The door to Scarlet's cell loomed in front of Holo, and he felt a knot tighten in his stomach. His success with Trixie didn't make this any easier; in fact, it felt like even more pressure. Scarlet was completely different—a sharp-tongued, calculating girl who had already gotten into his head once before. The idea of facing her again wasn't exactly thrilling.
Grave walked beside him, his usual smirk plastered across his face. "Scarlet's a tough nut to crack," he said casually. "But hey, you handled Trixie, so maybe you've got a shot."
Holo swallowed hard, forcing himself to nod. "Right. I'll do my best."
Grave clapped him on the shoulder. "That's the spirit. Good luck, kid. You'll need it."
The guard opened the door, and Holo stepped inside. The room was as sterile and minimalistic as the others, but Scarlet's presence made it feel anything but ordinary. She was seated in a chair, her legs crossed and her hands folded neatly in her lap. Her black hair, blonde on the inside, was tied in a sleek ponytail, and the reflective blue dress she wore shimmered slightly under the fluorescent lights. Her blue eyes flicked up to meet his, and a slow, sly smile spread across her face.
"Well, well," she said, her voice smooth and melodic. "If it isn't Holo. Took you long enough to get to me."
"Hi, Scarlet," he said, trying to sound confident despite the nerves gnawing at him.
She gestured to the chair across from her. "Sit. Let's get this over with."
Holo sat down, feeling her eyes scrutinize him as if she were dissecting every detail of his appearance. The silence stretched on for an uncomfortable moment before she finally spoke.
"So," she began, leaning forward slightly, "is this what you decided to wear today? Bold choice."
Holo blinked, caught off guard. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"
Scarlet's smile widened, and she tilted her head. "Oh, nothing at all. It's just… well, I suppose 'plain' is your thing, isn't it? And those shoes? Adorable."
He frowned, glancing down at his shoes. "What's wrong with my shoes?"
"Nothing," she said with a shrug, though her tone dripped with sarcasm. "They're very… functional."
Holo gritted his teeth, trying not to let her words get to him. "I didn't come here to talk about my clothes."
Scarlet raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by his frustration. "Oh? Then what did you come here to talk about?"
"I came to get to know you," he said firmly.
"Get to know me?" she repeated, her tone mocking. "How sweet. What exactly do you want to know?"
Holo hesitated, unsure of where to start. "What's your favorite hobby?"
Scarlet smirked, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "That's an interesting question. What's your favorite hobby?"
He frowned. "I asked you first."
"And I asked you second," she countered, her smile never wavering.
Holo sighed, already feeling the conversation spiraling out of his control. "Fine. I like reading."
"Reading?" she said, feigning surprise. "How intellectual. What do you like to read?"
"Fantasy novels," he said, his tone cautious. "Now, will you answer my question?"
Scarlet leaned back in her chair, her smile turning playful. "Oh, but I did. I answered it with another question."
"That's not an answer," Holo said, his frustration growing.
She shrugged. "Depends on how you look at it."
He took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. "Okay. Let's try something else. Why are you here?"
Scarlet's expression shifted slightly, though she quickly masked it with a smirk. "Why do you think I'm here?"
"I don't know," Holo admitted. "That's why I'm asking."
She tilted her head, her gaze sharp and calculating. "Maybe I'm here because I wanted to meet someone like you."
Holo blinked, taken aback. "What do you mean?"
She didn't answer. Instead, she leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand as she studied him. "You're short, aren't you?"
"What?" he said, caught off guard by the sudden change in topic.
"I mean, it's not a bad thing," she said, her tone laced with mock reassurance. "It's just… noticeable."
Holo felt his face heat up, and he crossed his arms defensively. "I'm not that short."
"Of course not," she said with a smile that was anything but sincere. "You're the perfect height for… well, whatever it is you're trying to do."
He clenched his fists, forcing himself to stay calm. "Can we get back to the questions?"
"Sure," she said sweetly. "Ask away."
He hesitated, unsure of how to proceed. Every time he tried to steer the conversation in a meaningful direction, she either sidetracked him or turned the focus back on him. It was like trying to hold water in his hands—it kept slipping through his fingers.
"What do you like to do for fun?" he asked, trying again.
