Chapter Text
A tall, young man stood before the dark gates with a paper bag of neatly wrapped gift boxes in one hand, a bouquet in the other, and a small plush tucked under his arm. The hydrangea flowers complemented his white hair, dark blue trench coat, and off-white slacks, while the light-blue dromas plush softened the severity of his handsome features.
A group of elementary-school girls passed by, slowing when they noticed the plush. One of them waved first, bold with curiosity, and the others followed. Phainon gave a polite smile in return. School had just ended, and children with bright randoseru backpacks walked in clusters, some heading home and others toward cram school or club activities.
They giggled and whispered to each other teasingly as they pointed at the dromas. Phainon held back a chuckle as he adjusted his hold on the plush more securely and carefully. The one he wanted to see wouldn’t have approved of the way he held it like a noose just a few moments ago.
Dromas, it seemed, was much more popular here than it was anywhere else.
The streets were clean and friendly. The sun was warm against his skin, and the cool breeze was gentle on his already messy hair. This neighborhood, at least, seemed built from quiet routines and peaceful order, far from the crowded stations and tourist-heavy streets of the city center.
A sharp contrast to his last life.
Of war, death, famine… and a cosmic threat.
His cyan eyes flickered to the houses nearby, whose gates were not as formidable or tall as the one in front of him. The traditional home before him stretched far beyond the neighboring houses, less a private residence than an old family estate.
Phainon had just moved from Europe to this country a few weeks ago.
The country where he had found Anaxa.
By a strange twist of fate, while all the other Chrysos Heirs had been born in different parts of Europe, Anaxa had been living in Japan. Their first meeting had been in a classroom where he barely spoke the language.
His lips curled into a soft smile at the memory of his own surprise at finding Anaxa—those nonchalant aqua-and-fuchsia eyes, and that long mint hair tied into a low ponytail over one shoulder. Unlike his classmates, Anaxa had barely registered Phainon as the new transfer student.
He hadn’t been surprised to see the lack of recognition within Anaxa’s gaze.
After all, none of the other Chrysos Heirs remembered their past, either.
Amphoreus had become real in this life, remade into something peaceful and modern.
Phainon exhaled a breath as he reached for the doorbell, finally ringing it—barely reading the nameplate ‘Kuwabara’ above the bell, though something about it seemed familiar.
They had been together since high school. It had taken nearly a whole year to convince Anaxa to be in a relationship with him. After being forced back to England, their relationship had survived through messages, calls, visits, and waiting.
And now, he was here to ask Anaxa’s parents for their son’s hand.
For a first meeting, he at least wanted to make a good impression on Anaxa’s parents. Hopefully, they would approve.
The door opened. An unfamiliar older man with sharp grey eyes and neatly combed brown hair streaked with grey appeared at the entrance in an old-fashioned, but comfortable, dark yukata. Phainon nearly faltered at the lack of resemblance between this man and Anaxa. If it weren’t for the picture that Anaxa had sent him of his father, he would have thought he was at the wrong house. Then again, Anaxa had mentioned that he and his sister were adopted.
The man asked in Japanese, his voice low and patient.
「おや、あなたは？」
(And you are?)
Phainon gave what he hoped was his award-winning smile before introducing himself in surprisingly fluent Japanese.
「初めまして。ファイノンと申します。息子さんのアナクサゴラスと、長い間お付き合いしております。」
(Nice to meet you. My name is Phainon. I’ve been in a relationship with your son, Anaxagoras, for a very long time.)
He bowed respectfully.
“Khaslana?” a familiar deep voice asked in English. The tone and cadence were the same as the one he remembered for millions of cycles—the slow, deliberate way of speaking from a man Phainon had killed more than once, though death had never been enough to keep Lygus gone.
Phainon straightened from his bow as he stared wide-eyed at the man before him.
What?
“Lygus—?”
You’re the one who adopted Anaxa!?
Phainon was invited to stay for tea.
Water trickled through the bamboo fountain in the pond beyond the open shoji doors. Coral-orange and red koi drifted through the pond, their movements lazy beneath the fading afternoon sun as the bamboo tilted, emptying its contents over the fish, before repeating the process again and again.
