and inevitably forgets even the prettiest of names too.
Fon steps in front of him, hiding the body from his sight. They're in a rush, have to regroup with the others so they can leave the literal crime scene, but Fon's gentle and slow as he takes his hands in his. "Skull? It's okay, you're okay." He soothingly strokes the back of his hands along his wrists, and sometimes along his thumbs.
Skull's hands aren't shaking though. They're not tensed either. They don't even have blood on them. Of course not, Skull knows by now how to kill cleanly.
Skull's fine.
Can't Fon tell?
"Thank you for having my back, that was sloppy of me. That was very impressive of you though," he says, a smile in his voice. "It seems you and I ought to spar for real one of these days." He speaks so softly to him, it's funny.
Skull's fine.
Or is this about Fon?
Skull has killed before. Skull has fought in wars before. Skull's done terrible things with his hands before, both in cold-blood and while blinded by his emotions, both deserved and undeserved, both on battlefields and outside them.
Both mercifully by killing them, and cruelly by letting them live.
Both to other people and to himself.
Skull's fine with killing.
Isn't Fon supposed to be able to tell, as a killer himself? As one of the strongest killers in the world even. That's what that Checker Face guy said they are all, right?
Isn't Fon supposed to be able to tell by seeing it in his eyes or on his face or something? What happened to people of the same kind being able to recognize each other at first glance?
Ha. Skull can't believe books and TV lied to him all his life. What a letdown.
Fon squeezes his hands. "Skull? Look at me?" Fon looks worried all reassuring he tries to be, smiling. "It's okay, you're okay. You're okay, aren't you?"
Skull almost grins, but it might just make Fon worry more. "Yeah, I am. We should go before other people show up."
Fon doesn't move, and neither does Skull, looking down at the body again even if it's still hidden behind Fon.
Ah. Maybe it's because he keeps looking at it Fon worries about him. It's just envy though, like a bottomless pit inside him tearing at him with its jagged edges, perpetually leaving him bleeding out.
It's anger, resentment. Bitterness. Desperation.
How easy everyone else always makes dying look. Makes staying dead look.
What Skull wouldn't give to know what it feels like too.
"Skull," Fon says, squeezing his hands tighter, and he's not smiling anymore.
Skull's fine though, but of course Fon can't tell. They're not of the same kind, not him and Fon, not him and any of the others either, not him and anyone else. Skull couldn't possibly be a killer in the same way they are, nor could they ever even begin to understand what it's like to be a killer like him no matter how hard they'd try.
It hurts to know even if he knew they weren't ever going to be of the same kind, can't possibly be no matter what.
It always does.
It's unusual for Senpai to purposefully look for his company. He didn't say it's what he's doing, was never going to, but he sat on the armchair across from him instead of going to drink his coffee anywhere else.
If not that then the way he's been looking at him ever since, the way he openly and unapologetically tries to see through him is a dead giveaway.
"What were you doing?" he asks.
"Nothing."
"Like often. That's kind of creepy of you, just so you know. Has no one ever told you that?"
Skull laughs. "Maybe you just always catch me when I'm taking a bit of a break. Of course the Great Skull-sama is always extremely busy! That's why he's so great."
Senpai doesn't seem like he heard him, his eyes piercing into him. "There's something deeply wrong with you, Skull. Fess up, now."
"I'm immortal," Skull says for the thousand times, puffing his chest out, preening, and he gets a cushion to his face for it.
Okay, so he hasn't had to repeat it that often, but often enough. Is it so hard to believe? Then maybe Skull should let himself be killed during one of their missions so they can see it for themselves, but he'd loathe to, the mere thought of it making his stomach jolt.
Senpai uncrosses his legs to cross them again at his knees the other way. He rests his cup of coffee on his thigh, slightly tapping his finger against it in… irritation? Displeasure? "Yes, I believe it now." Skull's smile stiffens on his lips. That's not good. He's not supposed to believe it even now, isn't supposed to be saying it like that even now. Because Skull's always loud, cheerful and happy, and always boasts about his immortality like it's the one thing about him he's the proudest of. And as far as the others are concerned, it's all there should be to know about him. "What's my name, Lackey?" Senpai asks, smirking, and still his eyes are boring into him.
Skull huffs, rolling his eyes.
Senpai drinks his coffee, raising his eyebrow.
The silence stretches between them, surprisingly comfortable.
"Reborn."
It's subtle, but a real smile pulls at Reborn's lips behind his cup, relief flickering across his face. "That's right. And don't you ever forget it, got that?"
Skull chokes up, his eyes stinging, but a smile still pulls at his lips.
How cruel of him. Purposefully too, of course.
It's the cruelest he's ever been to him.
It's the kindest thing he's ever said to him.
"We'll see."
Reborn smirks. "Don't talk back, Lackey," he says, standing. "But the coffee's decent, so I'll let it pass this one time."
Colonnello snaps his fingers right in front of his face, and Skull slightly pulls back, raising his eyebrows. "You still with me?" he asks, grinning, but there's concern in his eyes.
It's even easier for Skull to notice it when Colonnello stands right in front of him like that, almost touching him.
Colonnello's been stepping into his space often lately, like he belongs there, and Skull's been letting him even if he shouldn't.
