The Maiden Of Death.

Enid wasn’t speaking.

She should have been celebrating, should have been bouncing in her seat with a grin splitting her face, gushing about how they actually did it, how they won, how she and Yoko needed to plan some kind of victory celebration.

But she wasn't.

She wasn't cheering loudly like last year when Wednesday had been tempted to shove her overboard just for some peace.

Now, Enid was quiet. She paddled with mechanical motions. Yoko wasn’t much better. She had barely spoken since the moment you reappeared in your seat. The vampire wasn’t as easy to shake as Enid, but her usual smugness, her usual cocky remarks, had evaporated.

Wednesday didn’t feel the triumph she thought she would.

It was all because of you.

Wednesday could still hear their screams. Not from pain. Not from injury. But from something far worse. Something they had seen. Something only you had shown them. Something you had made them feel.

When they docked their boat, cheers exploded from the crowd, but Wednesday barely registered them, Enid barely moved, hesitating before finally stepping out of the boat. Yoko followed, adjusting her sunglasses, but even she looked shaken.

Wednesday turned her head slightly, watching as you stepped onto the dock, silent as always, your gaze unreadable. You didn’t react to the celebration, didn’t acknowledge the crowd pressing in around you, didn’t even flinch as students and teachers alike cheered. You weren’t even pretending to care.

Your eyes were somewhere else… Wednesday followed them.. on Bianca's team.

They had just pulled themselves out of the water, dripping, shaking.

They didn’t look angry. They didn’t even look humiliated. They looked… haunted.

One of them was still rubbing at his arms as if trying to rid himself of something that wasn’t there. Another refused to meet anyone’s gaze, her hands clenched at her sides. And Bianca— Bianca wasn’t looking at anyone but you. She had never looked this furious before. Not last year, not when she lost to Wednesday.

This was worse.

Weems was waiting in the quad when they returned, the Poe Cup gleaming in her hands. A small smile curved her lips as she looked at Enid, Yoko, and Wednesday, nodding approvingly before extending the trophy to them.

“A well-earned victory,” she said, “Congratulations to the Black Cats for their impressive performance.”

Enid finally perked up at that, if only slightly, taking the cup with a hesitant smile as the crowd cheered again, students gathering around to celebrate.

You didn’t move. You stood there, silent, your posture straight, your expression unreadable. You didn’t look at the cup. You didn’t acknowledge the victory.

Wednesday felt something stir in her chest, something sharp and unresolved. She had questions. Many questions. And she would get her answers.

She waited as the crowd pulled Enid away, the werewolf grinning as others clapped her on the back, already forgetting the unease that had gripped her just moments ago. Yoko followed, disappearing into the sea of students, leaving only you, Wednesday, and Weems standing behind.

Weems turned toward you “Miss L/N.”

You looked up at her, expression impassive.

“I’m glad to see you and Wednesday getting along.” Her tone was measured, but there was something in her gaze, something knowing.

“She was the first person I thought of when you joined us this year.”

You didn’t respond. Weems didn’t seem to expect you to instead she offered a final, “Congratulations on the win,” before stepping away, leaving the quad.

And now Wednesday stood beside you, awkward in a way she wasn’t used to. She wasn’t one for small talk, wasn’t one for idle conversation, and yet she felt something pressing against her throat, words that she wasn’t sure how to form.

You, as always, said nothing.

But before Wednesday could decide whether she was going to demand answers now or wait until she had you alone, Bianca was there.

She pushed through the remnants of the crowd, her eyes sharp, burning with frustration as she came to a stop in front of you.

“That wasn’t fair.” Her voice was low, bitter. “You used your freak powers.”

Wednesday watched, waiting for you to smirk, waiting for the usual cold amusement you seemed to take in these kinds of confrontations.

But you didn’t.

“You used yours first,” you said, voice steady, almost emotionless. “Your team’s mistake was tapping into my mind.”

Bianca’s lips parted slightly, caught off guard for half a second before her expression hardened again.

“You didn’t just block them out,” she accused. “You did something to them. What the hell did you do?”

“I let them in.” The words were slow, deliberate.

Something about the way you said it made Bianca stiffen.

Wednesday saw it—the way she had to resist the urge to step back.

You turned, walking away without another word, leaving Bianca fuming, fists clenched, shoulders tense.

As Wednesday watched you go, Bianca let out a sharp breath before glaring at her. “What the hell is she?”

Wednesday didn't answer. Because she didn’t know.

Enid was practically glowing, her energy endless, even after the race, even after everything that had happened.

Wednesday had expected her to come down from the adrenaline by now, to stop bouncing on her feet and smiling at everyone like she hadn’t just experienced something utterly terrifying on that lake. But that was Enid—she coped with fear and uncertainty by throwing herself headfirst into joy.

Wednesday didn’t share that particular trait.

She preferred to sit in the unsettling aftermath, to dissect every little moment, every look, every choice.

You always arrive in silence and leave in silence.

And for someone who preferred silence over pointless chatter, Wednesday found herself deeply irritated by that fact.

"Hey, Wens?"

Enid’s voice pulled her from her thoughts, and she turned to see her friend approaching, still clutching her Poe Cup victory sash like a prized possession.

"What?"

Enid hesitated, glancing around the crowd before stepping closer. "Where did Y/N go?"

"She left."

"Oh." Enid frowned, "I wanted to thank her. We never would’ve won without her."

Wednesday nodded. "Then go to her room."

Enid blinked, then grinned. "Okay, yeah, you’re right." She started to turn, then paused, shifting on her feet. "But, uh, before I do… I was thinking about going to the Jericho fair to celebrate."

