Overthinking, Vanish and Wolf

When the feast finally rolled around, it felt like the wedding all over again.

They’d even arranged the tables to mimic the banquet hall: a single table for two at the “head,” and four long tables where the villagers sat. And for a village with a population of no more than two or three hundred, the turnout was impressive - almost ninety percent. Not as many guests as the wedding itself, but still far more than Joash ever wanted to see gathered in one place.

Thankfully, Foebe was beside him, holding his hand, and not a single worry managed to sink its teeth into him.

One of the villagers began an impromptu speech, and soon the speech train was making its rounds. But Joash wasn’t paying attention. Instead, his thoughts kept circling back to what Foebe had said as they’d sat down.

“I want more headpats tonight.”

What he couldn’t work out was what she meant by that.

Did she simply want headpats like the ones he’d given her that morning? Or did she mean something more? He couldn’t tell, and that scared him.

Of course, he was fine with either. He would do whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted. But once again, he found himself struggling to interpret her. She’d said that everything she did was out of love, sure, but that only explained the why, not the what.

Women, he decided, were complex creatures.

His mind drifted back to the stories he’d written. And suddenly, uncomfortably, it all became clear. He’d had no idea what a relationship was actually like. He’d turned it into a male fantasy.

But then again… wasn’t he currently living something close to a male fantasy?

Not quite, he decided. A perfect male fantasy wouldn’t have a love interest as - he searched for a better word, and failed to find one - cursed as Foebe had revealed herself to be.

His thoughts shifted again, as they always did, circling back to her.

She’d spoken about her parents earlier. Her mother had died when her father had died. Did that mean he and Foebe now shared a similar connection? If so… why? How?

He didn’t feel any different.

Unless the bond had been created when he’d awakened in the church. He still savored that feeling - the miracle of standing and walking as though he’d been doing it his whole life.

He shook his head, trying to focus.

She’d also mentioned that once the first night ritual was completed, only the two of them together could conceive a child - not with anyone else. Was that what created the bond?

His face heated at the thought.

But hadn’t they failed the first night ritual? Or was it simply the act itself that formed the connection?

And now he wanted answers. About the magic. About the system.

Had the anaruhi evolved to use something so fragile? Had they been created this way? What purpose did it serve, especially when their numbers dwindled so drastically?

Or maybe they simply hadn’t adapted to the changing morals of Earth. Perhaps new ways of thinking had reduced the likelihood of finding a partner who ticked all the boxes for the magic to work.

And that was when fear crept in.

What would happen to their children?

Would they slowly fade until the day of their wedding - only to possibly vanish before his eyes? Would he have to watch his children perish one by one, clinging to the hope that at least one of them might be lucky?

And what if the summoned partner became twisted by their new status, like Rinji had warned? He didn’t want a child coming to him in tears because they’d been neglected, hurt, or left heartbroken.

His free hand clenched.

The whole system was unfair.

No wonder Foebe loved him so easily. She’d been expecting something very different - and not in a good way.

And so, quietly, he made up his mind.

He would dedicate his life to three things: his wife, his children when they came, and magic.

He’d research magic until there was nothing left to dissect. And then he’d break whatever curse the anaruhi species had been placed under.

His children wouldn’t have to risk their lives just to continue the species. They could date and marry whoever they liked. Learn whatever they wanted. Be whoever they wanted to be.

He smiled, small and hidden.

He was proud of himself.

And he hoped Foebe would be proud of him too.

Foebe groaned as they closed the door to their room.

Night was in full swing, the feast having dragged on far too long. She still clung to Joash’s arm as she stumbled over to the bed and collapsed unceremoniously, taking him down with her. She grumbled into the sheets.

“They wouldn’t stop piling more food onto my plate…”

He chuckled, carefully avoiding mentioning that she’d eaten far more than he had. He put it down to her wolf-like nature.

“Me too.”

She sighed, twisting her head to look at him.

“I don’t even know what you were doing. Your face was blank half the time.”

He chuckled nervously.

“Yeah… I was… thinking.”

She grinned.

“Thinking about what?”

His cheeks colored slightly.

“Us… and our future.”

She smiled warmly.

“Don’t keep secrets from your wife.”

He smiled back.

“Fair enough. Alright.”

He cleared his throat.

“Foebe, from this day forward, my life is dedicated to three things. You, our kids, and magic.”

Her eyes widened.

“What?”

He kept going, not quite registering her surprise.

“I was thinking about how unfair everything is, and I decided that I don’t want that kind of future for our kids. So I want to try to break whatever curse your species is under.”

She sucked in a sharp breath.

“Oh, Joash…”

But he wasn’t finished.

“And then they can live happily, without facing the fear and loss your species has had for as long as the records go.”

His eyes hardened.

“Because I don’t want to watch our kids vanish before our eyes. Or come crying to us after their spouse hurts them.”

Her smile trembled as her eyes filled.

“Joash… I’m so glad you feel that way… but I honestly think you might be chasing something unachievable.”

His heart dropped.

“I am?”

She nodded sadly.

“You’re not the first to think like that. People have been trying to solve the issue for centuries. Before the Ra… the Event, direct studies were being done. But no one ever found an answer. I’m sorry.”

His chest ached.

“So we’re just… going to have to watch our kids die?”

A tear slipped sideways down her cheek.

“We’re not seen as people. You already know that. Our role is to give my species as many chances to exist as possible.”

She sniffed.

“If that means we have to watch a few of our darlings vanish, then that’s just… that’s just…”

He hadn’t meant to make her cry.

“I didn’t mean-”

She shook her head.

“No. You’re right. It’s not fair. It’s not fair at all.”

She finally released his arm and opened hers. He leaned in immediately, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close until their bodies pressed together.

But he wasn’t thinking about the warmth of her against him.

She whispered,

“Honestly… if none of it mattered, I’d happily avoid having kids completely, just to avoid the guaranteed pain. But it’s not to be.”

She sniffed again.

“Besides… I want… I want to.”

His heart slammed against his ribs.

He knew she didn’t mean now. Not like this. Not in this moment. But it was a promise he would hold onto.

He whispered back,

“So do I.”

For a while, they simply stayed like that - holding each other, both wanting more, but knowing that the atmosphere they’d built made it wrong. That would have to wait.

Eventually, they parted just long enough to climb properly into bed.

Then her arms were around him again.

And sleep claimed them both.