Archive of Our Own ^beta

It's weird, and annoying, getting used to having only one eye. But it's not, like, a worst case scenario? So you think you're pretty fine with it. You're still... Well, Bonbon is fine. Bonnie is okay.

And you're still around.

You're about... a month? out from Dormont, give or take maybe a week. You held everyone back for far too long, and the curse and growing Sadness population are sure to slow down what would otherwise be a two-week trip at most. You should've been there by now. If that stunt of yours had gone how you'd expected it to, they probably would be.

But you're here, lying awake in bed. You've just left the town you were stuck recovering in, and you're still sort of exhausted, but you can't sleep. It's just not working.

It's the middle of the night. You're staring up at the ceiling of your tent. Your eyelids are uncomfortably dry. You can't sleep. You're exhausted, and you can't blinding sleep, and you—

—hear a rustling outside.

Mirabelle, currently on watch, asks the forest, "Siffrin?"

You sit up.

You shuffle to the entrance flap of your tent and open it and peer out. "Yeah?" you say quietly.

She jumps and whirls her head to look at you—then out to the woods, then back at you, then the woods again. "Um?"

"Something out there?" you ask.

"Um," she says again.

You crawl out of your tent and stand beside her. You peer into the darkness...

You hum. "I don't see anything?"

Mira hums too. "I'll... go check it out." She seems on edge.

"No," you say, "I got it. I wasn't getting any sleep anyway." You smile at her. She smiles back.

You retrieve your dagger from your tent and make your way to the edge of camp, near where Mira was looking. You peer into the darkness again.

You see nothing.

Slowly, you stalk into the trees, dagger and Scissors sign at the ready. It's only once the low campfire light from camp is almost completely out of view that you hear that rustle again. Your gaze shoots toward it. You have to adjust the angle of it to see well.

It's... you. You with inverted shades, but you. Just standing there in the darkness, only visible for its darkless patches where your hair is dyed and your new eyepatch sits.

And it's staring at you.

You suppress a shudder and raise your weapon.

It shakes its head. It steps toward you.

You strike.

...Nothing happens. Nothing happens– What!? You stumble a little, take a step back, surprised. It doesn't react. It doesn't move at all.

"What on Earth, " you mutter.

"Siffrin," says Mirabelle.

You whip your head around—and she's not there.

"Siffrin," says her voice, again, from your left. Where the... thing, is. The Sadness?

You look at it. It's just staring.

"Siffrin," it says, in Mirabelle's voice. "You know why you're here, right?"

"Um?"

"You're not here to protect us. That's not your job. You know that, right?"

You raise your dagger toward it. Your hand isn't shaking, not any more than usual, but you can feel yourself trembling just slightly. But you're not afraid. You say, "What are you? What are you doing?"

"What are you doing?" it repeats, now with your voice. Copies. "What are you doing?"

You strike again. Nothing happens.

"Your job," it says with Odile's voice, "is perception. Your job," it says, "is to see. "

You strike. Nothing happens.

"I don't think I need to point out the issues with that, now."

You strike. Nothing happens. "What are you?" you cry.

" Who are you? " asks your own voice.

"I'm Siffrin!" You strike. "Blind you!" Nothing happens.

It steps forward. You freeze. It reaches up, toward your face, and you cannot breathe or blink or move or anything—and it pulls your eyepatch away from your face and moves it to cover the eye that's still there. Its fingers are cold where they brush your cheek. Freezing.

You are afraid, terrified, for a moment, while you cannot see or move, that you've been frozen in time. If it's a Sadness—some Sadnesses can do that. Freeze people. You've only come across one, a powerful Sadness that would have bested you all if Mirabelle weren't immune to being frozen. You hope hope hope it doesn't head to camp. You hope hope hope it doesn't hurt your friends.

And then you can move again, hardly half a second later, and you take a gasping breath. Your dagger slips from your fingers, but you don't care—you scrabble at your eyepatch and nearly rip it off to see again, and blink uselessly into the dark for a moment.

The thing is gone. The thing is gone.

You swipe your dagger up off the forest floor and spin and dash back to camp. You nearly fall right into the campfire in your haste.

"Mira," you say breathlessly.

She startles. "Siffrin? What–"

"Did it come here?

"Did– What?" She stands. "No, what did you find?"

You lean forward with your hands braced on your thighs to catch your breath. "A– A Sadness, I think?" You laugh weakly. "Didn't seem very sad, though."

Mira clasps her hands and tilts her head worriedly. "Didn't seem very sad?"

You stand up straight and sheathe your dagger. "Well, it wasn't crying? And it spoke."

"It spoke? "

"And–" You swallow, weirdly nervous. "It looked like me?"