Wednesday’s expression immediately soured.

"No."

Enid pouted. "Come on, Wens! It’ll be fun!"

"It will be loud. It will be filled with obnoxious people. And worst of all, it will be socializing"

"Okay, yes, but it’s a celebration," Enid pressed, her voice taking on that familiar wheedling tone. "And you need to do more things with your friends!"

Wednesday simply stared at her, unimpressed.

"Please?"

"No."

Enid groaned. And then—

She did it.

The puppy eyes.

Wednesday felt her resolve immediately waver.

It was a cheap trick. Manipulative. Undignified.

And yet… infuriatingly effective.

Before she could say anything, Enid added, "I can make Y/N join too, and you can get your chance to get to know more about her."

That got Wednesday thinking.

There were far too many unknowns when it came to you.

The questions had been stacking up, pressing down, demanding answers that you refused to give.

If there was even the slightest chance that an outing to the fair would provide her with some insight into you, then—

"Fine."

Enid’s face immediately lit up. Wednesday sighed.

She was already regretting it.

Wednesday had intended to use this time productively. The story she had been working on was unfinished, and the words should have come easily. She had spent countless hours constructing narratives, twisting plots, crafting endings that felt sharp enough to cut.

And yet, her fingers hovered over the keys, unmoving.

There was a tension in her chest—an unfamiliar, unwelcome tightness that made it impossible to concentrate.

She ignored it at first. Or at least, she tried to.

Her eyes drifted over the blank paper once more, as if the words would magically appear without her effort. The air in the room felt heavier than before. She adjusted her posture. Rolled her shoulders. Set her fingers back onto the keys with force, willing herself to push past the strange discomfort.

Still, the unease remained.

It took her all of two seconds to pinpoint the source.

She inhaled slowly through her nose, fingers curling as she stared down at the blank page in her typewriter.

Had Enid asked you yet?

And more importantly—what had you said?

No?

Or yes?

She doubted you would go willingly. You seemed the type to avoid crowds just as much as she did. But Enid was Enid.

It wasn’t that she cared. Not in the way people like Enid would assume. She simply wanted to know.

She needed to know.

Because even if you had said yes to going to the fair, Would you have given the same answer if Wednesday had been the one to ask?

It wasn’t surprising that you might say yes to Enid but would you have done the same if it had been Wednesday standing in front of you, asking for your company?

You seemed… biased on Enid’s side.

It was logical. She couldn’t blame you.

Enid had her ways of persuasion.

Her wide, pleading eyes, the way she spoke with those eyes, how she somehow made it impossible to say no without feeling as if you had kicked a puppy.

Even Wednesday had fallen victim to it.

But still.

Wednesday scowled, pressing down on the keys before she even realized she had moved, the sharp clack of metal against paper breaking the silence of the room.

She quickly glanced down at what she had written.

Nothing coherent. Just a mess of letters, fragmented thoughts that meant nothing, just—

Useless.

With an irritated exhale, she yanked the page from the typewriter and crumpled it into a ball, tossing it aside just as the door swung open.

“Hey, Wens.”

Wednesday stood immediately, her fingers twitching at her sides.

But Enid didn’t say anything.

She was already moving to her side of the room, rummaging through her drawers, gathering fresh clothes to change into.

Wednesday inhaled sharply.

She wasn’t going to ask.

She was not going to ask.

But the longer Enid moved around the room, chatting to herself about what outfit she should wear, the tighter Wednesday’s patience coiled.

Enid paused, finally glancing in her direction.

"You wanna say something, Wens?"

Wednesday stiffened.

Enid tilted her head, studying her for a moment before realization dawned on her face.

A slow, knowing smirk spread across her lips.

"Oooooh…" Enid’s voice was a mixture of amusement and mischief. "Yeah, don’t worry. Y/N said—"

She suddenly straightened, throwing her shoulders back, putting on an exaggeratedly serious expression.

"‘I have nothing better to do… for now.’"

The imitation was terrible.

Wednesday rolled her eyes and turned back toward her typewriter.

"Good."

"Well, if you wanna get to know her more, my advice from before still stands!" Enid said gathering her clothes.

Wednesday frowned. "Your advice was idiotic."

Enid rolled her eyes. "Hey! It wasn’t idiotic."

Wednesday’s gaze darkened slightly. "That was ridiculous then, and it’s ridiculous now."

Enid shrugged. "I don’t know… it worked for the Poe Cup, didn’t it? We got to know about her "powers" or whatever she did in the race, because I asked her to join! If you wanna know more about her, court her!"

Wednesday’s frown deepened.

Because Enid wasn’t entirely wrong. Spending time with you was leading to finding out more about you... leading to some... adventures in this boring year.

The thought of courting someone had never crossed her mind. The idea of actively pursuing someone, of learning about them for the sake of interest rather than necessity…

It was foreign. Unfamiliar.

And yet—

She found herself considering it.

Just for a moment.

Just long enough for Enid to smirk again and say, “See? You’re thinking about it.”

Wednesday turned sharply. Enid yelped before running towards the bathroom.

And now she stood in front of her mirror, adjusting the cuff of her sleeve, the fabric crisp against her fingers. It was the same as always—pristine, black, unimposing. There was no reason to hesitate. No reason to stand here longer than necessary.

And yet—

She was standing in front of the mirror longer than she ever had, staring at her reflection as if it would offer her some kind of clarity.

She rolled her shoulders, trying to shake the discomfort.

It was ridiculous.

