Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

It was 1 AM, in the middle of nowhere. 

The darkness had descended long ago, leaving them unable to see their surroundings besides the trees and bushes which got shone on by the moon. 

Their group consisted of 6 people - 4 Bloodfiends from La Manchaland and 2 human Brothers from the Middle - and none of them are sane at all... Well, except Sinclair and Sancho, who are obviously still have some senses within.

“It’s not a problem, I’ve navigated in worse areas. Just have to find some sticks for fire.” Meursault stated.

“And how do we get back with fire?” Outis groaned. In fact, this was the third time in the last hour that the Barber started groaning in annoyance.

“We are staying here for the night I assume,” Rodion explained. “We’ll search for the way out of the forest tomorrow morning.”

Outis gripped her short hair with her hands and started to pull it while screeching like a madman.

“Stay in the forest for a night?! No way! I would rather spend a night walking than to spend a night with Meursault and old man Gregor!” She angrily exclaimed.

“I’m only in my forties mind you,” the Priest said, glancing back above his shoulder. He put his hand on his hips and was looking at the area ahead.

Meanwhile, Sancho and Sinclair stared at the chaos with blank faces, thinking of a same question

“How the fuck did we end up here?!”

It all started on a Friday evening at 10 PM. 

Sinclair already hated the day, and knew he would hate it even more. 

A week ago, both Meursault and Rodion suggested that in order for both the Middle and La Manchaland to be on a good term, they should work on their trust and teamwork. 

If Sinclair had to be honest, he would say that some shitty demons possessed the Princess and his fellow Brother, because he never would have thought that those two would have ever came up with this. 

To his misfortune they did.

“And what are we doing?” Gregor asked.

Of all people here, Sinclair was trusting towards the Priest. Say all you want but of all people here, only Meursault and Gregor are two people Sinclair can get along with.

“O-o-o I know!” Outis jumped on the table while raising her hand like a middle schooler. “We should organize a fashion show! With the outfits I had made!”

“We can’t organize a damn fashion show, Outis,” Sancho deadpanned. “You know well that I don't like most of your designs.”

‘Yeah, right... I expected her saying that... Not like I disagree with her, but I can only put on 2-3 clothes the Barber made...'

“How about participating in a musical convention? Some say the quality of today’s music is best when attending a concert. It is an unfortunate event that I was unable to delve into its beauty.”

Everyone in the room looked at the Priest in surprise.

“Impossible, me and Brother Sinclair can’t show up with people who are wanted for being Bloodfiends, blame those Fanghunt guys for that,” Meursault explained and sat back in his chair. “We need a program where we are not out in public and does not necessarily end in one of us dying, but still brings us together.”

Both Sinclair and Sancho sighed.

“I heard some of my fellow Siblings said many families go on trips for bonding,” Sinclair looked at Meursault with a murderous look. No, not this idea. Definitely not.

“What an amazing idea, from our dear Meursault!” Rodion clapped and picked the pen out of the table to point at him with it. “Even Sancho would get outside for once!”

“I hate being outside.” Sinclair and Sancho said together.

“Then one week from now? On Friday?” Gregor said, not listening to the two problem children. 

They agreed on the date although Sinclair felt that his trust with Sancho and Outis had hit rock bottom. Not like he expected anything else from the Barber, but he wished he could befriend the Manager, as she, just like him, was seemingly calm opposing the others.

“But this time it’s not longer than one day. We can’t afford to get recognized.” Sancho stated. It wasn’t a valid point, they could easily sleep in tents, but Sinclair was not one to bring it up. He still enjoyed living.

“But what’s fun in not sleeping and drinking together?” Rodion sighed dramatically.

“Drinking?” Outis queried.

“Most people on trips get drunk together, my dear Outis.” The Princess explained, "And nothing brings people together more than being hungover in a forest!” 

The group after an hour agreed that on Friday they are going on a trip with Meursault’s car (because he apparently had a rover) and they would return for the night. Their destination was meant to be some pretty mountain view, but Sinclair doubted it would be a better sight than the Great Lake. 

