Clover's Prescription for Love

Everyone only had a few sparse moments to shout their confusion at each other before turning their attention to Ren, whose condition was fortunately stabilized thanks to Solomon’s Crimoire. Once he had his hands on a first aid kit, he immediately began his operation, and while he treated him, everyone else had a long talk with Clover and Dorothy in the living room.

Hours passed after they finally explained everything to each other again—starting from Eloi’s accident about a year ago and the secret that he lived inside Penelope’s mind to survive, to Horace’s story nine months ago, Cherry’s experiences at The Spectacular Theory, Solomon and Charlie’s eight months of hell, Eloi’s hell, the period that Dorothy and Clover left for the capital, discovering Ren’s plans, and finally wrapping it all up by having Clover and Dorothy explaining their side of the story right after Horace left for the mansion—basically, everything in the past year up to now.

The moment everyone finally caught up with each other’s stories, the sheer amount of new information forced everyone to remain silent for another extended time to process it. Everyone huddled together close to the hearth Cherry ignited, staring at it with mixed feelings.

To think so much happened in so little time. It felt like a miracle now that everyone finally sat together under the same roof and finished the remaining disputes they had left.

“Why didn’t you tell us about Eloi this whole time?” asked Clover.

Penelope gripped her skirt. “Mother told us to keep it a secret during our investigation,” she murmured. “If someone was genuinely after Eloi’s life, they must not know that he survived.”

“But before we knew it, we ended up keeping that secret longer than expected,” said Eloi, shrugging.

“And I ended up keeping that secret too when Eloi’s behavior continued to slip,” said Theodore, winking playfully.

“Hah, thanks.”

“But it turns out, it was Monty targeting everyone all along,” Cherry mumbled.

Clover twitched a brow. “If Solomon could save Eloi, why couldn’t he save our mother?”

“Because he was too late, remember?” said Theodore. “Our mother was long gone before he could make it home in time.”

He took a deep breath and sighed. “I see,” he muttered, turning to Eloi. “I’m sorry, for everything I’ve put you through. You don’t have to forgive me.”

“Sheesh, you’re making it hard for me to punch your face too,” said Eloi, shaking his head. “Don’t worry about it anymore, mate. You didn’t know I was with all of you, and I didn’t try hard enough. We’re both at fault here. Sorry for not telling you sooner either.”

“...I suppose that means we’re even?”

“I guess so.”

The two exchanged nods, and Clover turned to the twins next, who returned reassuring stares.

“I think we’re even too,” said Charlie. “We’ve practically invited ourselves into your business.”

“It kind of was our business since we owe your father for saving our lives,” said Cherry. "But we really did mean well trying to help."

“...I understand that now,” said Clover. “But I still want to apologize for raising my blades.”

“No worries. I know you weren’t planning to hurt us anyway,” said Charlie. “I didn’t sense any bloodlust from you at all.”

Now called out, he timidly looked away.

“Hey, what about the rest of us?” asked Theodore. “I get that you brainwashed us so our hearts don’t explode but we never asked for it.”

“If you died, you wouldn’t be able to anyway,” said Clover.

“...Fair point.”

Dorothy squeezed her knees as she peered at Clover. “I think… there’s still one more person you should apologize to,” she said.

“Hmph, if you’re talking about our father, then forget it—”

“I’m talking about you.”

Clover blinked.

“Clover, you’ve been way too hard on yourself more than any of us. You should forgive yourself too.”

He broke eye contact and folded his arms. “You all should know I can’t simply move on like that.”

“We already understood that. Take all the time you need. We only want to remind you that you’re not alone.”

Clover shyly glimpsed at everyone’s reassuring, supportive gazes, causing him to look back away with a light tint of pink in his cheeks. “I… appreciate it, I guess,” he quietly murmured.

“Heh, I heard that,” said Theodore.

“You shut it.”

Horace also observed everyone’s gazes—especially Eloi’s—and drew his conclusion as the air around him grew gentle and warm. He smiled to himself, chuckled, and leaned forward on his seat. “Clover, I’d like to share something with you. Or rather, to everyone here—if you all don’t mind.”

All the youths turned their attention to him as he stood up, hands clasped behind his back. “For the past eight months, I’ve done nothing but kill your kind,” he said. “However, there’s one important detail I wanted to highlight about this job Ren gave me. As Clover had put it, we are licensed executioners. We exterminate threats on sight, and by threats, I, of course, meant vampires.”

