(A/N: I'm feeling generous today so I drop a 4k words chapter. I figure that I may have smth with tormenting my characters ngl, it motivated me in a way I thought that was impossible.)
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Later that day…
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The moonlight casted its gentle streaks through the window of a chamber residing at Zenin Clan. Its pale and delicate light managed to shine a corner of the room, barely able to see with it.
Makima sat upright at the corner of the bed, knees drawn toward her ample chest and arms coiled around them. Her untied crimson hair cascaded down her shoulders and chest, like a stream of blood that spoke the volume of her sins.
The bed sheets were left untouched and tangled, lying in disarray around her, appearing to be a testament to the restless night she had endured for the first time of her life.
Her glowing golden ringed eyes, usually to be calm and sharp, now appeared to be dazed and lost in thoughts. For once, it had lost its focus and sharpness she always had, replaced by the dull and lifeless eyes staring into the darkness looming over the chamber.
Even in the dead of the night, she hadn't slept yet or rather, she couldn't. Every time she closed her eyelid, her mind dragged back a silhouette kept appearing in the corner of her mind, his shaky pupils while looking at her felt almost alienated.
Each time she tried, her mind dragged her back to the memory of him, and the unbearable look in his eyes. Her wandering eyes darted around the room to find the familiar figure that had become part of her life since she came to this world but of course, that figure was nowhere to be found.
She wanted to hug him and smelled his scent to calm this unease thoughts plaguing her mind.
The surroundings were spacious, enough so that her dogs were sleeping peacefully on the floor without a care in the world. But strangely enough, it felt too large, too… empty.
She wondered if the room was always this large before. What is this feeling?
They said the primordial fear of humans is the fear of the unknown and how true that statement was. Honestly, she didn't know and didn't want to know. She was too scared to know.
Then her mind came to play its trick once more as she imagined the caring silhouette that always pampered her even though he knew she was a Devil.
Veilhem.
He had walked away, his form disappearing into the shadowed corridor, leaving her alone with the echo of his rejection. The memory replayed in her mind endlessly, each repetition carving deeper into her seemingly impeccable composure.
Makima rested her chin on her knees, her arms wrapping tightly around herself, trying to appear as small as she could, an unconscious effort to ward off the unfamiliar sensation creeping through her heart.
But even with that, she couldn't stop seeing his face in her mind—his eyes darkened with pain and anger, his voice trembling with disbelief as he condemned her actions, trying to cling into the false hope.
She had done it for him, a perfect plan that could guarantee the safety of them both. She did it for him…
Her lips parted, but no sound came. Her throat felt tight, like something unspeakable was stuck there, something unseen by the naked eyes choking her neck, refusing to let her breathe freely. Makima lowered her gaze, her hair creating a curtain around her face as she tried to ease the gnawing ache in her chest.
He was supposed to understand when she explained it to him. She had calculated everything meticulously, hadn't she? Every sacrifice, every cold decision, was to protect him…
All she ever did, she did it to lift the burdens she saw crushing him from the inside. And yet, the way he had looked at her… Just why?
She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms hard enough to sting. But that pain wasn't enough to distract her wandering mind.
Monster.
That's how he saw her now. The word wasn't spoken, but it radiated from his every motion, every sound that escaped from his mouth.
It was unbearable.
Her eyes turned to the empty side of the bed, where she imagined him sitting, his broad frame hunched forward, his armor creaking softly as he rested his head in his hands, watching her with tired gaze. She could almost hear his voice, low and steady, the absolute calmness against the chaos of the world.
But what awaited her was no voice, only silence presented there to keep her company.
The painful ache inside her heart grew sharper, pressing against her ample chest like a blade, suffocating her with an unbearable anguish. She was sure that her body was in a perfect state, no physical ailments nor hurt anywhere.
…Yet here she was, the throbbing pain never ceased but instead grew larger with each passing second, like an inflated balloon that stretched to its maximum and threatened to pop at any moment.