Two men sat at the low table, kneeling over the tatami mats. One glared with enough hostility to promise death and pain without a word, while the other smiled with an air of superiority and amusement as though death were an old title he had worn often enough to mock.
To think he had bowed to this very man.
With a hum, Lygus broke the silence. “Anaxagoras had informed me that he had been seeing someone for a long time. I suppose it only makes sense that you were the one my son was seeing. Even outside the simulation, certain probabilities still insist on repeating themselves.” The smile was unmistakably familiar, but felt almost unnatural on a face with flesh and bones—unlike the cold, seamless casing of the Antikytheran he remembered. Human. “How curious that we would walk the same path once more. Fate truly does have a sense of humor after all.”
Son… Disgust shimmered beneath his skin as Phainon clenched his fists over his knees beneath the table. His face stayed cool and neutral, even as his cyan eyes flickered with bitter hatred. Years of patience had taught him to control his anger until only silence remained. “We are not the same.”
“Yet, we are the only two to inherit Amphoreus’ data.”
The tea before Phainon remained untouched, served by the man before him, who only looked more amused the longer Phainon sat unmoved.
Lygus chuckled. His grey eyes swirled with amusement at the gift boxes, flowers, and plush beside Phainon. “So, you’ve come here to ask for my son’s hand. It intrigues me to see how well you have integrated into this world’s culture. Quite a contrast from your times on Amphoreus, don’t you think, Khaslana?”
All the cycles before this one had been full of violence and bloodshed. Peace only came in brief respites.
“Don’t call me Khaslana.” If he had known that this was who he would have had to ask for blessings, then he would have tried to convince Anaxa to elope instead.
“Of course, you go by Phainon here as well, then.”
Lygus reached for his own tea with an unnaturally soft smile. “Unfortunately, you had just missed Anaxagoras. He and Diotima had just left to procure ingredients for dinner tonight. Diotima insisted on cooking for Anaxagoras as a way to celebrate this special day.”
Phainon had met Diotima early in high school. Anaxa’s sister was alive and well in this life.
“I was, however, expecting you far later,” Lygus said before taking a sip of his tea. His gaze flickered to the garden with the pond.
The garden was deceivingly tranquil compared to the turmoil of emotions trapped within the room.
“… Now, perhaps this is where I should ask what your plan is with Anaxagoras, like any father out there.” The teacup clicked onto the table. “However, I believe, we’re past such pleasantries considering our rather long history.”
Phainon had nearly forgotten how much Lygus enjoyed his own monologues. If murder weren’t a crime in this country, he would have considered beheading the man in this life as well.
“Even if you don’t approve, I won’t stop seeing Anaxa,” Phainon said coldly.
“Nonsense, I had grown to enjoy the serenity in this life. After you had painstakingly worked your way into Anaxagoras’s heart, the last thing I would want is to cause such disruption within my children’s lives.”
Bitterness filled the space within his chest at the sight of the grey eyes softening under the afternoon sun at the mention of Anaxa. Phainon had always been exceptionally good at reading people, more so now that Lygus was reborn as a human. He didn’t know how to feel about Lygus having actual emotions after millions of cycles of knowing the Antikytheran.
Phainon drew the cup closer before his thoughts could circle back. He didn’t think he could survive another emotional whiplash today. The pale green tea reflected the light, and for a moment, all he could think of was mint-colored hair slipping through his fingers.
Only the sound of the water trickling filled the silence that had fallen on them until a female voice called out from the hall.
“—Dad! We’re home!”
Diotima called out from the entrance, her voice echoing through the house—no, mansion. The guest room they were in was a little farther from the entrance.
“Well, then,” Lygus said as he stood up. “Please make yourself comfortable as I go greet my children, Mr. Phainon.”
Without further words, Lygus walked out of the room and into the hallway. The shoji doors before the garden stayed open, allowing the gentle breeze to lift Phainon’s hair. The wind that should have felt refreshing only served to leave him unsettled.
His mind instinctively separated his thoughts, emotions, and memories of the past as he sought to find solace. His cyan eyes unfocused as he stared into the pond, where a single white koi drifted alone in the corner.
