Suigintou's mismatched eyes—one emerald, one ruby—widened slightly, a rare flicker of genuine surprise passing through her porcelain features.
The stark morning light filtering through the window glinted off the intricate black lace and ebony ribbons of her Gothic dress, making her appear both ethereal and sharply defined.
"It seems," she said, her voice a low, melodic chime edged with frost, "you truly are aware of the gravity of what you propose."
Hozuki Nozomi offered a calm, open-handed gesture, his expression neither mocking nor overly earnest. "My name is Hozuki Nozomi. From this moment, we are partners. Please take care of me."
The first Rozen Maiden regarded his outstretched hand as one might examine an unfamiliar, possibly dangerous, artifact. She made no move to accept it, her small form radiating a potent mixture of regal pride and profound wariness.
After a deliberate pause, she posed her question with the solemnity of a sworn oath. "Do you swear to aid me in winning the Alice Game? If that is your sincere intent, then… I shall consider overlooking your prior impertinence."
"Of course," Nozomi replied, his tone leaving no room for doubt. "The contract is already sealed. My purpose aligns with yours. If I do not help you, whom else would I assist?"
His internal reasoning was pragmatic: collecting the other Rozen Maiden was his objective regardless. Contracting Suigintou provided the formal entry into the Alice Game and the necessary qualifications. It was a logical, advantageous union.
Suigintou's gaze remained fixed on his for another long moment, as if searching for any trace of deceit. Finally, with a grace that seemed both delicate and resolute, she extended her own petite, gloved hand and placed it in his. The touch was cool, the material of her glove smooth against his skin.
"Though a multitude of questions yet plague me, I shall extend my trust to you for now, Hozuki Nozomi," she declared, her voice firm. "I have committed your name to memory."
He had spoken correctly. The pact was now fully established. The proof hummed subtly between them, and within her, the whispered confirmation from her artificial spirit, Meimei, resonated: this human was an optimal contractor.
His reserves of life force—or rather, the unique energy he possessed—were profound. With him, her combat endurance would increase dramatically, allowing for the unleashing of far more devastating attacks.
Watching the initial, cautious acceptance settle over Suigintou, Nozomi allowed a faint, satisfied smile to touch his lips. "Now then," he began, steering the conversation toward practicalities, "where did you disappear to earlier, Suigintou?"
"I paid a visit to Shinku," she answered without hesitation, her pride preventing any evasion. "The fifth doll. We Rozen Maiden possess the ability to traverse through mirrors, to enter the realm of dreams and reflections. It is there that the Alice Game has always been waged."
A shadow, ancient and weary, crossed her delicate features.
"The loser of a duel must surrender her Rosa Mystica to the victor. The defeated… becomes merely an inert, unfeeling doll once more. Such is the inescapable destiny crafted for us by our Father."
Nozomi listened intently, his expression turning thoughtfully serious. "How many of these Games have you witnessed or participated in? Has there ever been a conclusive victor? A single Alice?"
"There have been skirmishes, collections… but no definitive end," Suigintou admitted, a hint of old frustration in her tone.
"The last great conflict was interrupted by the cataclysm of a world war. Our human mediators perished, and I… along with the others, fell into a prolonged slumber. My awakening now signals the Game's inevitable resumption."
"A world war?" Nozomi's eyebrow lifted inquisitively. This detail diverged from the fragments of knowledge he recalled, but such discrepancies were to be expected. This was a tapestry woven from multiple realities, a confluence of anime worlds where histories bled into one another. Absolute consistency was a futile expectation.
He pressed on to a more fundamental query. "Then, I have another question. Why must the Alice Game be fought? What does becoming 'Alice' truly mean to you?"
Suigintou's spine straightened, her eyes burning with a fervent, almost devotional light. "It is to obtain Father's acknowledgement! To bring him joy! I wish to stand before him once more and prove, beyond any doubt, that I am the most perfect, the most deserving to be his Alice!"
The declaration was filled with a raw, centuries-old yearning. As the first-born, yet initially flawed and incomplete—her body once broken, lacking even her core Rosa Mystica—this obsessive love for her creator was the very engine of her existence. It was that desperate desire which had driven her to seize her power and her spirit.
The 'Father' she revered was the enigmatic genius doll-maker, Rozen.
Hearing her passionate testament, Nozomi offered no direct rebuttal. Arguing against a faith so deeply ingrained would be futile now. Instead, he silently resolved to demonstrate through future actions that what she truly needed was not the distant approval of an absent creator, but the tangible support and partnership of Hozuki Nozomi. Furthermore, the entire structure of the Alice Game seemed intrinsically suspect.