While Makima was drowned in this suffocating silence, a low growl pulled her back from her spiraling thoughts. Her ever golden eyes shifting down to the husky laying beside her bed.
Cupcake's piercing blue eyes mirrored an unspoken concern, his black and white fur shimmering faintly in the pale moonlight. The sight of him brought a fleeting pang of warmth to her now hollow chest.
Cupcake climbed his way up to the bed and nestled at her thighs, perking up his head and staring at her with sadness filling his eyes. Makima reached down, her slender fingers brushing gently against his head, feeling the softness of his fur beneath her fingertips, a solace she didn't think she would need.
"You don't understand either, do you?" she murmured, her voice softer than a whisper coming out of her supple lips.
Cupcake let out a small whine, nudging his head into her palm as if trying to console her. The gesture was almost enough to shatter the fragile dam holding back the flood of emotions she had refused to acknowledge. She lowered her frame from the bed, sinking to her knees beside Cupcake, her arms wrapping loosely around his neck.
She buried her face into his fur, letting his warmth seep into her. "Why does it feel like this?" Her words were muffled, trembling. "I've lost so much before… but this..."
Makima's hands clenched into Cupcake's fur as her chest heaved with each breath she took. The whimper noises he made weren't helping at all.
She couldn't bring herself to admit the truth—not fully, not even to herself. She had endured it when the people of the government brought her in and taught her various things.
She had lost subordinates, allies, and enemies alike, and none of it had ever pierced through her heart.
For a long time, she had accepted deaths as inevitable and everything that led to it was natural.
Her decisions had always been calculated, her emotions detached, her power absolute.
But Veilhem was different.
She didn't want him to die and came back to life with his memory lost in the process. She had tasted the bitterness of it once and she didn't want to experience it again.
The once-familiar space shared between them now felt alien, its emptiness gnawing at her like an unseen predator. She had always prided herself on her control, on the precision with which she orchestrated her world. Every action, every move, had been calculated with a sharpness that few could comprehend.
Power, control, manipulation.
These were the foundations of her existence, the pillars upon which she had built her identity. Yet, sitting here, wrapped in the suffocating silence, she couldn't escape the gnawing realization that those very pillars now felt like a cage.
Now, the very thing she had built, the illusion of control, was slipping through her fingers. Her actions had always been deliberate, calculated to achieve her goals with precision and efficiency.
And yet, for the first time, she wondered if she had miscalculated—not in strategy, but in her understanding of something far more elusive:...
…Humanity.
For once, she realized that not everything could be in her control.
She didn't realize how deeply she had let him into her world until he was gone. He was supposed to be her anchor, the one person who could stand by her side in this chaotic, unpredictable existence.
He was supposed to be hers!
Her knight, her partner, her sole sanctuary. But now, that sanctuary had crumbled, and she was left adrift, drowning in a sea of problems she couldn't name and didn't know how to control.
How ironic for a Control Devil to lose control herself over this.
…She felt like shit.
"Why does this hurt so much?" She loosened her grip on Cupcake, leaning back slightly. The husky whined again, his eyes fixed on her as if he could sense the turmoil boiling within her. Makima tilted her head up, her gaze falling on the streaks of moonlight that painted the room in cold silver hues.
She closed her eyes, but instead of finding peace, she was met with a cascade of memories.
Makima had always believed she understood humans. Their desires, their fears, their weaknesses,... all were tools she could manipulate with ease.
She had studied them, imitated them, and worn their emotions like masks to bend them to her will. But now, she realized how little she truly understood the depth of their feelings, the weight of their trust, or the pain of their betrayal.
She had wielded her power with cold detachment, convinced that the ends justifies the means. Sacrifices were inevitable, collateral damage an acceptable cost. But the look in Veilhem's eyes, the raw betrayal etched into his features, had stripped away the illusion she had built for herself.
"Please don't look at me like that." Makima muttered with all the strength she had left.