This isn’t Amphoreus, is what he told himself for the millionth time.
“—Phainon?”
He blinked at the sight of Anaxa, who had just stepped into his vision. The casual light shirt and pants clung attractively to his slender figure. Phainon barely registered the adorable Dromas slippers Anaxa was wearing before they disappeared when he knelt beside him.
“I expected you later. We’ve barely started on cooking dinner.” Anaxa picked up the empty teacup left behind by Lygus and set it on a wooden tray with the teapot. “I see you finally met my father.”
Father. Just a single word shattered the illusion of his reality.
“Haha, sorry,” Phainon said, forcing himself to smile—his cheek muscles stiffened and taut in protest. “I just couldn’t help myself. I wanted to make a good impression, you know.”
And what a good impression it was.
Anaxa stared at him for a long moment, his expression thoughtful. However, his aqua-and-fuchsia eyes flickered with barely concealed worry as he left the tray on the table. “Did something happen?”
Phainon blinked. “No, nothing happened.”
“You mentioned you wanted to make a good impression. But something changed,” Anaxa paused for a second as though considering his next words carefully. “What happened between you and… Lygus?”
In the past? Phainon stilled at the words Anaxa had not said aloud. Even though he had never spoken of the past cycles, Anaxa had always suspected there was something more he wasn’t saying. Somehow, Anaxa had already connected his memories of past cycles to his father.
Yet, Anaxa never pushed him to talk about it, as if he understood that he wasn’t ready to reveal their past lives or what he had endured to get here. His chest tightened with warmth, relief, and a desperate kind of want. Even without the memories of the past, Anaxa had always been able to see through him. No matter who they were.
Or how many times Anaxa had slipped through his fingers…
Barely a moment passed before Phainon pulled Anaxa to his side, closing the gap between them. He relished the small gasp escaping those soft lips before capturing them with his own. His fingers tangled into the long, mint hair as Anaxa’s lips parted beneath his, warm and familiar and painfully real.
Anaxa was here.
Alive.
Whole.
Phainon leaned into him, guiding him back against the tatami as Anaxa’s hands clutched at his chest.
His other hand slipped beneath the cotton fabric to touch the smooth skin—without cracks or scarring. Desperation won out as his thumb brushed too roughly over a sensitive place, lingering until Anaxa arched with another breathless moan. His knee shifted between Anaxa’s legs before he could think better of it, an instinctive, selfish need to keep Anaxa close.
Anaxa tensed beneath him before pushing him away, breaking the kiss. “P-Phainon. S-stop. N-not here, please.”
Phainon stopped. Completely.
A deep blush burned across Anaxa’s cheeks, tears clinging to the corners of his eyes as he sought to catch his breath. Anaxa crossed a slender arm over his chest, barring Phainon from going any further.
Oh. Clarity returned like cold water. Phainon went rigid with realization, shame cutting through the haze of pleasure and desperation. Anaxa looked undone beneath him, lips reddened and wet from the kiss.
“H-Have you forgotten where we are?”
Right, they weren’t alone. Not truly, no matter how large the estate was.
“Sorry.” He withdrew his knee from between Anaxa’s legs. His hand slipped out from beneath the cotton, fingers curling against the tatami, but he stayed close enough to bury his burning face into Anaxa’s neck.
Mint, intimate and alive, filled his lungs until the room stopped tilting beneath him.
He forced the heat in his body down.
Phainon felt the slender fingers threading through his hair as he breathed deeply. His lips rested against the pulse beneath Anaxa’s throat, each heartbeat fast and uneven against his mouth. Eventually, the pulse calmed to a steady beat, and he kept still as he exhaled through his nose.
Real. This is real.
Anaxa didn’t push him away. Instead, he hugged him closer.
“… Sorry,” Phainon said once more. He reluctantly withdrew from the hug and sat back, crossing his legs for comfort. Then he helped Anaxa sit up in front of him. Somehow, Anaxa managed to recover his dignity faster than Phainon did. “Are you alright?”
Phainon faced away from Anaxa’s clothes that were still in disarray.
He didn’t mean to go so far.