Once they had agreed on the details they all departed as fast as they could - no one wanted to spend time together if it wasn’t necessary.

Sinclair and Sancho were the last one to leave the room. They both stared at the now-destroyed table (courtesy of Outis and her giant scissors). 

"... Sancho, do you think we will survive it?"

"... We'll have to wait and see, Sinclair"

The damned day had arrived sooner than Sinclair expected. 

For the last two hours, he was ordering some of his fellow siblings on how to work with the Bloodfiends in La Manchaland during the time him and others went out. Sinclair also stated that if anyone from Fanghunt Office came to harass, just kill those guys and feed the bodies to the Bloodfiends. 

Before going, he received some advices from Heathcliff, and they are all about romance advices. Did the Big Brother think he had romantic feelings towards Sancho? There's no way they would be a couple. Sure, he actually does has feelings for her, but no way she would accept at all. Besides, Heathcliff's advices are terribly bad, and he can see that Sancho would kill him right away if he said those.

“Where are you, dear Sinclair?” the Middle Little Brother groaned in annoyance as Rodion yelled from outside, reminding that hell was waiting for him.

“Firstly don’t yell like that, Miss Rodion, secondly I’m coming.”

Meursault’s rover was huge. It was silver in color with a huge cargo and lamps that were the size of Outis' head. Outside the car was decorated with some of the chain tattoos, and a huge Middle symbol tattoo was painted on the car hood.

Sinclair threw his two bags unto the batch that were already in the cargo and jumped in the back of the car.

Meursault was the one driving, next to him was Rodion. In the back sat Sinclair, Sancho, Outis, and Gregor. No one greets him except the Priest.

“Are we ready?” The Middle Brother looked back in the mirror, before stepping on the brakes.

Sinclair could feel himself slightly relax in the car. Meursault is a good driver. He knew that Gregor somehow used to have a drivers license, although it was invalid due to his status as a Bloodfiend. Sancho and Rodion never mentioned whether they can drive or not, but if he had to guess, they probably not. Sinclair could drive but he didn’t have a license. As for Outis, same reason as the two Second Kindreds.

“I’m bored. Are we there?” Outis chirped and put an origami boat on Sancho's head. She was displeased with it but couldn't do anything against the Barber’s antics.

“No. We have been basically on the road for twenty minutes.”

For five minutes it was quiet. Then Rodion decided that it was time for car games, whatever it meant.

“Everyone, let’s play two truths, one lie!”

“What is that?”

“You say three sentences. Two of them are true and one is a lie and the others have to find out which is which. Whatcha say~?” The Princess beamed at the Little Brother.

“I’ll start,” Gregor said and thought for a second. “Okay. One, I am fifty, two, I like sake, three I like praying.”

Sinclair stared at the Priest for a bit before replying.

“It's the first one. The lie is that you are fifty, because you are sixty.”

“Well, yeah, but -”

“Hey, I had seen sixty year olds in better shape,” Outis chided in. “I would say he is at least seventy-two.”

“Not you too, Outis… Whatever, you have a point, but because I’m forty!” 

“Sure. And I’m eighteen.” the Barber jested.

'Since when did she have a sense of humor?'

“Really?” Sinclair commented. “Well, then, I am the next one. One, I like praying, two I don't have a love interest, three I hate streamers.”

Sancho was on the edge to jump out of the car. Too bad it was a desolated plain.

“It’s easy, two.” Gregor said.

"What, how did you... Whatever, you're right. I do have a love interest."

Sancho was taken a bit that Sinclair - the all-serious, totally rude Emil Sinclair, that Emil Sinclair who is about to become a Middle Young Brother - has feelings for someone? This is something she didn't expect at all.

“By the way kid, I didn't know you like praying. I thought I was the only one here.” 

“I went to the church for praying when I was 9. Since then, it became a hobby of mine. Even after joining the Middle, that didn't change at all."

“You go to the church? Call me and I’ll arrange some sessions for you at my area. My fellow Bloodfiend of Prayers would like your presence here.” Gregor and Sinclair started talking about some church jargon that Sancho didn’t understand, so she just looked outside.