But Makima being Makima, with the intellect most would dream to have, soon deduced the reason for his gaze.'He wasn't just angry at what I did.' she thought, her chest tightening.
'He was hurt because he trusted me. Because he believed in me.' The realization was even more infuriating for her than ever.
His mental state was like a sand castle that could collapse at any moment. A little good push and he could easily lose himself and here she was, being the one who pushed that sand castle.
Her hands trembled as she pressed them to Cupcake's neck, her nails digging into her skin. "I didn't mean to hurt him." she whispered, the words barely audible. "I… I thought I was helping him."
[But was that true?]
[Or had you been helping yourself, molding and protecting him, not for his sake, but to keep him close, to keep him yours?]
The voice that resided inside Veilhem's mind hit her like a blade, slicing through her carefully constructed sense of righteousness. Ever since the deal with it, she could hear its whisperings beside her ears.
She had justified her actions as necessary for his happiness, his safety. But had she ever truly considered what he wanted? Had she ever asked him if he needed saving, or if he even wanted the world she was building for him?
The answer was clear now, painfully so.
[Of course, you hadn't.] Their voices sounded like a sneer at her misery.
Makima let out a shaky breath, her fingers curling into her crimson hair as her thoughts spiraled further. For all her power, for all her control, she had failed to see the most important truth: that love, trust, and understanding couldn't be forced or manufactured.
They couldn't be manipulated into existence but something built over hardships. Her thoughts spiraled inward, each realization unraveling a deeper layer of the truth she had long suppressed.
She felt a tear slip down her cheek, tracing a path along the curve of her face. Her breath hitched in her chest as she wiped it away, her fingers trembling as if the simple act could somehow erase the unbearable feeling that had taken root deep inside her.
"I've always been alone." she whispered, the words feeling heavier than any burden she had ever carried. "Even when I surrounded myself with others, even when I made them obey me… I've always been alone."
And yet, for a short while, Veilhem had made her believe she wasn't. His unwavering presence, his quiet strength, had filled a void she hadn't even realized existed. She had come to rely on him, to crave his companionship in a way she had never craved anything else.
In the absence of the one person who had meant something to her, she felt... lost.
He was gone.
Makima glanced at the empty side of the bed, her heart constricting painfully. It wasn't just his absence that hurt, it was the knowledge that she had driven him away, that her own actions had created this chasm between them that ate her from inside.
She reached out, her fingers brushing against the untouched sheets as if she could conjure his presence through sheer will. But the cold fabric beneath her fingertips only deepened the ache within her, tormenting her soul to a degree that she didn't think that was possible.
"What am I supposed to do now?" she asked the darkness, her voice trembling with a vulnerability she would never show to anyone else. "How do I fix this? Can I even fix this?"
For the first time in her existence as a Devil, Makima was forced to confront a truth she had always ignored: that power alone couldn't solve everything. It couldn't mend the broken trust, couldn't erase the pain she had caused. Moreover, it certainly couldn't bring Veilhem back to her side.
But could she change what had already happened?
The question lingered in her mind, unanswered, as the night stretched on. Cupcake rested his head on her lap, his quiet presence a small comfort against the storm raging within her.
Makima let out a shaky sigh, her fingers absently stroking the husky's fur. "Veilhem…" she whispered, his name carrying a weight of longing, regret, and something else she couldn't quite name.
The moonlight continued to pour into the room, cold and unfeeling, as Makima sat in silence, grappling with emotions she didn't know how to face and a future she didn't know how to navigate.
"I miss you…" Her words echoed in the silence of the night, lingering in the air and left unanswered.
The dawn had broken over the Zenin Clan, its soft, golden light spilling through the high windows of Makima's chamber. The room, which had felt spacious and empty in the night, now seemed to hum faintly with life as the first birds began their morning chirps signaling the new day had begun. Still, the light was pale and hesitant, as if unsure it was welcome in a space so heavy with turmoil.
Makima sat where she had been for hours, on the edge of her untouched bed, her crimson hair cascading in waves over her shoulders, her golden-ringed eyes staring unblinkingly at the door.
