𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐍 𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 - Scaramouche

𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗲

'Oh Balladeer, isn't it most painful to dance on the edge of death?'

I remember that someone had asked me that question long ago when I was freshly recruited. With such sincerity, that old man had stared at me with a smile as soft as cherry blossoms falling softly in the spring breeze. I recall it had stirred up fond memories within me of a distant past that I now left long forgotten.

If I was dancing on the edge of death, I was sure that girl was on the edge of life.

She sat across from me now as we rode in the boat, an empty expression on her face as she stared out at the waves splashing outside of the window. Although I'm not one for pleasantries, I may as well try to entertain myself by striking up a conversation with her.

"Do you like the ocean?"

Her eyes didn't even move from the window as she provided no response. I bit the inside of my mouth in annoyance.

"Hello?"

She turned her gaze to me, her soft and dull eyes falling onto my face. "I apologize. I did not think you would want to talk to me."

"I wouldn't have asked you if— ugh, nevermind." I shouldn't have said anything in the first place.

What was I even doing? Trying to stave off my boredom by conversing with a corpse wouldn't do me any good. I turned to stare out the window as well, practically mirroring the position that she had been in seconds ago.

"The ocean is fascinating to me," the girl spoke, her voice quiet, "it can be so beautiful and serene at certain points as well as be murderous and horrific. We don't even truly know what lies deep within the depths... beasts like Osial are confirmed, but there have to be several other species. If I were given a different life, I would want to explore the ocean."

Surprise dwindled through my chest. Not only was this the longest she had ever talked at once, but it was also the only time when she had mentioned anything about her personal aspirations and goals. I don't want to hear about this crap. It was nothing more than a waste of time.

She didn't return the question, most likely out of a want to avoid being rebuked. I couldn't exactly fault her, but at the same time, I was sometimes astounded by the amount of hatred that she managed to hold in such an empty expression.

I didn't really care if she hated me or not. Her abstinence from expressing any amount of human emotion was almost impressive considering the high amount she had bottled up inside of her.

"I won't kill you for talking, you know." It was a foolish statement that a blundering idiot would make, however, it idly escaped from his lips so quickly that he did not have the time to hold it back.

She shifted uncomfortably. "You hate me, correct? I don't see why I should converse with someone that hates me unless it's my duty."

Building such a strong wall to block me, she must've despised me. I could tell that she truly hated me with all of her heart. He met her gaze and found that one side of her lip was curled slightly upwards as she stared at me as if I was a child with no ineptitude. Deep eyes that seemed to probe into my skull, judging me in my entirety, mocking me– she was truly Dottore's creation.

"You're quite good at acting, correct?" I smirked in an equally derogatory expression. "Just act, then."
"Understood," the girl's expression shifted to one of polite formality.

I sincerely hoped that was the last time that I ever had to see that side of her again. Ah.

What a fucking monstrosity. An utterly disgusting excuse for–

I paused for a moment and let a small smile creep onto my lips.

–an excuse of a human being.

Which one of them the words were meant for, I didn't know.

"What do you strive for?" the words had slipped from my mouth before I could prevent them. Whilst I was met with Dottore's cold stare, he seemed unusually bemused by my statement.

"Whatever do you mean? Does one have to strive for something for their morals to align with each other? In particular... there is nothing exactly I strive for," he said those fabricated words to me on a snowy day.

He did not permit me to wear shoes outside as a punishment for me failing my training, so I walked through the snow with bare feet. It had reached the point where my toes had grown numb and red as the cold turned into nothing more than a bitter sensation.

"This world is nothing more than a castle built of sand," Dottore continued on, "a fragile existence that gets washed away easily whenever the tide pulls in."

"A castle... built of sand?" I couldn't understand the true meaning behind his words and only took them at face value.

Dottore stopped for a moment. "You are the same."
I turned to look up at him, feeling my eyebrows furrow in confusion. "I'm not that fragile, Uncle."
His lips curled upwards in mockery. "You are hardly alive to begin with, child. Remember that."

i might continue this one ngl.