Another week passed, then another. Three weeks in total. Holo continued his daily visits with Scarlet, and each day felt more draining than the last. Despite his best efforts, he got nowhere with her. She continued to sidestep his questions, mock him, and degrade him at every turn. Every conversation felt like a twisted game that she always won, leaving Holo feeling smaller and more defeated each time he left her cell.
On the twenty-first day, he stepped into Scarlet's room, his exhaustion written all over his face. He had barely slept the night before, haunted by the memories of her cutting remarks. Still, he forced himself to push through, hoping—praying—that today might finally be different.
Scarlet was seated in her usual spot, her posture relaxed and her gaze sharp as she watched him enter. A slow smile spread across her face, one that sent a shiver down his spine. "Back again, are we?" she said, her tone dripping with amusement. "You really don't know when to quit, do you?"
Holo sat down across from her, trying to ignore the knot of anxiety twisting in his stomach. "I'm not giving up," he said firmly. "No matter how many times you try to push me away."
Scarlet chuckled, shaking her head. "You're stubborn, I'll give you that. But tell me, Holo—why do you even bother? Do you really think you're helping me?"
"I have to try," he said. "Because I care."
"Care?" she repeated, laughing bitterly. "Oh, that's rich. You don't care about me, Holo. You care about feeling like a hero. You care about convincing yourself that you're not a failure."
Holo flinched, her words hitting their mark. "That's not true."
"Isn't it?" she pressed, leaning forward with a predatory glint in her eyes. "You're here because you couldn't handle your own life. You thought ending it was the solution, but you couldn't even do that right, could you?"
"Stop it," Holo said, his voice trembling.
"Why?" Scarlet asked, tilting her head. "Am I wrong? You're just a sad little boy who couldn't deal with his problems, so now you're trying to fix mine. But here's the truth, Holo—you can't fix me. You can't even fix yourself."
Holo's chest tightened, and he clenched his fists, trying to keep his emotions in check. "I'm not giving up on you."
"Maybe you should," she said coldly. "Because you're wasting your time. Do you honestly think you're making a difference? That anything you say matters to me? You're nothing, Holo. Nothing."
The words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. Holo felt his resolve wavering, his thoughts spiraling into the dark corners of his mind. Scarlet must have noticed, because her smile widened, and her tone turned almost sweet.
"You know," she said softly, "you were right the first time. When you tried to end it all. That's the only real solution, isn't it? You're never going to escape the pain, Holo. You'll never be good enough. So why not just… let go?"
"Stop," he said again, his voice barely above a whisper.
"I mean, think about it," she continued, her words like poison. "No one would even notice. No one would care. The world would keep spinning, and you'd finally be free."
Holo stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor as he pushed it back. "I said stop!"
Scarlet's smile didn't waver. If anything, it grew colder, more calculating. "What's the matter, Holo? Am I hitting too close to home?"
He turned on his heel and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him. His heart was racing, his thoughts a chaotic storm of anger, frustration, and pain. He didn't know how much more of this he could take. Scarlet's words had cut deeper than ever before, and for the first time, he found himself doubting whether he could continue.
But even as the darkness threatened to consume him, a small voice in the back of his mind reminded him of something—someone. Trixie. She cared about him. She believed in him. And no matter how much Scarlet tried to tear him down, he wasn't going to let her win.
Later that evening, Holo sat in his room, his head buried in his hands as the tears fell freely. Scarlet's words replayed over and over in his mind, each one a dagger that carved deeper into his fragile sense of self-worth. No matter how much he tried to fight it, the overwhelming weight of her insults and degradation crushed him. For the first time in weeks, he felt utterly alone, and the thought haunted him—Maybe she's right. Maybe no one would really miss me.
His tears soaked the bedsheets as his body shook with quiet sobs. He hadn't even noticed the sound of his door creaking open until it was too late. Before he could react, Trixie burst into the room like a whirlwind, her energy filling the space as she tackled him onto the bed.
"Holo!" she exclaimed, pinning him beneath her. "I missed you! Let's make out!"
Her sudden presence caught him completely off guard, and he struggled to sit up. "T-Trixie, wait—"
But she froze mid-motion, her eyes narrowing as she noticed the damp spots on the sheets beneath him. Her playful demeanor evaporated in an instant, replaced by a look of concern and fury. "You're crying," she said, her voice low and dangerous. "Why are you crying?"
"It's nothing," Holo muttered, wiping at his face. "I'm fine."
Trixie wasn't buying it. She grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at her. Her gaze burned with intensity, and her voice trembled with barely-contained anger. "Did she do this to you?" she asked. "Was it Scarlet?"
Holo hesitated, but the look in her eyes made it clear she already knew the answer. He nodded reluctantly, and Trixie's entire body stiffened. Her pupils dilated, and her hands clenched into fists.
"I'm going to kill her," she said, her tone cold and resolute. "No one makes you cry. No one. That's an unforgivable sin."
"Trixie, wait!" Holo said, sitting up and grabbing her wrists before she could storm out of the room. "Please, just… give me one more day. Let me try to talk to her again."
Her eyes widened in disbelief. "One more day? After what she did to you?"
"Please," he said, his voice trembling. "I need to try. Just one more day."
Trixie's lips pressed into a thin line, and she stared at him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Finally, she sighed, her shoulders relaxing slightly. "Fine," she said. "But only on one condition."
"What is it?" he asked, his heart racing.
She leaned in closer, a mischievous glint returning to her eyes. "You have to kiss me. Right now."
Holo's face turned bright red. "W-What?"
"You heard me," she said, her voice soft but insistent. She cupped his face in her hands, her thumbs brushing against his cheeks. "If I'm going to let this slide, you need to show me you're mine."
"Trixie, I—"
"Stick out your tongue and close your eyes," she said, cutting him off. "Don't make me ask twice."
Holo swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest. He hesitated for a moment before reluctantly following her instructions. He closed his eyes, his hands gripping the sheets beneath him as he stuck out his tongue.
Trixie's smirk widened, and she leaned in, pressing her lips against his with a dominating intensity. The kiss was deep and passionate, her tongue sliding against his as she took control of the moment. Holo's mind went blank, overwhelmed by the sensation of her warmth and the sheer force of her affection.
She held the kiss for what felt like an eternity, her hands tangling in his hair as she pressed her body closer to his. When she finally pulled back, she licked her lips and gave him a smug grin. "There," she said, her voice breathy. "Now you're officially mine."
Holo's face was burning, and he struggled to find his voice. "Trixie, I…"
She placed a finger against his lips, silencing him. "No need to thank me," she said. "Just remember—if Scarlet makes you cry again, I won't wait for permission. Got it?"
He nodded, still too flustered to speak.
"Good," she said, leaning in to kiss his forehead. "Now get some rest. You've got a long day ahead of you tomorrow."
As she left the room, Holo lay back on the bed, his thoughts spinning in every direction. Despite the chaos of the day, Trixie's unwavering devotion gave him a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, he wasn't as alone as Scarlet wanted him to believe.