She hadn't slept.
She hadn't moved from the spot.
The night had been an endless loop of memories, each replay of Veilhem's hurt gaze cutting deeper than the last. The confidence she had once adorned herself felt distant, leaving her vulnerable and exposed.
Then, the knock came.
It was soft, almost hesitant, like a distant whisper through the thin door. Her head snapped in that direction, her breath laboured. For a moment, she wondered if her mind was playing tricks again.
Shouldn't they know that this room wasn't allowed for servants in the clan to go nearby? Only her and… Veilhem resided here. But what if he came back? Nonsense.
Discarding this illogical thought, she swallowed, her throat dry, and forced herself to answer, though her voice barely carried the authoritative it usually held.
"Come in."
The door creaked open, and there he stood, Veilhem. His broad shoulders blocked the early sunlight and cascaded a long shadow, the black of his armor catching the faint light and gleaming like polished obsidian.
His face was unreadable beneath the helmet, his dull gray eyes steady as they met hers. He looked the same as ever: imposing, calm, unshakable.
Makima's chest tightened. For a moment, she was frozen, unsure whether to speak or move. She felt unworthy of his presence, yet desperately grateful for it. Her lips parted, but again, no words came out of her throat.
"I figured you wouldn't have slept." Veilhem chuckled lightly, his voice low, steady, and achingly familiar. "I wanted to check on you."
She blinked, her heart stumbling over itself. He came back!
He came back… The realization struck her with such force that it almost made her sway.
"You…" Her voice cracked, barely above a whisper. "You're here."
He nodded, stepping inside and closing the door behind him with a deliberate softness. The sound seemed to ground her, reminding her that this wasn't another cruel trick of her imagination.
"I am indeed." His tone carried neither reproach nor warmth, just quiet conviction.
Makima rose slowly from the bed, her movements cautious, almost fragile, as if afraid any sudden motion might shatter the fragile truce between them. Her hands clenched at her sides to keep them from trembling.
"I thought…" She faltered, her voice uncharacteristically small, devoid of the calm and coldness. "I thought you hated me."
Veilhem's expression softened slightly, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his features. "No." He said simply. "I don't hate you, Makima."
The words hit her like a tidal wave. Her golden eyes widened, glimmering with an emotion she couldn't quite name. She took a step closer, then stopped, unsure. "But after everything I've done… after what I—"
"Stop right there girl." He interrupted as he placed his index finger on her lips, his tone firm but not unkind. His gaze met hers, steady and unflinching. "I'm not here to judge you, or to condemn you. I've had time to think. I know why you did what you did."
Her breath caught, her heart hammering in her chest. She wanted to argue, to explain, to apologize, but the lump in her throat rendered her silent.
"I don't agree with it." Veilhem continued, his voice measured. "And I don't think I ever will. But I understand it, at least a little. You weren't trying to hurt anyone. You were trying to protect me, in the only way you thought you could."
His words were a balm and a blade, soothing her guilt even as they cut into the fragile defenses she had built around her actions. She lowered her gaze, her crimson hair falling forward to obscure her face. "I… I failed you," she murmured, her voice breaking. "I hurt you. I—"
"You didn't fail me." Veilhem said firmly, taking a step closer. "You made a mistake, and a grave one at that, yes. But that doesn't mean you failed."
"And it doesn't mean I'm giving up on you. Plus, it wasn't the first time I received this kind of treatment." He let out a low chuckle at himself as he spoke those words.
Her head snapped up, her golden eyes wide with disbelief. "You're… you're not?"
"No." He shook his head, his dark eyes softening in a way that was rare and precious. "Makima, you're not a monster. You're a Devil trying to learn the way of a human. Flawed and imperfect. Much like myself, an undead trying to cling into his humanity."
The word—human—hung in the air between them, heavy with meaning. Her lips parted, trembling, as she searched his face for any hint of mockery or pity. There was none, only sincerity.
