Chapter Text
Ivan knows he’s fucked up— doesn’t think he can help it.
Things that should be exciting are just boring to him, but things that should be boring are rather fun. He finds pretty things rather hideous, and ugly things more beautiful than anything.
Maybe that’s why.
No one really likes Till, the silver-haired boy that yells at everything that moves. The ball of hellfire that spits and curses and screams and fights.
At first, Ivan doesn’t know what to think of they boy.
But after time, after his night on the roof, Ivan came to an eye opening realization— Till reminds him of space but, more specifically, comets; fast, furious, and burning from the inside out with explosive energy. The path before them is clear, their movements unrestricted, permission for ensuing chaos granted by the universe itself.
And yet sometimes.
That blazing path to victory isn’t enough.
They hit an atmosphere too tough for them and end up breaking apart, crumbling into a billion pieces without ever gaining a name, and no one to acknowledge their existence.
It’s sad, Ivan thinks, and he never thought he’d have to witness it in person.
A low gurgle reverberates through the metal hallway, giving the floor below his bear feet a mellow hum.
Ivan curls his toes against the sensation as he leans cautiously around the corner, setting his gaze on the creature responsible for the noise.
A large, one-eyed alien towers over two kids, silver hair and pink hair respectively, and lets out another nasty growl as saliva drips in puddles at its feet.
Ivan takes in the scene silently, eyes darting around as he observes. The room is draped in hanging vines and squishy moss and the red emergency lights cast the room in a soft crimson glow. The green plants turn orangey-purple in the light and a shiver races down Ivan’s spine.
Because none of it matters.
He dismisses it all in disinterest, eyes fixated on the head of silver hair bowed so closely to the ground his panting breaths leave steam patches on the metal ground.
Ivan knows.
Ivan has known for a long time now.
That the boy named Till is a force to be reckoned with; there is simply no such thing as putting chains around a star. They were created to shine, above all else, and shine they will.
Till has showcased this very attitude since the day the boy took his very first breath. There had never been a day where his abominable spirit faltered, never a day where the flame in his heart flickered in fear, despite being born for entertainment.
It was only momentary, a single blip in time— that was all the time they needed to figure out how to put a leash on this untamed beast.
In the days after Io disappeared, there appeared a crack in Till’s chaotic composure; a certain fissure that did not seem to be closing with time.
This crack was momentary. While momentary, it was also momentous.
Subdued, quiet, submissive.
Teary-eyed, confused, compliant.
Till had changed.
And while this change lasted maybe a month, it seemed it had been a month too long.
The aliens would not exploit this weakness until he was much, much older.
Ivan knows.
And now, many more entities know.
Till is invincible.
Until he loves someone.
Until he opens his heart just enough to let them in, to care for them.
As soon as he does this, he is no longer untouchable.
He loses. Everytime.
The moment Till’s forehead hits the ground, Mizi gasps and the alien before them cackles victoriously, slimy vocal cords visibly vibrating within its throat.
Ivan’s eyes widen and all of a sudden, all he can see is red.
Red, fiery hot meteors blasting through the sky, inevitably drawn into an orbit they cannot handle, dying as they concede to the heat of the very thing their journey led them to.
Watching Till, Ivan’s never felt anything as fiercely as what he’s feeling right now.
This all-consuming, damning, deafening, sickening, cruel, defeated feeling.
The feeling came with a sort of burning admiration, the feeling like molten lava is pouring out above his head and he’s made of paper. It has his feet frozen in place, lungs stuttering for air, fingers curled tight around the corner.
When he comes to, he’s face to face with the alien, leaning in close and placing a hand on its nose. He rests his cheek against the thick, bumpy skin and catches his face reflected in the alien's giant eye.
He takes a second to assess the emotions swimming through his eyes before decidedly closing his eyes with a small smile.
That feeling. . . the one from before. . . it had gone as quickly as it had come and yet something like embers remained, smoldering in his chest, making it hard to breath comfortably— he thinks he’s seen it somewhere before.
That emotion, printed like a perfect decalcomania, is not an uncommon one for Sua to be wearing when she is with Mizi.
Ivan’s smirk only grows as he begins to realize, as much as Sua pushes him away like he’s annoying, their feelings overlap in more areas than one.
Satisfied with this conclusion, Ivan pats the aliens nose and it opens it’s gnarly jaw in one jerkey movement. He steps inside in one fluid motion, gripping one decaying tooth and swinging in gracefully. He curls up comfortably on its tongue, sighing as he settles in.
He’s made quite a few observations today. But now he’s tired.
Ivan lets his eyes slide close, allowing the soft red afterglow to lull him deeper into his dreams.