Archive of Our Own

“Come on, take a seat.”

The heavy footfalls of netherite boots echoed across the small, open room. With each step there was a slight chance that he would cause the wooden floorboards to groan under his weight in protest. His unblinking stare was hollow and especially blank as he took a seat on the cheap, grey sofa, settling down in a familiar spot that was beginning to dip with use.

As soon as his armored bottom hit the stiff cushions, it felt as if he were glued to them, completely frozen and stuck. The walls felt daunting, caving in on him until he could no longer feel or breathe.

The man seated across from him stared with calculating eyes that raked along the silhouette of his tense figure. Judging, and making assessments. It didn’t make Sharpness any less irritable, feeling his fingers threaten to curl in a fist as he was examined like an animal ready to be dissected. Sword, his therapist, was only two blocks away from him, sat on the same, unpleasant sofa. On the wooden arm rest there was a sign that had the words “calm person” written on them.

The words did nothing but bleed into his dignity as they taunted him from where they sat, and neither did it help manage his anger one bit.

Sword was the first to begin speaking. “Rough week?” he asked, the intent behind his words prodding at Sharpness’s fragile walls.

“Sure," came his blunt, clipped reply. He didn’t want to meet Sword’s patient eyes, yet. Instead he found the pattern of the spruce floors more interesting to look at than the therapist's eyes. He knew why he decided to book an appointment today, why he had also arrived even just three days ago. His visits have only begun to get more frequent as the month came to an end.

Pharolen, their half supervisor, half receptionist, momentarily interrupted their session to offer a hand out to Sharpness. He should've confiscated his weapons before they sat down, but better late than never, he mused. A sigh was heaved out as Sharpness placed his weapons into the expecting man's hands.

Though, once a heavy netherite sword and axe left his inventory, he chose to keep the smaller weapons to himself. A secret. It would've taken too long to give them up, and it would've been difficult to manage holding all of his blades at once. So if you were to ask him, then Sharpness would answer that he is only doing everyone a favor by breaking a rule or two.

Pharolen silently nodded in appreciation, stepping out of the open room and standing guard by a close wall nearby. He was close enough to interfere if anything were to get physical, but far enough to offer the two enough privacy, which Sharpness mentally thanked him for.

“This is the second session in the span of only one week, man. Talk to me, what’s going on?”

Sharpness gave himself time to think, chewing on his lip. “I don’t know. It still feels like I am on edge, like—“ He paused, weighing the words on his tongue, "like I am going to get super mad over something small, I guess."

He still hadn't made any eye contact with Sword. The nagging sensation of being closely watched bothered him. He could practically feel the concerned look that Sword kept shooting towards him, and he hated how he was concerned at all, that someone even managed to feel sorry for him.

Though despite having weapons hidden under his armor, there was a part of him that begged to throw punches with bare fists. Like a coward, he wanted nothing more than to punch the man until he could physically force him to despise him, present to him the ugly monster that thrived beneath his skin and beg him to hate him for what he was. But with Pharolen ready to prevent the carnage before it started, Sharpness stayed glued to the cushioned sofa, unwilling to misbehave or try something he'd regret.

“Listen to me,” Sword began, leaning closer. And it was then that Sharpness finally snapped cold eyes to the steady man. “Breathe with me now. In—" They both inhaled a breath, holding, “—out.” Then came two sighs.

For the next two minutes, Sharpness counted in his head, they continued the same simple breathing exercise. Breathing in with the same force, holding for the same amount of time, and letting it all go, together. Along with every exhale, the tension in his shoulders relaxed just a little bit more, the squeezing walls finally beginning to relent it's hold on his body. He felt more grounded and prepared to tackle whatever it was that was bothering him. By the time his shoulders had let up, it was evident that Sword looked less worried and more relieved.

“There’s a lad. D’you see how freeing that feels?”

"Yes."

“Now tell me, what is it that gets you so angry? What happened to cause you to come back again so soon?”

Quietly, he recalled the things that often made him feel upset. There were common reasons, such as getting into fights or falling for rage bait. Though knowng himself, he knew there was more to it than just that.

Definitely, the most likely reason had to do with the stupid, purple rabbit-guy that enjoyed humiliating him. It made his blood boil when he would fall into a trap specifically engineered by Jude, and hear the man laugh before he respawned. Matter of fact, the thought of the trapper made his teeth clench and heart do flips. Oh was he so ready to get his hands on him. It made Sharpness especially mad when Jude would flash a toothy grin just to distract him and get him killed—almost like he knew the gesture would mess him up and abuse the fact for the greater advantage.

Jude…

When it came to Jude, it felt like it was never fair play.

Perhaps that with every grudge he held, it further caused him to spiral into insanity and even lash out on others. Yes, it was no wonder why he was such a highly strung, agitated individual.

It was all Jude’s fault he was like this, and the answer hadn’t surprised Sharpness one bit.

“Well,” he began, “I wanted to go to Jude’s base to get some xp, but he wouldn’t let me in because I had one wither skull in my inventory."