It was a big plain area where they were, without trees or cities, but in the far a mountain was already visible.

She listened to the conversation, which was absolutely not what he expected. Who expected Sinclair and Gregor to bond over their hobby of praying? Moreover, who expected that Sinclair does actually have a crush on someone?

Surely it can't be her, right?

“Can we stop? I may have motion sickness.” Outis grumbled.

“Sure, Outie~.”

“Please, don’t call me that, Lady Rodion.”

Once the car stopped, Outis jumped out of the car and started pacing back and forth, to stop his dizziness.

“You okay, Miss Barber?” Meursault asked from the driving seat.

“Yeah, just a minute.”

After that, Outis hopped back into the car. Once she finally settled her seat, they started going again.

“Miss Barber, there is a pouch under the seat. There are some crackers in it, it may help with the nausea.”

Outis opened it up. There were indeed several packs of animal crackers there, along with a pack of bubblegum as well.

“Thank you.”

For the rest of the road, Sancho listened to the conversation between Sinclair, Gregor, and Outis, to her greatest surprise, until she fell asleep.

Sancho woke up to someone opening her door. She thought that she slept through the entire thing - turned out she slept for one hour at most.

“We just stopped at a gas station, and we woke you up in case you wanted to go to the toilet,” Sinclair explained, his cheeks dusted in pink. It didn't take a while for Sancho to realize that she had been slept on Sinclair's shoulder, which was the main reason for his pink cheeks.

The Second Kindred jumped in embarrassment at this shenanigan.

"You okay, Sancho? Is there something wrong?" the Middle Brother asked. "You can stay in the car if you are so against it.”

“No, no, I just… nevermind that. Let's go.”

The gas station was empty, with only a sleepy shop assistant who was reading a Fixer magazine.

Meursault was looking at a pair of new windscreen wipers. Rodion was checking whether there was a nice umbrella or not. Outis and Gregor were bickering over the snacks they decided to buy for the trip.

“Do you want to buy something?” Meursault asked the group once they recuperated.

“Do we even have money?” Outis stated.

The stern Brother pulled out two credit cards and looked at them.

“So what do you want?”

“Do we have to spend the money?” Sancho asked.

“Well, our Big Brother Heathcliff gave this for us. I guess that since Sinclair is about to be promoted, he gave him as a gift.”

'More like he wants me to have a nice date with Sancho.' Sinclair grumbled.

“I will go back to the car. Can I have another animal cracker, Meursault?”

“Sure, Miss Outis. Although, it might be best if you switch places with Miss Rodion, because of the motion sickness.”

"You can have my seat, Outie~. I will go down there and play with my two favorite blondes and Gregor." the Princess exclaimed.

Sinclair would have dared to say that the trip was going rather well, but then misfortune happened again as two motorcycles chased after them.

“Oh, I wonder what they want…” Meursault mumbled as he turned down.

A thug with some stupid hairstyle walked to the car with his hands in his pockets. He knocked hard on the window, to what Meursault had rolled it down.

“Ah, why, hello there. Do you know why I stopped you?”

“Why?"

Outis besides him was staring back with an annoyed expression as another thug was looking into the car.

"Something is wrong... Stay here." Sinclair said as he opened the door, chains already on his hands.

"You see, idiot... You just went through our territory. We, the Workhorsemen, aren't happy that you just ignored us."

“Oh, really?” Meursault replied. “I didn’t see it. In fact, I don't know who the Workhorsemen are, cause I haven't even heard any news of you at all.”

“Well, now you know us. As punishment, if you want some forgiveness, then give us all your money and the car quickly”

"I don't think this would happen, idiot."

The thug turned around and saw Sinclair who had just killed the other thug, eyes glaring coldly.

Before he could progress what was happening, out of nowhere, Outis grabbed his neck with high speed.

"Title 7, Section 141, Row B… Attempting to rob and threaten a member of the Middle. Result in breaking arms and legs." Meursault calmly opened the Book of Vengeance and checked, "However, my fellow Brother has a new rule: Instant death for you."

