"You know...with how close we've gotten lately...I really thought we'd talk about these things first."

Azriel stated, hands on his hips, and his lips pressed into a thin line as he stared at the black jet that was in front of both him and Y/n. Last night, she had ended the phone call telling him he had to go to where Krei kept his aircrafts. Nothing else. No other context. Just a time and a meeting up spot.

"Oh, we are gonna talk about it."

She nodded her head like it was obvious, already halfway up the stairs into the jet. Then she stopped to look at him, as he stood on the ground, and she shot him an easygoing smile that made him feel anything but easy.

"We'll just talk about it on the way there."

Azriel didn't expect his Saturday morning to consist of a private jet over to the UK. No Sir. Usually he'd spend it laying in bed, watching Tik Toks on his phone before rolling over to play something mindless like Crossy Road or something. Sometimes straining himself to reach for his charger and remaining on that uncomfortable side as his phone charged. It was a sworn rule to himself that he'd never put on a shirt on a weekend, until it was after 12. Today? He was fully dressed at 8 am, hair uncombed, and a grouchy look on his face as he hauled his ass into the jet after her.

"Does your boyfriend know you're here?"

Azriel asked humourlessly, only to widen his eyes in mild surprise when she shook her head.

"No, I'll text him now."

"Text?!"

He spluttered, looking at her like she'd grown two heads on her shoulders. Shooting a bewildered stare at the young woman who was pulling her phone out of her bag.

"Text?! Are you fucking serious?! You haven't told him what you're doing?!"

Y/n looked up from her phone with a blank expression. Giving him a once over like he was some weirdo who just approached her.

"Do I need to tell him everything  before I do it?"
She asked him slowly.
"I'll just drop him a text and let him know I'll be back by dinner. No big deal."
Y/n shrugged as she tapped at her phone, walking over to a seat on the jet.

"I am so sorry for your boyfriend."
Azriel muttered after a short while, his head in his hands as he took a seat. Quietly murmuring to himself that he needed to give the girl some relationship lessons alongside their meditation sessions.

The jet took off, and Y/n was sitting there more casually than he could. Azriel was so confused, and also very tired.

"You owe me."
He groaned as he slouched in his seat.
"I never get out of bed before 12 on a weekend."

"Really?"

Y/n continued to tap at her phone.

"I guess I should do this more often then."

Azriel felt his jaw click slightly as he sent her a seething smile.
"You are such a fucking bitch..."

His annoyed glare was met with a perfectly balanced smirk of her own as she looked at him. Her voice dipped in sarcasm and sprinkled with a mocking note, her head tilting to one side as she looked into his amber eyes.
"Oh honey, I thought you knew that by now."

__________ 🩵 __________

"We're at the Psych ward? Glad to see you're getting progessional help."

Azriel commented, snorting as she elbowed him as they walked into the clinical building, both sporting black masks on the lower half of their faces as they passed by doctors and visitors and made their way to the reception desk. Azriel silently showed his ID and the receptionist nodded, not sparing a glance towards Y/n who had disguised herself with a red wig that Honey Lemon had given her.

Azriel looked down at the younger girl, and narrowed his eyes slightly. As though appraising the new look. His eyes lingered on the red wig that matched his own hair colour, and he poked his tongue to his cheek as he looked into the girl's eyes.

"...You look ugly."

Y/n didn't have to look at him as she responded dryly.

"My left toe looks better than your face."

The (now) red haired girl, rubbed a strand of red hair between her fingers, and huffed out an annoyed sigh.
"I love Honey Lemon, really, but we look like fucking siblings now."

"Ew?"
Azriel visibly shuddered
"Jesus christ. I'd rather backflip from a helicopter, and swan dive into an erupting volcano than have you as my sister."

Y/n, didn't disagree, shrugging her shoulders with an air of agreement.
"I'd film that."

