Chapter 2
x
The person who stands before Haru is Baron and yet... not.
There is something of him which puts Haru in mind of a reflection through a distorted glass; his limbs are a little bit longer, a little bit gaunter, and the shadows on his face don't quite sit right. His suit is monochrome, all save for the dusty-blue waistcoat, and the cane is nicked with a different lifetime's worth of scars.
And then, of course, there are the eyes.
Where Haru had come to know (to love) emerald-hued irises, there are only buttons, beetle-black and glimmering. They catch the light differently to the gemlike way Baron's had, still inorganic but... other. A criss-cross of ebony-dyed thread sits in their centres, and Haru tries not to wonder too long on their existence.
The not-Baron takes a step towards her.
She takes a step back.
He halts.
Even changed, even unfamiliar, she still reads all too well the pain which flickers across his face. "Haru? Is that... is that you?"
"Baron?"
The smile which lights up his face, she recognises. His gloved hand curls about his cane in the way she knows betrays his desire to pace. "So you do know me. I'm glad. I had feared maybe the trip here had been too much, caused you to forget–"
"I know of a Baron," she says curtly. "I do not know you." She looks up at the place which is the Sanctuary, and yet – like its button-eyed owner – isn't quite. "Where am I? Why did you bring me here?"
"I didn't bring you here, the Sanctuary did."
Haru recalls her own Sanctuary – no, not hers, not anymore – and its nature of meddling in others' affairs where it saw fit. Some things don't change, apparently. "Why?"
The not-Baron gestures for her to take a seat on sofa (red, but just a shade off) which Haru warily takes. "I have wondered this," he says, sitting opposite her, "and I have concluded that it sensed us both to be in pain and in need of the other."
"Need?" Haru echoes. Faint alarm bells go off in the back of her head. "Look, if this is a soulmate, fated kind of thing, you should know that I've had quite about enough of being told who to love to last for a lifetime."
The not-Baron chuckles; it is that same beneath-breath laugh she has heard so many times while mediating a Muta/Toto argument and it makes her heart constrict. "I know, trust me. My Haru was just the same."
Haru's breath catches. "My Haru?" she repeats.
The not-Baron offers her a soft, sad smile. "Where there is an Other Baron, there there'll be an Other Haru also. You're in a parallel world, you see; one almost identical to your own."
"Well, save for the..." She gestures uneasily to her own eyes.
The Other Baron grins. "Ah yes, the buttons." He brushes a finger along the rim of the right one. "Like I said, parallel worlds. Things work differently here, as you may have gleaned. From what I have seen of your world, however, there are few differences beside this."
"From what you've seen of my world?" Haru repeats. She leans back, caution colouring her words. "And how much have you seen?"
The Other Baron catches the unspoken 'of me' addition, and shakes his head placatingly. "Only that which the Sanctuary deigns to share. I know your world is much alike mine, save that the Baron in yours is somewhat lacking in the..." and he tilts his head, searching for the right word, "courage department."
"My Baron is plenty brave," Haru returns hotly.
"Ah, but he's not. Yours, I mean."
Haru's cheeks redden.
"But if he were brave," the Other Baron says, "then he would be. If he'd had the courage to speak his mind, as you had learnt all those years before, he would not have rejected you so."
Haru looks away. The coffee table before her is walnut – not oak, like her homeworld's Bureau's – and the grain runs in darker grooves. "He doesn't feel that way for me."
"I doubt it," the Other Baron hums. "We Barons do not differ that much."
She knows it is foolish, and yet she still asks, "And you? Did you have that courage?"
He throws her a smile which she realises she has never seen on her Baron's face; it is openly, shamelessly, in love. Her heart breaks anew. "I did," he says. "And for the brief time we shared it was... beautiful."
"I'm sorry. How did she...?"
"A case went wrong. She went right when she should have gone left, and that was all it took."
Haru's left shoulder twinges in sympathy. She rolls it back to numb the ache, and the Other Baron's gaze narrows on the action. Suddenly, Haru is hit with a jarring surety of just how close she came to death that day. "I'm sorry," she says again, for there's little else to be said, "I really am, but I still don't see why I was called here. I'm not her. I'm not... I won't be someone's replacement."
Grief clouds the Other Baron's face, even if his buttoned eyes give little away. "I know. I tried to tell the Sanctuary that, but I..." He takes a shaky breath, dips his gaze. "It didn't listen, and I didn't have the heart to barricade off your way here, not if it meant I got to see you – a version of you, at least – who still lives. Especially when I saw how my other self–" He cuts himself off abruptly, but not quickly enough to hide the disdain. He tries anew. "I suppose the Sanctuary thought our situations were compatible – me, a Baron without his Haru – and you, a Haru whose Baron refuses to accept her."
"He hasn't–"
"He threw you out of the Cat Bureau," the Other Baron reminds her emphatically. "He is a fool."
Haru wants to argue, but the petty, heartbroken side of her holds her tongue. She was good at the Bureau work, invaluable even on some cases, and he had pushed all that away – pushed her away – simply because her heart had fallen for him and she'd been blind enough to tell him.