"No…!" The thug tried to scream but no avail, as Outis already sliced his throat with her knife.

"Let regret be your last thought, "The Workhorsemen". You should not have threatened the Middle."

"And another one bite the dust~" Rodion said in a sing-song tone.

Sinclair then ordered Meursault to give him some minibags and a cooler to fill up with the blood of the dead thugs. That way their Bloodfiend friends can have some extra meal, and honestly, somehow it was worth it.

“Are we there?” Sinclair asked.

“Yes, we’ve arrived.” Meursault replied and turned the motor off. 

They were there.

In the middle of nothing. Trees were lining up in front of them, but otherwise, it was nothing peculiar. 

Gregor expected more from his first trip. The air was really good though. Sinclair and Sancho, however, both seemed unamused by it.

“Hey, hey, youngsters!” Rodion boomed. “And not so youngsters…” She turned to Gregor who was not amused at her words. “We are here to go on a trip in the forest! Not getting back in the car!” Sancho seemed like he would kill her fellow Second Kindred the moment they would get back. “So everyone get your packages and give them to funkyman, and start going.”

“My name is Rodion, the Princess of La Manchaland!” she burst at the chance of the sudden introduction.

“Oh, really, we haven’t introduced each other. Meursault, a Little Brother of the Middle, nice to meet you.”

They shook hands. 

Sinclair wanted to jump off a cliff.

“Can we go?” Sancho grumbled.

They had finally departed once Meursault and Rodion signaled that they're good to go. 

The hike was fine by Sinclair’s standards. It wasn’t too bad, he was already used to going up and down the stairs and hallways in the Middle's main mansion.

On one of these breaks, Outis was sitting on a rock, eating animal crackers, looking at the greenery. In the vaunted “Fantasy Blood-Shooting” attraction, everything was eccentricly frilly and over the top.

Meanwhile, Gregor was close to death, Meursault was carrying Sinclair and still not out of breath. Rodion in all honesty, was another brand of energy. She was continuously jumping and running around. Sancho’s feet, on the other hand, was hurt and she didn’t walk half the amount of the other.

“I’m fine, we can go.”

They reached the top at around five o’clock in the evening. The sky had a pretty reddish color, and Sancho could see far away, but not further than usual. She was unnaturally relaxed, the way she hadn’t been since she went outside for the first time today.

"This is why they say hiking is great?"

Rodion slapped her shoulder.

“You should take breaks more often. You’ve got some color, unlike that one.” She poked at Gregor, who made it to the top, but was out of breath.

“Yes, this is nice.” 

Truly, the air felt nice and the way her feet hurt was all very…uh, comforting? She couldn’t put her emotions into words at the moment.

.

.

.

.

After that, hell went loose.

Chapter Text

After some time to recuperate - and for Sancho and Outis to get some energy - they started going back. 

In the middle of the way back, it eventually got dark. 

None of them were scared from the night, but they were worried about what would happen to them in the forest. Sinclair just hoped that there won't be any awful misfortune against them again.

And to his misfortune, again, he heard a metallic cling, and then a voice bellowed.

“Stop everyone! It seems like you have strayed to our god’s area.” A strange man appear, hands holding up a torch and a sword. 

Behind him there were around twenty more people, holding swords and shields and some other stuffs.

“Your god’s area? We were already here for a while.” Gregor turned to them, even though there was a sword pointed at his chin.

“It is nighttime when his kingdom comes.” The man said in an elusive tone. 

“Well, this is getting embarrassing. We were already on the leave, so if ya don’t mind, we’ll get on the road.”

“No! If someone passes through the kingdom who isn’t the god’s servant, they must be sacrificed.” He croaked. 

Sinclair's sanity is steadily deteriorating and starts getting sick of this nonsense. However, he decided to let the Priest speak on their behalf.

“Who is your god?” Gregor asked.

“The God in Blue.” The men had all fallen on their knees at the name like worshippers.

“So it was not a gang, but a cult?”

“Just what I don't need most, a fucking cult,” Sancho mumbled. She noticed that both Meursault and Rodion had disappeared. ‘Where did they go?’

