Chapter Text
In the darkness of a dingy cell, with your arms and legs fully restrained by rusted shackles, a piercing revelation came over you.
The cruel, ugly world that your step-mother warned you about was something easier to come to terms with than the waning hope that there could be occasional good among the wicked. It was easier to push the world away altogether, refusing yourself the joys of it to protect you from the pains. You wouldn’t miss the beauty of the world if you didn’t have it to begin with.
All you had to do was close your heart.
The current atmosphere made it easy to do, locked away in a dark cell with no certainty for your future — if you still had one. All you had to do was let go.
Yet… still, even so…
The shadow of a burly man fell over the bars of the prison cell. The man unlocked your cell with a key-ring that hung on the wall across from you, then stepped inside to inspect you. With his heavy-set build, you felt confident he was the one that restrained you and pulled you into the alleyway. An unkempt beard hung from his jaw, compensating for the lack of hair on top of his head. His broad arms were like thick tree trunks, toned and marked with scars from battle.
“Well, well,” he remarked, approaching you, “looks like the little kitten is awake.”
You jerked your chains to move away from him, but the length of them didn’t let you move far. His rough, calloused hand cupped your soft cheek, lifting your jaw to inspect a bruise you now rediscovered along the left side. It stung as his finger grazed it.
“Who are you people? What do you want with me?” you asked, keeping your tone as level as possible. You felt like he’d like it if you let yourself be scared and distraught, and the thought of giving him delight repulsed you.
“Aw, don’t worry, pet.” He rubbed your face with his fingers, making your skin crawl. You tried to pull your face away from him, but he only squeezed it in response, making you stay put. You winced from the pain. “It’s nothing personal, and as long as you behave like a good girl, we don’t have any further reason to get rough with you.”
Your gut churned. “And just what do you mean by that?”
“You needn’t worry your sweet little head,” he said, finally releasing your jaw. “Just cooperate, and with a little time, you’ll be in someone else’s hands, and be someone else’s problem. In the meantime, though, you have to be good. Besides — it’s always easier to sell merchandise when it’s not beaten up, and the better buyers prefer girls when they’re still pretty.”
Your heart dropped. Sell merchandise. You were the merchandise. You couldn’t hide the terror on your face, which satisfied him enough to smile as he locked up the cell. He snickered to himself as he hung the keys on the wall and left you stunned.
Alone in the dark once again, tears formed in the corners of your eyes. You had to remind yourself how to breathe again, his words alone having made you forget. Your breaths first came as gasps — sharp, shallow inhales that tried to restrain a sob. You kept yourself from blinking to avoid crying, letting your eyes sting with salt until you couldn’t take it anymore. The next attempt at a slower, calmer breath shook violently until it broke into a faint croak. You covered your face with your hands, though no one was around to observe you. Perhaps you could hide from your own shame.
The world was truly an ugly place.
If you were sold, your life would be a constant reminder of that. A slave to some buyer, used and abused every day. You knew the horror stories of slaves from your step-mother, and she always warned you of them and the misery they faced. Thin, sullen faces, sunken like corpses. Knotted hair. The fortunate ones were fed plump if only to be healthier and more “pleasant” to touch — to pleasure oneself with. Inevitably, they never had any light left in their eyes, no matter how nicely they were fed or cleaned — better accommodations only did much for a soul shattered into thousands of pieces by constant physical and emotional abuse. And then, in the end, they only lasted as long as their beauty did — and if for any longer than that, only so long as they could still scrub the floors.
The thought of being someone like that festered like rot in the pit of your stomach. As mucus clogged your throat and nose, you did everything you could to not throw up.
You were left alone with your spiraling mind for an unhealthy length of time, no one visiting to feed you let alone gawk at you. After crying for some time, you ran through your tears, and they lingered as dried marks across your cheeks. You curled in on yourself, making yourself as small as you felt. Sometimes, you touched your bruises — whenever they stung, it strengthened your frail grip on reality, just a little.