He felt his eyebrows knit together tightly, almost scowling.

"Just one! I didn't even know it was there.”

Recalling the event, Sharpness sank down into the scratchy cushion of the sofa with crossed arms, further wedging himself into the right corner with murderous intent swirling in his eyes. It took lots of power to will himself to not pout. He spoke with an intensity that contrasted with how he was when he initially walked into Sword's base. For one second, Sword shared a look with Pharolen that he couldn’t understand, one face with knowing eyes and the other with a tired smile.

“Let’s not raise our voices here,” Sword calmly voiced.

“I just don’t get why he can’t trust me. I’m not trying to hurt him or anything, it’s his fault that he’s such a prick.”

Sword nodded along as Sharpness continued to vent out his frustrations. He then reached over to write something on the sign by Sharpness—which, he couldn't see what was being written, but he knew more than he saw that the sign now said “Even More-Angry Person” with a big arrow that pointed to Sharpness.

“So from my understanding, Jude is the one who has been bothering you again. Is that correct?”

“Yes."

“Okay, and it seems like that's what's causing you to be so angry all the time…" He trailed off, thinking. "Anything else out of the ordinary?"

"No."

Sword nodded, and if he had brought a clipboard and pen, then Sharpness knew he would be furiously writing down a note. It only made him frown harder, leaning down to rest his chin on his hand. But instead of taking notes, the therapist stayed sitting up straight, looking at Sharpness with careful observation and understanding.

"Okay, so things may need to change. And—" Sword interrupted Sharpness before he could attempt to object, "I know you don't like change, but hear me out."

His whole body stilled.

"What."

Sword let out a soft sigh. "Relax. Maybe it'll just be better if you'd stop running into Jude altogether, you know, if he's causing you to lose control of your temper." Sharpness looked away again, back to the floor, at the same spot since the start of their session. "Or at least just make a move to voice your frustrations out onto him. Talk."

Defeated, Sharpness fell back into the sofa, muttering a punched out "fine." as he let his arms fall to his sides. Sword did kind of have a point. If he was so bothered by Jude, then why see him at all?

"There we go." The man across from him reached for sign beside Sharpness, and erased the top half of the writing. He assumed that as Sword wrote new words, the sign must say "Calmer Person" with an arrow still pointing to Sharpness. It was a given reward for making progress.

But of course, some things still needed to be asked.

"And do you promise that you'll actually try?"

"…I promise."

"Alright, good."

And for the first time since Sharpness walked in, Sword genuinely smiled at him. "Okay then. Remember the goal we set since our first session here: No more holding grudges, no more outbursts on undeserving people."

"Yep, okay."

"And lastly, have you been trying out any of the methods that I recommend?"

Sharpness nodded, pulling out a small journal that he's only really used maybe once or twice, but still carried with him everywhere. He lifted it up in his hands, showing the item to Sword, who smiled proudly with tears nearly forming in his eyes—almost like a proud father rather than an uncertified therapist. In turn, it made Sharpness smile, blushing softly in a mix of embarrassment and shyness.

Grinning brightly now, Sword changed the letters on the sign until it spelled "Trustworthy Person", which was his cue to go as it marked the end of their appointment. Standing up to leave, Sharpness gave Sword an easy smile, before Pharolen handed him his sword and axe.

"Thank you for choosing to talk. And please, I don't want to see you for another two weeks," Sharpness heard from behind him as he stepped down into the general base. He felt much lighter than how he was only fifteen minutes ago. Everything was quiet again, like the aftermath of calm waves following strong torrents of water.

Pharolen clapped his armored back as he guided him to the exit, comfortably walking beside him and matching his steps. It felt good to talk to someone who would listen and never judge, but the given solution to his problem seemed too good to be true. He couldn't find an explanation as to why a pit formed at the bottom of his stomach at the thought of having to talk to Jude about their dynamic. It made him realize that he didn't have any reason to get in his way either, and it should be easy to cut ties with the rabbit.

But like all things in life, it was never going to be simple.

Fresh air hit his nostrils once Sharpness exited Sword's base, which happened to be constructed inside a mountain. He squinted his eyes against the sun's blinding rays as it began its journey to set below the horizon, and every beam of warmth was still greatly appreciated and accepted by the pale skin of his face. Blades of grass and leaves danced under the golden light. It made Sharpness want to feel like he was apart of nature as well, soaking in the sun and moving as he pleased. The beautiful world that nature brought hadn't eased the storm inside his head, though. Not one bit.

"Hey, Sharpness?" Pharolen asked, as if sensing his apprehensiveness.

"Hm?"

"For your own good, you should try listening to Sword's advice." Pharolen patted his back before letting go, preparing to go off on his own. "Or not, but you shouldn't be coming back until it's mandatory."

He didn't offer a reply. Instead, he looked at Pharolen with eyes that screamed Thank you, but please, shut up, and the man only smirked at him and waved goodbye.

