A/N: To all my ffnet-only followers - sorry for the delay! I actually finished this story and had it all posted to AO3, but clean forgot about posting it here too. I'm gonna post the rest of the story now, so expect a sudden deluge of chapter notifications. There are 3 chapters (including this one and an epilogue) to be posted, and then this story is officially finished!
Enjoy!
x
Chapter 12
x
Haru is not afraid of the dark.
After all, she's been on enough cases where the odd dungeon delving, or cave diving, or secret passage walkthrough with non-existent light has been necessary, so she's familiar with dark. But the thing is, absolute darkness is rare. Usually there's a lantern, or starlight, or even bioluminescent algae to shed some light, and that's not even considering Baron's light magic. Usually, even if she can't see much, there's still a vague sense of her surroundings.
Behind the blindfold, it's nothing but black.
Haru is not afraid of the dark, but her heart skitters nonetheless. There is something about the complete nothingness, something about the spidersilk on her skin, something about the stillness of the air, that feels all wrong.
Then again, simply knowing that on the other side of the blindfold is a soul-sucking monster might also do that to a gal.
"Haru?"
"Haru, what's happening?"
The voices are indistinguishable from one another, perfect copies of Baron's voice. It sounds like both are stood before her, one to the left, the other to the right.
"It's one of the Bedlam's games," she says. "One of you is the real Baron, and the other is the Bedlam in disguise. I need to guess which one is real."
"I am!" one Baron cries.
"Naturally, you would say that," the other retorts.
"Yes. Because it is the natural thing to say. At least, it is if you're real."
"Or if you're pretending to be."
"Enough!"
At Haru's command, both Barons go silent.
"This isn't a puzzle that's gonna be solved by who can shout the loudest, or insist they're a real boy the most often. From now on, you only speak when I ask you something, got it?"
"Yes, Haru."
"Yes."
"Okay, good."
Haru's mind races over the options. There is always a possibility that neither is the real Baron... but somehow she doubts it. It's not that she doesn't think the Bedlam is above cheating, but rather that everything she's encountered so far implies that weaving a new Baron puppet would take time, and she's somewhat sprung this upon him.
So that leaves... well, one Bedlam masquerading as Baron, and one real Baron. Still, there are ways the Bedlam could cheat.
"Both of you, hold out your hand," she orders. "One on my left, the other on my right."
She feels cotton brush against her fingers, and she curls her hand around each gloved wrist. "This way there can be no secret switcharoos happening while I'm blindfolded," she says.
"Clever," the right Baron approves.
"What did I say? No talking unless I ask you something."
Haru wants to pace, but there's no way of doing that without trawling both Baron's behind her like two wayward children. If she could see them, this would be easy – the Bedlam seems unable to create puppets or alter himself without button eyes – but then that explains the blindfold. That said...
She runs her hands up the respective Barons arms If the Bedlam is limited by button eyes, she'll be able to feel them by brushing a hand across his face. Her hands have only reached their shoulders when both vanish.
"Hey!"
"Now, now, now," the Bedlam's voice croons. "That'd be cheating."
"You didn't set any such rules when we started," Haru retorts.
"You're making this a thing of logic, rather than of knowing. The point of this game was you proving you could recognise your Baron blindfolded–"
"Which you've helpfully provided."
"–so if you go looking for my button eyes, where's the fun in that? Where's the creativity? Prove to me you know him for who he is, not who I am."
"I take it from the fact I still can't see a thing that I get a second chance?"
"I'm looking forward to you guessing wrong."
"Bold words from the monster who's just had to take a time out to establish extra rules," Haru scoffs. "So, what am I allowed to do?"
"Why, talk, of course. Ask questions."
"You've been watching me for months. I doubt there's much I could ask that you wouldn't know."
"But you've known the Baron longer than that," the Bedlam assures. "I'm sure there's something you can ask him that only he will know. Now, if you're quite done complaining about the game..."
The world shifts, and suddenly there is a gloved wrist in both of Haru's hands. "Baron? Are you back?"
"Yes," two voices chorus.
"Good. Now, let me think."
The Bedlam's interruption has unnerved her more than she wants to let on. Questioning both Barons on their knowledge had been Haru's next plan, but the Bedlam's assurance that such a scheme might work seems... odd. Even if he had only been watching for a few months – and that is plenty of time – he still managed to make a very convincing perfect world for Haru.
