Genre: Urban Fantasy | Magic & Mystery | Dark Humor + Tension
Featuring:

Maki – curious, clever, reckless thief with sticky fingers and too much confidence

Harua – vendor of enchanted items, cold smile, silk gloves, and secrets

Taki – vendor of curses and bargains, sharp tongue, never blinks, possibly unhinged

🌕 VIGNETTE: The Birth of the Velvet Booth

Long ago, before curses wore jewelry and bargains had teeth, the Moonlight Market was lawless.

Deals were made with lies. Stalls collapsed into ruin. No one trusted a vendor unless they could vanish before sunrise.

And then came two boys.

One with gloves so clean they made devils flinch.
The other with a grin so sharp he once tricked a banshee into singing lullabies.

Harua & Taki.

They arrived with nothing but wit, charm, and matching rings no one saw them steal.

They didn't sell potions or wands.

They sold rules.
And if you didn't follow them, they sold revenge.

Their booth—velvet-draped, never in the same place twice—became the Market's heartbeat.

Want a memory removed?
A hex wrapped in silk?
A soul rethreaded with silver?

You asked them.

But you never haggled.

And if you broke a deal?

They came for you in your dreams.
Dressed like royalty.
Smiling like knives.

🌕 Opening: The Market Appears

It only shows up once a year.

At midnight. Under the full moon.
No signs. No paths. Just... there, in the ruins of an old town square.

The Moonlight Market.

Candles float. Music hums without players. Tents shimmer like illusions. You don't find the market—you get invited by mistake.

Which is exactly what happened to Maki.

🧤 Scene One: The Heist (Almost)

Maki isn't there to buy.

He slips between stalls, eyes wide. Trinkets of bone and breath. Love letters sealed with someone's heartbeat. A snow globe that holds a real thunderstorm.

And then—he sees it.

A ring. Black as ink, carved with a language that hums under his skin.

"Touch it and die," a voice purrs behind him.

Too late. Maki's fingers are already on it.

☠️ Scene Two: Caught

The ring burns. Maki yelps and stumbles back—only to find himself surrounded.

Two vendors.

One with a perfect suit, silk gloves, and a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes (Harua).

The other in layered scarves and bone jewelry, smiling like he knows every one of Maki's secrets (Taki).

Taki: "Congratulations! You've been cursed."

Harua: "And caught."

Maki: "...I would like to go home now."

Taki (gleeful): "Oh, sweetheart. That's not how the Market works."

🧿 Scene Three: The Bargain

"Every stolen item requires a payment," Harua says, examining his gloves like this is all terribly boring.

"But don't worry," Taki grins, "you get to choose what you lose."

"Your name?"
"Your luck?"
"Your ability to dream?"
"We've had people trade their shadows, their singing voices, their memories of first love—"

Maki: "What if I traded something... worse?"

Taki: "Oh?"

Maki: "A favor."

Harua raises an eyebrow.

Taki looks delighted.

"Ooooh. Dangerous."

"Delicious," Harua corrects. "We accept."

🔮 Scene Four: Consequences

The ring stops burning. It slides onto Maki's finger—like it belongs there now.

"You're cursed," Harua says mildly.

"But alive!" Taki adds helpfully. "And interesting."

Maki tries to walk away.

Taki (calling after him): "We'll call in our favor one day!"

Harua: "And you'll say yes. That's the curse."

Maki (under his breath): "I hate this place."

The Market disappears at dawn.

The ring stays.

Somewhere, under the next full moon—
Harua sharpens a knife that hums with promises.
Taki hums a lullaby in reverse.
And Maki wakes with a mark on his palm that wasn't there yesterday.

The Market always collects.

The Favor Comes Due

A year later.

Maki's pretending the Market was a weird fever dream.
Sure, the ring still hums when he lies. Sure, shadows don't cling to him the same. Whatever.

Then a letter arrives.

Sealed in black wax. Smells like smoke and peppermint.

It reads:

Tonight. Full moon. Come dressed in black. Bring no one. You owe us.
– H & T

🌑 Back to the Market

He finds the Market waiting for him. Again.
But this time, it parts when he walks in—like it remembers him.

Taki is already waving from the booth.
Harua doesn't look up. Yet.

"We need a thief," Taki says sweetly. "A very specific one."

"There's an artifact. Dangerous. Protected. Hidden inside a time-locked vault guarded by a sleep-eater and a mirrorhound."

Maki: "...Sounds romantic."

Harua (finally speaking): "It's suicidal."

Taki: "Which is why we picked you."

🗝️ The Job

The job isn't simple.

But Maki's not the same as he was before.

The ring glows in his palm like a key now.

He slips through cracks, unlocks time-stilled doors, and steals something not meant to be touched:
A pocketwatch that ticks backward—and holds the final hour of someone's life.

He doesn't ask whose.

When he returns, Harua takes it with a gloved hand. Taki kisses him on the cheek.

"You did good, darling thief."

"The favor's repaid."

"...For now."

Maki turns to leave, but the ring doesn't vanish.
It stays on his finger, humming gently.

And when he glances back, Harua is watching.
Taki is grinning.

Because once the Market marks you—

You never really leave.

🌕 Scene: After the Third Job

Maki isn't sure when the jobs stopped feeling like repayment and started feeling like routine.

He still grumbles, still calls Taki "unhinged" and Harua "ice prince," but... he's always the first to show up.

And every time he leaves the Market, there's something waiting in his pocket. A silver button. A lucky coin. A note in perfect script: You didn't die. Nice work. – H

🌒 Scene: "Ours"

It's after a heist gone sideways.
Maki's cloak is torn. There's ash on his face. He's limping, and bleeding, and mad.

"You could've warned me there were deathmoths in that vault!"

Taki (grinning): "You're alive. That's our standard for success."

"Your standard sucks!"

Taki (stepping closer, brushing soot off his cheek):
"Relax, ours don't die that easy."

Maki stills.

"Yours?"

Taki just winks. "Didn't say you were mine, love. Said you were ours."

Behind him, Harua doesn't react.

Except... he sets down the ledger he's been pretending to read and walks over with a cloth to clean Maki's hands.

Doesn't say a word.

But his touch is so gentle, it shuts Maki up mid-rant.

🕯️ Scene: One Night in the Booth

They let Maki stay late. After the Market closes.
Taki's humming to himself while refilling vials. Harua is mending a curse-threaded glove. Maki sits cross-legged on a crate, chewing on spiced fruit, quietly watching them.

It's peaceful.

Weirdly peaceful.

Taki notices him staring.

"You know," he says, not looking up, "you're allowed to come by even when you're not cursed."

Maki laughs. "You trying to get me addicted to haunted errands?"

"No," Taki says, suddenly soft. "Just to us."

Harua looks over. Doesn't smile. But his voice is low when he adds:

"You already are."

Maki's chest stutters.

But he doesn't say anything.

He just stays until the candles burn low.

💬 Final Line:

They don't call it love.
Not yet.

But the next time someone calls Maki a loner,
he thinks of gloved hands on his wrist,
of Taki's voice calling him ours,
and of the ring on his finger that hums when he's near them—

And he doesn't correct them.