Admittedly, you wished it would make everything disappear like a bad dream, if you only pressed hard enough. But your wounds throbbed, and you hissed through your teeth at the pain whenever you doubled down on them. Reality stayed the same, slowly boiling your sanity away. Something about your situation might have been more bearable if you weren’t stuck alone down here, even if you were the point of mockery.
The imagination was a wicked thing. How had you ever used it to dream of beauty and hope?
Eventually, footsteps approached you, pulling your brain up from the abyss of internalized fears, replacing them with external dread. You tried to uncurl yourself a little, if only to maintain even a fifth of your feigned stoicism. Yet, all attempts to stay strong dropped the moment your visitor came into view.
“Oh, my dear girl!” Your step-mother rushed over to the bars of your cell upon seeing you, reaching to you.
You couldn’t react for an entire second, brain rerouting from whiplash. “Mother? Mother!” You squawked, voice still croaky from crying. You pulled against the chains, but you couldn’t reach her.
“Oh, love, it’s going to be okay,” she said, her voice somewhat hushed. She looked around, and made an ‘a-ha’ as she noticed the keys hanging on the wall. She hurried to the key-ring, then unlocked the cell you were in, scurrying towards you and wrapping you in a tight hug. Tears rolled down her cheeks. “I have you. I have you, dear.”
“Mother… mother,” you repeated, whimpering. Her heartbeat felt warm against your ear.
”Shhh… it’s okay. It’s going to be alright, I’m getting you out of here,” she reassured, trying to comb your matted hair out from your eyes. She fiddled with the key-ring, looking for the keys that corresponded to the chains on your wrists and ankles.
A sudden wave of awareness fell over you. Was someone watching? Could someone have followed her down here? You looked around anxiously, then looked to her. “How on earth did you find me? I thought for sure that I’d never see you again!”
“Oh, and neither I, you! But it seems good fortune was on my side in our time of distress,” she explained, sorting keys. “I was so heartbroken yesterday over our earlier scuffle — oh, to think how angry I had been! — that I couldn’t help but brainstorm what to do about your troubled mind that we might be on the same side once again. If you would believe, I had passed a questionable area in town on my way to the bakery, supposing that a sweet treat might bring us to a chance of re-established union, and I overheard some frightening men scheming with the coming ball that evening. They were planning to exploit guests of the ball as slave merchandise! Oh, but you know me, though I am such a frail woman at my ripened age, I couldn’t stand for this scheming, and so I informed the local authorities.” She sighed, helplessly. “Alas, by the time I could secure the town guards, off they had gone.
“Even so, it troubled me deeply through the afternoon, and so when I came to check in on you last night, I became terrified of what became of you! For you to be out at such a late hour, I was sure it had to do something with the ball — perhaps something told to you in passing, or oh, whatever the matter, it made the most sense — and I did everything I could to hurry and find you. I searched tirelessly that evening, and though I didn’t see you, I did recognize some of those same men slithering about, and so I followed them discreetly, if only to cling to hope. And so, here we are! I waited for an hour that they were busy among themselves, and have snuck in to search for you.” She finished unlocking the cuffs on your wrists and ankles with one of the keys. “Oh, my dear, how fortunate I am to have gathered my bearings, lest I not have had the willpower to search for you!”
You wept a tear from your puffy eyes. The question always lingered in your mind as to what your father had seen in your step-mother. Perhaps this was it… even so, something sat odd with you. “You… You’re so brave… even so, you’ve also been reckless! How could you sneak in here like this? What if they hear us and catch you? You should have tipped off the town guards instead, not come down here yourself!”
“I truly did want to call their aid, dear, but I had no definitive proof that they had taken you or any other woman,” your step-mother declared with a sigh. “And you know how these men handle us older women, claiming us to be delusional and short-sighted. I simply couldn’t stand by, not when I didn’t know when they were leaving. Though, fret not! I know of their plans, and I know if we journey up now, we can avoid them!”