She didn’t feel discomfort.

This was your fault.

Your presence had already started worming its way into her routine, invading her thoughts like an unrelenting parasite. And worst of all, she hadn’t even had the chance to properly analyze you yet. Not enough data. Not enough information.

She had no reason to be thinking about you.

And yet—

“I don’t think you need to worry too much about how you look,” Enid's voice broke her reverie “Y/N probably won’t even notice your clothing.”

Wednesday’s glare was immediate.

Enid just giggled. “Kidding! I’m sure she’ll notice… eventually.... I guess?”

Wednesday tried to ignore her.

Tried to push away the absurd thoughts creeping into her mind.

Like Enid’s ridiculous tip about courting you.

The fact that it was even lingering in her thoughts was a sign of madness.

She was not courting you.

“Oh, by the way,” she chirped, as if she hadn’t been the most aggravating person in existence just a moment ago. “I kind of invited competition too.”

Wednesday frowned. She turned slightly, fixing Enid with a sharp gaze. “What do you mean?”

“Just, you know, I thought the more the merrier.”

“Why would Bianca join us after her humiliating loss?”

Enid blinked, then giggled, shaking her head. “No, not Bianca! I was talking about Xavier.”

That gave Wednesday pause.

Her frown shifted, brow furrowing in confusion. “Why would that buffoon be my competition?”

Enid grinned, as if she had been waiting for that exact response.

“Because, Wens,” she said, voice dripping with amusement, “Xavier is so obviously hard crushing on Y/N.”

Wednesday’s entire body stilled.

That was— Ridiculous. Completely absurd.

And yet.

The idea of Xavier looking at you like that, speaking to you in that way, trying to win your attention—

Wednesday’s grip on her sleeve tightened.

Pathetic.

That fool was too weak to be her competition.

He had no chance.

You would never—

No.

It didn’t matter. Xavier was irrelevant. You wouldn’t look at him like that.

…Would you?

Wednesday’s fingers curled into fists.

No. Of course not.

But why did she care?

She didn’t.

Obviously.

Wednesday turned away, heading straight for the door. “I’m leaving.”

Enid scrambled to grab her things before following after her. “Don’t worry, Wens,” she teased. “If you need help, I can totally be your or wingwoman.”

Wednesday sighed, This was going to be a long night.

As they walked Enid was too occupied with her phone to contribute any conversation—fortunately. The werewolf was typing at a near-blinding speed, fingers moving like she was trying to hack into a government database.

"Are you planning to break the sound barrier?" Wednesday muttered.

Enid barely looked up. "Huh? Oh—just confirming our ride situation. Ajax says he's already got the car ready."

"Hmph."

Not that Wednesday particularly cared about the ride itself.

She was already regretting this outing.

And yet.

Her dark gaze shifted ahead, and there you were.

Leaning against the iron gate, arms crossed, looking as if you were already regretting every decision that had led you to this moment.

Wednesday’s fingers twitched at her sides.

Somehow, you looked even more corpse-like than Wednesday herself.

Expression flat, eyes sharp but devoid of any real interest. Already bored. Already annoyed.

Because beside you—

Xavier.

Still there.

Still talking.

Still failing to take the obvious hint that you wanted nothing to do with him.

You barely spared him a glance.

Wednesday smirked.

She admired your ability to drain the joy out of someone’s social battery with nothing but silence.

“Yoko! Ajax!” Enid chirped, finally looking up from her phone as they approached the small group.

Ajax grinned. “We’re all set. Car’s ready to go.”

Wednesday paid little attention to him.

Even as the group started moving, her eyes kept drifting in your direction.

It was subtle.

Unintentional.

She told herself it was just…observation.

Nothing more.

And yet.

She noticed everything.

The way your shoulders remained tense.

The way your fingers twitched slightly every time Xavier spoke.

The way your boots barely made a sound against the pavement.

And then, the way you looked at Ajax’s car.

Disgust.

Absolute, unfiltered disgust.

Wednesday almost smirked again.

“How are we supposed to fit in that?” you deadpanned.

Ajax chuckled. “Don’t worry, I’m taking Xavier up front with me, away from you.”

“Hey!” Xavier protested.

Enid giggled. “Half the fun of going out is squeezing into a car.”

“I would rather walk.” you said.

Before you could escape, she grabbed your wrist, tugging you toward the car with surprising strength.

“Nope! Not happening. Also, Wednesday is tiny, so she and I can manage,” Enid said with a teasing grin.

Wednesday shot her a glare.

One by one, everyone piled in.

Yoko took the window seat first.

Then Enid.

Then you.

And finally—

Wednesday.

She slid in last, the door clicking shut beside her, and immediately, she stilled.

She was close.

Too close.

Her shoulder barely brushed against yours, and yet she could feel it.

The heat of your presence.

The faintest shift of your breathing.

She could smell your perfume.

Faint, barely noticeable.

And yet.

Something sharp, dark, something that only meant... you.

This was making her feel something, Not fear. Not apprehension.

Something else. Something unknown. Something she didn’t particularly like. It was far too distracting.

Wednesday inhaled sharply, forcing herself to focus.

You, on the other hand, looked thoroughly unbothered.

Your expression was unreadable.

Deadly.

And yet—

Enid giggled.

“Wow. This is cozy,” she teased, wiggling in her seat.

Wednesday clenched her jaw.

This was going to be an excruciating ride.

And it was, uncomfortably so.

Not that Wednesday was unaccustomed to discomfort—she thrived in it, bathed in it, felt most at home wrapped in the unpleasantness of the world. But this—this was different.