"Yeah."
"Yeah? Where are we then?" Skull turns his head to the side, or tries to, but Colonnello grabs his face to keep his eyes in his. They both laugh. "Nuh-uh, no cheating. Where are we?"
Skull huffs, pouting, but doesn't mean it.
Colonnello keeps his hands at either side of his face, loosening his hold into something softer, stroking his cheeks with his thumbs. Skull leans in the touch, resting his hands on his waist.
Colonnello's been touching him often lately too, like they're more than what they should be, than what Skull and the others are, like they're more than what Skull shouldn't have allowed them to become.
Skull's been letting him do that too even if he shouldn't, has been indulging himself in it and seeking his touch, and has been reciprocating it too.
"Somewhere outside on this vast planet called Earth?"
Colonnello doesn't comment on his joke, his smile not faltering, but it's clearly not what he hoped to hear.
Skull could tell him where they are if he just lets him look around, but of course it won't reassure him if he has to do that first before he can answer him. It's just…
Skull had this exact same conversion in this exact same place and with the exact same person. It just was a different conversation in a different place and with a different person. And Skull's had so many conversations in so many places and with so many people by now.
How does Skull explain that to him without making him feel like he's just the last one of a long, long list? How does he explain that to him and make him understand that for how much he's so much more than that, fundamentally he also is just the last one of a long, long list? Couldn't possibly not be?
How does he tell him Skull can't—he can't put in the effort to constantly differentiate each of those conversations, each of those places, and each of those people without it completely undoing him right where he stands?
"Then who am I?" Colonnello breathes out.
"Colonnello," Skull says, holding tightly onto his wrist. He smiles. "Nello."
Colonnello's smile widens, this time reaching his eyes. He leans his forehead against his. "Are you here with me, Skull?"
Skull's smile falls from his lips.
He already said he is, didn't he? Or is Colonnello trying to hurt him, to be cruel with him?
Of course Skull's here with him, he's always here. He's stuck here, forever stuck here while the world turns round without having him in its orbit too, while everyone—
Colonnello kisses his eyes, lingering against each of them. "Stay with me, please?" he asks, brushing his tears away. "Just for a little while. We were just on our way to grab a bite together, remember? To eat some ice-cream, hm?" He grins, and Skull can only watch, can only let his sight commit itself to his memory, helpless to stop it even if he wanted to.
They're on their way to eat ice-cream like they've already done many times before, and like they'll likely do many more times after this. They'll have a good time eating ice-cream together, and ice-cream will come to taste to him like the sound of Colonnello's laughter, like the way his eyes shine when he smiles.
When Colonnello will die ice-cream will taste like him still, will only be able to taste like him, and how painfully will it bring him to tears then?
Skull'll forget ice-cream tastes like Colonnello, but will still remember it tastes like something that was so very dear to him, and something he lost and can't recall the face of all the same, the name of.
How does Skull even put a word on that pain? The kind you don't remember the cause of anymore, and yet it hurts you just the same, hurts you all the more for it.
Skull doesn't know, but he knows how that pain feels. He knows. He would know.
That's all for later though. That later will inevitably come, always does, and always too soon, but right now Skull can still eat ice-cream together with him and simply enjoy it.
"Give me a real smile again?" Colonnello asks, nuzzling their foreheads together. Skull smiles, and he doesn't know if it's a real one, wouldn't bet on it, but it's all Colonnello'll get now. "Thank you," Colonnello breathes out, his smile impossibly fond and warm, his eyes impossibly sad and pained. "You're so brave."
Skull grabs him by the collar of his jacket and crashes their lips together.
He doesn't want to be brave, has never wanted to have to be brave.
He's so tired of having to be brave about his very existence.
Let him be scared and a coward, let him run away. Let it be too much and let him break, and let him stay broken. Let him be weak, let him be weak and let him be pitied, if not empathized with.
Let him have and keep if only even once, if only even just this once.
Let Skull have and keep him.
Skull kisses Colonnello fiercely and desperately like he's trying to entwine their beings together, like he's trying to brand his being into him. Skull kisses him in the hope of branding Colonnello's being into him, in the desperate hope it'll be enough to keep him here too, to keep him here with him.
Colonnello kisses him back just as fiercely, like he's trying to brand Skull's being into him too, but the kiss still only feels like Skull's kissing sand slipping between his fingers, tasting like the salt of his tears.
They've been cursed, and Skull feels nothing.
He should, that much is clear as he looks at the others. There's tears and screams, anger and confusion, fear and hurt. There's worlds falling apart, trust shattering, bonds breaking, lives being turned upside down.
There's loss so raw and so deep Skull should be choking on it, should fall on his knees crushed by the weight of it.
There's one adult woman and six adults in the bodies of babies, bright pacifiers around their necks shackling all of them the same all the same, and Skull doesn't remember the name of any of them. Can't remember them at this moment.
Skull's grateful he can't remember the name of any of them, not right now.
Sometimes Skull's afraid time will erase everything else that still makes him human too, that still makes him of the same kind as everyone else despite the one thing that'll always set him apart from everyone else.
Sometimes, like right now, as he witnesses tragedy tears apart people he knows he cares about but doesn't feel like he is, as he stays unmoved in the face of the same tragedy hitting him too, it feels like he's already forgotten how to be human.