It wasn't really that bad, he told himself. It was a cloudy afternoon two days since his therapy session with Sword and Pharolen, and the temperature outside was pleasant and enjoyable. Rushing waves echoed into the distance as he laid propped on the stone shore with legs stretched and crossed neatly. They drove against the cliff of rocks, splashing sea water into the air, before sizzling back in retreat.

How delightful it was; the sound of his quill scratching against paper as he doodled in his journal, absentmindedly chewing on his lips and cheek in concentration. He gazed at his work proudly with the feeling of reward and entertainment filling his senses.

Miles out from spawn, a long distance from the general mass of people, Sharpness felt safe enough to sit back and relax for once. He was far enough to assume that he was the first person to ever reach this area, considering how there were still chunks of untouched coal embedded in the stone rocks. Though, he hadn't done anything about the coal, instead choosing to leave it be as he faced the vast ocean.

Dipping the quill into ink, Sharpness continued to draw hard, uneven lines, and he wondered why he hadn't thought to spend his downtime like this before, allowing the ocean to wash away all of his worries as he peacefully let his body rest against cool rocks. Perhaps it was the therapy that was doing him much more good than he initially thought.

Avoiding Jude wasn't nearly as bad as he expected it to be either. Although, it had only been the first forty three hours, so his judgment didn't feel any credible. The general idea was to avoid spawn because spawn was basically Jude's domain. And, of course, he still had to visit the area for various reasons, but it wasn't too difficult to simply walk the opposite direction when he caught glimpse of lapis-trimmed armor and purple rabbit ears that stuck out of a helmet.

He tried to ignore the fact that it was hard to peel his eyes away from the man. It was like separating two magnets from each other as Sharpness had to remind himself to stay away from Jude, all the while hearing Sword's voice echo in his head and feel the words bounce around the walls of his empty skull. Sharpness wanted so badly to go and bother him until he had to forcefully tell him to go fuck off. But at the end of the day, they were enemies, and enemies didn't get along with each other.

It wouldn't have worked out even if he wanted it to anyways. Something would always get in the way, and they would ultimately be at each other's throats for blood.

Sharpness brought the tip of the quill to the top right corner of the small page, drawing a circle that didn't connect. It made him frown. He then drew lines that framed the circle's perimeter, supposedly representing beams of sunlight, before illustrating round clouds that isolated the sun from the rest of the drawing. It was a depiction of the cloudy sky that stretched beyond above his head, wrapping the world in a blanket of fluffy white amongst specks of blue.

He liked how slow life felt at the stony shores. It was almost enough to where he could get used to it. It didn't matter how much time had passed, or what tomorrow would look like, or maybe even what the next hour would look like. He no longer needed to rush everything, instead taking the time to appreciate the smaller things that made up the overworld; such as the wild animals that wandered in the distance, or the trees that filtered the crisp air. Everything began to feel less like a constant war and more like a slice of life he could enjoy. It wasn't that bad, he repeated to himself.

Adjusting his position, Sharpness began humming a tune to himself, mixing with the sound of ocean waves crashing against rock and shore. The tune he hummed was one that he remembered hearing a long time ago, a familiar one, but he couldn't place where he had heard it from.

There was a curved line that represented the large rock he lay on, traveling from one end of the page to another. Towards the bottom of the page, Sharpness let his quill drag down and up in a smooth U shape, repeating the pattern until it looked like the waves that crashed against the rocks. In the water, he attempted to draw fish. But the tension in his brows only intensified as he realized he didn't know how to illustrate each species differently. Every fish looked the same in the end, and he tried to ignore the way it bothered him.

A breeze of air pushed his blond bangs into his face, and he grumbled as he tucked hair behind both of his ears.

He tried hard to not think of Jude—anything, anything else would've been acceptable. He shouldn't think of him at all. It only managed to make him feel worse, like he was missing something. He instead chose to focus on sketching the coal he saw earlier, scribbling circles and coloring them in until he could recognize the shapes it resembled.

His constant stream of thoughts about a certain man began to make him glare at nothing in particular. He attempted to concentrate on his drawing, but all of a sudden, none of it felt as enjoyable anymore. His mood only soured further when he pictured what it would look like if Jude were sitting beside him, and it made Sharpness feel weird and funny inside with the knowledge that Jude thoroughly enjoyed spending time with the ocean.

It had been a cold, January morning when they'd both been out fucking around and messing with other people for the heck of it—causing chaos and raining hell on others. Jude's easy laughter filled the air and let it escape from his mouth so carelessly when Sharpness mentioned how he still felt chilly even with the bulk of his armor and clothing. There was no punchline or hidden joke beneath his thoughtless comment, but the rabbit had found it funny anyway. Sharpness couldn't piece together why he always smiled and giggled at everything he said and did.

And Sharpness was only just a man, so he found himself talking more than he usually did—but only around Jude, for him. It was like a reward to hear the other giggle or respond to his comment in exchange for being different or out of character. And, he found that he didn't really mind, so he continued for as long as they were still teammates.