And Haru had talked with the Bureau so often (at least before her exile) that the Bedlam probably overheard them reminiscing about the past. He certainly knew about the Cat Kingdom and Katzen Blüt. And that was at least a decade ago.
Still, there were ways in which the Baron-Bedlam had differed from the original Baron. Maybe the Bedlam hasn't learnt from his mistakes. Some habits die hard, after all...
But, oh, this is going to break her heart.
"I have a question for you," she says eventually. "I want you to answer it truthfully, one at a time. Was what the Bedlam said earlier true? Do you..." She falters, and steadies her voice before attempting it anew. "Do you wish I was a Creation too? Would you have still thrown me out of the Bureau had I been... like you?"
Was I not enough?
She turns her head to her right. "You first."
Right Baron cradles her hand in both hands, his hold soft and precious. "No, never," he promises. "Haru, the Bedlam preys on our worst insecurities, using them make us doubt ourselves until we leave our world and all its imperfections behind. He said what he knew would wound you most. He used the biggest mistake of my life and used it to convince you that I didn't love you, and for that there is no apology I can give that will do justice to the harm I've done."
She feels Right Baron move closer, and she shakes her head, even though all her heart wants to do is fall into the embrace he would surely give.
Right Baron reads her correctly and backs off, but is still closer than before. "It's taken all of... this for me to see the error of my ways – taken me almost losing you – but now I see I never should have pushed you away. Instead I should have told you the truth: that I love you, exactly as you are."
Haru swallows. For the first time, she's glad of the blindfold – glad that neither can see the effect those words have had on her. Still, her mouth wavers as she turns her head to the left.
She doubts either one miss the way it takes her two tries before she can speak, and when she does she cannot fully hide the tremour.
"Now you."
Left Baron doesn't speak immediately. Though she can hear his breathing to be steady, she can feel his erratic pulse from the wrist caught in her grip.
"It would be a lie to say things would not be... simpler, if you were a Creation," Left Baron says. In contrast to Right Baron's heartfelt fervour, Left Baron's words are soft and sad. "Humans are so fragile and, sometimes, I think you forget that. But I don't. I can't. I look at you, and I see all the close shaves, all the near misses, all the times I could have lost you, and it breaks my heart."
His fingers brush against hers, so briefly that she could almost believe she imagined it.
"So would I have thrown you out of the Bureau had you been a Creation? No."
Haru can't help it; a pained, disgusted sound rises through her throat. She releases Left Baron's wrist before she can stop herself, but he grabs her hand.
"But would I love you if you were a Creation?" he asks, and his grip is firm and just a shade off desperate. "I don't know. Maybe. But even if I did, I would be in love with a different person. You would be different. Your compassion and bravery is rooted by your mortality, strengthened by your humanity, and that is the Haru I fell in love with."
Haru blinks and, even blindfolded, her eyes water. "It's you." She drops her hand away from Right Baron and cups Left Baron's face. She feels the dimple where eyes rest. No buttons. "It's really you."
"Really?" The blindfold vanishes, and Haru squints against the sudden light. Before her stands Baron – real, with gemstone eyes – while the Bedlam looms to her right. "I give you a Baron who had learnt the error of his ways, and you still choose the one who admitted he'd have let you stay if you were a Creation? Really?!"
Haru wipes away the blossoming tears with the heel of her palm. "You told me what I wanted to hear. Baron told me the truth."
"It was a terrible truth. All it did was prove he has learnt nothing from this."
"Trust me, I know. And now, I did believe you promised I could talk with Baron when I guessed correctly?"
"One could argue you've had quite enough talk to satiate the terms of our deal–"
"Fantastic." Haru steamrolls over the Bedlam's words and cups Baron's cheek in her other hand. She smiles. He smiles back. "Baron," she sighs, "I've waited so long to see you again and now I only have one thing to say: WHAT THE HELL WAS ALL THAT ABOUT?"
The Bedlam immediately quietens, and Haru can almost sense his amusement. Baron, in contrast, stiffens.
"Haru, I spoke only the truth, however painful it is for both of us–"
"Not just now. I'm talking about what you did back the real Bureau – you know, when you kicked me out and changed the locks on me?"
"Ah. That."
"Yes. That." She steps back, dropping her hands into her pockets. "I tell you I love you and you respond by kicking me out?"