Absentmindedly, Skull brings his hand to his heart. It's there. It still beats. He's still alive, and should still be able to feel.
Skull's been cursed, shackled by the bright purple pacifier around his neck inside the body of a baby, and he feels nothing.
Skull walks out of the Carcassa's mansion, and stops in surprise at the sight of Verde. "Oh." He perks up, grinning under his helmet. "Verde, hey! You asked to see me?" He runs down the stairs, but stays at the foot of the last one, waiting for Verde to make the next move.
Verde doesn't do anything for a long time, just watching him. "Skull," he eventually greets him, pushing his glasses up his nose. "You seem cheery. And still entirely unaffected by our new predicament as far as I can tell."
"It'll pass."
"Then you won't mind showing me your face, will you?"
Skull grins again, but makes no move to remove his helmet.
Verde smirks, and finally breaches the distance between them.
He sits on the last stair, and on his cue Skull sits next to him.
"You're not here for long then?" he asks. "Or you just find stairs comfortable?"
"Do you even realize what the pacifiers around our necks are? You didn't seem to be paying attention back then."
"You noticed that?"
"Did you notice anything that happened at the time?"
"I did. What are you doing here, Verde?" Verde says nothing, and Skull keeps swinging his legs back and forth, not looking at him. "Are you here to study me?"
"Of course," Verde says, a prideful tone to his voice. "Such a peculiar and puzzling person as yourself, how could I not want to study you until even you fall within the range of my understanding?"
"That's fine."
"Is it?"
"Sure. Only as long as you do it from afar though. I'll hurt you if you put your hands on me."
"I've never put my hands on you. Not like that."
Skull bursts out laughing. "Of course not! No one can put their hands on the Great Skull-sama if he doesn't want them too!"
Ah. He just got it wrong right now, didn't he?
He should have said "I know" instead, should have said "Thank you".
Could Verde hear it anyway?
Skull's not sure if they got the time to become close enough for him to.
"I'm here to understand you, I meant that. But from Verde to Skull, not from the scientist to Skull. And I suppose you could also say I'm here to check up on you."
"Oh." Skull stills. "That's… nice of you. Thank you. I'm fine."
Verde huffs, sounding frustrated. "How could you possibly be?"
"It'll pass."
"Is it you don't realize how that sounds to me, Skull?" he curtly snaps. "Certainly it's bound to eventually pass for you, one way or another, but for me? For us? Or is it you're purposefully—what? Trying to get back at us? At me? I know we didn't only have good times together, but were we so horrible to you?"
Was I? he doesn't say, but it seems they got the time to become close enough for Skull to hear it anyway.
Verde clenches his jaw hard, his shoulders tensed, his hands curled into fists.
Skull frowns, tilting his head.
"I'm just here to check up on you," Verde says quietly.
"I didn't mean to hurt you. And I'm not trying to either."
Verde purses his lips like his words just made him angrier, but then averts his eyes. He sighs, and removes his glasses with one hand to rub his eyes with the other one. "I don't get you. Are you telling me you really lost nothing to this… curse?" he spits out like the word left a bad taste in his mouth. "That you won't lose anyone to it? Don't you have friends? Family?"
"I had. Many times too. But not anymore, and not ever again if I can help it at all."
"How harsh."
A startled laughter tumbles from Skull's lips, small but genuine. "Yeah, I'm just awful at listening to myself. But I've really been trying to not have that anymore. Not anytime soon at the very least. How are you, Verde?"
Verde sighs again, putting his glasses back on his nose. "What does it look like?"
"How are the others?"
"I don't know. But no doubt I could guess it accurately enough if you really want to hear it."
Skull swings his legs back and forth again, trailing his eyes on Verde. He looks thinner than the last time he saw him, and it's not that long ago. He looks tired too, paler than Skull remembered him to be, his eyes heavy and tormented, the features of his face pained and desperate.
But it'll really pass, even if he can't believe it now. Not in the way he'd hope it will, or the way it will for Skull, with him either outliving the Curse or dying to it until he's alive again, but he'll get used to the pain.
They all will, and it's always a small mercy, will lessen the pain. They're strong too, the strongest, so Skull knows it'll be enough for them to learn to live with it, and to move forwards with it however way they'll manage to. Skull hopes they'll even be able to find happiness again in between the pain.
Skull himself is afflicted by a pain without hope, a pain that'll never pass. In his case time only makes it worse instead of making it easier to bear, but once upon a time he thought it'd do the opposite for as long as he could fool himself believing it, so he'd know he said nothing but the truth.
"I could explain it to you if you want," he says. "But I don't think you're in any state to hear it right now."
Verde huffs the slightest laugh, with no humor in it. Then he bursts out laughing, just as humorlessly, throwing his head back. "I'll take your words for it then. I'm afraid I can't afford not to right now anyway. Besides, you've always been smarter than people give you credit for, isn't that right? Can't possibly not to be, I suppose."
"Thanks."
The silence stretches between them, sad and pitiful.
"I'm sorry for the things I said."
Skull smiles. "Why? You weren't wrong. You rarely are."
"I'm leaving."