The car jostled slightly over a bump in the road, forcing your shoulder to brush against hers. The contact was brief, fleeting, but Wednesday still caught the way your muscles tensed—just as hers did.

Her fingers curled tighter around her arms.

She would not acknowledge it.

Instead, she stole a glance at you.

And found—

The abyss.

Dark eyes, empty and endless

If Wednesday didn’t know better, she would think you were a statue—perfectly still, breathing so subtly it was barely noticeable, existing in the space beside her like a shadow.

And yet, Wednesday’s gaze lingered.

She told herself it was out of caution. Out of wariness.

You were unpredictable.

A threat.

She was merely keeping an eye on you.

That was all.

Another glance.

The abyss.

Another glance.

The abyss

Another glance.

The abyss looked back.

You turned your head slightly, meeting her gaze, as expressionless as ever.

Wednesday blinked.

She froze, her breath hitched, just for a second, before she shifted her eyes forward.

The car felt impossibly small.

Enid’s voice filled the air, chattering away about carnival snacks and Ferris wheels and some stupid horror house she wanted to try.

Wednesday barely processed any of it.

She exhaled slowly, steadying her heartbeat, hating the way it had betrayed her so easily.

She told herself she would not look at you again.

She lasted all of two minutes.

By the time they finally pulled into the fairgrounds, Wednesday was the first to move, her hand already on the door handle before Ajax had even fully parked.

She stepped out and focused on the ugly lights of the fair. Glad to get the distance from you, only for her eyes to find you again.

You were already standing outside the car, arms crossed, looking at the fair with an expression bordering on distaste.

Xavier was beside you again, trying to get your attention.

Enid tugged on Ajax’s sleeve. “C’mon, let’s get tickets.”

Ajax nodded, already digging into his pockets for cash. “Alright, you guys wait here.”

As they left, the rest of the group lingered near the entrance.

Xavier turned to you. “Have you ever tried carnival games?”

You didn’t answer.

Xavier, undeterred, chuckled. “Man, you really are a tough crowd.”

Silence.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “C’mon, you’ve got to at least like something here. The rides? The food?”

Wednesday watched. Her grip on her own wrist tightened.

You weren’t even sparing him a glance.

Good.

Xavier rubbed the back of his neck. “Right. Uh—what about—”

“Stop talking.”

Wednesday spoke before she even realized it.

Xavier turned toward her, blinking. “What?”

“I said stop talking.” Wednesday’s tone was sharp, cutting. “Unless you want to almost lose your head again.”

Xavier frowned. “Why do you care?”

Wednesday did not have an answer for that.

But she felt your gaze on her.

She turned her head just slightly.

You were looking at her now, expression as unreadable as ever.

But your eyes—

Questions.

Questions you didn’t ask.

A small mercy.

“Alright, got ‘em!” Enid’s voice cut through the air, breaking the tension.

Wednesday exhaled quietly.

She looked forward.

You walked ahead, your gaze already fixed on the entrance, already moving as if this was nothing, as if Wednesday’s outburst, meant nothing.

And maybe it didn’t.

But Wednesday’s fingers curled behind her back.

And that damn necessity in her chest was still beating.

Enid was loving every second of it. “Oh my gosh, where do we even start?!” she squealed, practically vibrating as she tugged on Ajax’s arm. “The Ferris wheel? The haunted house? No, wait—the food! Ooooh, but I really wanna play some games first!”

“Enid,” Yoko drawled, adjusting her sunglasses despite the fact that it was nighttime, “you sound like a hyperactive golden retriever.”

Enid huffed. “And you sound like an overgrown housecat, but I don’t judge. Oooh, we have to play games first!” Enid declared, grabbing Yoko’s arm. “I need to win something cute!”

“You never win anything,” Yoko deadpanned.

Enid pouted. “That is so not true.”

“It is though,” Ajax added.

“Shhh! This time will be different!” Enid huffed before her eyes landed on you. “Come on, Y/N, play something with me.”

You barely even looked at her before replying, tone flat, “I would rather choke on razor blades than play any more of your stupid games. One Poe Cup was enough.”

Enid groaned. “Ugh, you and Wednesday are such killjoys."

Xavier chuckled. “Speaking of the Poe Cup,” he said, crossing his arms, “I heard you took down Bianca’s boat after she took down mine. Was that avenging me?"

You finally turned to him—just enough to shoot him a look so cold it could freeze hell itself. “More like avenging my chance to take you down myself,” you deadpanned.

“Chill… I’m down, though,” Xavier replied with an easy grin. Ajax smacked his arm. “Dude. Stop talking before you get killed."

Wednesday noticed the way your eyes flickered over the carnival, taking in every detail with quiet calculation. Always on guard, yet somehow effortlessly graceful. She understood that feeling well.

“Come on, come on, I see one I like!” Enid suddenly shouted, grabbing Yoko and dragging her toward a row of booths.

The group followed, stopping at a shooting game where a variety of stuffed animals hung in display.

Enid’s eyes locked onto one—a large, floppy-eared werewolf plush with big cartoonish eyes. She gasped. “Oh my God. That’s it. That’s my child. I must have it.”

“You’re gonna miss all your shots again,” Yoko muttered.

“I will not!”

Enid handed over her ticket and grabbed the plastic rifle. She lined up her shot, squinted—then fired.

And missed.

“…I got this,” she mumbled, reloading.

Another shot. Another miss. And another. And another.

By the time she was on her last attempt, Ajax was actively wincing every time she pulled the trigger.