"Human…" she whispered, the word foreign on her tongue.
Veilhem nodded. "It's not a weakness to make mistakes, Makima. It's not weakness to feel guilt, or to want to make things right. You don't have to carry everything on your own. You don't have to be perfect."
Her knees wobbled, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, she allowed herself to lean on someone else. Veilhem caught her effortlessly, his arms steady and sure as they wrapped around her. It wasn't a commanding hold, nor a possessive one.
Before she was merely imitated from the movies she saw, now she truly felt it. It was simply… comforting.
"I don't deserve this." She whispered against his chest, her voice muffled and trembling.
"That's not for you to decide. That's mine." He replied, his tone gentle but unwavering. "What matters is that you want to be better. That's all I shall ask from you, Makima."
She closed her eyes, the tear slipping free as she clung to him. "I'll try." she vowed, her voice soft but resolute. "I'll try to be better."
"I know you will," Veilhem said softly, his voice steady yet soothing as he rested his chin slightly atop Makima's head. His hand moved to her crimson hair, the hair strands falling like silks between his fingers as he patted her gently, like a parent comforting a distressed child.
Makima sniffled, her breath hitching as the weight of her emotions poured out in his quiet presence. She closed her golden-ringed eyes, letting herself melt into the warmth of his embrace. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, she allowed herself to be free of the control. The unfamiliar yet comforting sensation lulled her into a state of relaxation she hadn't known she craved.
Her tense shoulders slackened, and her grip on his armor loosened as sleep began to claim her. She leaned fully into him, her breathing evening out, her tears leaving faint trails on her pale cheeks. Veilhem held her close, his movements careful and deliberate as though afraid to disturb the fragile peace that had finally settled over her.
They remained like that for a long while, wrapped in a silence that was no longer heavy with tension but instead brimming with quiet understanding. Veilhem's hand continued to stroke her hair in slow, calming motions, unconsciously pulling her closer.
When he was certain she had fallen asleep, he exhaled a soft sigh of relief. Carefully, he shifted his arms beneath her, cradling her small frame with a tenderness that belied his formidable appearance. Standing, he carried her to the bed with his utmost gentleness, making sure not to wake her from her hard-earned rest.
As he laid her down, Makima stirred faintly, a soft murmur escaping her lips. Her fingers instinctively reached for him, grasping at the air as if afraid to lose him again. Veilhem paused, his heart tightening at the vulnerability she rarely allowed anyone to see. He placed her hand back against the blanket, tucking her in securely before stepping back.
He stood there for a moment, watching her. The early morning light cast a soft glow over her serene face, illuminating the tear streaks that remained but also the faintest hint of peace. For once, she looked human—fragile, flawed, and desperately in need of rest.
Satisfied, Veilhem sat on the floor beside the bed, his back resting against the bed frame. He leaned his head back, allowing his eyes to wander to the window. The soft hues of dawn—pink, gold, and lavender—spilled across the horizon, painting the world in quiet beauty, not like those of ashes he had familiarized for eons.
"Nostalgic, ain't it." He murmured to himself, his voice barely audible in the stillness of the room. His gaze lingered on the sky, memories of simpler times flickering in his mind. Days of peace, where no blood had been spilled, and no heavy burdens weighed on his shoulders. It was a fleeting thought, yet it anchored him in the present.
Glancing back at Makima, he found himself silently promising to stay—not out of duty, not out of guilt, but because he saw her, truly saw her, and knew that behind all her actions was a being desperate to understand and be understood.
For now, that was enough.
The sun climbed higher, its warm light filling the room and chasing away the lingering shadows. For the first time in what felt like forever, Makima allowed herself to hope, not for a perfect world, but for something far more precious: redemption toward the man she held dear in her life of a Devil.
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(A/N: I see that a lot of you guys want fluff huh? What about angst? Why not that genre? Anyway, I plan to do a oneshot for the ideas you guys propose. Like about 10k words or smth every month or two. This will still be my main story.)