"Uhm… Vanitas…"
"What?"
"Does your fiancée… hate me?"
"Huh?"
Vanitas genuinely froze at the question Franz had just asked. The two of them were huddled near the bathroom, Vanitas still drying his hands after stepping out.
"She really beat me up," Franz said.
"…Margaret? Why?"
"I asked her for a duel. The air changed instantly. We started swinging, and the next thing I knew, I was on the ground."
"So you lost."
"No. I'm serious." Franz frowned, rubbing the back of his neck. "There was something behind her eyes. Like fire. Like she genuinely wanted to kill me. I'm telling you, she hates me."
Vanitas stared at him for a long second before sighing.
"…You asked her for a duel?"
"Yes?"
"You didn't say anything else."
"I just asked for a spar."
"…I see."
That explained everything, and at the same time, nothing at all.
Franz was overreacting. But it was understandable. The more puppets Vanitas encountered, the more he came to realize just how distinct each of them truly was.