She let out a strangled noise of frustration, shoving the rifle back at the booth attendant. “This game is rigged.”

“Sure,” Yoko muttered.

Enid turned on her heel, fixing Wednesday with a hopeful stare. “Wends, help me.”

Wednesday scoffed. “Absolutely not.”

“But—”

“No.”

Enid let out a whimper, looking positively devastated. “Fine. Y/N, you probably can aim well too. Help me?”

Your expression didn’t change. You didn’t even bother answering. You simply turned away and walked off without looking back.

Enid let out an exaggerated gasp. "Traitors, both of you."

Ajax patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ll buy you one like that.”

Enid sighed dramatically. “But I want that ‘that.’”

Wednesday had heard enough. Without another word, she turned and started walking. Not toward the next game. Not toward the food stands. But toward you.

Wednesday walked. And you walked ahead of her. There was no reason for it. No logic behind her steps, no thought-out conclusion as to why she was trailing behind you like some lost ghost. But she did.

You didn’t seem to have a destination in mind. Just walking, silent, the neon lights of the fair fading behind you, the noise dimming with each step.

She was closing the distance, slowly, when you suddenly stopped. The abruptness nearly made her halt in an uncharacteristically awkward manner, but she steadied herself before the misstep could happen.

Then you turned, looking at her with unreadable eyes.

“Why are you following me?” Your voice was flat, just as always. A simple question, but one that made something unpleasant stir in Wednesday’s chest.

Her arms folded neatly behind her back. "I am simply walking away from the hyperactive group of puppies and you just happen to be doing the same."

Your stare was unreadable, searching. Then you exhaled, an almost-scoff, before turning away again, walking to the railing by the pond. Wednesday hesitated. Then she followed, slower this time, stopping beside you at the railing.

"What did you do?"

Your head tilted slightly, but your eyes did not leave the water.

"What did I do?" you echoed.

"To Bianca's team. In the Poe Cup," she clarified. "Why were they clawing at their own skin?"

A pause. Then, calmly—

“They were burning.”

Wednesday's brows furrowed. “There was no fire.”

You said nothing.

Wednesday turned, fully facing you now. "Explain."

Nothing.

A flicker of irritation sparked in her chest. "Did you use an ability?" she pressed. "A trick? A hallucination?"

You continued staring at the water, impassive, detached in a way that grated against Wednesday's patience. The need for answers curled inside her, twisting, gnawing.

Her fingers twitched. "Tell me."

You blinked. Slowly. Then—

"No."

Wednesday’s jaw tensed.

She hated this.

She hated not knowing. Hated the way you spoke in fragments, revealing nothing while saying just enough to keep her hooked. It was infuriating.

You weren’t normal. She had known that from the first moment she crossed blades with you. But this… this was something different.

Something deeper.

Something dangerous.

And so she asked—

The question she hadn’t meant to ask.

The question that had been gnawing at her, tightening like a noose around her thoughts.

“Whose side are you on?”

She didn’t even know what she meant by them. Didn’t even know what she was asking. But she knew—she knew—that there was a right answer and a wrong one.

You finally looked at her again, but this time, there was something different in your eyes. Something unsettling.

“Death’s.”

"There you guys are!" Enid beamed, holding up the plush. "Okay, so it’s not the exact one I wanted, but close enough! Anyway, come on, I already got tickets for the Ferris wheel, so you can’t say no."

You barely reacted. Just a slow, almost exhausted roll of your eyes before you pushed off the railing, walking past her toward the others.

Enid grinned after you. Then she turned to Wednesday.

And the grin got worse.

"So," she sing-songed, shifting on her heels, "did she say, ‘Yes, I would love to go on a brooding date with you?’"

Wednesday stared at Enid, at her sickeningly pleased expression, and thought— If she kills her now and throws her body into the pond, will anyone notice?

Enid had been whispering with Ajax for the last two minutes, occasionally glancing back at her with an expression that made Wednesday want to commit violence. The type of expression that meant Enid was up to something. And sure enough, the second they reached the loading zone, Enid gasped dramatically, clutching her pockets.

"Oh no!" she said, much too loudly. "Ajax, I think I dropped my phone!"

Ajax blinked. "Uh, I don’t think—"

"Go help me look for it!" Enid cut him off, gripping his arm with enough force to make him stumble.

He opened his mouth as if to argue, but one glare from Enid shut him up.

Wednesday narrowed her eyes.

Before Wednesday could demand what she was planning, she suddenly pushed Wednesday.

"Oops," Enid chirped as she shoved Wednesday forward—right into the open Ferris wheel compartment.

Wednesday barely caught herself, boots skidding slightly against the metal floor. The door slammed shut behind her with a sharp click.

And then she realized—

You were sitting inside.

You blinked at her. Slowly.

Enid grinned through the small window, wiggling her fingers. "Enjoy!" she called before sprinting off to another compartment with Ajax.

Wednesday’s fingers curled into a fist.

That insufferable little—

She took a slow breath, forcing her expression into something colder, more composed, as she turned to you.

You were still staring at her, expression unreadable.

Then, with a sigh, you leaned back against the seat and turned your gaze outward, looking at the fairgrounds below.

The Ferris wheel jerked slightly as it began to move.

Wednesday hesitated before sitting opposite you.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke.

The Ferris wheel carried you higher, lifting the compartment above the flashing lights and noise, where the air was quieter, thinner.

Wednesday's eyes drifted to you.

You were always quiet. That was nothing new. The way you looked out at the night—the way your expression barely shifted, the way your blue eyes reflected nothing but the dim glow of distant carnival lights—it was something else entirely.