They walked down some more hallways till they found themselves approaching their destination, and Azriel lowered his voice once they were in an empty, white hallway. The scent of sterile chemicals filling their noses and making them dizzy as they observed the slight hum of the lights and the mental health awareness posters on the walls.

"Sooooo...Why do you need to see your old coot of a teacher?"

He asked, looking down at the girl who leaned against the wall, arms folded.

"Because I need to know exactly what happened. I need more information and I have a feeling she'll tell me."
Y/n responded, opening her phone and looking at the time.
"The cameras are set to switch off in two minutes, for a half hour internal before they're back online before anyone notices. In the half hour they're backlogged to replay footage from last week to avoid suspicion."

There was an impressed whistle from the man next to her as he looked at her wallpaper.

"Awe, look at you both, how cute."

He teased as he pointed to the picture she had of Hiro and Rem as her wallpaper. A candid picture where the black haired teen was on the chair in her room one evening, grinning about something Rem had said. His arms folded, foot on his knee and the golden hue of the sunset making his tanned skin practically glow.

Y/n switched her phone off, the blush tormenting her face and crawling up higher, causing her ears to turn bright red. Azriel noted the colour change, grinning as he pulled her ears.

"Shut up. Let's go."

Meeting my teacher was going to be a strange experienced. I'd figured out that much once I'd actually sat down to think about where my plan was going to go. Azriel and I walked down the sterile hallways, nodding to security guards and doctors, none of them questioning who we were thanks to badges I'd forged for us in order to get closer.

We made it to the room, and I stood back slightly, alert and ready to fight as Azriel convinced the current guard that there'd been a shift swap. Luckily for us, the guard seemed to be happy enough to take an early break, and I twisted my head around to make sure he'd left before the two of us entered the room.

Much like everything else, her room was white. Rosaline was quietly humming to herself, sat in a rocking chair. Carnival of the Animals... R.125...The Swan. Madame Rosaline was always a fantastic singer, she'd never openly sing to her students and insisted that she preferred watching and listening compared to playing, but there was always a nagging feeling that tugged at my brain. Telling me she would have made a brilliant opera singer.

I could see get well soon cards piled up on the bedside drawer and several more in the bin. A vase of fresh flowers, water clear as though it had been replaced just today. It would make sense, I suppose she's still a stickler for routine. The bedsheets were white and walls plain and there was a single, large window that showed the ocean front where the psychiatric unit resided.

Well...I do suppose historically, they sent women to the seaside as a cure for hysteria.

The atmosphere would have been serene, if not for the clinical environment. Serenity that broke the moment Azriel opened his mouth.

Rosaline?

She jumped, startled, and turned around. It had been months since I'd last seen her and she was worse for wear.

The first thing I noticed was her eyes. The sunken appearance, the greyness and unhealthy bags under her eyes which seemed frozen in this wide expression. Rosaline's once healthy and unblemished skin, stuck to her bones, giving her a gaunt appearance that startled me when I got to see her face.
Her hair had turn silvery-grey, she'd always had brown hair, carefully taken care of. No visible signs of greying. Now she had a full head of short silvery hair, several bald patches on her scalp and the moment she opened her mouth to scream I cut her off.

"I believe you!"

It was the first thing that came out my mouth, and surprisingly it caused her to pause as well. Her brow twitching slightly as I approached, and I tugged the wig off my head, letting it hit the floor pitifully. Screw secret identities, she already knew me, and with that vacant haze clouding her eyes, I could hardly recognise her.

"Madame Rosaline?"

I murmured softly, as not to startle her. It was bizarre seeing the woman who bought me so much misery during my schooling years, to be at her lowest point. Most would encourage that I feel no sympathy for her, that she got what she deserved and her last few months were revenge for the brutality she'd treated me with for years.

There was a dull expression in her eyes, she looked up at me, and her expression twitched again, cautious, guarded. I steeled myself, carefully kneeling down by her side, like I used to for my grandmother before she passed away.
"Madame?"

"Is that you? Asteria?"

