Chapter Text
The school stood at the edge of the city — a sprawl of pale walls and overgrown ivy, the kind that crept up windows and carved its own veins through brick. Every morning smelled faintly of chalk, coffee, and rain that never seemed to leave the air.
The halls were already humming with footsteps when Azure walked in. His tie was perfectly aligned — deep violet — and his gloves pristine, though faint dirt stains clung to their fingertips. He passed the classrooms silently, the murmurs of students blurring into white noise. His tendrils, hidden beneath his coat, shifted faintly with each heartbeat.
It had been months since the breakup.
Two Time’s laughter still echoed somewhere in the back of his mind, cruel in its nostalgia. They’d lived together for nearly three years — quiet breakfasts, late-night debates, the strange warmth of a shared home. Until the cult came.
At first, it had been harmless talk — “self-improvement,” “spiritual alignment,” “Spawn’s philosophy.” Then it became all they talked about. Then it became all they were. - “ Come on, babe, it’s not that deep. Just try one meeting—they’re not insane.”
Azure remembered that night — the shouting, the shaking of hands, the tear in his chest when Two Time said,
“ You’d understand if you weren’t so scared of change. ”
They left the next day.
He hadn’t cried, not immediately. But every time he touched soil after that, it felt heavier.
Now, he only weeped when watering plants, so the tears could blend with something living.
He unlocked the Biology room and breathed in the scent of earth and glass terrariums. Nightshades bloomed by the window — his favorite, of course. Beautiful. Poisonous. Constant.
He whispered. - “ Morning. ” - As if they could answer.
Down the hall, 1x slammed a door open with his usual lack of grace. His red tie hung loose; his sleeves were rolled unevenly, one higher than the other.
“ Christ, ” - he muttered, tossing his bag onto the desk. - “ If one more kid forgets how to log in, I retire. ”
He rubbed his temple, staring at the rows of computers glowing too bright for 8 a.m. The monitor reflected his face — silver-white hair falling over one eye, ponytail messy. He looked tired. Not physically, but in that deep, bone-stuck way.
His phone buzzed.
Shedletsky — [ New message ]
Even after blocking him so many times, he’d still find a way to contact him. 1x didn’t even have to read it. The preview was enough;
“ Want to grab dinner soon? Buildy will be there! ^ ^ ”
1x hissed through his teeth and locked the screen.
“ Sure. Maybe after hell freezes. ”
He hadn’t spoken to Shedletsky in years — not properly. The man had been too busy with his perfect little marriage to Builderman to notice that his own kid had grown up furious. The divorce with Brighteyes had been a blur of phone calls and - “ You’ll understand when you’re older. ”
It didn’t. He never did.
He didn’t even go to their wedding.
“ ‘It’s just a phase,’ huh? ” - He muttered bitterly. - “ Yeah, fuck you too, old man. ”
For someone who hated love, 1x sure spent a lot of time thinking about it.
By mid-morning, the staff lounge filled with a lazy buzz — coffee machines humming, paper rustling. John Doe, in a neatly pressed vest, was showing baby pictures to Mafioso, who nodded politely, half listening.
“ Look at them, ” - John said proudly, tapping a photo of a chubby infant with a tuft of dark hair. - “ Jane says they’re starting to crawl. ”
1x grumbled, sipping burnt coffee. - “ Great. Another human learning how to scream. ”
“ Don’t be so bitter! ” - John said with a grin. “ You like them. You watched them last week. ”
“ It happened once. ”
“ They drooled on your tie. ”
“ Yeah, and? They’re not paying rent, are they? ”
John laughed, shaking his head. - “ You’re hopeless. ”
Across the room, Azure entered quietly, a stack of papers in his hands.
" I bid you good morrow, Mr. Azurewrath. " - Mafioso greeted.
He gave a polite nod to John, to Mafioso, and hesitated only slightly before nodding to 1x — a small, uncertain motion.
1x returned it with a half-grunt, half-acknowledgment.
Their eyes met — just briefly.
Azure looked away first, murmuring a soft greeting to John before pouring tea into a ceramic cup with steady, quiet hands. His demeanor was calm, composed — but worn. Like pressed lavender petals kept between pages too long.
1x didn’t linger on the glance.
He finished his coffee with visible annoyance, dropped the paper cup into the trash, and left the lounge without another word.
The day dragged on — classes, papers, noise.
By the time the bell rang for the last period, 1x’s patience had burned out completely.
“ Alright, geniuses, ” - he snapped, shutting down a monitor. - “ next time, if you manage to type your password right, I might throw a party. ”
The students laughed — nervously — and filed out. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
The air smelled faintly of metal and overheated plastic. He was done.
He left the building before anyone could corner him into small talk, leather jacket slung over one arm. The late afternoon light cut through the parking lot, catching the dull shine of his motorcycle parked near the gate.
It was old, battered, and loud — just how he liked it.
He swung his leg over, started the engine, and the roar drowned out the lingering thoughts. The wind stung against his face as he sped through the streets, city blurring into muted colors. For a moment, the noise was almost peace.
When he got home — a dim apartment stacked with spare parts and half-working computers — the silence hit hard.
He tossed his jacket onto a chair and collapsed onto the bed.
He lay back, staring at the ceiling fan spinning lazily overhead. The day replayed itself in flashes — Shedletsky’s message, John’s grin, the blur of faces in class.
And Azure.
Quiet, calm, polite Azure.
He hadn’t said more than two words to him, never bothered. But there was something, somethine he couldn’t shake off.
Maybe it was because he didn’t look as irritable as the rest of the staff.
Maybe it was because there was a strange familiarity in the way he looked at the world — like he’d loved something once, and it left a scar.
Maybe, just maybe, he’d try talking to Azure tomorrow.
If he didn’t lose his nerve first.