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Nikolai laughs, strained and high-pitched, mouth stretched into an awful mimicry of a smile. Its teeth are stained red.
“Sigma-chan,” it says, playful, “put the gun down—there’s no need for such hostility!”
Sigma stands firm. Was it really so foolish as to assume they would not have a way to protect themself? Nikolai can snatch Sigma away from their new home—their new friends, their new family—but Sigma prepared themself for such a possibility as soon as Ranpo insinuated Nikolai had returned to Japan. They knew it would come for them.
Hence, the gun. Pointed directly at Nikolai.
Sigma’s aim is true, and their finger rests on the trigger. Nikolai likes to pretend it does not fear death, but human nature is to fight for survival. Even Dazai claws his way back to the surface before river water can fill his lungs completely. He throws himself onto the shore, hacking, with a lie about how he suddenly remembered he left the oven on in his dorm. And everyone pretends to believe him.
Nikolai says, “I come in peace,” with a bow and another giggle, like Sigma can’t see the falter in its movements. Like Sigma doesn’t know all of its tells, because they were the only one allowed close enough to see. While Nikolai chased after Fyodor, it hooked its arm with Sigma’s and dragged them along for the ride. So when it peeled itself raw in front of Fyodor, Sigma was a firsthand witness to the display.
Now, Fyodor is gone, and only Sigma and Nikolai remain.
“I don’t know what you want from me,” Sigma tells it, fighting to keep their voice steady, “but I’m not playing your games anymore.”
Nikolai blinks, as if it’s confused. It takes a step closer. “Sigma-chan—”
“Don’t move.”
Nikolai pauses. For one second that stretches into infinity, they stare at one another in silence—stranded on opposite sides of the battle, an impossible barrier erected between them. They share a past, but their futures are incompatible. Whatever they had during the Decay’s reign has been ripped out of their hands, and as far as Sigma can see, the only choice they have is to move on without Nikolai in their life.
And then,
Nikolai calls their bluff.
This battle was never theirs anyway—Nikolai kneels to only itself and Sigma is a weapon that can be used by any hand they find themself in. So when Nikolai moves, throwing itself across the distance between them, Sigma does not shoot.
They drop the gun and catch Nikolai in their arms.
“I’m going to tear you apart,” it vows, the promised pressed into Sigma’s throat. And Sigma knows this—has known this from the very beginning. They’ve known it since they first saw the way Nikolai danced around Fyodor with mirth dripping from every word, because it cannot love freely. It yearns for an open sky, with nothing holding it back, but it cannot help being caught in the cage of its own emotions.
Sigma has always known loving Nikolai is as good as a death sentence, because it will love you back but only with a blade to your neck and blood on its tongue. It will carve out its own heart by taking the final breath from your lungs as if that’s what freedom means. But Sigma could not stop the fall any more than Nikolai could.
And Sigma has found a home where they are happy—a family that accepts them as one of their own—but something deep within them still longs for the rush of Nikolai’s touch.
“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” they tell it.
Nikolai grins, wicked, taking one of Sigma’s hands and pressing its jagged fingernails into their palm. Sigma knows better than to follow, but they’re a bit dizzy with the relief that Nikolai is still alive at all. They’re high on the adrenaline flowing through their veins.
So when Nikolai lifts its cape, activating its Ability to carry the two of them elsewhere together—
Sigma follows of their own accord.
It may be a cage in Nikolai’s eyes, but the warmth of its Ability wrapped around Sigma feels more like freedom to them.