“We should follow them, and see if they truly have some physical proof.”

“We have, dear sacrifice. We have.” One of the men said.

‘This just gets weirder by every minute.’

After a few minutes' walk they reached a camp. There were around twenty tents and a big fire, some hippie-looking youngsters, but they didn’t stop there. Their leader, the man with the torch and the sword led them into the forest again. There was a small trail into the depth.

“Now, dear sacrifices. You must walk down to The God in Blue. If you can gain its benevolence, then your path is free to the civilization, but if not, do not fret - The God in Blue will make good use of you,” the man monotoned. “By my small tribe, I bless you with fortune bestowed upon me by my great-”

The man couldn’t finish the sentence. There was a sound of an engine, and then Meursault’s car hit the man in full force. The man’s fortune didn’t last against the van. 

Outis looked at the person behind the steering wheel and was greeted by the Princess’ manic smile. 

"He yapped too much so we just kill him."

“What about the tribespeople?” 

“Already finished." Sancho said as she just killed the rest of the tribe with her Hardblood Arts in mere seconds.

“Gregor, is there something here in the dark?”

“No, I can’t see anything from the trees.” The Priest sighed. “Should we leave?”

“I’m interested in what made them believe in that,” Rodion added.

“Probably some shitty speech from N Corp.” Outis pondered.

They were going for a few minutes in complete darkness because the man’s torch broke upon the ‘accident’. 

Suddenly they met with a pair of big blue eyes. 

It was on top of a giant toad-like creature with light gray blue skin.

“Not gonna lie, but it's cute,” Sancho admitted.

“Isn't that... A fucking abnormality?” Sinclair narrowed his eyes, "Blubbering Toad? That thing is the so-called God in Blue?"

“You know it?" Sancho asked. The Brother nodded.

“I've read some documents from old L Corp bases. One of them said about that creature."

“So, what are we going to do?" Gregor asked.

“Just let it be. Judging from its look, the creature is really sad.” Outis said.

“Aww, really? But we should adopt him! He is totes adorbs!” Rodion sighed and dramatically dropped her shoulders.

"No, absolutely not." Sancho deadpanned, "We should go back to the rover now before it's gonna do something."

In the end, they got back to the rover which was parked in the middle of the forest. They all took their usual spots, Outis in the passenger’s seat, glancing to the back row. Sinclair and Sancho were snoozing off in the middle, while the two other Bloodfiends were checking their packages.

'There was an abandoned camp on the way here, maybe we can stop there.' Meursault thought.

Once they arrived, Meursault checked the abandoned camp. Not only its residents, but the tents and the fire pit too were not there. A perfect place for them to camp here tonight.

 "Everyone, I suggest that we should camp here for tonight, since it's already dark at the moment." the Little Brother suggested.

“So we are having a sleepover?” Rodion chirped in excitement and grabbed two bottles from a package. “Although I have only two…”

Gregor looked at the two bottles of vodka with mild thrill.

"Fine by me, I guess." Sinclair grumbled. "We don't have no choice anyways but to spend the night here and get out in the morning."

Outis was running around in madness, pulling his hair in hysteria. Rodion was trying to calm her down.

“Does she often do that?” Sinclair glanced at Sancho.

“Only when something is not good for her taste.” the Second Kindred explained.

"Speaking of, we already went for all day, wouldn't your Father miss you?"

"Eh, he was focusing on something else, so I think he will be fine without me. I also feel like I have to take a break from him.”

"Understandable."

By the time Outis had calmed down, both Meursault and Gregor had gathered some wood sticks and come back.

"Brother Sinclair, can you give me the flamethrower? It's in the car trunk."

The blonde then went to open the car trunk, bringing out a flamethrower to Meursault, who set the wood on fire.

"Thanks for your service, dear Meursault." Rodion blew him a kiss. However, the wind somehow had blown through the fire, which accidentally set Sancho's long hair on fire.

“Aaagh! Help me!” Sinclair could hear Sancho screaming. He quickly ran to her and put off the fire by using his jacket.

