A House Filled With Night
Trapped in a Dream I Had Lost

This was the first time white hair had looked so intimidating to Runa. Perhaps because it was disconcerting to see atop such a young, strong face, or perhaps because it made the tall man in front of her seem that much more like a mythical creature. Not to mention, he had a quietness about him that unnerved her, and something about his appearance made her suspect he had been that cold hand reaching for her in the misty room.

It didn’t help that she was still trapped in some bizarre, haunted house, or that the frightening boy who had called her Miss Runa refused to leave her side for even a moment. One of his hands was eternally, solidly gripping her left shoulder. After he had caught her, he escorted her into a large chamber where the mysterious white-haired man sat calmly in an armchair, apparently awaiting their arrival.

“I found her, Sylvain,” the boy said, a subtle hint of pride in his voice.

He rose to meet them as they approached. “Good work. Where is everyone else?”

“Scattered around. I think most of us were caught off guard. I didn’t realize she was running all over the place until I heard her screaming. Did the House tell you?”

He nodded.

Runa eyed both of them tentatively. “So...the House...uh...talks to you? It, um, actually told me that I should go—”

“It only talks to us,” the one behind her said darkly. That boy was terrifying.

His older brother patted him on the back. “Easy, Niko.”

As he spoke, a familiar face came stumbling in sleepily. Runa recognized him as the hyperactive one from the ball, Fiske. He had said something about eating children.

At the sight of Runa, he grew wide awake. “Hey, you! What are you doing here? You aren’t with Torin? Didn’t we put her in Torin’s room? Torin didn’t do anything weird, did he? Did he scare you?”

Runa felt her face burning. They had taken her to his room? How could they act as if such a thing were normal?

“I knew that would be a bad idea,” muttered Sylvain.

A growing sound drew their attention to the back of the room. Somewhere in the distance, someone was shouting. As it became clearer, Runa realized it was someone shouting her name.

Fiske started laughing. “Did you run away from Torin? Ha! I bet he’s going crazy right now. This was the best surprise ever.”

Torin ran in through the door, doubled over panting. His expression was a mix of worry, confusion, and desperation.

“Everyone! I—I know this may sound a little ridiculous, but I think Runa—I mean, the girl that I met—”

His eyes fell on Runa, standing between his brothers, and his face abandoned all expression except pure confusion.

“It really was you. You’re really here. But...but...why?”

“Happy Birthday!” exclaimed Fiske, running up to Torin and swinging an arm around his shoulders. “I know it’s belated, but we saw how much you liked her, so—” He motioned to Runa and smiled broadly.

A muscle in Torin’s jaw twitched. “You...you did what now?”

Sylvain cleared his throat awkwardly. “I did try to explain to them that you can’t simply take a person, but—”

“You did what now?!”

At this point, Casimir was strolling in.

“Oh, hey, you finally got her,” he said. “So, Torin, what do you think? Do—” He stopped short when he saw Torin’s face. “Oh, come on, I stayed up all night to help get that girl. You better not say you’ve changed your mind now.”

Torin had gone completely red at this point. The awkward half-open-half-closed movement of his mouth indicated that he was too embarrassed to replace any speakable words, though he desperately searched for them.

Runa, on the other hand, found herself swaying a little. Even with the firm grip of the young brother’s hand on her shoulder, it felt like the walls and ceiling had started to swirl.

Here...the Sons of Midnight...that smiling person...happy birthday...weird demon house...scary brothers...really scary brothers...got the girl...Torin...Torin...?

“Woah, careful there!”

Fiske’s arm shot out to catch Runa, who was swaying like a reed in a storm. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head. She was out cold.

Torin rushed over. “Runa! Runa! Fiske, what on earth did you do?”

“Calm down, silly. She’s just tired! She probably needs a little nap.”

“Just tired? Just tired? You guys must have knocked her unconscious all night, how the hell is she just tired?!”

“Hey! I think you’re being very ungrateful right now. To be honest, you’re hurting my feelings.”

While they were still arguing, Casimir gently tugged Runa away from Fiske and laid her down on the sofa. Niko came over to examine the girl, curiously poking her cheek with his finger.

“What’s wrong with her, Casimir?”

“Probably just scared or something. I don’t know. Girl stuff.”

“Oh.”

Her eyes fluttered open.

“Hey there,” said Casimir, waving a bit. “I’m Casimir. Nice to meet you.”

“Hi, I’m...where am I?” Runa peered behind him. Torin and Fiske were still arguing, except Sylvain had joined them as well by now.

“You’re at our house. We just call it the House. I guess our father wasn’t very creative with names. Wasn’t much of anything really, the bastard.”

“Why am I here, though?”

“Oh, you know, because Torin. He’s been wanting to see you. We all felt bad, watching him look so depressed all the time. You know, he’s had a rough life, and he doesn’t have anyone else but us. It’s the first time he’s been so excited about meeting someone else.”

“I see...but...may I go home now?”

“I’m afraid that can’t happen,” said Sylvain, entering their conversation suddenly.

Runa sat up quickly. “What do you mean?”

“He means you can’t go home,” said Niko, staring at her solemnly.