She tapped her lips, pretending to think. "Fun… That's such a broad term, isn't it? What's your definition of fun, Holo?"
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You're impossible."
"I prefer 'enigmatic,'" she said with a wink.
The conversation continued in the same frustrating pattern. Every question he asked was met with either a question of her own or a deflection that left him no closer to understanding her. By the time his allotted time was up, Holo felt like he had spent the entire session running in circles.
As he left the room, he couldn't help but feel defeated. Scarlet was unlike anyone he had ever met—impossible to pin down, effortlessly manipulative, and always one step ahead. He didn't know how he was supposed to get through to her, but one thing was clear: this was going to be far more challenging than he had anticipated.
The next day, Holo returned to Scarlet's room, his determination unshaken despite the frustration gnawing at him. She sat in the same position as always, her legs crossed and a smug smile on her face as if she were waiting for him to try and fail once again.
"You're persistent," she said the moment he walked in. "I'll give you that. Most people would've given up by now."
"Maybe I'm stubborn," Holo replied, sitting down in the chair across from her. "Or maybe I just think you're worth the effort."
Scarlet tilted her head, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Worth the effort? That's cute. But don't fool yourself, Holo. You're not getting anywhere with me."
The days continued much the same way. Every visit, Holo tried to get her to open up, to share even the smallest piece of herself. And every visit, Scarlet expertly dodged his questions, turning the conversation back on him or steering it into meaningless tangents. She seemed to enjoy toying with him, watching him struggle as he tried to peel back the layers of her facade.
"Why are you so interested in me?" she asked one day, her tone laced with mock curiosity. "Is it the thrill of the challenge? Or are you just that desperate for validation?"
"It's neither," Holo said, his frustration seeping into his voice. "I just want to understand you."
She smirked, leaning forward slightly. "Understand me? Holo, you can barely understand yourself. Do you even know what you want out of this?"
He opened his mouth to respond, but she cut him off.
"Let me guess," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "You're here because you think fixing me will somehow fix you. Like if you save me, you'll feel better about how pathetic your life has been."
Her words hit like a punch to the gut, and Holo flinched, his chest tightening. "That's not true," he said weakly.
"Isn't it?" Scarlet pressed, her eyes gleaming with a cruel kind of amusement. "You think I don't know about you? About how you tried to off yourself because you couldn't handle the big, bad world? Honestly, it's pathetic."
Holo's jaw tightened, but he forced himself to stay calm. "You don't know anything about what I've been through."
"I know enough," she said with a shrug. "And you know what's funny? You're still here. You went through all that, and now you're stuck playing therapist to a bunch of broken girls like me. How does that feel?"
"Scarlet," he said, his voice trembling slightly, "why are you doing this?"
"Doing what?" she asked innocently.
"Pushing me away," he said. "Every time I try to talk to you, you shut me out. Every time I try to understand you, you turn it back on me. Why?"
Scarlet's smirk faltered for just a fraction of a second, but she quickly recovered. "Maybe I just like watching you squirm," she said, her tone light and teasing. "Or maybe there's nothing to understand. Did you ever think of that?"
"I don't believe that," Holo said firmly. "Everyone has a story, Scarlet. Even you."
"Then you're wasting your time," she said, leaning back in her chair. "Because you're never going to hear mine."
The pattern continued day after day. Holo would enter her room, armed with new questions and a renewed determination, and Scarlet would shut him down with the same deflections and mocking remarks. She seemed to take pleasure in watching him struggle, her words cutting deeper with each visit.
"You're like a puppy chasing its tail," she said one day, laughing softly. "It's almost endearing. Almost."
Holo clenched his fists, fighting the urge to snap back at her. "Why do you keep doing this?"
"Because it's fun," she said simply. "And because I can."
As the days turned into a week, Holo found himself growing more and more frustrated. He had gotten nowhere with her, and the constant ridicule was starting to take its toll. He didn't understand why she was so intent on keeping him at arm's length—or why she seemed to enjoy tearing him down at every opportunity.
But despite everything, he refused to give up. Deep down, he knew there was more to Scarlet than the sharp-tongued, manipulative girl she presented herself as. And no matter how long it took, he was determined to find out who she really was.