They talked about anything and everything as they walked the snowy plains together. There weren't any animals around, many of which were hibernating or parading about elsewhere. Soft snow crunched beneath their leather boots as they walked at a turtle's pace. There was a slight, freezing fog in the air, making things difficult to see from a distance. It made their walk feel almost private or secretive. Just the two of them, away from prying eyes, with only the rest of the world ahead of them.

Clouds shielded the entire sky in white, hiding the sun away for many weeks to come. They had no where to be or anywhere to hurry—just simply with one another, almost like friends.

The topic eventually shifted to the weather. Then, to the seasons. Jude complained about how much he despised winter, his warm breath coming out in visible puffs. "It's just—winter is kinda depressing if you ask me. Everything is just too grey and cold. Which, I don't ever get cold, but everyone else looks miserable when they are," and Sharpness hummed along, listening, repeating the words over and over in his head until he could safely tuck it away in the deepest corner of his memory.

"I don't really care that much, I guess. I probably just don't pay attention to the weather enough to think about it," to which Jude immediately shot him a perplexed look. "You're kidding. You don't even go outside during a nice, summer day, and think 'yeah I want to go to the beach.'"

Sharpness let out a snort. "No? When have you even ever seen me in swimming shorts and flip flops?" And Jude couldn't contain his laughter. It wasn't like he ever did, but Sharpness remembered scoffing and lightly shoving the man by his shoulder, turning his face away to hide the way his cheeks suddenly felt warmer and lips tick up in a smile.

Through his breathless giggles, Jude shouted "Hey!", before returning the favor and pushing Sharpness even harder, leaving more boot prints on the thin layer of snow as he regained balance. Jude then rambled on about how funny it would be to see Sharpness in swimming trunks, or a bikini, tanning out in the sun. He didn't understand why the rabbit liked summer so much or why it had to be warm outside to go to the beach. Why not just visit even when it's cold?

Jude muttered something about how he promised to prove to him why going to the beach was an amazing activity and he should try visiting in the summer, putting some color on his pale skin and maybe even wearing something didn't cover his body from neck to toe.

It was what things could've looked like if they had just turned out differently. In a couple months from now, he could've been at the sandy beach with Jude, basking in the sun and doing whatever it is that teammates do.

He sat up and groaned with how quickly he wanted to leave.

The air suddenly smelled too salty and fishy, and his armor and clothing started to feel too tight and wrong. The rock he propped himself against suddenly made his back ache and scream at him to find a better place to rest. The breeze was beginning to bother him as it kept blowing his hair all over his face, and by then his only thoughts were filled with how he was done with lazing by the shore.

I'm angry, he admitted to himself. When did his face begin to feel so hot and jaw tense harder?

The anger should eventually pass. He tried breathing slowly, just as he was instructed, counting each breath that came in and out, savoring each one. But he hated that it didn't help one bit. He was distracted, horribly so, and it did him no good. He attempted to think of Sword, or Pharolen, and the uncomfortable sofa in the barren wooden room, but he was out of luck.

Sharpness flipped the red ribbon built into the journal on the page he would be leaving off on, analyzing his drawing with contempt. It looked like something made by a child, and the thought of that made him want to rip the page out and let it wash away with the sea. Childish. All of a sudden, he felt damn near childish. It wasn't anything crazy, either, nothing more than an illustration of himself five minutes ago. He closed the journal with more force than needed, snapping the band that held the book together with sudden irritation, before capping off the container of ink and putting everything away along with the quill.

What was once a calm afternoon became an insult to the world as Sharpness got up to leave. He practically stomped his way up the rocks, getting unnecessarily angry over a small pebble that got in his way, and choosing to pick it up and throw it off into the distance behind him. He didn't look to see where it had gone, but he heard the sound of it plunging into the water and vanishing off into the waves. His pace hurried as he suddenly had the violent urge to vomit.

Jude and his stupid, stupid ears that stuck out like a sore thumb, who happened to ruin every minute of his day by doing nothing at all.

Crossing his arms, he stomped on grass and flowers as he mindlessly wandered the broad plains, away from the ocean. He could no longer bare to hear the sounds of waves and wind, or have the smell of sea salt fill his nostrils, and feel the unpleasant humidity stick beneath his clothing.

He tried to think of anyone—anything else as he let his feet take him far, far away from the deep ocean, scowling at nothing specific and for no reason at all. Poor Sharpness, what do you do when your traitorous mind won't stop reverting back to Jude?

Steadying his hands, Sharpness let his breath go still. His gloved palms flexed against it's hold on the grip of a bow, and his dominant hand loaded an arrow into the rest, slotting it in place before pulling back with the tips of his pointer and middle fingers holding the string. At the same time, he raised the loaded bow into position, letting the arrow rest centimeters away from the corner of his lips. He felt his back muscles strain against the slight pressure as he calculated the trajectory between him and his target.

His breaths came out faint but strained, and the woods around him quieted in anticipation. The only sounds that were left had been blocked by the permanent ringing in his ears, intensified by his concentration to one focal point. For a moment, the only living thing that dared to move was the pale leaves swaying gently from birch trees, casting moving shadows across the forest.