Skull looks up at Viper, then back down at his cup of tea. They're in his home, sitting on the kitchen table, and Skull was wondering what their sudden visit was all about. "Okay."
Viper huffs. "No, not 'okay'. None of you'll ever see me again because I'm going to cut all ties with you. I'm going to cut all ties with you and with—with… this so thoroughly, everyone will think I'm dead."
"Okay."
Viper's fingers curl against their cup of tea, but they don't touch it, have yet to. "Of course I won't really be dead. You'll remember that, won't you?" Skull's movements falter, but he keeps drinking his tea. He doesn't look at them. "Answer me," Viper presses him. "I won't come to see you again either, but you will remember I'm still alive anyway, won't you?"
"I don't know."
"Then make sure you will. Write it down somewhere or something. Isn't it something you must already be doing anyway? Writing about—I don't know, your life or something?"
"Okay."
Viper jumps to their feet, their cup falling on the table. "Is that all you're going to give me?" they shout. "Okay? Why do you think I'm even telling you this? I'm leaving, don't you have anything to say about it? Don't you care and I'm actually just wasting my time right now?" They snap their mouth shut as abruptly as they opened it, their hands into fists at their sides.
Skull watches the tea spill over his nice napkin, staining it. He puts down his cup of tea on the table, and watches his reflection in it.
He can't bear to look at Viper, not when it feels like they're dead already.
Skull frowns. No, he shouldn't be thinking that. That's why Viper's angry at them for right now, isn't it?
They're just leaving, not dying. They won't keep in touch with Skull and he'll never see them again, as if they'll be dead, but they'll still be alive even then and he'll have to remember it.
He doesn't know if he will.
"Say something." Skull doesn't. "Can you at least please look at me?" Skull bites his lip, his fingers curling against his cup, his hands shaking. He looks up at them. "You won't tell the others, will you? I'm only telling you because… I can trust you to not tell the others about this, right?"
He nods. "I won't. Promise."
The features of Viper's face twist, the ones he can see anyway, and they cover their face with their hands. "Don't you care?"
"Will it help you? Doing this?" They say nothing, but they don't need to. "Then I'm glad there's something you can do to make… this easier for you. How could I possibly stop you from doing it? I just hope it'll work, V."
Viper slowly sits down again, and defeatedly rests their hands on their lap. "You're so goddamn kind. Why do you always have to be so fucking…" they trail off, and mark a long pause. "I'm sorry for your table. And your napkin."
"It's fine, don't worry about it." He looks back at his tea, and keeps his eyes down. He doesn't say anything else.
"Say something," Viper says, but doesn't sound like they actually expect him to. "Skull, please. You'll remember, won't you?"
Skull brings his cup to his lips, and drinks his tea.
Skull falls on his knees in front of Luce's grave, and weeps.
Luce's words about how he'd end up doing just that ring in his ears, and they ought to make this feel not like this anymore, ought to make it feel something else. They ought to make him laugh even, even if he'd still wouldn't find anything funny about this, ought to make this a little less worse, a little easier somehow, surely.
Luce's words about how he'd end up doing just that ring in his ears, and they ought to have had made it so it'd never happen to begin with. Isn't that how being warned about the future is supposed to work?
Her words ring in his ears, and they ought to have had saved them both from this.
Skull claws at the ground, claws at her gravestone, lashes out, and he's sorry for ruining the flowers she was given when he didn't even bring her ones himself. He clutches at his chest, at his heart, he screams, he sobs so harshly he swears it leaves crack on his being until he'll shatter, and the mere thought—the knowledge he'll have to stand again from this, will have to survive it yet again makes him wish he could just die right then and there more than anything else ever does.
Skull loves her.
Did she know?
How could she have when Skull didn't know she loved her while she was still alive, didn't know what he had until he lost her, and so never told her?
But she said she knew anyway. She said she could tell he loved her, and kept loving her still even after the Curse.
She said she could tell he forgave her for it, so why didn't she allow any of them to ever see her again after the Curse? Not even him?
Skull forgave her for the Curse, of course he did. And she said she could tell he did, so why did she make it so the last time they saw each other was back on top of that mountain? Where Skull doesn't even remember the last words they said to each other, if he managed to say anything at all to her that day? Where Skull couldn't even remember her name?
Luce.
Luce, that's her name.
Luce, who had unbearably sad eyes just like his, or as close as they could ever get. Luce, who didn't save him, chose to not even try to, but wanted to. Luce, who begged his forgiveness for choosing to not even try to save him even if she wanted to, and never forgave herself for that choice even if Skull forgave her for it. Luce, who probably didn't think anyone would ever want to save her, would ever put saving her above saving the world, but Skull would have, he would have.
Luce, who loved him enough to take a piece of his soul with her in her grave. A piece of his soul, because she was among the few who could actually see it for what it is, who could actually reach for it.
Luce, whom Skull loves, and she was taken away from him even sooner than the things he cares about are usually taken away from him.
Why was she?
He wants her back.
Skull loves her, and he's tired of loving, can't do any of this anymore. Someone makes it stop, someone teaches him how to make it stop because he can't love anymore—how many more times, how much longer—someone just makes it stop.