"I wanted to keep you safe–"
Haru snorts. "Yeah, and that worked out just great."
"...Present situation notwithstanding."
"You didn't think, hey, maybe we should talk this out proper, before skipping straight to exile?"
"It – it wasn't exile–" Baron stutters.
"Well I sure didn't get a say in it."
"It was for your safety–"
"Again, when did I get a say in that–"
"I didn't want you to get hurt–"
"And why do you get to decide what risks I can take?!"
"BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!"
"I KNOW YOU DO! SO WHAT?"
Baron falters. "What?"
"I know." Haru sighs and passes a hand across her face. When she looks back to Baron, his lost expression is enough for her to soften her tone. "I know, Baron, of course I do. Why do you think I wanted to believe the Bedlam's world so badly? It wasn't because the Baron there loved me while you didn't. It's because the Baron here had the guts to tell me how he felt. You idiot."
Baron opens his mouth. Closes it.
"All this time?" he eventually manages.
"Well... depends on when 'all this time' started but... I've known for a good long while. You don't get to know someone that well and still miss all the signs..." Haru pauses, then adds, "Unless it's you, apparently. Did you really think your feelings were one-sided until I confessed how I felt?"
Baron glances away. "I thought it might be... a passing fancy."
"On your end or mine?"
"Or," he continues, "that maybe I was imagining it out of... a projection of my own emotions."
"You couldn't have asked?"
He meets her gaze. "I wasn't sure what answer I wanted."
Haru rolls her eyes. "Right. Because if I did feel the same way, that made it all real, and then–"
"And then you would put yourself in extra risk–"
"–because love makes people reckless," Haru finishes. She groans. "Godammit, Baron, have I already told you how stupid you've been?"
"Muta and Toto have told me several times on your behalf."
"Well, let's make it three for three: this is stupid. Whether or not you love me, it doesn't give you the right to decide what risks I'm allowed to take. Advise, certainly. Alleviated, sure. But you don't get to override my decisions, you prize dunce."
"Haru..." Baron begins to reach out, as if to take her hands in his own, and then seems to think better of it.
Haru curls her hands around Baron's bridging the gap he is clearly too tentative to cross. She doesn't know if he starts at the contact or the item she's just pressed into his palm, but she doesn't give the Bedlam a chance to notice. "Don't you dare try to rationalise kicking me out of the Bureau again. If you do, I might just leave you to get yourself out of this mess."
Baron meets her gaze, a question in his eyes. Haru's lips flicker, the ghost of a smile, and Baron squeezes her hand. He understands.
"Haru, all I ever wanted was for you to be safe–"
"Really?!" Haru snaps her hands free from his, and he palms the item aside. "After all of this, and you're still not listening?!"
"Haru–"
"No, I've had enough! Get yourself out, I'm done." She turns to the Bedlam, whose smile is viciously self-righteous. "You said I could see and talk to him if I won your mini game, right? Well, I'm done seeing and talking. Send him back to whatever snowglobe prison you've got him in. We're finished here."
"As you wish." The Bedlam clicks his clawlike fingers, and Baron vanishes. "Does that mean you concede the game?"
Haru blinks. "I'm not conceding anything. The rules were that I'd willingly accept the button eyes if I guessed wrongly. Well, I haven't."
"You haven't found all your friends though."
Haru passes her sights scornfully over the Bureau replica and all its cobweb orbs. "But I was never going to find him, was I? You might have given me a few clues for Toto and Muta, but there's no knack to this one."
"If you plan on goading me into giving you a hint, you're about to be sourly disappointed."
"This would have been a game of chance – and one rigged entirely in your favour," Haru continues. "Even if I had – through some miracle of luck – guessed the right one, you probably would have switched them round anyway."
"No 'probably' about it." The Bedlam approaches Haru. "You were never going to win, so why don't you accept the inevitable and..." He trails off, his head tilting at something to Haru's side.
One of the orbs is shimmering.
"I'm sorry, were you saying something?" Haru asks. She swipes the orb from where its strung up beside the kettle, snapping the threads connecting it to the sideboard. "Something about how I would never win?"
A tiny blade stabs out through the orb's outer layer, and cleaves a crack from east to west.
"I choose this one," she says, and Baron springs out from his cobweb prison, landing as dramatically and perfectly as ever.
"Right on cue," he says.
"Show-off," Haru mutters.