Relaxing his hold, Sharpness allowed his nimble fingers go to limp, and the arrow was immediately shot at the target with high speed. The string of the bow bounced back and fourth for just a moment, before relaxing into its original state.

His focus was then able to return to the rest of the world as he no longer needed to concentrate on the center of the furthest target. He let his arms fall by his sides, rolling his shooting shoulder, already preparing to grab his next arrow from the holster wrapped around his thigh. By then, nature had resumed its steady pace, no longer bothered or threatened by his presence.

Abruptly, Sharpness felt his nose twitch, and he let out a sneeze. The loud noise had accidentally caused the chicken a few blocks from him to bolt away. Spring was beginning to gradually shift to summer, yet he was still being actively affected by the pollen wafting in the atmosphere, the air tickling his nose as he breathed.

He couldn't bare to imagine how it would feel for those with much more sensitive noses.

The arrow he shot had landed on the red ring of the target. Sharpness chewed his lip as a familiar something washed over him. It wasn't disappointment he felt, but nor was it close to pride—there was always some room for improvement, to be better. In a given life or death situation, even missing an emergency shot by centimeters could cost him a strength; he knew it all through experiences and mistakes.

Another arrow was slotted into the arrow rest, his fingers trembled barely as he fiddled and adjusted its position until it lined up to be as straight as possible.

It had been five days since his last therapy session with Sword, approximately 122 hours since he decided to make an effort to avoid Jude. He was doing fine. He managed his temper just fine, and he was getting by just fine… albeit, life was beginning to feel somewhat boring. Sharpness was extremely bored out of his mind, so out of it that he willingly chose to go to the archery range to practice his bow and arrow skills, despite his preferred weapon of choice being a sword.

So he really did not have much reason to be out at the range to practice using a bow.

Repeating the same motions as before, he kept his feet pointed away from the target, drawing the arrow backwards, while locking both of his keen eyes on the yellow of the target. Tree leaves periodically fell in slow motion, falling into a hapless pile in the grass, but his heart rate was anything but slow. His pulse thrashed and thrummed at a jackrabbit's speed despite his exterior being cold and intimidating. This time, Sharpness chose not to hesitate with his shot, instead allowing the arrow to be released almost immediately.

Of course, the arrow landed on the outer edge of the red ring with a loud, deafening, thwack—having been absolutely no where near the yellow center. Sharpness heaved out a heavy sigh in defeat. There was a reason why he preferred close-range combat over long distances, and it had to do with his major lack of patience.

He gritted something out from under his breath, the words half-assed and incomprehensible even to himself. His hands showed signs of impatience as they yanked the last arrow out of his holster and loaded it into the wooden bow. The placement was sloppy and the arrow pointed at an awkward angle, but he didn't pay it any mind as he drew the bow back. The string stretched with too much tension and force, nearly dragging the wooden nooks along with it.

The sound of a stick snapping echoed out, and Sharpness felt his heart instantly sink to his stomach. His body froze, still holding the bow and arrow up, ready to shoot at the furthest target in the range.

Time suddenly slowed, and all of his senses immediately honed into the sound that reverberated through the woods; calculating the distance of where it came from and what could've caused it, precisely measuring the amount of time he had to react. Everything moved in a blur when he turned around and aimed in the direction where he thought he heard the snap, instinctively letting go of the arrow.

Thunk.

A loud yelp sounded out throughout the forest. The thumping of his heart beat was all he felt as time fell back into its normal pace, the moment having passed by within milliseconds. The ringing in his ears hadn't faltered as his eyes focused on the sight before him. His lungs rose and fell, expanding his chest with each breath, and at a rhythm far too quick to be considered normal.

The arrow had landed into the white bark of a birch tree. Mere inches beside it, a pair of wide, brown eyes stared back at him, belonging to none other than Luigi. They had both been extremely lucky that not only had the arrow been loaded inaccurately, but Sharpness made a bad marksman; especially at odd angles like that of which he stood. His feet were crossed, his posture was off, and he had acted purely on impulse.

He felt his eye twitch and he made a dramatic show of sighing through his nostrils.

There was a sudden urge that he needed to leave, that he had to go—straight away. Sharpness unequipped his bow and turned to step over the short fence, heading for the targets to retrieve his arrows. His long legs forced quick strides across the grassy field in a hurried manner. As if sensing the irritation that radiated off of him in waves, it seemed as if all life chose to steer clear of his path. Animals were reluctant to get in his way and plants cowered from his harsh steps.

Luigi cautiously treaded to the range, purposefully making every step loud and clear. He stopped behind the fence that marked where to shoot, fidgeting with his own, much more high quality set of bow and arrows. He had a concerned look to his face but Sharpness chose to ignore him in favor of plucking his arrows out of the wool targets. He felt his eyes trail him as he stomped across the range, and it only made his blood boil hotter. His cheeks began to burn with a mix of shame and embarrassment; both for their awkward interaction and at the evidence of his bad aim lingering on every target.