But your eyes—your eyes were strange things. Sometimes, when she looked at them long enough, she could catch flickers of emotion beneath all that emptiness.

Annoyance. At her constant questioning. At Enid’s relentless attempts to befriend you.

But sometimes, just sometimes—

Sadness.

A flicker. A ghost of something before it vanished again, replaced by the abyss you so often carried.

Wednesday felt something press against her ribs, unfamiliar and uninvited.

She ignored it.

Instead, she broke the silence.

"Death?" Her voice was quieter than usual, measured. "What had you meant by that?"

And just as she expected, there was no answer. You wouldn't open up to her. She thought when she once opened up.

About the day she told Enid about Nero.

The day she admitted that losing him hurt. That she once mourned something. That she felt something.

That she could feel.

Could you?

Could you ever speak of something so personal the way she had? Could you ever sit beside her and share something real, unfiltered, the way she once had with Enid?

Could you open up to her like that?

Would you?

The thought made something uncomfortable settle in her chest.

She pressed it down.

Instead, she asked, "Have you ever cried?"

You frowned, finally looking at her again. "What kind of question is that?"

"A straight one," she said, meeting your gaze evenly.

"I don't remember how to cry."

Wednesday blinked.

Your voice wasn’t heavy with sorrow. It wasn’t anything. Just empty. Stating a fact. The words settled inside her, unsettling in a way she couldn't define.

She almost asked—almost pressed further—but the wheel shifted slightly, and her mind, to her horror, slipped back to something else.

Enid’s words.

Try courting her.

Wednesday’s entire body tensed at the thought.

Why had that even surfaced in her mind? It was ridiculous. She had no interest in such trivial matters, no need for sentimental nonsense.

And yet—

The idea of knowing more about you. The idea of unraveling you in a way no one else could. The thought of being the one to break past whatever walls you had built...

She would just ask something simple. Something natural.

Nothing strange about it.

Just a question.

Her mouth opened.

"If I were to—"

Then she stopped.

You turned your head slightly, glancing at her, waiting.

Wednesday’s stomach twisted unpleasantly.

Abort.

She shifted, straightening her spine. "Forget it."

You stared at her.

But you didn’t press.

For some reason, Wednesday wasn’t sure why she wasn’t relieved.

As soon as the Ferris wheel compartment touched the ground and the door swung open, you stepped out without a word as if.. distancing yourself from Wednesday...

A familiar irritation stirred in Wednesday’s chest, but she swallowed it down before she could make sense of it.

“Did you ask her?”

Wednesday barely had a second to react before Enid was beside her, practically bouncing in excitement.

Wednesday shot her a deadpan look. “No.”

Enid groaned, dragging her hands down her face. “Ugh! Why not? Do you know how hard I worked to set that up?”

Wednesday narrowed her eyes. “You shoved me into a compartment with her and ran away.”

“Exactly! And you wasted the opportunity.”

“There was no opportunity to waste,” Wednesday said flatly, “I fail to see why you persist with this nonsense.”

Enid gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to her chest. “Nonsense?! Wednesday Addams! This is literally the best ship I’ve ever sailed, and you’re just letting it sink.”

Wednesday clenched her jaw. “I will personally ensure that you do not make it back to shore.”

“Ooooh, I know! What if you ask her to the Raven?”

Wednesday nearly missed a step.

Her eyes snapped to Enid, but her best friend was simply grinning, her hands clasped together like she had just solved some grand mystery.

The Raven.

The words echoed in Wednesday’s mind, conjuring unwanted memories.

Last year.

Tyler.

His lies.

Wednesday had been blind. Foolish. She had let herself be deceived, let herself ignore the signs, the warnings, the pieces that never quite fit.

She had danced with a monster.

Now—

She exhaled slowly, pushing away the weight in her chest.

Now, there was you.

And the difference—

The difference was that you were a monster of an entirely different kind.

Not the kind that lurked in the shadows, waiting to strike.

But the kind that stood right in front of her, fully visible, fully real, and yet more unreadable than anything she had ever faced before.

She had fought off murderers, unmasked killers, faced death itself—

But there was no greater danger than the thing that pulls you in the most.

No.

You did not pull her in.

That would be absurd.

Wouldn’t it?

“Wednesday.”

Enid’s voice snapped her back to reality.

“What?”

“I asked if you’re gonna do it.”

Wednesday turned away, the words stiff on her tongue. “No.”

Enid groaned again, dramatically stomping her foot. “Why are you like this?”

Wednesday ignored her.

Instead, she focused on the group ahead, where Ajax, Xavier, and Yoko were already making their way toward the food stalls.

“Come on, let’s get food,” Enid huffed, grabbing Wednesday’s sleeve and dragging her along. “You can mope about your feelings later.”

“I do not mope.”

Enid snickered. “Sure, sure. And I don’t own way too many sweaters.”

“Alright, my treat!” Enid declared, clapping her hands together.

Yoko perked up instantly. “Sweet! I was totally gonna pretend I forgot my wallet.”

Enid rolled her eyes, nudging her aside as she stepped up to order.

And when she returned—

“Come on, I got you something too.”

You blinked at Enid. Then at the food she was holding out.

You didn’t reach for it immediately.

Your eyes flickered, just for a second.

A flicker of something Wednesday had seen before.

That same ghost of sadness.

But before Wednesday could analyze it further, it was gone, replaced once again by that impenetrable void.

The group settled at a nearby table, the conversation naturally spiraling into idle chatter as they ate.