Skull believes there's always mercy to be found in the world, has to, but he doesn't know what else he can do so it'll finally be bestowed upon him too. He's done terrible things before, unforgivable things, but this has been done to him before he could do any of those things, and surely he's not undeserving of mercy too, cannot be.
Because Skull kneels in front of Luce's grave and weeps, and he's tired of graveyards and names on gravestones that bleed his heart dry. He can't have anyone else take a piece of his soul to a grave he'll never be able to follow in turn, has never been able to do so. He won't bear it, and has stopped being able to bear it years ago, decades ago, centuries ago.
Let him keep a piece of their souls too then, if nothing else, and let him remember them forever. Let him try to keep himself whole with them.
Luce, that's her name.
Let him not forget it, and let him carry it with him and keep it alive forever.
How agonizing would that be?
How merciful and soothing would that be?
It'll be fine. Skull weeps, has wept before in the exact same way and will weep again in the exact same way, but he'll stand again. He knows how to, has had to learn how to.
Skull kneels in front of a grave and weeps, but that's just what he does, what he's always been doing.
Skull sits at the edge of a cliff, his legs dangling in the air. The ocean is below him, with a whirlpool near the cliff sharks claimed as their own. A hawk lazily flies in the sky while staying close, sometimes flying low enough to play with the octopus which is playing with the sharks. There's a training ground behind him, a subway leading to it, and from up there the whole of the island is visible, with its amusement park, its beach and fancy hotels and villas.
It's a nice working place.
"Honestly," the other Arcobaleno sitting next to him says, amusement in his voice. He cradles Skull's hand on his lap, brushing his thumb over his knuckles. "What did you think was going to happen? That you were actually going to win and take over the island?"
Skull shrugs. "I was bored."
He snorts. "Clearly. But I don't suppose it might also be you were missing me, is it?" he asks, quieter and more serious than before. Skull says nothing, feeling the breeze ruffle his hair and breathing in the sea. "Well, I missed you. I'm really happy to see you, Skull." A wave of relief washes over Skull. He doesn't remember the other's name, but he remembers he's the type who'd have asked him if he remembered who he was instead, and he's grateful he didn't. "How've you been?" Skull shrugs, and says nothing. Not even 'What about you?' which would only be polite if nothing else. The other huffs a laugh. "Yeah, fair enough." Then, quieter and serious once more, squeezing his hand, "I'm sorry for your loss."
Skull almost bursts out laughing.
Which one?
He knows which one, remembers her still—Luce, Luce, Luce, let him not forget her, please, please, let him not forget her—, but which ones?
Still, it's nice to hear.
"Thanks."
"I love you." The other's hand tenses, and then he laughs. "Shit—fuck, sorry. That was super sudden and out of nowhere. In my head it was always going to be more romantic than this too, but—" He takes a moment or two, playing with his fingers. "I… I know it's unlikely we'll be able to do anything with it even if you feel the same way because of the way we are now, but I love you. I love you and I wanted you to know it. Just remember that, okay?" he breathes out after a beat, so softly it's almost lost in the wind and in the waves before Skull can hear it. "And come see me again?"
Their hands are intertwined, and Skull brushes his thumb along his. His eyes are soft as he looks at him, patient and hopeful, loving and understanding, and Skull can only feel cruel to not remember his name. "You come see me?"
He smiles, squeezing his hand, his eyes shining. "I will."
Ice-cream tastes like the way he smiles, like the way his eyes shine when he does.
Skull remembers that about him, is sure of it.
They successfully free themselves from the Curse, and get rid of the need of cursed bearers entirely. They get their adult bodies back, and there's happiness and tears of joy, laughter and relief, gratefulness and a centuries old thirst of revenge finally quenched.
Skull can't stop the tears streaming down his face. He can't bear the sight of such happiness, of such celebration when it gouges his heart out with loss and grief. Their pacifiers are still around their necks, but they're a clear and transparent color now unlike their bright colors of before.
Skull should be happy about it—want to be happy for them. Those clear pacifiers are their worlds putting themselves back together, their lives getting on the right track again, a future taken away from them that just found its way back to them again.
Skull can't be happy for them, not right now when he's overwhelmed by the pain. He's been preparing himself for this possibility ever since they agreed to the representatives battles, both of their deaths and their freedom, though of only one of them, but he still can't stop his tears.
To him the pacifiers around their necks were a small mercy the likes of which the world has rarely shown him. He felt grateful for them despite knowing it was the worst thing that had ever happened to them, and it's so terrible of him to mourn their loss, makes him such a terrible person, such a terrible friend, but that's how it felt, that's how it felt.
The pacifiers were shackling Skull to them and them to him, were making sure they'd stay here too no matter what.
They stuck them here with him, and he thought he'd have more time to make the most out of it. He thought he'd have more than a couple of decades, was hoping for at least a century.
He hoped for at least a century to love them without the constant and inevitable grief of it, to love them without wondering if it was the last time he was seeing them every time he saw them, or how quickly they were going to be taken away from him.
Skull can't stop his tears, on his knees, can't breathe through them, and he wishes he'd stop breathing altogether, forever. He can't do this anymore, he can't do this anymore, why isn't anyone listening? How must he say it so someone—anyone will finally listen?