Skepticism lingered in you, but at this point, you couldn’t argue against her. She was saving your life. She was saving your future. Even if you spent the rest of your life tucked away in the safety of home, you would still have your freedom. You wouldn’t be enslaved to soul-crushing labor. You wouldn’t be forced to serve pleasure to some slave-owner. You could live with that. You could close your eyes to the outside world.
You could close your heart.
“Then, let’s be off,” you said, holding her hand firmly.
Your step-mother smiled lightly. “I was so deeply worried, dear.” She turned to face forward, to walk with you out of the cell at a steady pace. “Please, promise me you won’t ever stray off again like this again. My heart couldn’t take it… I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you…”
You opened your mouth to speak, but your voice held itself in its throat.
In your mind, the door to a beautiful world stood before your eyes, beckoning with promise and reassurance. A hand reached itself out to you, bathed in that bright light. It was a sturdy hand — one that you could sense would never let you go.
“‘Couldn’t stand it,’ huh? That’s a bold remark.”
The speaker surprised both of you. As you walked out of the cell with your step-mother, both of your faces fell upon a young man wearing a brown cape. His ebony hair was still neatly kept from last night. His emerald eyes danced with the green of the earth, all-knowing with the expanse of an eternal field.
“Excuse me?” your step-mother asked, irritably.
“Your Majesty!?” you exclaimed.
It was Prince Ranpo.
“Then again, while bold, I guess it’s not an inaccurate remark,” the prince stated with his arms crossed. “That's why you set this all up in the first place, right?”
The silence that followed almost convinced you of being deaf. Your eyes wandered to your step-mother. While your hold of her hand loosened slightly, her hold of yours became tighter.
“How dare you make such a wicked accusation!” Your step-mother yelled. “You have no proof of—”
“Okay, okay, settle down. Let’s try it your way: you just so happened to overhear some ‘ruffians scheming’ — in broad daylight — that you later found that night, and managed to follow back to their base without being caught. That’s the story, right?” Ranpo asked, co*cking his head slightly. “Well, let’s start with the first point: if they have this perfect, secluded little hideout over here, just on the edge of town, why were they making these plans out in ‘a questionable area in town’? Why not keep their plan quiet?”
“Well, how would I know—”
“Sure, let’s say they weren’t being smart about where they discuss plans,” Ranpo interrupted. “Second point, one that only you would know, but your step-daughter here wouldn’t: this is their only cellar for holding hostages.” He gestured out with his arms. “There’s plenty of space here to hold at least a couple dozen young women, but note the lack of hostages here. If they were lurking around looking to hoard up women for selling, how did they only turn up with one?” He snapped his fingers. “Simple answer: they were told to only take one. That was all they were hired to kidnap last night.”
“H…Hired…” you muttered.
“So at that point, you’d probably say it was bad luck, right? That this young woman here was just too unlucky to have been their only kidnapping, right? And sure, there would be the possibility they picked up a random girl, but you know what’s almost a little more likely? That they were told to kidnap a girl with a certain description.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “You, of course, know what your step-daughter looks like. You even knew what dress she’d be wearing… because you planted it in her wardrobe that afternoon.”
The dress. The dress you’d never seen before in your life. The dress that fit like a glove. It all made sense. It all made too much sense.
“Well, this all sounds like a fun little narrative, and is entirely impossible,” your step-mother remarked with a sour look. “And tell me, just why would I go through the trouble of kidnapping my own step-daughter?”
“The answer’s simple.” Ranpo scowled, green eyes piercing her soul. “You wanted to teach her a lesson.”
Your heart dropped.
“You knew your grip was slipping on her. You knew that no matter how many times you told her that the world was evil, and dark, and that there was nothing good in it, she kept holding on to something she cherished. A hope. A dream. A memory, even. You couldn’t stand it. You couldn’t stand the idea of her going off, making something of herself when you had failed to do so in your youth.