“Okay, but why are carnival portions so tiny?” Ajax grumbled, eyeing his food with betrayal.

“You literally got two servings,” Yoko pointed out.

“Yeah, but I could eat three.”

“That’s your fault.”

Across the table, Enid nudged you lightly. “Hey, at least tell me I made a good choice.”

You looked at the food in your hands, then at her. “I don’t care.”

Enid pouted. “Rude.”

Xavier chuckled. “That’s just her way of saying ‘thank you.’”

Your gaze slowly slid toward him. Xavier coughed. “Or not.”

Ajax chuckled, plopping down onto a nearby bench with his own food. “I don’t know what you’re so excited about, Enid.”

“She’s eating! That’s a win!”

Xavier leaned back against the table, smirking. “You act like she’s a stray cat that just let you pet her for the first time.”

Enid gasped. “Oh my god. She totally is.”

“I will gut you all,” you said, voice completely monotone.

Wednesday smirked slightly. That, at least, was amusing.

Conversations carried on around her, the group falling into easy chatter about classes, Nevermore drama, and general nonsense.

But Wednesday—

Wednesday wasn’t listening.

Her thoughts were still elsewhere.

Still trapped in the earlier suggestion.

The Raven.

Could she ask you?

Should she ask you?

Would you even say yes?

Her stomach twisted unpleasantly at the uncertainty.

It was infuriating.

She would not let this consume her thoughts.

And yet—

She knew she was already losing that battle.

The boys were the first to break off, Ajax clapping Xavier on the back as they headed toward their respective dorms.

“Later, guys,” Ajax called.

“Duh.” Enid grinned

Ajax chuckled, stuffing his hands into his pockets before strolling off. Xavier gave the group one last nod before following, disappearing down the path toward his hall.

That left just the girls.

Enid and Yoko fell into step behind you and Wednesday as they all walked toward Ophelia Hall. Wednesday had initially taken her usual place at Enid’s side, but somehow, without realizing it, she had ended up beside you. The realization struck her like a blade slipping between her ribs.

She did not correct it.

She did not pull back, did not slow her pace to fall into step with Enid instead.

From behind, she could feel Enid’s grin boring into the back of her skull.

She did not acknowledge it.

But she could imagine it perfectly—the way Enid was probably exchanging looks with Yoko, the silent but obnoxiously obvious glee in her expression.

Wednesday resisted the urge to sigh.

Instead, she glanced at you.

Your expression was the same as always—cool, unreadable. But your posture was slightly different now, your shoulders less rigid than before, your steps more relaxed.

Wednesday was unsure what to make of that.

But there was something else clawing at the back of her mind.

That dream.

No.

Not a dream.

A vision.

“I know what I have to do now.”

She could feel it in her bones, the same way she had felt all her other visions creeping at the edges of her consciousness.

It had been real.

It had been real, and it meant something.

You stopped at your door, fingers brushing the handle before finally opening it. But before stepping inside, you paused—just for a fraction of a second—turning slightly to glance at them.

A glance.

Nothing more.

Then the door shut behind you.

Enid groaned, slumping dramatically. “Ughhh. She has her own single room? She’s so lucky! No offense, Wednesday.”

Wednesday rolled her eyes. “Your existence is offensive enough.”

Enid simply grinned. “Aw, you do care.”

Yoko snorted, stretching lazily. “Welp, I’m heading in. Night, girls.”

Wednesday didn’t respond. She turned on her heel, heading toward their dorm, Enid falling into step behind her.

The moment they entered, Enid flopped onto her bed with an exaggerated sigh. “That was fun. We should do it more often.”

Wednesday hummed in vague agreement.

She hardly cared about the carnival itself. But there was something to be gained from the night.

Information.

Observations.

Patterns.

And most importantly—

You.

She needed more information.

Perhaps she would start with Weems.

As much as she detested the thought of seeking help from the headmistress, Weems would likely have records. Files. Anything that could give her insight.

If there was something to know about you—she would find it.

She would figure you out.

And when Wednesday laid down on her bed, staring at the ceiling, thoughts tangled in a web of calculations and uncertainties, sleep was taking her. She narrowed her eyes, as if glaring at the darkness itself might reveal answers.

And they did.

Her eyes snapped open.

But she was not in her bed.

She was lying on cold, damp grass.

A dream.

No. A vision.

She knew the difference by now.

Wednesday pushed herself up. A strange sensation prickled at the back of her neck, the kind that sent warning bells ringing in her mind.

She was not alone.

She turned, and there she was.

Standing just a few feet away, half illuminated by some unseen light.

“Goody?”

“Wednesday.”

Goody’s voice was calm, but there was something different this time.

“You said I would never see you again,” Wednesday stated.

Goody’s expression darkened. “You have no idea what I did to come back to warn you of what I found in the afterlife. The rules I broke. The forces I angered.”

Wednesday felt the ground beneath her tremble.

Goody did not flinch.

“The maiden of death will bring this world’s end.”

Fire erupted in every direction, wild and consuming, turning the darkness into a blazing inferno. The heat was immediate, suffocating. Flames licked at the air, curling and twisting, reaching, hungering.

Wednesday turned sharply toward her, eyes narrowing. “Who?”

But Goody did not answer. She only watched as the fire reached them.

Wednesday could not breathe. The flames roared, consuming everything, consuming her— She jolted awake.

Wednesday clenched her fists.

Something was coming.

And she had the sickening suspicion that she already knew who the maiden of death was.

The sun had barely risen, but she was already fully awake, her mind a razor-sharp blade slicing through the haze of uncertainty.