Luigi attempted to ease the thick, metaphorical pressure in the air. "Hey, I'm sorry about th—"

Sharpness cut him off with an annoyed click of his tongue. "Don't fucking scare me like that," he mumbled, yanking out another arrow with too much force.

"Right, my bad…" Luigi responded, sheepishly.

He loaded an arrow into his bow, raising it to aim at a closer target as Sharpness was in the way of the farther ones. Sharp felt his nose twitch, and as soon as he let out a sneeze, Luigi happened to release his arrow. It made him physically jump out of his skin, and the man with the thick mustache paled as Sharpness snapped his head to stare daggers into him. The timing was, indeed, very poor.

Sharpness stomped up to the twenty meter target and yanked out the arrow that Luigi shot, putting it in his own holster while making fierce eye contact. The arrow had been ripped out with much more fury compared to his own few, and it didn't help that the arrow landed in the dead, yellow center of the target. A perfect bullseye upon first try.

Sharpness's point was made clear when Luigi raised his hands up in the air. He looked at Sharpness with an emotion that he couldn't read, but he didn't have time to dissect everything his face explicitly said. So instead, he turned to a random direction in the forest, and hurried out of the archery range.

He chose to mutter a punched out "bye" as the more rational part of him managed to feel sorry for their interaction. He didn't look back to see if Luigi had heard him, or if he waved back, or acknowledged him at all for that matter, but Sharpness continued to mindlessly wander the birch forest as he ran away from everything that had happened just then.

An annoyed breath escaped his lips as he continued. His face hurt from scowling all day and his lips were practically torn to shreds, but what had done the most hurt was the damage to his his bruised ego. Sharpness, known for being a dangerous man, caught throwing a fit at the archery range and having bad aim. He attempted to piece his thoughts together, calming himself down until he could even think properly, but it was no use as he stormed his way through the forest.

Pale, birch trees soon faded into brown, and the grass beneath his boots turned more vibrant and saturated. Apples, twigs, and the occasional sapling littered the ground, and his face contorted into a grimace when he'd accidentally stepped on a rotten apple. The sound was, in short, disgusting. It squelched in such a repulsive manner and the juices jumped to cling to the bottom of his boots.

The damned apple was his last straw.

A full body shudder wracked through him, and Sharpness let his back fall against a tree, no longer able to withstand his own weight. Anger and embarrassment and all sorts of different, complex emotions washed over him in waves as he hid his face in his hands like a coward. He felt himself hit the ground, presumably from slumping down the tree, and he had only sat there, pretending the world didn't exist as he tried to fight the onslaught of emotions that attacked his vulnerable heart.

He hadn't cried a single tear. Nor had he yelled, thrashed, or did anything for that matter. Sharpness just sat there with his knees tucked into his chest and his face hidden in the safety of gloved palms.

And despite having every inch of his body covered in armor, he still felt raw and exposed. He suddenly wanted to loosen the ribbon that kept his blond locks tied in a neat bun and let his long hair curtain him away from the world. But the issue was that he could no longer feel his own skin, so he had no choice but to leave his hair up. The brightness of the sun was overbearing, the smell of apples and flowers made him nauseous, and the soft noises that came from animals made his head hurt. How could it be, that what was once something he admired and appreciated, turn into the very thing that currently fuel the raging fire inside of him?

Sharpness tried to piece together the normal pattern of his life from only a few days ago. He was constantly on edge, yes, but not like this. Not on the forest floor, slumped by an oak tree, struggling to breathe with his face in his hands.

He willed himself to try and think of the things that made him happy. He liked sparring, and it didn't matter if it were with bare fists or a sword. It was like he was born to be a fighter and that was why he liked it a lot. Yes, sparring made him happy. He enjoyed petting the stray cats that lived at the villages. Every time he'd come and visit one, they would meow happily with their tails up, unafraid of him. Cats made him feel happy, and he adored them in turn.

His train of thought about cats led him to Jude's cape, the one with the blinking, grey cat that Sharpness couldn't ever take his eyes off of. There was something about that cat specifically that drew him in like a vacuum, but he didn't know what it could be. At least, he didn't know yet.

And just like that, his every thought was consumed with Jude. Moments, memories, and all the things they shared. He no longer cared for the fact that they were rivals who still had loads of unfinished business between them. Words continued to go unsaid, and it became harder to evade the looks they gave each other. But Sharpness couldn't help himself, and this arrangement, he decided, was in fact, not fine at all. It was bad, and it was horrible when he realized that he couldn't manage less than a week without seeing Jude, and he didn't know what to do about the newly discovered information.

It was like he was stuck in the trapper's orbit. In no such universe could he ever escape, and he'd always be revolving around Jude—like Jude was the sun, a bright, shining star, and Sharpness was nothing more than a measly planet, stuck gravitating towards him in between balancing his own inertia.

His heart began to palpate over the admission that he'd rather be angry bickering with Jude than to be angry at himself and the world. He attempted to feel convinced that the rapid racing of his heart came from stress, rather than thinking about a certain someone.