A creator who never appeared, a mysterious rabbit-masked arbiter who enforced a battle royale among his own 'daughters'… it reeked less of a noble contest and more of a cruel, manipulative experiment.
Was the brutal consumption of sisters truly the only path? He doubted it. In fact, he suspected that Shinku, the fifth doll Suigintou had just confronted, was already beginning to question the Game's very necessity. Evidence suggested she had won a past duel but refused to claim the ultimate prize.
Suigintou felt a ripple of unease at his prolonged silence following her heartfelt declaration. "Hmph. Why do you remain quiet?" she demanded, a defensive edge returning to her voice.
"I was merely contemplating the nature of this 'Father,'" Nozomi said, his words measured. "Wondering what kind of creator would design a fate for his beloved daughters that forces them to destroy one another. Perhaps his original intention was merely for you to… play together? As sisters. Would the last one standing not be the loneliest creature in existence?"
"Silence!" Suigintou's voice sharpened like shattered crystal. Her small hands clenched into fists at her sides. "Who do you think you are? What gives you the right to speculate so casually about Father's profound designs?"
His words had struck a nerve, stirring a deep-seated doubt she refused to entertain. She would not grant him the satisfaction of seeing her turmoil. With a final, dismissive glare, she turned away. "I have no more to say to you on this matter."
Retreating to her ornate, coffin-like box, she opened it and settled inside with finality. The lid closed with a soft, definitive click, severing the conversation.
Nozomi let out a quiet, resigned sigh. Unlocking the heart of this proud, damaged, and fiercely loyal doll would be a marathon, not a sprint. He didn't mind her prickly demeanor; it was a defense mechanism he understood. She would require his power soon enough, and necessity would build its own bridges.
He focused his attention on the rose-ring now adorning his finger, the physical symbol of their contract. Beyond channeling his energy to her, he could sense other latent functions—potential for reciprocal command, even compulsion. He dismissed the thought immediately. Such crude measures were useless for what he truly sought.
The deep quiet of night eventually settled over the room. Hours later, within the sanctum of her box, Suigintou detected a faint, foreign sound. Driven by a doll's innate alertness, she subtly shifted the lid a fraction.
What she witnessed next caused her artificial heart to stutter.
A slender, pale-haired girl—Shiina Mashiro—had slipped into the room with practiced silence and was now insinuating herself under the covers of Nozomi's futon. The ensuing, whispered intimacy and shameless closeness was a spectacle utterly alien to Suigintou's experience.
Previous contractors in her long history had been innocent children or earnest young girls, their relationships with their dolls pure, almost reverent. This man, Hozuki Nozomi, operated on an entirely different, baffling wavelength.
Suigintou snapped her box shut, a faint, horrified heat rushing to her cheeks.
"L-Lewd! Shameless beyond measure!" she whispered vehemently into her dark, cushioned interior. "Of all the humans in the world, why must this kind of man be my contractor?"
Unbidden, the memory of their first meeting—the shocking sensation of his lips on hers to seal the contract—resurfaced, making the flush deepen. Her thoughts churned in chaotic, indignant circles.
Against her better judgment, driven by a morbid curiosity she would never admit, she cracked the lid once more, peering out at the pair.
Watching the easy affection, she found her small hands tightening into fists, a confusing knot of emotions she couldn't name tightening in her chest. The night wore on, with Suigintou a silent, agitated witness to a world of intimacy she scarcely comprehended.
Dawn eventually bleached the darkness from the sky. As the first rays of sunlight painted the room, Hozuki Nozomi stirred, feeling a persistent, tickling sensation at the tip of his nose. He blinked his eyes open to find Suigintou hovering imperiously at his bedside, her arms crossed. A single, obsidian-black feather, guided by her will, was retracting from his face.
"Hmph," she sniffed, looking down at him with an expression of supreme disdain. "Awaken, you dissolute human. The day does not wait for your sloth."
Nozomi rubbed his eyes, offering a wry grin. "Could you perhaps call me by my name?"
"Very well," Suigintou conceded, her tone dripping with sarcastic formality. "Awaken, Perverted Hozuki Nozomi. Now, prepare my breakfast. A contractor must see to his doll's sustenance."
While a Rozen Maiden could draw directly on a contractor's life force for energy, it was a draining, inelegant method. Consuming food, though not strictly necessary, allowed them to convert matter into a subtler form of energy, preserving their human partner's vitality.
Among their needs, however, the periodic rest within their unique, personal boxes was non-negotiable—the only way to restore their spiritual cores and prevent a permanent, coma-like stasis.
The new day, and their fraught partnership, had officially begun.