Archive of Our Own ^beta

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You’re only curious.

It starts when you hear about her. Decim explains she is one who remembered her death, and for some reason, this resonates deep within you.

You allow them to keep her. You make an exception that she must be wakened by your hand.

So you wait, her memories erased and her slumbering form before you.

Strange..

She wakes.

You take her to Quindecim, where you explain her position. You watch as she takes in the new environment. You proceed to stay with her through that first judgement. It’s been a while since you witnessed any real emotion, which she inflects upon the events. It surprises you only the slightest to find sympathy for the inconsequential judgement. it’s only business, you silently chastise. What would it be like..

You encourage her to continue. Her insights are interesting, to say the least.

You tell Decim to take note as you take your leave.

Intriguing..

Clavis asks your thoughts, to which you surprise yourself.

You think about how curious she is, the light she seems to bring. What you yearn for most.

“Quite well.”

This irritates you, as you think about it more. You change your answer. She’s still only just satisfactory.

As you lay in bed, it’s thoughts of her that surface. You turn to the wall.

1

Arbiters can’t have emotions.

Oh, but what they do.

What they could..

2

You check up on her frequently. You justify to yourself that it’s because you must, to see how your experiment is playing out. Her effect on Decim, though they seem as immobile as ever. On closer inspection, were you to take the time to look, you’d notice that their countenance is softer. Not much, but you can’t deny the minuscule changes surfacing in them.

It sparks something deep, deep inside when you see how she smiles at them.

“Hmph.”

You’ve seen enough for today.

3

They’re an experiment, you remind yourself. She means nothing more than a means to an end.

You toss in bed again. Another sleepless night..

4

A flicker of color plays behind your eyelids. You don’t really need sleep, as this is a privilege reserved for the living. But yet you still try, because sometimes you swear you can dream. Blurs dance across your mind as you feel something stir. It’s faint, and it has no image, but it’s real, somehow.

A weight sits in your stomach, as you can’t name this feeling, but you know somehow you have before, within another lifetime.

You decide to pay her a visit.

Inside Quindecim, it is silent. It’s late, but yet there you are. You had given her a call before you came, of course, because you couldn’t just impose on them.

You walk to her room, a sliver of light pouring into the hallway.

A dark silhouette inside moves, and you can see it going through the movements, hear the sounds of cloth against skin as she gets dressed to see you. You see nothing, but your heart still stops. You knock lightly on the door. She opens it, wearing her usual attire. Your breath still hasn’t found you.

You’re aware Decim must be somewhere close by, probably tending to their mannequins. What a sickly habit.

“Were you sleeping?” is your way of a greeting.

She shifts. “No.” A pause. “Is there something you wanted?”

Your eyes stay attached to hers as she moves more into the doorway. “Not particularly.”

She exhales. You find the simple gesture amusing. She moves past you, leading you to the bar area. Her arm brushes yours only to the slightest extent, and you feel unexpected electricity in the simple contact.

She’s about to ask you what sort of drink you want, but you cut in before she has the chance to.

“Don’t bother yourself, let me do it. I never get to do much these days, anyways. They probably work you enough during the day,” you rationalize yourself to her, a bit bitter with the mention of Decim.

You move next to where she stands to take over. It’s not the way you’d usually act. She doesn’t move much, and you end up side by side again.

It reminds you of something else you’ve failed to remember.

You feel her eyes on you as you make the both of you your specialty drink.

“It’s not too bad. I enjoy working with Decim,” she replies.

“Hmph.”

You both stay in silence while you finish, but it’s not uncomfortable. On the contrary, it feels familiar, in a strange way.

You’re only curious, you think as you hand her the drink, fingers brushing in the exchange. Weighted stares face each other.

You know Decim must be close by, working on those damned dummies. You engage in light conversation together, ignoring the growing pit in your stomach.

It becomes a regular occurrence for the two of you.

5

Oculus can’t find out.

Not that there’s anything to find out, which confuses your reasoning as you try, fruitlessly, to drift into sleep.

You get a sense of foreboding.

6

You know they’re your experiment, yet you’re not sure when the lines became so blurred as to your observation becoming a study of not Decim, but her. 

You haven’t noticed, but she certainly has. 

It’s late as you make your way to Quindecim again. These late night visits with her have become so frequent that it’s just routine at this point. They give you sustenance. You haven’t stopped to think much about it, but you realize Decim never disturbs the two of you during these visits. You know you’re meant to be watching them, but you aren’t as focused on that for the time being.

Arbiters never die, for it would place them too near to humans. Yet you get the sense that time has become very limited.

It’s become so routine, these visits, that you just go to the bar, make the drinks and wait for her to come to see you. Nothing’s different today, but that’s when you see her out of the corner of your eye.

She’s still in her night gown, but this one is different from her usual. It’s a nice black sheer that accentuates her shape. You wonder how and where she got it.

She smiles.

You make a small noise of acknowledgement as you turn your eyes back to the drinks. You see her turn towards the black couches situated in the room, taking a seat to wait for you.

As you approach, she never takes her eyes away from yours. It doesn’t unnerve you, and you stare straight back. It’s all too familiar, but you can’t remember why.

You slip into conversation as the two of you always do. The air is heavier this time though, and your eyes can’t help but trace her silhouette against the lights of the room, the way her hair frames exquisite eyes, how she carries the subtle fragrance of musky roses.

You may not have noticed, but she certainly has.

As she drinks, you can’t help but wonder how the amber liquid would taste from her lips. You’re only curious.

You’re only curious, you justify, as you inch closer in what little room there was between the two of you, hands touching as you stare at those lips and she leans in closer. Just wondering, as you close your eyes and your lips meet.

She sighs into the kiss.

It only lasts a moment.

6

You want to get her memories back.

Though it’s not at the forefront of your thoughts, you feel you want your own as well.

You still don’t realize.

You’re also afraid, because it’s all too familiar.

Her name is Chiyuki.

7

You find out Chiyuki was cast into the Void, and you feel like you’re being ripped apart.

Because it’s right there, right in that moment when you collapse on the floor that you finally see that you were in love with her.

It shocks you to feel arms wrap around you.

“I’m terribly sorry,” they choke through their tears. You freeze up as you recognize Decim’s pain as your own. A sickening shudder runs through you as you realize her judgement was not by their hands.

The experiment was a success.

You’ve been cheated by the hands of a very cruel god.

A voice echoes somewhere in your heart that this has happened once before, but you just can’t remember.

You were only curious.

8

There are four rules.

Arbiters must pass judgement, for it is their reason for existence.

Arbiters cannot die, for that would link them too closely to humans.

Arbiters do not feel emotion, for they are mere dummies.

Arbiters may not work hand in hand with the living, for it will ruin them.