If only, he thought to himself. If only things could change between them, or if only things turned out differently—what he would give for them to become friends, or even teammates again.

They could be at the beach together. He didn't know what friends did at the beach, or what anyone did for that matter, but he'd let Jude do whatever he wanted so as long as it was just them. He wouldn't mind shredding his armor or gear. He wouldn't mind watching turtles and allowing the sun to bake him to a crisp if it meant that Jude was happy. If only…

Those two words repeated over and over in his head like a mantra until Sharpness could feel the tightness in his chest relent. The numbness in his body tingled away slowly, replacing the previous feeling with a new sensation of control but sensitivity. He let his hands gradually slide down his face, propping his elbows on his knees and resting his chin on his palms. His eyes blinked and adjusted to the light of the world after being shut in his hands for so long. Or at least, it had felt like hours to him, but the traitorous sun hadn't moved much since he'd last spied on it.

He felt dry and painfully hollow, but a part of him had a goal in mind, and he wasn't known for being a quitter.

Grunting, Sharpness forced his body up to lean against the tree. He pulled out his communicator and nervously fidgeted with the device indecisively. He flicked through different channels, seeing a bunch of slop and random messages said by others, but ultimately deciding to man-up and get the job done.

You whisper to JudeLow: -4050, 68, 2800

You whisper to JudeLow: arrive in the evening and dont come armed

Sharpness's palms were sweaty as he hit enter. He couldn't tear his eyes away from his communicator, not until he received a message back. He let himself melt into the tree holding his weight as he patiently waited while holding his breath.

JudeLow whispers to you: ?

JudeLow whispers to you: far but okay

A sigh escaped his lips in relief. He didn't know what it was that he was relieved about, but it wasn't like he could deny the feeling either. It was still far too early until dawn, having a little over a couple hours until then, so Sharpness took his time as he pocketed his communicator. His body regained a new sense of strength as he pushed himself off the oak tree and onto his own two feet. Sharpness realized that he was only a few hundred blocks away from the given location, so he didn't need to rush or hurry.

He allowed himself to walk as slowly as he needed. One step at a time, a foot in front of the other, and eventually one block after the next. He felt tired, and guilty, in a way where he had let someone down, but it didn't make a difference to him as everyday, he was presented with some new shit to deal with.

The sun coming into view of his face made his eyes squint against the blinding rays of light. He followed it's path, westward, his feet slowly taking himself closer to where he now knew he belonged. The sun was the bane of every being's existence in the overworld and Sharpness was no exception as he chased after the unreachable star. Pale skin welcomed the spring air as he wandered through the forest, the sound of leaf litter crunching beneath his boots, and the occasional bee buzzing around flowers. They lingered for a long time doing nothing but glutting themselves on heaps of pollen.

His eyes traced the outline of trees and hills from a distance, silently wishing that he could capture the very details that made it appear so ethereal.

He continued dragging himself along.

Left foot out, right foot in front. It slowly became more bearable and easier to manage, evident in the way he gradually began to walk at a normal pace.

And he felt it before he knew it, the feeling of the temperature dropping as he got closer to his destination. The sound of sweet, soft waves echoed out into the distance, capturing his attention in a way that it never did before. Trees became more sparse as grass transitioned into stone, and this time around, he was no longer afraid to welcome the shore. His boots began to click instead of quietly crunch, and he found himself overlooking the same, cold ocean as he had three days ago.

Waves shone with gold flecks under the sun, which only got stronger as the star slowly, slowly began reaching for the horizon. It made him understand just why people used to worship the sun way long ago. It brought life and beauty into such an imperfect world, without having ever realized the impact of its existence.

Sharpness sat down at the same spot, allowing his back to rest against the same chunk of stone. He decided to mark it as his new favorite spot, even if it would destroy his back in the long run, or make his stomach churn unpleasantly with the smell of fish and seaweed. He took out his journal and laid out his ink and quill, when it almost began to feel nostalgic. He flipped one page, skipped the other, and stopped at where the red ribbon was left. His writing hand pushed the ribbon away and the hand holding the cover tucked it gently between fingers and soft, polished leather.

Unscrewing the cap to the container of ink, Sharpness picked up the quill and dipped the fine tip of it into the dark liquid.

But before he could begin where he had left off on, Sharpness heard the sound of firework rockets sounding throughout the air just east of where he sat, which was really just behind him. They grew louder, and louder, and he was suddenly at a loss of what to do.

He didn't have a clock on him, but it felt far too early for Jude to arrive. The sun was still high in the sky, too much to be considered dawn, and yet the rabbit decided to come. It was surprising to Sharpness that he agreed to meet up at all—let alone show up early. His palms felt moist and he internally panicked because, in this situation, what do you even do? He hadn't thought of what to say or how to approach Jude. At least, not with their weird dynamic, or after avoiding him on purpose for days.

Towards his left, he heard Jude land behind him, before careful, intentional steps came closer. Sharpness turned his head and his breath hitched at the sight of the rabbit. He couldn't understand why he was being overly dramatic or what it was that made him feel so weird inside just seeing or thinking about Jude, but he chose to suppress the feeling as best as he could.