Her voice wavered slightly.

"It's been so...long..."

She looked, she sounded so weak, and I could feel the subtle tremble in her hands when she gently took mine. Rosaline had aged more in the last three months than she had her entire life. With bags under her eyes and wrinkles and, God, she looked too old for her age, poor thing.

Rosaline looked up, she saw Azriel, and she cracked a small smile. Raising a hand and gesturing for him to come forward.

"My my, look at you, Azriel. You look smart."

She doted on him like a loving Grandmother would, pinching his cheek, adjusting the tie he was wearing since I made him dress smartly. Then Azriel (ever the charmer) took her hand and kissed her knuckles briefly.

"You're looking exquisite Madame."

I did my best not to snort at the chivalry.

"To what do I owe pleasure?"

She asked softly again, not raising her voice any higher than the soft whisper, a product of what seemed to be her hysterical screaming for so long. Screaming her throat raw, and now she couldn't speak properly anymore.

Something in my stomach twisted with a rather grotesque sensation.

"Madame."

I looked up at her, unsure how to begin my questions after seeing the state she was in. Mentally slapping myself, I shook my head to clear my head.

What on earth was I doing?

I couldn't hesitate, I needed answers. I had to push this uncomfortable feeling down and focus on the mission right in front of me.

"Madame."

I repeated, and for some reason my throat felt awfully dry. I don't know why I felt like this, or perhaps I did, and with that I flexed my fingers by my sides.

"I believe you. I don't think you're crazy."

Another deep breath.

"I just want to know what happened, in your own account. Tell me, what happened to you during October."

Her mouth, thin and slightly wrinkled, started to tremble. I could feel it in her hands and I held them once more.

"You're not crazy Rosaline. We don't think you're crazy."

I heard Azriel murmur behind me, his voice soft and comforting, a stark comparison to his usual snide tone and cocky remarks.

"We're here to trace back and find out who did this to you, okay?"
He crouched down slightly to her other side, mirroring my own position.
"We're both here to help."

Rosaline looked between the two of us with a confused expression on her wrinkled face. Her gaze lingered on me for a moment too long before she looked back to Azriel, and again I felt my stomach churn uncomfortably.
"Why?"

"Why not?"
I asked as I looked at her.

"I treated you horribly."

I paused as she said that, likewise, Azriel stilled for a moment, looking at Rosaline, then at me, and waited till I'd made a move. Rosa beat me to it though as she started talking again, her voice grave.
"I was envious, horribly so and now look at where it's bought me."
She laughed, dry and hollow as she made a gesture with her hand.
"The pinnacle of perfection is now, grey, and deemed clinically insane. Spending her days wasting away behind walls and talking to psychotherapist who try to convince me that it was my fault."

She spat bitterly and I stayed quiet a for a couple of moments, thinking about the best way to approach this without making her feel worse.

"What's not perfect about aging?"

I asked quietly, looking down to my own hand where the ring Hiro had gifted me, now resided. My ring finger was now a home to the sparkling piece of jewellery that I promised myself to never remove.
"Perfection isn't singular Rosaline. Not for a long shot. Nothing is immortal."
I murmured, memories of Hiro, Hiro telling me I was perfect, I'd always been perfect, everything that I couldn't tell myself, something that made so much sense and at the same time I didn't want to accept until he drilled it into my brain.

"Perfection is...subjective. Perfection is when you're satisfied that nothing else could be improved. A weak sense of self esteem means that you think you need improvement, which drove that need to find Perfection."

I caught myself starting to smile, and quickly bit it back, steeling my expression again as I looked up to the older woman.

"If everyone at the school was asked, who the most perfect person was...they'd say it was you."

But it seemed my words hadn't registered with her as she shook her head.
"You were perfect."

"I looked perfect, my manners, my speech, my demeanour was perfect."
I interjected firmly.
"That didn't mean I was perfect...my mind wasn't perfect, and my life was never perfect."

