Chapter Text
Jia Baoyu could only bite his lip, blood mixing with the dripping liquids of his rotting eye socket as he gripped onto his staff just a bit harder. He was too late. Of course he was. In fact, when wasn’t he? He was too late to save his dear Ishmael from the effects of the Anamnaworm, resulting in her to be slain with his own hands. Too late to save the Kong family from the terrible incident at their laboratory. Too late to save himself.
Lin Daiyu’s corpse laid at his feet, mouth parted as something that could be depicted as stomach acid seeped out from those pale lips excruciatingly slowly. The pungent scent of blood and nauseating rot brought an unwelcome sensation to him. Baoyu had warned Daiyu countless times to not be reckless, begged her to just listen to him despite her burning hatred towards the lord. Yet her burning will had eventually led to her painful demise.
This unstoppable resolve, the thing Baoyu found most attractive, was the reason why she too died to his hand.
“Daiyu, sweet Daiyu…” Jia Baoyu muttered slowly, her name tasting bitter against his tongue. But despite it all, he couldn’t help but chant her name like a prayer. “My sweet, sweet Daiyu… how you have met such an unfortunate fate. It is said that the sights of spring seldom stay, how flowers bloomed and grew from your steps and touch. How I wish you’d touch me with your hands like how you managed to touch my heart with your soul.”
With slight hesitation, he turned towards Faust (whose existence was almost forgotten about) to give her his guangdao, both hands now free to peacefully carry his beautiful Daiyu. “Faust, please bring the weapon back to my room. I’d most enjoy some moments alone to… collect my thoughts.”
Faust merely nodded in obedience. “Of course. Your wish is my command, my lord.”
The environment wasn’t particularly solemn, but Jia Baoyu’s gloomy demeanor lowered Hongyuan’s morale by so much that no amount of Ahn could make anyone in his vicinity feel any form of glee. Flowers wilted at every one of his treaded steps, arms weighed down by the feeling of the corpse held tightly in his grasp. There were numerous murmurs and a plethora of gasps while the lord slowly retreated to his quarters.
“Tsk… did he mercilessly slain yet another innocent?” One hissed out.
Someone with a concerned expression spoke up. “I-I don’t think that’s an enemy… look at Jia Baoyu’s expression!”
The others nodded in concurrence.
“Yeah! I heard he didn’t even look so upset when he killed Ishmael–”
A quick, rigid turn of the head towards these clamoring citizens was all it took to shut them up.
Jia Baoyu had formed together a somewhat burial for Lin Daiyu. It was simple. Barren. Something the lord hadn’t even expected that he’d do himself. Just a couple of blue snapdragons and a small urn. How he’d turn her body into ashes was something he’d think about another time. This was enough progress for the usually stoic man.
It seemed that the concept of boredom had completely left the dazed male. He simply found himself sitting flatly on his bed, kicking his guangdao under the bed with an exasperated sigh. Faust had done exactly as he wished, yet he still despised the deference nevertheless. That was the weapon that led to Lin Daiyu’s death after all. How could he not abhor the mere sight?
Yet… weren’t his hands also the cause? Jia Baoyu gritted his teeth. The stupid, horrendous stretched out flesh and bones and muscle connected to his wrists were the reason Lin Daiyu wasn’t by his side.
I need them gone.
He cleared his throat.
“Faust, I need you to—”
There was suddenly the knock of a door. “... yes?”
He could recognize the pattern with the snap of a wrist.
“My lord… what is making your complexion darken so?” Yi Sang asked with slight hesitation, approaching closer to the gloomy man who frowned in response.
“Pay no mind, Yi Sang. You can rest easy, this is something I’ll have to deal with.” Jia Baoyu didn’t even comprehend the words coming out of his own mouth as the images of Lin Daiyu flashed through his mind. “So leave. Now.”
The atmosphere of his living space was excruciatingly suffocating. Both men were on opposite ends, one sitting on the edge of their bed while the other standing awkwardly at the door.