”Anaxa, I…”
Soft hands were placed on his cheeks before he was pulled back toward Anaxa with surprising strength. His eyes widened at the featherlight touch of their lips connecting, nothing like the desperate passion from earlier.
It was rare for Anaxa to initiate contact. Almost as though he was trying to rewrite their desperate passion with something softer. Phainon closed his eyes as he leaned into the comforting kiss.
Their lips stayed connected for another moment before Anaxa pulled away to bury his face into his chest. Phainon could see how red Anaxa’s ears were, and his own body warmed with fondness instead of arousal. His arms embraced Anaxa carefully as they sat in silence, secured in each other’s presence.
Phainon barely picked up the small, but muffled whisper of ‘I’m fine’ from Anaxa. And he buried his face into the soft, mint strands.
“Are you alright?” Anaxa asked after a long moment.
No, he really wasn’t alright. Phainon didn’t answer Anaxa’s question. And instead, he smiled anyway.
Outside, the white koi flicked its tail around, creating a ripple in the pond as it swam back to its brethren.
They sat beside each other in the tea room, close enough for their sleeves to nearly touch, though Anaxa kept a careful inch of space between them. Phainon noticed and did not move closer.
“Well,” Anaxa said, having fixed his clothes and hair to hide the evidence of their recent activities. “What happened between you and Lygus this afternoon?”
“Nothing.” Phainon finally sipped the green tea in front of him, and the corner of his lips tilted down. It was now lukewarm, though the bitterness that filled his mouth served to calm him down.
“Nothing happened,” he repeated as he set the nearly full cup down. Green tea was still hard for him to get used to.
And nothing did happen. For all they did was talk.
At the corner of his eyes, Anaxa pursed his lips, unsatisfied with his answer, but didn’t push. Phainon furrowed his brows, knowing how his secrecy must look to anyone else. Anaxa, unlike the others, had never pushed for an answer, allowing Phainon the freedom to stay silent.
Though Phainon wouldn’t be surprised if Anaxa had already figured it out, even without his memories.
The sun outside started to wane as evening approached.
When the tip of his fingers touched the petals, Phainon glanced at his other side as though just remembering the gifts he had brought. “Oh, right, this is for everyone.”
Anaxa accepted the boxes full of European sweets and tea—specialties from Great Britain—with a raised brow. “Thank you.”
Phainon almost sighed. He would have given the gifts to Anaxa’s father, but the thought of politely handing Lygus anything had apparently broken some essential part of his mind.
Forget asking for blessings. He’d be lucky to even survive the family dinner.
Afterwards, when he presented the bouquet of hydrangeas and a plush dromas, Anaxa’s eyes lit up. The soft smile on Anaxa’s face as he hugged the plush made up for all the stress he endured today.
Phainon stared at the dinner. The low table for four sat on tatami, each place arranged with a zabuton cushion and enough small dishes to make the meal look ceremonial. It would have been normal if it hadn’t been placed in a room that looked to hold a table for over fifteen people.
He and Anaxa had to change rooms to get to the dining room. Along the way, Anaxa had guided him as they walked past the various rooms on the first floor. Although the residence was still traditionally Japanese, the few empty rooms made it feel rather haunted. Anaxa had informed him that they were empty for future renovations.
One thing he had been able to conclude from all this was that the Kuwabara family estate was more than just wealthy.
The dinner before him looked deceptively normal at first glance: rice, soup, grilled fish, simmered vegetables, small dishes arranged with deliberate balance and color.
Phainon eyed the fresh seafood, meat, and vegetables that practically shone like gems. If it hadn’t been for Mydei’s endless lectures about restaurant-grade ingredients, Phainon wouldn’t have recognized half of what sat before him. Was that A5 wagyu? Lobster? Uni?
It also looked like one of the high-class dinners that Aglaea had invited him to a few times when he had worked for her.
And… Phainon glanced at everyone else’s meals. His portion was three times the size. Anaxa’s set seemed to have more vegetables than meat or fish than the others.
“I’ve told them, you eat lots,” Anaxa said beside him, noticing his gaze. “Like a dromas.”