"It– What!? " Mira cries.

You nod and open your left hand, revealing your crumpled eyepatch. You straighten it out and put it back on, saying, "It kind of just stood there and said nonsense? I couldn't seem to hurt it."

Now Mira just looks upset. "...You can't hurt your own Sadness."

"Why would I have a Sadness?"

She looks at you. Her eyes flick a little to the right, her right, for a moment.

You smile reassuringly. "We can tell the others in the morning. It'll be fine. It didn't hurt me at all."

She... swallows, and nods. "Okay. We'll talk about it tomorrow."

You go to your tent, and still don't sleep.

You've been blinded. You're not sure of (don't remember) the significance of it, but it's bad. It's a curse. It's... damning.

You suppose this Sadness is your punishment. You hope hope hope it's only here to punish you.

☆

You don't remember falling asleep, but Isabeau tugs at your pillow to wake you up anyways. You grumble as you sit up.

"You really shouldn't sleep with your eyepatch on," he says, "it'll give you a headache."

"I get those all the time, it's fine," you reply dismissively.

He sighs but doesn't say anything more.

You follow him outside into the camp, where everyone else is already awake. You blink a few times, surprised—usually you're up relatively early, early enough to doze against a tree a while before you have to do anything.

"Ah," Mira says, "good morning! I hope you don't mind we let you sleep in... You said last night you were having trouble sleeping, so–!"

You smile and wave her off. "Thanks, Mira."

She smiles back. Then she looks worried again and says, "Um. speaking of last night."

Right.

"Siffrin found a Sadness? And... Um, Siffrin, you describe it!"

You jump a little at the sudden urging, and scramble to come up with what to say. "Uh, well! It didn't try to hurt me at all. It just stood there and, spoke. And it looked like me, and I couldn't do any damage or anything."

Everyone is looking at you.

You open your mouth to say something defensive, but Odile beats you to it; she says, "How similar did it look to you?"

"Uh," you say, "exactly like me? Hair dye and everything."

"And it spoke?" Isa asks. "Like, said words and stuff?"

You nod. "Mostly nonsense about, uh, my job?"

"Do you have a job?" Bonnie asks.

You shake your head.

Odile hums and drums her fingers on her book. "If it's a Sadness, it's either very fresh or very stable."

"Stable?" Mira asks.

"The strength of its source is very consistent, as well as the emotion behind it, lending it a concrete appearance as the person generating those emotions. For instance, a Sadness born of grief." Odile looks at you, and for a very brief moment, makes eye contact. For that very brief moment, you feel impossibly, uncomfortably, seen. You struggle to grasp why. Then she continues, "I assume this Sadness is simply freshly created. We've had a... stressful couple weeks. Siffrin especially."

You smile awkwardly. "I'm fine, though?"

Everyone is looking at you.

...

"I am!"

"Sif," Isa says bluntly, "you just lost a whole eye."

"Yeah! And I'm fine!" You are! It's a little annoying, but you're really just glad no one else was hurt. All things considered, really, one eye is such a small sacrifice for something as big as companionship. You would give up so much more.

You're glad, also, that you can feel like you've earned it.

"I'm fine," you say again, as if repeating it thrice will make it truer.

...They don't believe you. You don't know what to do to make them believe. You aren't lying, really, you aren't! So what's the problem? What do you have to fix?

You are, something whispers into your mind. You.

Everyone is staring... behind you.

You feel hands on your shoulders. Cold hands. You flinch violently, but the hands stay firm. The cold seeps through your underclothes; you curse yourself for not putting on your cloak before leaving the tent.

Odile stands and angles her book so it falls open in her hand. But she doesn't make a move to attack—you can't see the Sadness, but it must be using you as a shield of sorts.

"It's all you're good for now," it whispers from your left. You don't feel any breath brush your ear. The thing might as well not be there at all.

Rock Craft crashes by and into it, and the hands creeping on your neck disappear. Your ear rings. Your ear rings. You stagger forward as if those hands were carrying half your weight, and Isabeau catches you with a solid hand on your chest. As soon as you're standing steady again, his hand is retracted. Your chest aches.

Your hands come up to touch the junctions where shoulders meet neck, where the cold lingers like a ghost.

"Siffrin," Odile says.

Isa hums quietly. "Sif, that—"

"What was that? " Odile asks a bit sharply.

"—didn't exactly scream fine to me," he finishes, giving Odile a look.

You lower your hands and grin. "It's not like it was going to hurt me!"

"It had its hands on your neck," Mira says timidly.

Yeah, but– You, you just know. It wasn't going to hurt you. Not in front of them. Your shaky smile drops. "It was just trying to scare me!" you insist.

Bonnie speaks up, says, "Why are you defending it?"