“Then, you found out she went into town without your knowing, and that was the final straw. You knew she was too hopeful now. She was making her own opinions. She was experiencing the world in a way you never wanted her to. At that point, the only way to combat this — the only way to reinforce your version of the word — was to give her a life-threatening experience. Make her fear for her future. Make her reminisce about living in the acceptable prison of your making by leaving her to rot for a while in the hands of a few hired hands with the expectation of being sold.
“Finally, after shaking her up a bit, you would act as the heroine — throwing yourself into danger for ‘her sake.’ You had the kidnappers play stupid, let you ‘sneak in’ to ‘save’ your step-daughter, so that she would stay under your control once and for all and never look back. I’ll bet you paid them handsomely, too, so that you wouldn’t risk them taking your money and selling her, anyway.”
You let go of your step-mother’s hand. Meanwhile, she had the audacity to look at you, perhaps trying to gauge how much of this you believed based on your facial expression. Your heart, wounded with all sorts of sores now, didn’t want to believe the prince’s words — yet, some people said he was the smartest person in the world. Even before he presented you with the most logical explanation of your situation, you really couldn’t believe the half-hearted lie your step-mother told you. It all worked out too well. It was too “fortunate.”
Still, despite yourself, you searched for the heart of a monster in front of you, staring deeply into Ranpo. You stared, searching, wondering… but you didn’t find it.
Your mother scoffed, laughing weakly. “Oh, please. Don’t tell me you believe any of this man’s words, dear—”
“Mother,” you said, “let go of my hand.”
“Love, don’t be ridiculous—”
”Unhand me, Mother!” You tore away from her grasp, stumbling away from her. You didn’t know how to look her in the eyes anymore.
“You would really believe this man before your own mother?”
”You don’t have to believe me,” Ranpo said with a shrug, as footsteps approached him from behind. “My advisor just finished questioning the men — on the terms of a slightly lesser sentence, the kidnappers have already confirmed they were hired by your step-mother.”
“Oh, Ranpo, don’t go stealing my thunder like that!” Poe cried from behind him. “I didn’t even tell you the results yet!”
“Sorry, couldn’t help myself,” Ranpo said, smiling back at him.
”My dear…”
In the corner of your eye, your step-mother turned to you again. How do you meet such a cruel face? You forgot how, gravity pushing your eyes from her. “Do you… Do you have anything to say for yourself?” You finally asked, your voice weak.
”You have to understand— the world is rotted to its core! I had to— I had to teach you a lesson about the evils of this world—”
“You did what you ventured to.” He turned back to your step-mother with returned sharpness. “You are one of those evils, ma’am.”
Your step-mother stared in shock.
The prince humored her no longer: “Guards, arrest this woman for conspiring with slave traders.”
A handful of town guards entered in from behind the prince and his advisor, quickly surrounding your step-mother. Even as this all made the most sense — even as your step-mother screamed your name while being cuffed and carried away by the authorities — the world around you felt like white noise.
Once again, your canvas was dark; painted black with long, thick strokes of a brush. Yet, somewhere deep in that darkness, stood a door, shimmering with vibrant light, a wild spectrum of colors and beauty. The hand bathed in light still reached itself towards you. As you moved closer, approaching the bright door, the owner of that hand became more clear — emerald eyes, shimmering in the radiant light, a smile curved across his lips.
Prince Ranpo took your hand in his, an eternal warmth. “I’m sorry. You’ve been through so much…” His smile turned sad. “I’m sorry you couldn’t even trust your own step-mother. It shouldn’t have been that way.”
You shook your head, finding some bittersweet smile in yourself. “I… I don’t know how, but I’ll get through it, I think. I’m just relieved that someone was here to show me what was real.” You pressed your lips together, tears welling up in your eyes. Your voice was a whisper: “I almost gave up… I almost gave up the whole world.”