By sheer willpower, Phainon managed not to give Anaxa a look of undeniable disbelief. As adorable and loving as it was to have Anaxa compare him to a Dromas, he did not eat that much. Later, he would have a talk with Anaxa about this.
Lygus smiled across him. “Indeed. Diotima and I prepared only the finest ingredients. I do hope this is more than sufficient for you, Mr. Phainon.”
Diotima, Anaxa’s sister, gave him a friendly wave and mouthed, ‘Hi Phainon.’ Her eyes were a darker shade than Anaxa’s, but were no less kind behind her glasses. He nodded back. They had met a few times while he was in his first year of high school. She hadn’t been around as much during Anaxa’s high school years as she had been at school getting her degree.
“This is more than enough. Thank you,” Phainon said with as much politeness as he could muster with an equally blinding smile of his own.
“Why, of course, anything for our most esteemed guest. Now, let us eat.”
Inside, he thanked Aglaea for teaching him proper table manners. Though he had to improvise as both cultures were terribly different, for now, the only things he needed to mind were the chopsticks, posture, and when not to speak. He discreetly poked at the lobster as though it might come alive. He was almost certain one of the legs had twitched, despite the meat already arranged neatly over the split shell.
“Oh,” Diotima said, holding a hand over her mouth as she chewed the sashimi before swallowing. She turned to Lygus. “Oh, wow. Dad, this is delicious. How did you prepare this?”
“With deliberate skill and technique. When ingredients are of this quality, cooking becomes less a matter of alteration and more a matter of preparation.”
“Sometimes, I wonder where you learned these skills, Dad. Are you sure you’re a lawyer?”
Amusement stemmed from Lygus as his features softened with nostalgia. “I enjoy law and orderliness far too much to be anything else.”
Phainon’s hand stilled in surprise as he gazed down at the meal. It shouldn’t be that much of a surprise to him that Lygus knew how to cook. Years on Amphoreus could become dull while waiting for time to pass in one cycle. What was more astonishing was how the Antikytheran had learned to prepare food that appealed to human taste when he could not truly taste or eat anything himself.
“Tuna and chocolate,” Anaxa murmured as he poked an otoro sashimi with chopsticks.
“Huh?” Phainon asked. Tuna? Chocolate? He was sure those ingredients shouldn’t be mixed.
Diotima giggled, having clearly heard her little brother’s mumble. “Naxy, I thought we promised not to mention that in front of Dad years ago.”
“Correction, sister.” Anaxa dipped the tuna into the soy sauce before holding it up dubiously. The tuna was coated with the dark liquid, which dripped back into the soy sauce. If it weren’t for how light the sauce was, it could have looked like chocolate. “I never made such a promise.”
“I admit,” Lygus said, still smiling, though this time there was a small crack in his smile. “There was a period when I had to experiment with the culinary challenges that plague the world today.”
“Yes, we can’t forget the time when we had sardines with ice cream, can we?” Diotima said as she tried to continue eating. Her lips quivered as though she was holding in her laughter.
Sardines… ice cream… Phainon’s mind stopped working. They were food combinations that he was sure would have gotten him on Mydei’s instant ban list if he ever brought them up.
“Eventually, I’ve gotten both combinations to work, didn’t I?”
“With a whole year of trial and error,” Anaxa deadpanned. “I’m afraid, Father, that it would take me another lifetime to forget the horrid taste of peanut butter and squid for our dinner that one time.”
Now, Diotima couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “Oh, Naxy. We got to give Dad credit for trying his best, right?”
“Hah, you’re right. It was only through our father’s immaculate patience and persistence for perfection that we had survived thus far under his care,” Anaxa said in a matter-of-fact tone. There was teasing lightness in his aqua eyes as he ate the food with fondness.
Is this abuse? Does this count as abuse?
From which side?
Phainon had his mouth open in surprise. Actual goosebumps prickled along his arms from the rather warm and teasing family exchange.
He barely held back a shiver. Was there something pink on Lygus’s face?
“Phainon, here.” Anaxa held up an unfamiliar sashimi to his mouth with chopsticks. The sashimi was clear white, almost transparent, and had been lightly dipped in soy sauce. “This is fugu.”