When she reached Principal Weems’ office, she didn’t bother knocking. With a firm push, she stepped inside.

Weems barely lifted her gaze from the paperwork before her. A sigh left her lips before she spoke.

“Miss Addams,” she greeted, setting her pen down carefully. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this very early morning intrusion?”

Wednesday didn’t waste time. “I need information.”

Weems arched an eyebrow. “Information?”

“On a student.”

That made Weems pause.

Wednesday caught the subtle way the older woman’s posture stiffened, her expression carefully neutral. A reaction was expected, but this was… interesting.

Weems leaned back slightly. “And which student, pray tell, has caught your interest?”

Wednesday’s voice remained even. “Y/N L/N.”

This time, there was no mistaking the reaction.

It lasted no more than a second, but Wednesday saw it. The flicker of hesitation in her eyes, the way her fingers flexed minutely before clasping together on the desk.

It was confirmation enough.

“That type of information is highly confidential,” Weems said at last, her tone measured. “Even for you.”

Wednesday didn’t blink. “I assumed as much.”

“Then you understand that I cannot grant your request.”

Wednesday stepped closer. “Cannot or will not?”

Weems met her gaze steadily. “Both.”

A lesser person might have faltered under Wednesday’s unyielding stare, but Weems had dealt with her long enough to know how to hold her ground.

Wednesday didn’t relent. “Why?”

“There are rules in place to protect student privacy,” Weems replied smoothly. “That is not something I can simply overlook, even for you, Wednesday.”

Wednesday remained still, studying the principal’s face for any hint of weakness. “You know something about her.”

Weems sighed. “Miss Addams—”

“You reacted when I said her name. You know something,” Wednesday pressed. “Something you don’t want me to find out.”

Weems’ lips pressed into a thin line. “This conversation is over.”

Wednesday didn’t move.

Principal Weems had all but confirmed that you were far from just another student. Wednesday just turned sharply on her heel and strode toward the door without another word.

As she stepped into the hallway, she barely needed to glance down before seeing it.

A thin folder.

Held up by a familiar disembodied hand.

“Efficient as always,” she murmured, reaching down to take the folder.

Thing wiggled his fingers smugly.

Now, she would have her answers...

The file was thin.

Unreasonably so.

Wednesday sat at her desk, fingers tightening slightly around the folder as she flipped through the pages once more.

But no matter how many times she read them, the conclusion remained the same.

There was nothing.

Nothing beyond the barest essentials—your name, your outcast abilities which she had already witnessed. There were no details about your past, no disciplinary records, no personal history. No explanation for why you had been sent to Nevermore.

It was practically blank.

That was impossible.

Every student at Nevermore had a file containing at least a fragment of their past, a glimpse into their lives before arriving at the academy. But yours? Yours was empty.

Fabricated? Or erased?

This wasn’t what she had expected.

She had thought she would uncover something, evidence that you were dangerous, a clue about what you were hiding, something that would explain why you unsettled her so much.

Instead, she had more questions than before.

The warning still echoed in her mind.

The maiden of death will bring this world’s end.

And if Goody had gone through the effort of returning from the afterlife—something she had explicitly said she would never do—then the danger must be worse than Wednesday can ever imagine.

And now Wednesday was certain—there was no way to uncover the truth about you without being close to you.

Try courting her.

Enid’s voice echoed in her mind, as exasperated and teasing as it had been when she first suggested it.

And yet, here she was, sitting at her desk before sunrise, actually considering it.

No.Not considering.Planning.

The realization sent a sharp twist through her stomach, something foreign and entirely unwelcome.

Wednesday Addams did not court people.

The very idea was absurd.

And yet, it seemed the only viable course of action.

She needed to know more about you.

She needed to understand what Goody had meant.

She needed to solve you.

The word courtship made her grimace, but she could not deny that a more direct approach was required.

She clenched her fists on the desk.

A loud, groggy grunt cut through her thoughts.

“Morning,” Enid mumbled, voice thick with sleep. She cracked one eye open, barely registering Wednesday’s presence at her desk before shutting it again. “Ugh… isn't it illegal to be up this early?”

Wednesday remained silent.

Enid, still half-asleep, didn’t seem to mind the lack of response. She simply groaned again and curled back into her pillow, muttering something unintelligible.

Wednesday exhaled slowly.

She had faced death, deception, and monsters lurking in the shadows. And yet, the thought of this made her feel like she was walking into something far more dangerous.

She sighed.

There was no point in delaying it any longer.

“…Enid.”

Enid made a noise that was somewhere between a groan and a whimper. “Mmhhwhat?”

Wednesday hesitated.

The words felt wrong in her mouth, like an unfamiliar language she had never spoken before.

But she forced them out.

“…How does one court Y/N?”

There was a long, long silence.

Then—

“I SUMMON ONE MILLION OREOS!”

Wednesday blinked. “…What?”

Enid shot upright so fast she nearly fell out of bed, eyes wide and wild with disbelief.

“I was checking if I was dreaming or not,” Enid explained rapidly. “Wait a minute—” She gasped dramatically. “WAIT A MINUTE—”

Wednesday braced herself.

“YOU WANT TO COURT Y/N?!”

Wednesday clenched her jaw. “Keep your voice down.”

“Oh my GOD.” Enid looked like she was about to combust. “Oh my GOD. Oh my—”

“Enid.”

“I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS. AM I STILL DREAMING?”

“Enid.”

“You—Wednesday Addams—want to—”

“Enid.”

“Court Y/N?”

Wednesday regretted this already.