Chapter Text
For years, Klein has had fountain pen ink relentlessly staining his fingers. Whether his soulmate was an avid author or just clumsy, he didn't know.
It had taken him a while to realise it wasn't just his own ink, accumulating from late nights of writing essays by dim gas light, but rather the marks of a future partner.
A soulmate.
In this world, it wasn't uncommon for marks to appear, pairing one to their other half, but they weren't a born connection. The current theory was it was a link borne when two people with matching souls passed each other. The exact distance, the exact delay, no one knew. It wasn't an exact science.
There were many cases where ones marks appeared years before ever saying hello to their soulmate. In such a world with so many people, it was incredibly difficult to notice and match the marks to an encounter. Even more so when neither partner had anything particularly distinguishing upon meeting.
And so, it had taken a while for Klein to notice, and he had no idea really of when it started.
He believed that the ink most likely came from another student at university, but such a vague description made it rather difficult to track his partner down amidst all the essays and such.
Therefore, he felt that it was something best left to fate. They would run into each other again, being soulmates. That was how it worked, so the romantics said. And if the romantics were wrong in this, then a soulmate surely can't be as much as all that.
And so here he was, writing an essay on the role of Fourth Epoch Asymmetry in distinguishing class through fashion, and gently rubbing his eyelids from the late hour.
Yawning slightly, he reached out for his glass of water, and then completely knocked it over.
'...'
Klein silently scorned himself at the sight.
His beautiful, almost finished essay, now a damp haze on a ruined notebook that had cost a total of 5 pence. He would have to dry it out and save any pages he could, Professor Quentin surely wouldn't mind him turning in wrinkled pages for the rest of the term would he?
While the water had spared the library books laid about the table, it had rather annoyingly spilt all over his sleeve, the soggy wetness waking him up with its chill.
Klein frowned as he undid the cuff button and rolled the sleeve up in an attempt to distance his body from the cold, only to see a harsh gash on the arm underneath as he did so.
His soulmate was injured?
Klein scrutinised the wound mark. He wasn't an expert in the matter, only understanding basic first aid, but it didn't look good. The gash was nearly three inches long. Being superficial, he couldn't tell how deep it was, but it surely wasn't merely a scratch.
After a minute of staring, Klein sent a quick prayer to The Goddess to bless his soulmate with good luck (or the absence of bad luck) and packed up his items.
No more work could be done without fresh paper, and there was nothing more he could do for his soulmate.
...
After this incident, Klein took to inspecting his body whenever he had the chance, looking under sleeves and checking his chest, twisting his neck to see his back. What he discovered shocked him.
Frequently, his soulmate would gain a gash, or a mark. Bruises, cuts, scrapes, and even stitches often appeared on his skin along with the less offensive ink stains. These marks most often appeared in late at night, but not always.
This alone was rather concerning.
One night, after another late essay, Klein found that his undressing for bed revealed a series of deep green and almost black bruises all over his chest. It was if he had been struck by something blunt, solid, and with a lot of force. Instinctively, Klein winced when he saw the sight.
An injury like that... It most likely would create the most damage inside the body. What is visible on the skin only shows a small portion of the pain.
Nonetheless, Klein didn't worry about it, and quickly completed his bedtime routine before dozing off peacefully.
There was exactly one reason for his nonchalance. And that was, that these marks would always disappear by morning!
While rather confusing at first, Klein had concluded that there was no way for such injuries, if real, to heal so fast unless his soulmate was superhuman.
Of course, this wasn't possible, so that only left one option.
The injuries were fake!
As to why and how, he figured that his soulmate was probably an actor of sorts. It wasn't uncommon for makeup to be used on stage to give the effect of injuries to the actor, befitting of the role. As to why the marks were never the same twice, or why his face never got covered with stage makeup, Klein didn't worry about it. He simply lacked the relevant information.
And it was in this way that Klein Moretti finished his final year of university, and graduated with a diploma in history.