Sancho looked disappointed, as a part of her long hair was burnt. Sinclair's face shown a little sadness.

“I’m done with my life.”

"Rotten luck."

Thankfully that a small part of her hair was burnt, so it was easy for Outis to fix her hair.

“Don’t worry, I have been on worse trip than this before.” Sinclair tried to relax her. He was cooking some steaks he had brought from home earlier.

Sancho didn’t say a word, mainly because of the fact that her hair accidentally got on fire. She felt it was getting harder to keep her eyes open.

“Don’t fall asleep, Sancho. We still haven't eaten dinner yet.” 

Sinclair was sitting next to her, handing her a camping mug filled with blood that he got from who knows where (Meursault's car). He had already eaten the dinner so the Bloodfiend could look at him without repugnance.

Outis yawned before entering the tent that Meursault had set earlier. Rodion was already sleeping in there, so she caught and held the Barber like a plushie.

“You are a capable person, Sinclair” the Manager noted.

“Huh? What’d you expect from me?”

“No, it’s just that, compared to everyone else… I didn’t know what to think about you if you get what I mean.”

Sinclair smiled softly at her.

“Thanks, but to be honest, we both are the most normal within this group. I just know how to lead and stay calm even in dire situations. The pros of being a Middle member,” Sinclair explained and sipped from his mug. Based on the smell, it was from the vodka that Rodion had brought. “You should learn how to unwind sometimes. You don’t have to be that airheaded like her, no offense,” He pointed at the tent where Rodion was even laughing in her sleep. “But letting go sometimes is great. Or the stress is going to eat you up and you’ll look like Big Brother Heathcliff.”

Sancho laughed at that.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t want to end up like that.”

“If you are all good, get some sleep, Meursault and Gregor will be on the lookout, so don't worry.” He pointed at the rover where the two men were watching inside.

Both of them entered the second tent and then lay down on the mattress. Sinclair then handed Sancho a pillow before putting the blanket on them, going for some sleep.

"Sinclair, Sinclair."

"Hmm?"

The Middle Brother was suddenly waken up at 2 PM by a certain Second Kindred who was looking at him with a strange expression.

"Something wrong, Sancho?"

"... I can't sleep." she mumbled. "I've been thinking about some certain thing in my mind."

"Let me guess: You want to talk about this with me?" Sancho nodded, "Do you want to talk here or?"

"Let's go for a walk, shall we?" she asked.

"Sure." Sinclair grabbed his jacket before leaving the tent with Sancho. As they walked around, he glanced at the rover. Surprisingly, Meursault and Gregor were sleeping inside.

'They must have been really tired, and sleepy also.'

"The moon's so bright tonight, don't you think?" Sancho pointed at the moon. Sinclair had to admit, it's pretty rarely to see a good moon scene in the City.

"As the moon shines bright. 
Illuminating the night. 
So too does the heart."

"I didn't know you're good at making poems." Sancho chuckled.

"Just something I've learnt from middle school." Sinclair replied. The Brother spotted a nearby tree, "Do you want to talk while looking at the sky?"

The Manager nodded as the two arrived at the tree, sitting next to each other. The smell of Sancho's long hair made itself known to Sinclair: it was rose.

'Had to admit, she smells really good.'

"Feeling better?" Sancho nodded at the question, "So, what do you want to talk about?"

"I..." Sancho paused for a bit before continuing, her cheeks dusted in bright red, "Sinclair, I... I would like to take you on a date."

Silence.

The silence had been around them for a while until Sinclair, who widened his eyes in surprise, spoke first.

"Eh... EHHHHHH?!" He yelped, "I'm sorry, what? Are you serious?"

"I'm serious." the Manager confessed as she moved closer, her hand on his lap, "Ever since you entered my life, your presence makes my life a little bit better. Not just that, but I start feeling something for you."

She then grabbed his hand and directed her eyes to his, "That feeling... is love... And I want you, Sinclair. And I don't want you to be taken by anyone else." 