If the Tri-ni-sette is so great then why has it allowed for him to be born like this? What's the point of living a life like this, how does he even live a life like this?
If the Tri-ni-sette is so impartial then why the cruelty of him being the only one who's been born like this? Why the mercy of letting him finally rest has yet to come?
How many more times, how much longer? What for?
Hasn't he already lost enough, gone through enough? Hasn't he already lost more than he could bear, gone through more than he could handle?
What's the point, what's the point?
What's the point?
"No more tears?" Skull's curled up on the floor, still in the park, and he doesn't know how long he's been there. It seems long enough for the sun to set soon, and for everyone else to leave. "I'm sorry for having intruded on… this. But if it can make you feel better, your fellow… Guardians now, I suppose, weren't too keen about leaving me alone with you, to say the least. I'm sure they're still nearby too." Checker Face tilts his head to catch his eye, considering. "Are you with me, Skull? Is your mind here with me too?" He stands near him, his hands in his back. Skull averts his eyes. "That's fine. Only understandable. But I'll be grateful if you could at least listen to what I have to say."
"Kill me."
"I can't."
"Make the Tri-ni-sette do it then."
"I was only the guardian of the Tri-ni-sette, its protector. Never its master. I'm afraid it'll be the same now with the Vindice too."
Skull clenches his jaw, gritting his teeth. "Byakuran—"
"You and I both know he didn't," Checker Face says, not unkindly, but not kindly either. "He may have come the closest to ever kill you, but you were still going to come back to life, with or without Uni." Skull curls his hands into fists, but then loosens them, his body going lax. What's the point? "I wanted to apologize to you for cursing you, Skull. For doing it despite being the one person in this world who perhaps understands your affliction the best. If it matters, I tried not to for all those centuries until there simply wasn't any other suitable Cloud but you."
Skull says nothing. Checker Face keeps silent too, though doesn't move, doesn't walk away.
Skull wishes he would. He wants him to leave him alone if that's all he had to say.
"If it can help… perhaps it's that you're the same as my kind. You'll live a long, long while, but eventually that long lifespan of yours might run out too." He marks a pause. "I know this won't help and you don't care to hear it, but I myself will be around another long while still. The Vindice as well—"
"I don't want company while I'm like this!" Skull shouts, sitting up. "I don't want other people to be like me. I want to be like them," he begs, desperate, his eyes welling up with tears. "I want to be able to know too with absolute certainty this will all end one day. I want… I want this to be over." A sob tears out of his mouth, but he swallows it back, biting his lip. "We are the same. So how do you look like this while I'm…"
"I had something to care for through it all. Or, well, to take care of in this case, I suppose. I had something I had to wake up each day for."
"Not anymore," Skull says, hoping it'll sting, hoping it'll hurt and finally break through that composure of his.
"Not anymore," Checker Face agrees, wistful. "But if the world's willing to be kind and merciful to me again, something else will come my way. Has the world yet to be kind and merciful to you?"
"Has it ever been?" Skull spits out, bitter, bitter, bitter. "I have nothing, okay? I had and I lost, and I had and I lost again so many times, and I'm tired of having only to inevitably lose it."
Checker Face tilts his head again, a slight frown briefly creasing his brows. He's kind then when he speaks, his voice soft, "So you will always inevitably lose what you have. And?"
The question takes Skull so much aback, he forgets to be angry about it. "What?"
"Is it not worth it to have, and have your life not only be pain anymore as long as you have it? Is it not better to have and lose than to never have had at all? To have and lose and know you were lucky to have had? To know the pain of losing is worth the joy of having had?"
"Says who?" Skull shouts again, angry then. But then his voice breaks, weakens, and is more tears than words. "I don't want to ever have anything again if this is how it'll always be." He pulls his knees up against his chest, and hides his face in them. "I'm not going to ever…"
"You poor child. You refuse to show yourself mercy, and yet are desperate for the world to give it to you." Checker Face runs his hand through his hair, his voice still kind, and Skull aches all the more for it. "You know just as I do my words are true. How could you not when you've already had and lost so many times, and yet can't stop yourself from having again knowing you'll inevitably lose it again?"
"Skull?" Uni calls out softly, lightly resting her hand on his arm. "It's me, it's Uni. It's already nighttime and it's cold, you can't stay here." Uni gives it a moment, but she grabs his shoulders when he has still to move. "Look at me, please?"
Skull doesn't put up a fight, raising his head from his knees. They look into each other's eyes, and Uni's are the lightest he's ever seen them. The happiest too though he has yet to see it properly, and she's sad as she looks at him now, but he's sure of it and is happy for her.
For the first time since maybe the moment she's been born, her eyes look like those of a child.
Luce and Aria would have been so happy for her too. Aria and Uni never had eyes as unbearably sad as Luce's, but too sad to bear all the same.
Not anymore, and Uni will never ever come close again to have this kind of eyes, he'll see to it.
Uni shakes her head, and firmly, though still softly, cups his face between her hands. "No, Skull. Look at me." Skull swallows thickly, keeping his eyes in hers. She smiles. "Do you know? There's nothing in this world as strong or as binding as the bonds that connect people to each other. There's nothing in this world that's as lasting as those bonds either. Do you get what I'm saying?"
"What are you saying?"