Fugu?
Phainon automatically accepted the food even as his mind spiraled, barely registering what Anaxa had said. He chewed thoroughly as the light and salty flavor filled his mouth. The delicate thin cuts were perfectly done, and it felt like silk on his tongue. It had no right to be so… delicious. Begrudging respect stabbed through his stomach as he finally remembered what the word fugu meant in Japanese. Preparing a puffer fish was by no means easy, as it required years of training to get to this level.
This type of fish hadn’t existed on Amphoreus.
Anaxa continued feeding him delicacies until they were nearly finished with dinner. Phainon eyed Anaxa’s pile of food with knitted brows, suspecting that he was being hand-fed because Anaxa could not finish his—not that he minded much, but it worried him that the other man ate so little. Diotima had a relaxed, but resigned air about her, as though she was used to Anaxa doing this. His suspicion was confirmed when Anaxa, not-so-discreetly, placed some on Lygus’s and Diotima’s plates as well.
Much like his past lives, Anaxa had a very small appetite. Something Phainon had hoped wasn’t the case now in these peaceful times. Thankfully, it seemed Anaxa was still being well-fed, so his slender frame looked healthy.
“Mr. Phainon,” Lygus said with a tight smile. “I’ve heard from Diotima that you’ve been to this country before as part of the exchange program for your school in England. It must have been some years since you’ve been in this country, no? Perhaps you would like to regale us with a summary of what you’ve been doing until now?”
Phainon straightened with a slight frown. “After high school, I immediately attended a university in England, and just recently graduated with a master’s degree in archaeology.”
Antiques had always been his passion since childhood.
“So you’ve immediately come here after graduating?” The smile on Lygus’s face was polite and almost frozen. However, Phainon could tell that he was currently being interrogated. It was almost surreal that Lygus was actually playing the role of a father for Anaxa. “Are you perhaps on a work visa?”
“I am.”
“When have you arrived?”
“A few weeks ago.”
“What work have you secured?”
“An English teacher.” It was part-time at a small school that was an hour away by train.
“Where are you currently situated?”
Phainon frowned. “For now, a hostel.” His search for somewhere affordable to stay in the long term was still in progress.
Diotima looked surprised as she chimed in. “Oh, you’re living with other people, Phainon?”
“Ah, yes, with four others.” It was a dormitory, and one of the cheapest options until he could find another place. Half of his roommates were tourists themselves.
Clink.
Anaxa carefully placed his chopsticks before getting up. He started grabbing the empty plates on a tray almost meticulously.
“Oh, Phainon, it’s alright. Naxy and I got this.” Diotima stopped him with a warm smile when he got up to help. She helped Anaxa stack them together. “You’re our guest, after all.”
Phainon frowned, but sat back down as he watched the siblings leave together through another entrance, each carrying their own weight of dirty dishes. Anaxa hadn’t looked at him once throughout it all.
“How peculiar,” Lygus said. His grey eyes were sharp as though he was studying a specimen instead of Phainon. “Even after all this time, you revert to predictable patterns as though you were still a code. Unburdened as you are now, I would have expected some ingenuity from you. Yet, you remain precise in all the wrong places.”
“What?”
“Oh, nothing of your concern.” Lygus smiled. Cold amusement settled over him as though they were back on Amphoreus. The fatherly warmth withdrew, almost mechanically, now that his children were gone.
Phainon’s lips tightened. Now, this was the machine he remembered—always speaking in philosophical riddles as though he were the only genius in the room.
“Perhaps all those cycles have made you short-sighted. But times have changed, Khaslana.” Lygus leaned against the table, chin resting on his folded hands. “Devotion and hope will rarely get you anywhere in this world.”
“What,” Phainon asked, his voice edged with ice, “are you implying?”
Lygus’s grey eyes sharpened with amusement, but there was also a hint of something else within his gaze. Hostile and predatory. “Allow me… to make you an offer that you will be hard-pressed to refuse.”
Phainon’s eyes narrowed. The last time he had heard such an offer from this thing, it had almost led to the end of the universe.
“Come live with us.”
What?
Phainon opened his mouth, but no sound came out.