Horace continued to pace around the room, circling the youths. “However, all the vampires I’ve killed have a pattern: serial killers, drug lords, genociders, cannibals, conspirators, terrorists, arsonists, and so on. They’re all monstrous criminals who’ve hurt others for their selfish desires. Clover, you’ve seen those sorts of people as well, correct?”

“Right,” Clover muttered.

He patted his shoulder. “So that means you can differentiate who doesn’t have a heart…” He glanced at the rest of the youngsters. “And who does.”

“Technically, humans can be just as bad as well,” said Eloi.

“And we all know who’s the perfect example,” said Theodore, shuddering.

“And that’s precisely what I want to emphasize. Clover, take a look at everyone here. Are they monsters?”

“What kind of question is that? Of course not.”

“And why is that?”

“Isn’t it obvious? They’re family.”

“And following that logic, we don’t see you as one either,” said Dorothy

Clover blinked.

“Yeah, a crybaby like you can’t be one,” said Theodore.

“What are you talking about? I’m not crying.”

“But you did cry a lot before,” said Penelope. “Your mask would sometimes leave tear stains.”

He pursed his lips as painful memories began to flood before his eyes—the scenes of him shedding tears for his family’s tragedies and his friends’ supposed deaths during the past eight months while cooped up in his quiet room.

There were times when he had nothing else to do but stare at the endless horizon through his windows. With just him alone with his thoughts, he thought of nothing but the past.

He didn’t want to admit it out loud: He missed everyone’s smiles. He missed the days when everyone spent time together, whether it be at a park, some festival, or at Astrale Academy.

When tragedy struck, and when lives were robbed, the shards of those broken dreams and memories stabbed him over and over for months.

One could cry out of heartache, and Clover was no different.

Horace ruffled his hair. “To experience both joys and sorrows, to love and suffer losses, and to rage against despair means to be human. Clover, your tears and regrets—as well as everyone else’s—are proof that you vampires are as human as your mother, Eloi, and me.”

Clover’s vision suddenly grew watery as his words dissolved into his heart, and before he knew it, tears rolled away.

“Hah, you really are a crybaby,” Theodore teased.

“Ugh, sh-shut up!” He quickly wiped his face. “I-I’m not crying…”

“Oh, quit acting tough, you big softie. Come here!” His brother approached him, pulled him close, and swung his arms over his shoulders, patting his back.

His sisters quickly got up next and joined the hug, and Clover couldn’t help but choke a sob. His friends shared knowing smiles and joined in the group hug next, followed by a pair of muscular arms hugging all of them at once.

The youths looked up at Solomon, who smiled and patted their backs. “Haha, excuse me,” he said. “I just finished treating Ren a moment ago and arrived to hear Horace’s words, and I couldn’t help but join you all as well—I feel so incredibly happy to see you all reconciling with one another.”

Clover quickly wiped his tears and broke off from the hug, clearing his throat. He briefly stared into his golden eyes before shyly lowering his head, gripping his wrists. “Erm…”

Solomon only smiled back. “Son,” he said tenderly. “I’m overjoyed to see that light returning to your eyes once again.”

The son faced him, widening his gleaming, trembling eyes. “F-Father,” he croaked, starting another round of tears. “I… I’m so, so sorry…”

Solomon pulled him into a bear hug, embracing him firmly yet ever so warmly and gently. “I am sorry as well. I love you, son.”

The crybaby’s invisible “mask” finally slipped from his face and bawled. He gripped the back of his father’s shirt tightly, tears raining and drenching his shirt. “I’m sorry! I was wrong! I’m so sorry!”

Solomon began to well up tears and tightened his hug.

Cherry also burst into tears, and while loudly sobbing, she grabbed the nearest cloth her hand could reach and wiped her face with it.

“Oi!” Charlie yanked his sleeve away. “Stop using me as your tissue!”

“Ah, my bad.” She sniffled and wiped her face with her apron.

Penelope and Dorothy also began to cry and rejoined in the hug. Theodore casually grinned as he hugged them next, but Cherry could tell he held back tears of his own. She found herself smiling next and decided to join in, followed by her brother and Eloi.

Solomon turned to the ex-butler next. “You too, Horace,” he said, extending his arm.

Horace raised his hand and shook his head. “Er, that will not be necessary—”

Solomon snatched his hand, yanked him close, and hugged him tightly, practically forcing him to join the group hug.

Horace could only express his silent agony as he wriggled around, only to slump his shoulders in defeat. “My goodness,” he murmured. “What a bunch you are…”

He faintly smiled and finally hugged back, joining Solomon as they embraced the young ones between them, who all began to share each other’s warmth by the hearth.