"Your bond with the others is no thanks to the pacifiers, has never been so. After all it already existed before you were all cursed, didn't it?" She strokes his cheek comfortingly, encouragingly, but all he can do now is to keep looking at her, to keep being here with her. "They'll prove it to you better than any word can hope to do if you give them the chance to. Can you do that?"
"Can I?"
Uni's smile widens, and she takes his hands in hers. "Yes, Skull. I believe you can, I know you can. Because you're so very strong, and love so much." Skull looks at the others waiting for them a couple of feet away, waiting for him, then back at Uni. "We agreed with the others to stay together for now to make sure the Curse was removed without problems. Will you come with us?"
Skull takes a deep and steadying breath. It shakes, but it's enough. He nods. "Yeah, okay." Uni nods back, squeezing his hands. She helps him up to his feet, but only releases one of his hands then, leading the way. "I love you too, Uni." Uni freezes. "It's hard to look at you sometimes, and I'm sorry it hurts you when it happens, but I love you too. I've always loved you too. You know that, right?"
Uni's eyes glisten with tears, but her smile is blinding. She laughs, squeezing his hand even tighter than before. "Thank you, Skull."
Someone knocks on his door, and Colonnello walks in without waiting for an answer. He doesn't switch the light on, but pauses next to his bedside table. "Hey."
"Hey," Skull says.
"Can I?" he asks, reaching for the lamp.
"Sure."
Skull doesn't blink at the light, keeping his eyes on Colonnello.
Colonnello gestures at the bed with his head. "Can I?"
"Sure," Skull says again, scooting over as Colonnello climbs in bed.
They lie on their side, facing each other.
"Who am I?"
"Colonnello. Who am I?"
Colonnello laughs, a soft and happy thing that warms Skull a little on the inside. "Skull," he says, brushing his cheek with his fingertips. "You should be sleeping, it was a long day."
"You weren't sleeping either."
"Because I knew you weren't either."
"How convenient." Colonnello huffs a laugh, and a small smile briefly pulls at Skull's lips. "I'm sorry I ruined the mood back then. You should all be celebrating right now, throwing on a party or something."
"It's fine. We can do that whenever you'll feel like partying with us too."
Skull tries to smile again, but doesn't manage to. "Free from the Curse at last then, huh?"
Colonnello smiles, bright and wide. "Yeah."
"And I guess this is where I congratulate you for it, isn't it? Where I say I'm happy for you."
"If you want to," Colonnello says after a small beat.
Guilt twists Skull's stomach. "I'm sorry I can't do that without lying to you."
"It's okay."
"I was happy we got cursed too. I was grateful for it. I'm sorry for that too."
Colonnello runs his hand through his hair before cupping the side of his neck. "It's okay."
Skull huffs, weak and a little wet. "How can it be?"
"Because I love you," Colonnello says, smiling and stroking the line of his jaw. "And I always try my best to understand you, to understand how you feel."
Skull smiles back, and it pains him because he doesn't deserve him. He moves closer to him all the same, their noses almost touching. "I can't believe I let everyone see me cry like that. I can never show my face to any of them again now."
"I mean, yeah, it sure was kinda hard to miss," Colonnello says, teasing. "But I'm sure they won't say anything about it."
"Right. Because inspiring respect in other people is the one thing I'm known for, as everyone knows."
Colonnello snorts, but then actually snickers. "It'll change little then, won't it?"
Skull playfully kicks him in the shin. "Nope, wrong answer. Try again."
Colonnello raises his eyebrow like he's about to double down on his teasing, but then turns earnest, entangling their legs together. "We won't let them give you any shit over it, so don't worry about it." He removes his hand from his neck, and Skull feels cold without it. "What did Checker Face want? He didn't do anything to you, did he?"
"I'm okay."
"What did he want?"
"To apologize for cursing me." Colonnello scoffs harshly, a hard look on his face, and Skull smiles. "He also said he couldn't kill me."
Colonnello flinches back, wincing. "Wha—? Why would he...?"
"I asked him to."
Colonnello doesn't flinch this time, doesn't wince, but Skull would rather that than that look on his face. "I… see. And I guess this is where I say I'm sorry he couldn't."
"If you want to," Skull says, his eyes stinging.
"I'm sorry I can't do that without lying to you."
"No?"
"Skull," he pleads, looking so pained. He lightly bumps their foreheads together. "Of course not. I'll miss you if you die, to say the least."
"But I'll miss you when you'll die. When you'll all die. To say the least. Why can't it be you missing me for once?"
"I'm sorry it can't."
Skull lets out a strangled sob, but swallows back the others. "Are you lying to me?"
"I'm not. I wouldn't."
Skull squeezes his eyes shut tight, willing his tears away, and waits for Colonnello to wipe them away before opening his eyes again. He brushes Colonnello's jaw with his fingertips, then his chin, then the shape of his lips. He moves higher to the contour of his ear, then the line of his cheekbone and his nose. He brushes his fingertips over his eye, over his eyebrow, and lightly rubs his knuckles against his forehead.
"You're beautiful," he says, running his fingertips down the side of his face.
Colonnello glows under the praise, a thousand times more beautiful at that moment. "You forgot my hair? They're really soft, just see for yourself."