Yi Sang opened his mouth as if to say something only to close it immediately after. What words were there to be said after all? Jia Baoyu would usually utilize his listening skills to host occasional splurges and makeshift vents on everyday life. But now his offer was only responded to in a chilling voice. It was normal… yes, considering the owner of those words, but he didn’t like it nevertheless. Yi Sang didn’t enjoy it one bit.
“I see.” Is all he chose to respond with before turning around, not even bothering to close the door behind him.
Yi Sang wasn’t exactly fond of his lord. Jia Baoyu did murder Ishmael after all, leaving a burning hatred in his chest. However, all fires are bound to go out. And Yi Sang followed this memo rather quickly. It was difficult to keep such strong feelings for someone, especially due to the fact that it was him. And after learning about the process of becoming Hirarch… he could only reluctantly find his lord understandable at best.
He should’ve considered himself lucky. As being part of the Heishou branch, he had it about as good as it could get, figuratively speaking. Other than Faust, Yi Sang was most likely the closest to their lord. He found himself often being summoned as Jia Baoyu’s right wing, always at his side for combat and even everyday life. Perhaps he did consider himself lucky.
He came back a few minutes later to close the door. Jia Baoyu didn’t bother to look up.
It wasn’t hard to add two and two up together, mainly with the announcement of Lin Daiyu’s death spreading around the land of Hongyuan over the weeks. She was dear to many, and Jia Baoyu included. Yi Sang knew this. In fact, he considered himself accustomed to his uncanny obsession towards the charming female. Well at least he used to. It was better when the lord’s advances were very obviously not reciprocated. Now she’s dead. Now there’s no one to reject him anymore.
Yi Sang would spontaneously find himself drifting towards his lord’s isolated room that’s been locked for days. He would want to open the door, want to just hold Jia Baoyu in his arms until his memories of Daiyu were all gone. Want, need to gain his attention only to hear his quiet groans from the other side of the door.
“Aah… Daiyu…” Jia Baoyu’s voice would occasionally call out, “my Daiyu, how I miss you.”
Yi Sang didn’t want to conceptualize what he could’ve been doing.
How long has it been going on for? Hours, months, years? Well… a week at most, but it felt like centuries to the agitated Yi Sang. He hasn’t seen his lord for days too long, the only source of connection being the rare, mindless murmurs from Jia Baoyu. Yi Sang had comfortably come to the conclusion that he not only found this lack of communication annoying, but despised it as well.
He couldn’t deal with this isolation anymore.
Only because he was so used to his schedule being full… of course. Definitely so.
After a minute of pacing around mindlessly, Yi Sang gained the courage to knock on Jia Baoyu’s door. “My lo—”
“Ah… Yi Sang. Come in.”
“—rd… oh. Well I am not one to decline such an offer.”
And so he obliged. Though rather slowly, each hesitant step occasionally faltering as he felt Jia Baoyu’s stare bore into his skin. It took a hot minute until Yi Sang was standing in front of his lord, debating whether or not he should sit next to him or stay upright.
“Well?” Jia Baoyu asked slowly, “You’re here for a reason after all.”
“I was merely curious about your current well being,” he answered cautiously. “I wanted to see if you were feeling more content now.”
“Hah… as if you’d care about how I feel physically or mentally,” he hissed, causing Yi Sang to take a step back in surprise. “You must have an ulterior motive.”
“You’d… seriously consider that I adopted ideas in hopes of gaining self benefit.”
“Yes.”
Yi Sang frowned. Jia Baoyu shrugged dismissively.
“You sincerely misunderstand,” he mused slowly, creeping towards his lord with hesitation. “I’m here for your sake, not anyone else’s.”
“Is that so?” Jia Baoyu muttered, staring at his belt instead of the man in front of him. “Well I’m sure you know the reason for such digression.”
Yi Sang nodded in response, despite the lack of sight gazing upon him. Then, soon realizing that factor, quickly answered with a “yes”. The lord only raised his eyebrows in acknowledgment.
It was a quick conversation between the two, but fret not! Yi Sang had multiple other times to get him out of his depressive state.
It was only a couple more daily visits before Jia Baoyu left his living quarters without being asked or reminded to. Faust was able to walk by his side again and Yi Sang nearby. She would occasionally glance over at him, giving a nod in a makeshift thanks. Yi Sang always nodded back. However, his eyes never quite met hers.