A silence fell between us, and I became hyperaware of the hum of electricity running through the sockets and ceiling lights that were a punishing bright white colour.

"What do you want to know?"

Rosaline finally spoke, giving up the go ahead to continue our investigation, and beside me I could hear Azriel let out a quiet noise of surprise.

I looked at her again, my teacher, my tormentor, my evidence.

"Take me back to October."

__________ ❤️ __________

Azriel put his hands together on the table that the three were sat around. A quaint, circular wooden table that Y/n recognised from her office all those years ago at the girl's academy.

"You were walking down the street and then?"

"I blacked out."

Same story, they'd heard it a million times from other people, but both Y/n and Azriel were determined on extracting moe information than what they'd already heard.

"No, you didn't black out. Not yet at least."
Azriel interrupted her firmly.
"Rosa darling, I'm so sorry for what you've had to endure for the last few months but we need details."
He tapped the table.
"Anything else that you remember. No one behind you? No one sneaking up? Footsteps?

Rosaline shook her head, brow furrowed slightly and biting on already chewed lips as she did her best to recall her last memories of the days that felt like they were weeks ago, instead of months.

"Nothing, none of the sort. The street is always very quiet at the time I leave the school to go to my car."
She made a slight gesture with her hand as she spoke to the two, her eyes lingering on Y/n as she spoke to her old student.
"Nothing but the streetlights and those horrible horrible bugs that fly around them."

Y/n perked up immediately.
"Bugs, what sort of bugs ?'

"The usual? Don't all bugs just hover around the lights ?"

"So, moths?"
Y/n leaned back in her seat, arms crossed as she tapped a pen on a pad of paper she carried with her.
"Could be mayflies? Or flies...then again, mayflies are found near wetlands. Near the school, it's almost devoid of bugs-"

Azriel looked at the girl beside him like she'd suddenly grown two heads, as he listened to the bug-inspired tangent she was going off.
"Slow down, are the bugs really a big deal?
He scoffed, raising a brow with a skeptical look on his face as Y/n met his eyes with a determined nod.

"Any information, is crucial information and-"

"Can we stop talking about bugs please?"
Rosaline interjected the small squabble that the two were engaging in, shuddered and scratched the back of her left hand, till Azriel stopped her. The red-haired man grabbed her hand, glancing over the reddened skin that had been scratched at over a period of time, a small tut leaving his mouth and lowering his voice to a sickeningly sweet tone.

"Aww Rosie...what happened to your hand?"

If there's one thing he was good at, Y/n observed, it was that he was a natural at buttering women up with words he knew would catch them. Hook, line and sinker.

"I've had this...itch...for months on that one spot on my hand. It hasn't left me for ages. I've never felt an itch like that anywhere else. It's just...that...place."

She tried to scratch herself again till Azriel started rubbing his thumb over the area again. A technique to soothe the spot, and Y/n hummed quietly to herself as she reminisced the times she used to do the same. Gently stroking the hands and flesh of children she babysat before, the ones who had eczema and wouldn't stop scratching themselves.

"When did it start?"
The young woman asked suddenly.
"The itching."

Rosaline looked at Y/n like she was the crazy one, but Y/n ignored that, focusing on the reply which the older woman gave her.

"Uhm...since I woke up in the present?"

Rosaline's answer was slow, unsure of herself which was natural considering she'd spent several months under the influence of something no one could understand. Something that had blocked her consciousness and had her acting out as Princess Perfect for several months. Something almost like...

"I've got it."

Azriel perked up at the quiet murmur that came from the girl beside him.
"Got what? What is it Sherlock?"

Y/n sighed and shook her head, standing up and looking at the time on her phone. She'd given them both a large enough window of time to see Rosaline and get out without drawing suspicion to the altered cameras. She'd given them both half an hour, and fifteen of those minutes had already passed.

"I'll tell you later, I think I've got some clues. Well..."

Y/n trailed off as she looked to the