Skull laughs, a genuine laugh that chases the last of his tears away and leaves him with a wide grin on his lips. He tangles his fingers in Colonnello's hair, leaning in for a kiss.
The kiss is chaste, soft and gentle unlike their first one, and it's somehow fitting, it's all it needs to be.
"I love you," Skull breathes out when he pulls away. "I love you too, I mean." An impossibly soft and loving look takes over Colonnello's face, and Skull hopes it's one of the last images of him he'll forget. Colonnello's smile turns into a mischievous grin, and a curious smile pulls at Skull's lips. "What?" Colonnello laughs, giggles, and Skull can't help but laugh too. "What? What is it?"
"This gotta be the world's record of the confession left the longest unanswered."
Skull blinks. "Wha—?" He bursts out laughing, Colonnello's laughter mixing with his. "Come on!" he says, playfully shoving his shoulder.
"What? Am I wrong?"
"Well, sorry about that." Colonnello snickers, and Skull huffs, but doesn't mean it. "Really, though," he adds quietly, earnest. "I'm sorry for the wait."
Colonnello kisses him again, then again, grinning in the kisses. "All forgiven." He holds onto one of his hand, cradling it in both of his. "I love you."
"I love you."
Colonnello kisses his knuckles, rubbing his palm with his thumb. "You'll be okay, Skull."
"I won't."
Colonnello falters an instant, but then cups the back of his head, leaning their foreheads against each other's again. "But you're going to be okay now. And you'll be okay as long as we're here to see to it, alright? I promise."
Skull chokes up, but it's not a bad feeling for the first time since a very long time. "Okay."
Skull wakes up alone in bed. It must be late in the morning, if not later than that, his room lit up by the sun filtering through the binds of his window. Skull gets out of bed and goes through his morning routine, and it's easier to do it than it has been for a very long time now, both his body and mind feeling light.
He finds the others sitting at the kitchen's table, just about to eat.
"Look who finally rose and shone," Reborn says.
"Good morning, Skull," Uni greets him, echoed by the others.
"Just in time for lunch," Fon adds.
"Enjoy your breakfast," Reborn says, and the others laugh, Skull chuckling.
Colonnello grins at him. "Hey, babe. Hungry?"
"Yeah," Skull says, taking the last seat next to him.
Colonnello kisses his temple, Skull leaning in the touch, closing his eyes. "Slept well?"
"Yeah, thank you." Skull kisses his cheek before he can fully pull away. "Did you?"
"Talking about last night—" Verde says before he can answer.
"Yeah, you tell them, Verde," Reborn cuts him off.
Verde purses his lips distastefully. "Don't interrupt me when I'm talking."
Lal sighs. "Can we just eat?"
"No, it needs to be said if we're really going to live together for a hopefully as short a time as possible," Viper says.
"Got a problem with us?" Colonnello asks, mostly looking at Reborn.
"Guys—" Uni tries, but there's amusement in her voice.
"I'm glad you asked," Reborn says. "Learn to shut the fuck up at night from now on, will you?"
The others laugh, Colonnello huffing and rolling his eyes, but it's all in good humor.
Fon nudges Skull's foot under the table, then gestures at his plate with his head. He smiles. "After you. Just ignore them."
His comment starts a wave of every-man-for-himself general bickering, with the exception of Uni, and Skull watches, taking them in, grinning from ear to ear. He's the first one to dig in his meal, warm all over from basking in their warmth, from soaking in their presence. The food's delicious. "I love you." He says it softly, to himself more than to them, but from the brief lull in the conversation, he knows they heard him.
Maybe Skull really can do this again at least one more time.
Maybe he even wants to, because they're worth it, and he already couldn't love them more even if he tried.
A/N: Skull immortality angst, from me? It's exactly as likely as you think, so I know we're not surprised. Also me pushing my Skull & Luce BFF agenda, and I'm not sorry about it. And of course some content about my OTP Skull/Nello.
More seriously though, I feel like the vibes of this one are really different from what I've done so far. Like, they really differentiate this story from the similar ones I wrote! I think it has to do with how Skull's written here? And I can't manage to put words on it, but his mental state here is just really... different and unique compared to what I've done so far.
I think it might also be because it's the first time I fully leaned into making him centuries years old, instead of a baby immortal or just leaving it up to interpretation. Either way I'm super happy about how both Skull and the overall sorry came out!
I hope you enjoyed the story! Any and all reviews are appreciated.
Thank you for reading!
- Hope
Answers to guests' comments:
Anna: thank you so much, i'm so happy you do! and thank you for your comment!
Mori: i think i get what you're trying to say, and that's actually a very good point i hadn't noticed before! you're right that because of the very vulnerable and painful place he's in here, the arco have to do all the heavy work to not only connect with skull, but also to help skull connect with them in any way he can at the moment. and i'm really happy you enjoyed how i portrayed it, because it really isn't something that's being done often or i myself have the opportunity to do often! and i'm even happier it could bring you some relief, like wow, thank you for letting me know, it really means a lot.
aww, thank you so much. you're definitely a beloved reader of mine too, and i'm always so grateful for your supportive comments! likewise i wish you all the best for this end of the year and for the next one coming! thank you for your comment!