They were always occupied by his lord’s. His fingers would always itch to clean off that disgusting rag covering what used to be his Jade eye. He could even see some chunks of rotten mush build up. It had to be uncomfortable to fall asleep with that annoyance every night.
So it was natural that Yi Sang felt obliged to visit every night as well.
“Come in,” Jia Baoyu called out as he was repositioning his belt at the sound of the male’s knocks.
Yi Sang came in holding a wet towel and another set of white rags.
“May I…?” He held both items in front of him for his lord to see.
“Ah… it’s been a while.” A tone of nostalgia almost shone through his voice. “Yes, of course.”
“Why is this duty pushed upon me anyway?” Yi Sang asked quietly, walking forwards to press his fingers against the disfigured gauze. “There are many other Heishou branches that would also be willing to do this.”
“It’s a reminder.”
“A reminder?”
“That no matter how much you may despise me, you’d never have it in you to slice my throat despite the proximity.”
Yi Sang promptly paused in his ministrations. “You truly do believe I loathe you, huh.”
“… not quite.”
Yi Sang tilted his head in slight confusion before his face formed a grimace at the squelching sound the rag somehow managed to make. He was quick to toss it into a nearby bin, reaching over for the damp towel to dab at the loose flesh.
“It’s different when you do it. If it was Faust or any others there’s no emotion. No history. But when it’s you, Yi Sang…” He briefly paused at the name. “It is less burdening for the both of us.”
“You can’t assume how I feel.”
“Yes I can. I know you, and there is also more color to your previously lifeless cheeks.”
“…”
Yi Sang was quick to reapply the new bandages and swiftly excuse himself.
This usual cycle of visiting Jia Baoyu has become normal throughout the days. What used to consist of awkward, forced conversations now flowed easier. Just like they used to.
“My lord,” Yi Sang started, “do you not feel blinding pain whenever this time of the day is to be inflicted on you?”
Jia Baoyu merely shook his head (to the best of his ability), holding back the grim expression threatening to show. “Not currently. I have other things that have been preoccupying my state of mind.”
Yi Sang hummed in response. It wasn’t difficult to know what had him so deep in thought. The small lidded vase on a nearby desk said it all. The thoughts of his “true love” still lingered in his heart and brain, consuming him ever so slowly.
“Well I do pray you get better soon.”
“Mm.” Jia Baoyu didn’t intend on continuing this conversation any longer. He could only stare at the man delicately cleaning out his rotting eye socket. Those eyes were strangely pretty, even with those square-framed glasses over them.
Huh. It seemed that those eyes were getting closer.
And closer.
Then the towel was dropped onto the floor, the sensation replaced by a cold, callused hand.
And maybe, just maybe the feeling of a pair of lips against his own.
But instead of being met with equal fever, Yi Sang was met with a hasty shove and harsh slap, the frames to his glasses cracking slightly.
“What do you think you’re doing?!” Jia Baoyu yelled out with widened eyes, suddenly standing straight up with gritted teeth.
“A-ah… my apologies…” Yi Sang muttered out slowly, finding himself being stared down from the glaring man. “I didn’t plan on… going through with that action.”
He clenched his fists, not exactly sure what to do with them. “Didn’t plan on? You don’t just accidentally kiss someone.”
“I must’ve been misreading the signs… I’m ver—“
“What signs?! I’ve made it plenty clear that only one woman would have my heart. Not- not a man like you.” The last couple of words rolled off like toxins on his tongue.
“Lying isn’t going to help either of us,” Yi Sang muttered out much to Jia Baoyu’s disapproval.
“I am not one to lie.”
“But you are right now.”
“Tsk… nonsense.”
“Please, my lord. I need you.”
Those words were met with stilling silence.
“You can cry out her name, my lord,” Yi Sang pleaded out with fogged up glasses, “I’ll turn around so you can imagine my hair as hers.”
Jia Baoyu sneered at the desperate man that was groveling at his feet. “... that’s disgusting.”
“Please.”
“You’re disgusting.” Yet despite the cold words, pieces of fabric were slowly dropping onto the ground.