。。。✧✧✧ 。。。
The original Klein Moretti thought his soulmate might be an actor, but I have a better theory. His soulmate is probably trying to get my concern! By faking injuries, she might instigate my searching for her. In this way, our union might be expedited. How needy.
But as I am first and foremost Zhou Mingrui, from the era of the internet, I absolutely can't get involved with any soulmates in this place anyway.
After reaching such a resolution, Klein sighed to himself and silently sent his condolences to the unknown soulmate.
Regarding the matter of leaving her alone, he didn't feel too guilty. After all, there was another theory that was rather well accepted by the masses.
That was, that a soulmate wasn't that singular one fated person, but rather someone to whom a good chemistry would undoubtedly form. Once such a person was detected by the bodies involved, they would reach out and link to each other.
In other words, there were many options out there, and it was because only the first one would be linked, a person would never know about any others.
Therefore, as the original Klein Moretti had fused with Zhou Mingrui, and his personality would be slightly different, it wasn't impossible that both of their bodies would recognise the change and break the soulmate link. In this case, Klein's current soulmate would form another with the next compatible person she met.
As for if Klein formed a new bond, he also didn't need to worry about it. The moment he returned to his own world that bond would surely break as well, freeing that person from him.
It was only if the marks continued to appear in the same manner that he would need to investigate further.
。。。✧✧✧ 。。。
Two weeks later, Klein found himself looking at his reflection in the mirror.
Pursing his lips, he inspected the conspicous cut marring his shoulder. He found that a growing annoyance accompanied each of these marks that formed on his skin.
And yet, this was for a completely different reason that one might expect.
Yes, the soulmate link hadn't broken. But it turns out there was something even more annoying about the whole situation.
And that was that, he was getting increasingly, quite certain, of who the other was.
Leonard Mitchell...
The name brought a sly smile to his lips. That damned poet hadn't stopped being suspiscously gay ever since Klein had officially joined the Nighthawks. From leaning in close, whispering about 'special dispositions~', and placing a far too friendly arm around his shoulder, Leonard simply had not been letting up in his pursuit.
Frankly, it was embarrasing to watch. Even moreso to be the object of such... Attention.
Klein scoffed as he buttoned up his night shirt the rest of the way.
He thought again of the metaphorical evidence folder he had collected.
Firstly, it was the ink marks. Klein had noticed dark stains along Leonard's fingers during their second meeting, if the brushing past each other in the stairwell could be counted as a first. A midnight poet, he had been introduced as. A fitting explanation for both the constant writing and carelessness while doing so.
Without placing their hands side by side, it would be difficult to be certain that the marks were exactly identical, and not merely coincidental.
Klein wouldn't have thought too much of it at that time, if not for how queer that fellow had acted. He previously hadn't considered that his soulmate link would bond him to a man, but Leonard seemed to prove that it wasn't impossible.
And so he had begun to piece together more information.
To his horror, his little theory had quickly turned rather plausible.
Large injuries that fade suddenly within hours, never the same twice in a row? This perfectly matched his understanding of the activity and abilities of the Nighthawks. He suspected that if he reached through the dossiers and cross referenced it with his diary, he might even find more confirmation of this case.
And now his shoulder - from today's mission most certainly. Klein had overheard in the break room that the outcome had been quite good. For a Sequence 8 Rampager, the only injury had been a 'minor' wound belonging to Leonard. (Minor by the standards of Nighthawks, of course.)
Needy, Klein had called Leonard before meeting him. Now he was realising just how close he had been. The man was so clingy, Klein got the strange feeling that he suspected their link too. He only dreaded Leonard deciding enough was enough and writing a declaration on his own face.
Now that would be difficult to feign ignorance to.
It was a shame, perhaps the original Klein would have enjoyed such an act. But Klein was sure that bemusement was the best reaction Leonard would get from him.
Perhaps he would do some research into breaking soulmate bonds after all. That is, if Leonard stopped annoying him enough to let him feel a sense of guilt about the matter.