Looking back into Sancho's eyes, nothing but pure emotion was drenched in them, pouring out into Sinclair's heart as he couldn't believe what he was doing. Her, the Manager of La Manchaland actually liked him, a Middle Little Brother? He couldn't believe it, this had to be him misunderstanding something.

"D-do you really mean that?"

"W-wha-, of course I do! What do you think I meant?!" Frustrated with the fact that Sinclair thought she was saying something else, Sancho shook him vigorously, causing his head to bob back and forth.

"W-well, I just didn't expect you to like me... I thought it could be something else, like maybe you wanted to get information about me-"

"Gah! Fine, how about this," Sancho grabbed Sinclair's cheeks with both of her hands, sat on his lap, and this time actually was above her crush.

"I... I love you, Emil Sinclair!" She said, her face glowing a deep red, "does that clear up your doubts?" 

Sinclair, recalibrating his mind as he went through what he had heard, simply nodded slowly, "Y-yeah, I got it."

Sinclair had no idea what to say. This was the first time in his life he had ever been confessed to, at least directly. And Sancho was the one confessed to him.

"S-so...? What do you say?" Just looking at Sancho, Sinclair noticed how her body shook. Every part of her looked worried, and her eyes glistened and shined as the water within them welled up. He could tell she was absolutely terrified by this answer, probably because of the bluntness of her own.

And here he thought he was the one nervous about that. Big Brother Heathcliff was right on the spot: Sinclair does actually have feelings for Sancho.

"Heh," a low chuckle came from him, "And here I thought that I was about to be rejected by you. What a twist of fate it is."

"So what you're saying is..."

"Yes, Lady Sancho. I accept your confession," Sinclair confessed, his cheeks reddened like a tomato, "In fact, I actually have feelings for you for a while."

"But I was afraid that you would reject my confession so I kept these within me. I didn't expect that you feel the same for me as well." the Brother responded gently, trying his best to get his feelings across.

At that response, Sancho didn't say anything. But he knew she wanted to. Looking at her face, he could only hope she wasn't mad at his response.

But what he found made him slightly shocked.

She was smiling, her eyes no longer glistening and her body longer shaking. What was present on her face, however, was a look of happy, one that shined beyond the skies and the waters below and could only make Sinclair blush. She looked so beautiful in the moment, and he almost couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"That..." she said, breaking him out of his trance as she put her head on his chest, "Is not what you should be saying to me."

"Sorry about that."

"But alas, for you, I will make an exception. But, my dear Sinclair, you should remember one thing..." 

Sancho looked up at Sinclair, taking a hold of his cheeks once more.

And, in a split second, she kissed him directly on the lips, remaining there for a few seconds before splitting away.

"You will be mine, no matter what happens. I will not let you get stolen from me," he could only nod, facing the whiplash of the kiss.

"Message received." he nodded, before wrapping his hands over her waist, "You want to stay here for a little bit more, right?"

"Of course, we still have time."

"As you wish, Lady Sancho."

"Hey, don't call me that! I've heard that way too much!" She yelled, pouting at him and slightly hitting his chest.

"Yeah, I know," Sinclair patted her hair, "I was only joking."

"You better be."

The two lovers then spent the rest of their time looking at the stars, before going back to their tent while holding hands. Sancho then hugged Sinclair like a teddy bear as soon as they laid down on the mattress, and the latter couldn't help but blush in embarrassment.

"Good night, Sinclair."

"Good night, Sancho."

Morning set in and both the two blondes woke up to the smell of frying egg and sausage. They quickly stood up and opened the tent.

The smell came from Meursault’s frying fan, which he was holding over the fire. 

“Good morning, my two favorite blondes! I hope you are feeling better.” Rodion cheerfully greeted as Sancho was getting out of the tent.

"Miss Outis, what are you doing?" Sinclair could feel a menacing aura from behind him as soon as he was outside, so he turned around and saw the Barber was towering above him.

“Uh, marshmallows taste really well once burned to crisp… Wanna try?”

“No sweet this morning,” Gregor reminded but made Outis pout like a little kid.