”Do you believe in it? The world your step-mother tried to show you?”
You wanted to say you didn’t. Truly, and deeply, you wanted to reject everything she told you. Even so, you knew you couldn’t lie to him, the man who stared into your heart of hearts. “I don’t want to believe it, but I’d be lying if I said the world wasn’t so scary and foreign in my eyes.”
Prince Ranpo nodded. “I can understand why. There are wounds that are fresh on your heart right now… and you haven’t seen enough of the world to have a good picture of it. Even so, time will heal those wounds if you let it, and time will also reward you with experience if you’ll open your heart to it.” He cupped your cheek with his free hand. “Trust me. You can only go up from here. Besides, even if you don’t know the way up… there are people who can point you in the right direction, if you want.”
As you gazed into his eyes, something like joy touched your heart, daring to dust your cheeks with a light pink. “Would it… Would it be safe to assume you’re one of those people?”
The prince grinned wide. “You know what? Yeah. You can count on me.”
Your heart fluttered in your chest, and you wrapped your arms around him without thinking, burying your face in his chest. Though your embrace caught him off-guard — the first time you had ever done so; what a sight to behold — he shortly after followed suit and held you close to him. His fingers trailed along your back in a soothing motion.
The world seemed to fade away as he held you in his arms, two heartbeats beating in sync. The canvas remained black, albeit with several splashes of color — perhaps with time, as the prince had said, the colors would come together into a clear picture encompassing the good and bad of the world in a realistic portrait.
In the meantime, you could live with the color splotches.
Bonus—
As you gazed out from a starlit balcony, Ranpo lightly tapped your shoulder from behind before settling into your side. From where the two of you stood, the expanse of the universe shimmered over your heads through the thin veil of the night, speckled with stars and wonder.
“Are you settling in okay?” Ranpo asked, stroking your arm.
You nodded, not taking your eyes off of the sky. “I think so. It’s all so foreign to me, but I’ll adjust with time.”
Ranpo smiled. Time. He remembered saying that. “You will, for sure. You have your whole life ahead of you, after all. There’s so much to see out there — so much to explore. We’ll probably run out of life before I run out of good things to show you.”
“Well, let’s not run out of life too soon,” you said with a faint chuckle.
“Come on, that’s my point!” He laughed.
The two of you stared up into the sky for a little while. Though your eyes stayed peering into the darkness, Ranpo’s eventually fell on you, inspecting your features carefully. Something bubbled up in his chest, but he did his best to keep it in. His cheeks blushed, despite his inner-protests, and to hide his fluster, he started laughing and looking away. “Ha… haha! Hahaha.”
“Ranpo?” You looked at him. “What’s so funny?”
“Oh, just feeling good,” he said with a smile. “I’m going to show you so many things.”
“Any idea on what?” you asked with a smile, co*cking your head.
“Well, to start, it’s only natural you should expand your horizon of tasty treats first!” Ranpo answered, face beaming. “There’s a nice selection in the town bakery, don’t get me wrong, but man! You’re missing out on so many other snacks! I have a whole separate budget just for imported snacks and flavorful endeavors. And treats aside, there’s so many different types of foods out there you have to try, too!”
He caught himself rambling, and paused before laughing nervously. “W-Well, let me make myself clear that there’s also other things that are good in this world that aren’t tasty treats. But treats are very important! They’re crucial for daily operation! They make the world better. That’s why we’ve got to go over those first.”
You gripped the balcony railing while smiling back at him. His insatiable sweet-tooth made you want to squeeze him… maybe even kiss him. Still, you hid your intrusive thoughts behind your rose-tinted cheeks, settling for mutual excitement. You could get along with a man who loves food any day — perhaps he’d even sample your own cooking in the future: “Well, I can’t argue with that. I’m looking forward to what you have to show me.”
Then, you both ate a lot of sweets, and lived happily ever after.