"Still," she says, stubbornly clinging onto more comfortable truths, "I'm not your Haru. I'm not here to... to step into her place." To be your Haru, is the unspoken addition. "I'm just... I saw a door, I opened it, that's all."
The Other Baron nods. "I know. I just... it would be good to see you again. As a friend," he quickly adds, a half-smile tugging knowingly at his lips. "Truth be told, losing Haru has been hard not only on an emotional level, but a practical one also. We could do with your help on a Bureau case or two – if you wanted to."
Haru's lips twist, failing to hide the wry smile. "I'll think on it."
x
Once the mortal is gone from his world, the Bedlam loosens his shape from the cat Creation façade. No need to fret over her exit – she will be back. He has laid the trap too well for her to walk away without at least a backwards glance.
But now he cannot rest on his laurels; he must prepare for her inevitable return.
He has more webs to weave.
x
Haru has encountered enough strangeness in her time with the Bureau that she knows better – she hopes – than to straight up trust a stranger with a vested interest in her... even if he does share Baron's face. (Button eyes aside.)
She has an agreement with herself that if her Baron (well, okay not her Baron, but also not not her Baron; this was much easier before there were two of them and one had put a literal and metaphorical wall between them) opens the Sanctuary to her this time, she'll shelve any foolish thoughts of the Other Baron, and tell her Baron all about the bizarre encounter.
If not... well, she supposes this is a case now, a mystery to be unravelled; it's not her fault if the Bureau won't let her apply as a client.
It's just as well she has plenty of experience in tackling cases.
She waits at the Sanctuary wall for a good half hour before even looking at the Other Sanctuary's beckoning door.
Just in case.
He doesn't open the Sanctuary to her, but the Other Baron does and, casting a look which is one part disappointment and one part stubbornness at the unyielding wall, Haru steps into the Other Sanctuary. The Other Baron is quick to greet her – although that's mostly because he's already in the courtyard.
"Miss Haru!" he calls delightedly. "You returned!" He strides over to her with the kind of speed which usually precedes an embrace, but falters before he reaches her. She thinks she can see the exact moment he remembers she isn't his Haru. He bows, sweeping his hat from his head in a move which looks to hide the fleeting grief. "You come at the best of times. We were about to embark on a case, and you're more than welcome to join."
"We?" Haru echoes.
"Myself, and the rest of the Bureau, naturally."
As if on cue, an Other Muta and Other Toto emerge from the Bureau, bickering unusually good-naturedly. (In other words, without throwing either insults or plant pots.) They freeze when they see her – only for a heartbeat, and then Haru is swept up into a hug composing of feather and fur.
"It's good to see you two too," she laughs, muffled into the embrace.
"When Baron said you'd appeared, we didn't believe it," Other Toto says.
"Yeah, we thought he'd finally gone off the deep end," Other Muta snorts. "But look at you! All alive and breathing and... whatever the hell is going on with your eyes."
Haru laughs, and the palpable joy in both her friends – even as strange as they are – makes her tear up.
"Oh heck, they're leaking."
Haru giggles, and dabs ineffectively at her eyes. "They do that sometimes. It's fine." Through the tears, she blinks up at the two of them, noting their own button eyes, and amends her previous assumption that it was just a Baron thing. The brown spot is on Muta's other ear, and Toto seems to be a magpie in this world, but she knows them still. There are some things even parallel worlds can't seem to change.
"So, are you coming?" the Other Baron calls.
Haru breaks away from the embrace, still blinking away loose tears to focus on him. "It depends. What's the case?"
"Oh, just the usual fare – a client wants us to recover some priceless heirloom from the clutches of someone dastardly."
"Will there be adventure?" Haru asks.
"Most assuredly."
"Peril?"
"Most probably."
"Running?"
The Other Baron grins. "Always."
Haru grins right back. "Count me in."
x
After that, she doesn't mean to keep coming back to the Other Sanctuary, but... well, she does enjoy a good Bureau case. And it's not as if her local Sanctuary is being obliging. She doesn't realise just how much she's missed this chaos until she's fleeing for her life, hand intertwined with Baron's, or puzzling their way through a trapped labyrinth, or desperately trying to shush Other Muta and Other Toto's bickering on a stealth mission.
She doesn't even need to change her commute; as far as Hiromi is aware, Haru is still doing her volunteer work and – well, that's true enough. Little has changed, except for her 'coworkers'' buttoned eyes, and Haru has seen stranger.
And all through it, there is the Other Baron, with his tea and his dramatics and his distinct lack of a wall between them. And if he does occasionally look on her with a faraway gaze, a half-smile rising to cover the grief – if she does sometimes remind him of his Haru in a way which visibly breaks his heart – he is good enough to never extend those expectations, those hopes, onto her.
(She had once asked if her presence was more painful than was worth it, if it would be kinder if she didn't return, but he had shaken his head and assured her that one Haru leaving his life for good was bad enough; he didn't want to lose another.)
So, she doesn't mean to keep coming back, but somewhere along the way, she stops waiting for the first Sanctuary to open for her.