"Hi," Sharpness spoke.

Jude stopped beside him, and he towered over Sharp's sitting form. It made him feel uncharacteristically small despite being the taller one between them.

He raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. "You wanted to see me?"

Sharpness looked away shyly, but he tried to make it seem like he was in thought. "Yeah, I guess." He looked up at Jude expectantly, "Come, sit. I just want to talk."

Sighing, Jude climbed down to Sharpness's level, and sat down beside him on his left. They weren't close, but they also weren't far. He would simply just have to take what he could get. They both tried not to look at one another, and it wasn't that hard when their surroundings were insanely breathtaking, but it did little to ease the tension in the air.

And, like always, Jude was the first to talk.

"What's that?" He asked.

Sharpness looked at him, and then to his eyes, where they were looking at the journal in his lap. He felt quite embarrassed about the contents of it but there was no use in hiding from him.

"It's a drawing I made when I was bored."

"Yeah, I can tell. It kinda looks like those drawings that you'd see kids make."

"…I know."

He pursed his lips, looking at his own creation. It was painfully dumb and almost vulnerable of him to let someone see what was hidden inside his journal, like a school girl hiding a diary from her secret crush.

"Sword and Mori made me carry it around. It kinda helps if I'm being honest."

Jude perked up at that. "Oh yeah, I heard about your anger management lessons or whatever it is—word travels fast. How's it going?"

The dry small talk made him cringe.

"Good—but also not really. Some things help and some things don't."

The other man hummed, before looking away. "Well, it's good to see that you're working on yourself," he said, quietly.

"Yeah."

Sharpness knew just how much those words implied. He twirled around the quill on his finger tips, watching the pattern of the feather whirl and spin. He then dipped it in ink again, before beginning to draw something.

But Jude's words made his hand still for a moment.

"Sharp, be honest with me, why am I really here? Why do you avoid me for days and then randomly ask to meet up in the middle of bumfuck nowhere?"

Huh. How obvious had be been?

"I just—" he didn't know what to say or how to say it, especially after being called out. He just needed to see Jude, in the same way life needed to see the sun. "I don't know. I can't really talk about it but I… wanted to see you? I guess."

A scoff was let out beside him, but it held no real venom. It was almost disbelieving in a fond way.

"So you just—missed me?"

Jude's crinkling eyes gave away the grin he had on his face, and Sharpness wanted to groan.

"No, but whatever makes you sleep better," he muttered.

Sharpness resumed drawing. He re-dipped the quill in ink, and continued allowing it to run over the surface of the paper. He decided that this was another one of Jude's traps, and he fell straight through without any thought. He tried to focus but it was rather difficult with the trapper sitting beside him.

He hadn't noticed when, but the tension that was once thick enough to slice with a sword soon melted into their easy silence. The ocean did most of the talking for them anyways, and the sun cast warm beams of sunshine that warmed the coldness between them.

"Why'd you make my ear so big…" Jude randomly pointed out.

And Sharpness couldn't contain his giggle, and it caused his hand to jerk and accidentally draw a line where it shouldn't be. "Dude, I did not mean to do that—ha!—I swear it's because I'm bad at art…" He trailed off, laughing at the absurdity of the "ear" that he drew.

Sharpness attempted to draw the other one, but it couldn't fit on Jude's head because the first one was way off. It made Jude laugh, and Sharpness was filled with more emotions that he didn't know how to label. He was entirely done with emotions for a whole month, he thought to himself as he set down the quill with shaky hands.

"Sharp!" Cried Jude, and in turn Sharpness pretended to beg for his mercy as he smiled with all of his teeth.

And as the sun began to properly set, the waves reflecting gold and the sky turning yellow, Sharpness decided that he wouldn't have it any other way. Him and Jude, sitting at the stony shores and watching the sun set below the sea, allowing their easy banter to flow endlessly. It was as if things had slotted back into place. Jude hadn't commented on Sharpness's tired eyes, raw lips, or newfound avoidant tendency, and Sharpness didn't question why Jude paid enough attention to realize that he was being avoided. And when the man beside him threw his head back in a laugh, body shaking with every sound, his heart selfishly beat in tandem with the syllables of his name.

But at the moment, they weren't rivals, no, and everything that happened would be kept between them and the deep sea. They were on borrowed time and Sharpness didn't know how much he had left to treasure. He didn't know a thing at all, but he would figure it out, someday.

Sharpness thought about how he'd have to eventually come clean to Sword about how he broke the promise he made, but he was confident that he would be able to understand. He was almost able to picture it: him back at the room in the back corner of the base, made up of two grey sofas and spruce plank floors and walls, seeing Sword share a look with Pharolen as he sighed in defeat, disappointed about how he predicted it would come—because Sharpness was unfortunately helpless when it came to Jude, stuck gravitating towards him.

It would take time but he'd eventually learn how to tackle his own conflicting emotions and better understand them, while using his stability to rekindle old relationships.

Eventually.