“But that’s insane. I can’t stay here. You...all of you are really weird and I just want to go home—” Runa glimpsed the sad expression on Torin’s face but went on regardless. “And...I have a life, and a job, and...important things. Important things like that.” After all this, the brothers remained unresponsive. Frustrated, Runa asked, “Why do you want me here anyway?”

“It’s not that we want you here. It’s just Torin.”

Torin punched Fiske in the gut as soon as the words left his mouth.

“That may have been the case initially,” Sylvain went on, “But now that you’ve come, now that you’ve seen the House, we cannot simply let you go. We can’t risk you speaking of what you’ve seen here.”

“Why would I tell anyone anything about you? I won’t, I promise. I’m not even quite sure where I am at the moment.”

“We won’t trust you so quickly,” said Niko.

Runa blinked.

Casimir whacked Niko behind the head. “Hey, didn’t we teach you anything about manners, you little rascal?”

“Do you trust her, Casimir?”

“Just shut up.”

“But you really can’t leave,” the scary boy mumbled, glaring at her—albeit more subtly—from behind his brother.

Runa felt defeated. At this point, all of the Sons of Midnight were standing around her, their tall figures looming over the sofa on which she sat. She looked up at each one slowly, taking in their strange appearances, weighing their mixed expressions, from excited to indifferent to skeptical, and finally landing on Torin, who hid from her gaze. His eyes wandered up to hers, filled with mortification, but somehow, behind them, something like hope. As soon as she had seen it, he looked away again.

“I’m sorry, Runa,” he said. “They aren’t joking. They won’t allow you to leave.”

“Hey, don’t blame this on us,” said Fiske. “This all happened because of you.”

“You—”

“Fine, fine,” Sylvain interrupted. “Let’s put an end to all this, why don’t we? We can argue about everything later. It’s practically lunch time by now, and I’m already irritated that I missed my breakfast.”

—

As soon as they entered the dining hall, Fiske dragged Runa to the seat beside his. He was excited to have a new guest at the table. Thanks to him, Runa’s ears were never bored.

“Then, I opened my wings and flew straight up into the air with the pudding and the cake! You should have seen their faces, they had no idea what was happening!”

“So they’re actually real, then?” Runa couldn’t help but ask. These were the first words she had spoken since they began eating. All the brothers turned to her expectantly. “All those things you can do...they weren’t my imagination?”

“Ah, you mean our little abnormalities?” said Sylvain.

“Is that what you call them?”

“We don’t usually call them anything,” said Casimir. “I can lull people to sleep, Sylvain can do a bunch of smoke tricks—”

"Tricks?”

“—Fiske has wings, and Niko can slow time.”

“...I see.” Runa looked at Torin. “And...Torin?”

She watched his face fall, his eyes shift to the ground.

“That’s, er,” Sylvain hesitated. “He...”

“It’s nothing worth mentioning,” Casimir interrupted drily, ruffling Torin’s hair a bit. “He’s the loser of the family.”

“Really? What does that—”

“So, what do normal people eat for lunch?” asked Fiske suddenly.

Runa blinked at the sudden change of subject. She had to think for a full ten seconds before answering. “Nothing, usually,” she admitted finally, feeling a bit embarrassed. “I’m too busy around lunchtime. I can only manage breakfast and dinner. Most of the time, anyway.”

“What, really?” exclaimed Fiske. “You’re not joking?”

“No.”

“That’s rough, kid,” said Casimir.

“Try the muffins,” said Fiske, shoving the basket in her direction. He seemed very concerned for her, and muffins were obviously the solution. “You can have as many muffins as you want now. Isn’t it great? Aren’t you glad you’re here? You can have lots of muffins, forever and ever!”

“Forever?”

“Fiske...” growled Torin.

“Well, you’re not even trying to make Runa happy, so stop getting mad at me!”

“Why are you already talking to her so casually? Runa, what’s your family name?”

Fiske frowned. “How come you can call her ‘Runa’ and I can’t?”

“I met her weeks ago!”

“You met her for five seconds!”

“It’s fine,” mumbled Runa. “I don’t have a surname, anyway.”

The entire table grew silent. Immediately, she regretted saying it. She should have just made up a name, like she usually did.

“I...I know it’s a little strange, but it’s normal for—for orphans, and—”

“No,” said Sylvain. “It’s because we don’t know our surname, either.”

“But I thought—you mentioned your father—”

“That he was useless?” said Casimir. “Yeah, that’s pretty much all we know about him.”

“And...your mother?”

No one answered this.

Sylvain said abruptly, “It’s time to drink now. Somebody take her away.”

Before she could process what was going on, Niko and Fiske were pulling her out of her chair. She didn’t even have time to protest as she was dragged away. Just before the doors closed behind her, she caught a glimpse of the silver goblets Sylvain had set out on the table. Through the tiny gap of the closing door, she caught a glimpse of the sorrow in their eyes.

All she could think was, what on earth have I gotten myself into?

She was pretty sure she didn’t want to replace out.

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~ A/N ~

Hmmmm....something smells fishy here, and I don’t think it’s the tuna. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see! Okay, Fun Question Time: Which of the Sons of Midnight interests you the most so far, and why?

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~ COMMENT OF THE WEEK ~