“Gregor, you still have that flamethrower?” Meursault asked, “A little help here since the fire is getting weaker and these won’t pop.”

“What are you doing?” Sinclair asked and went closer to the borderline crime scene.

“Oh, I’m cooking some frying eggs and sausages for breakfast.”

Gregor held up the flamethrower, “Are you ready?”

“All set.”

Meursault replied, flipping the frying pan, while Gregor set him on fire. After finishing the main course, the Stern Brother then toasted some pinecone seeds and acorns as appetizer, before serving on the camping table.

“Breakfast is ready!” Rodion shouted. “Not the best, but better than nothing.”

Looking at Meursault, the edges of his clothes were charred and reeked a burnt smell. Otherwise, he seemed fine.

Sancho took an acorn from the small plate and chewed on it. It wasn’t bad, but rather nutty and sweet.

“So now after breakfast, we just get out of the forest?” Sinclair peeped.

“Yes. Once we get out of the forest, the road would be clear for us to leave. Miss Rodion and I had already checked the map earlier."

"I see." the Middle member nodded in understanding.

"All set, everyone?" Rodion asked once everyone entered the car after cleaning their camp. Their seats were just like the beginning, since aside of Meursault, Rodion was the only person can direct where they should go.

"All set, sister." Sancho yawned. She was still sleepy due to not getting used to waking up this early. Sinclair gently laid her head on his shoulder so that she can get relaxed during the trip.

"Then we should get going now." Gregor chimed as Meursault turned on the car engine, signaling their leaving at this moment.

After getting out of the forest, Rodion suggested that they should arrive at La Manchaland first. After all, during their absences, Sinclair ordered some of his underlings to help their Bloodfiend employees to take care of this place.

The last thing they expected would be them fighting against each other, and they absolutely doesn't want that to happen at all.

Four hours later, the car had finally arrived at the amusement park. During the trip, Rodion and Meursault had a little chat, while the rest were falling asleep (except Gregor who was reading a book). The only most notably thing happened down there would be Sancho and Sinclair sleeping together while holding hands.

Outis blessed the two organizers the moment they finally back home, and couldn’t wait to get back to her area to design some clothes.

“You know Sinclair, I actually enjoyed talking with you, despite being a short conversation.”

The younger man looked at her with some sort of fondness.

“Nice to hear it, but next time we should talk about designing clothes. I heard you have some good ones.”

“Sure.”

Inside the Manager's office, two nameless employees, one Middle underling and one Bloodfiend from the Parade area, were sitting in front of their bosses.

"So," Sinclair spoke first, "while we were out, did anything bad happen here during our absence?"

"Brother Sinclair, yesterday's job was going well. Us siblings and the Bloodfiends had been working together very smoothly. Although, yes, just as you thought, there was a problem."

"How so?"

"Yesterday, at 3 PM, there was a group came to harass us. They consisted of some Fanghunt Office members, one Zwei Fixer, and one Cinq Fixer."

"Tch, Fixers... always being nuisances." Sancho clicked her tongue, "Continue."

"Lady Sancho, there was a chance that our amusement park would be branded wrongly as 'filthy place' and 'full of lowly trash'. Apparently, the Cinq Fixer was a famous streamer, and not only was he rude at us, but he also trashed some attraction areas and spreading some false information about us."

"..."

"Sinclair, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Sancho. So... Did you happen to have the name of that... streamer fixer?"

"I believe his name was Camille. The Zwei Fixer, named Paula, was his cameraman."

The Bloodfiend employee and the Middle underling stared in fear as Sinclair's face was darkened. Even Sancho was taken aback at his sudden attitude change.

'So what he said about hating streamers is true?!'

However, the Little Brother then suddenly took a deep breath, before leaving the office. Knowing what he was gonna do, Sancho followed after him.

'Welp, that streamer is finished. You reap what you sow.' the two employees shared the same thought in mind.

A few days later, Camille's streaming channel was deleted, as news reported that him and his cameraman Paula were found dead on the street. Rumors said that he offended both the Middle and La Manchaland by spreading false information about them and his death was considered as his demise for badmouthing someone.