"I– I'm not– I'm defending myself! I'm fine! It was fine!"

"It's a crabbing Sadness! Why are you always saying you're fine!?" they cry. "You're not! You lost your whole crabbing eye and you said it's fine but it's not! "

...You blink.

But it is. It is fine. Bonnie is okay, and that was your goal, so your eye doesn't really matter? One non-essential organ versus a whole living, breathing person is a pretty obvious choice. You versus a child with so much life to live is a pretty obvious choice too. You think anyone would put the kid before themself. That's just how people are. Why would it be different when it's you?

"You're what matters," you say.

They stare at you. Glare, more like—they're so angry. Why? What changed?

...

Nobody speaks up. So you point back at your tent and say, "...I'm gonna get ready," and go.

Stars. Stars—as soon as you close the tent flap behind you it's like you can't breathe, and you curse through it. You're panicking. You haven't panicked like this in ages.

You have to stay quiet. It's, it's kind of embarrassing to be overheard freaking out over nothing, isn't it? And that was nothing. It didn't do anything to you. Why are you so scared?

You're fine. There's no reason you shouldn't be. So you are.

☆

It's been a while since you last saw it. The Sadness.

Everyone keeps asking how you're doing. How you're feeling, if anything is bothering you... They seem to be getting less and less satisfied with your short answer of "I'm fine," even though it's true. It's... You won't deny it's frustrating. You just also would never say that to anyone's face.

You're doing a lot of walking today. Which means you have a lot of time to think—traveling with a group means it's less vital to pay complete attention to your surroundings at all times, so you can get away with not being totally zoned in on long stretches like this. You feel kinda spoiled for it, if you're honest! You might be getting complacent, hehe.

When Mira falls into step beside you, you're not really surprised. You smile absently; it's nice to walk with her!

"...Siffrin?" she starts.

She looks anxious. "Yeah?"

"Um... Are you okay, following me around on this journey? I– I feel? Kind of, like I'm forcing you all to... join me on a hopeless quest." She mutters the last part. You frown.

Oh– You have an answer for this, actually! You smile, and say, easily and truthfully, "Traveling with you all has been the happiest I can remember being."

...

You blinded it. She's frowning, she doesn't look at all put at ease—you blinded it.

You stutter out, "S-sorry," and look away.

Ah, Sun blind you, do you ever think before you speak? Her country, her life is at stake, and the lives of so many others, and here you are talking about your own happiness like that makes it all worth it.

"Th– Siffrin, what about your Sadness?" she asks quietly.

You blink. You look at her again. "What about it?"

She stares at you. You feel... ...strange? She looks, concerned.

And, you get why. Someone having a Sadness is reason for concern. But you aren't sad. You just said so—you just said how happy you are.

Mira sighs, smiles, and says, "Nevermind. It's nothing."

You're left feeling unsettled, unsteady. The feeling follows you through the rest of the day.

...Something follows you through the rest of the day.

☆

After dinner Mira cries. It's getting to her again, all this responsibility. It's partially your fault, for sure—after that thing you said earlier? It's no wonder she's anxious now. You wish you hadn't said anything at all.

You sit with your chin in your hand as Mira and Isa and Bonnie hug each other. (You kind of wish you were there. You don't think about it.) You watch with a content smile...

...Something brushes past you. You sit up, watch the dark shape approach your friends—

"Group hug!" says Isa's voice, and you know it was not him who spoke.

Everyone jolts. Everyone freezes.

The Sadness stands there. It lifts both arms, holds them out like it's asking for a hug. It makes no other moves.

Bonnie asks, "...Does it wanna hug?"

"Is. Is it trying to trick us?" Mira asks.

"Sadnesses aren't smart enough to backstab, I'm pretty sure," Isa says.

Odile nods in your periphery. "They don't think ahead. They only lash out."

This one doesn't seem to be doing much lashing out.

Bonnies hmph s thoughtfully. "Well," they say, "it is sad. Maybe it needs a hug."

And they wriggle out of the group hug and wrap their arms around your twisted inversion. It says, "Group hug!" again, in Bonnie's voice this time, and returns the hug.

It's clumsy. It clearly doesn't know how to hug.

All you can do is stare. Something writhes in your gut, something that wants to escape—like nausea and sickness, but strung tight and trembling and hot enough to feel cold or cold enough to feel hot. It's a feeling you've met countless times, and always refuse to stop and chat with.

You're jealous. You're jealous of your own blinding Sadness. It waltzed right into your camp like it isn't something awful made of everything wrong with you and– and it, wretched inhuman thing that it is, has the guts that you never did. And it's spilling them all over.

Everyone but the kid seems casually horrified. Whether that's because it's you or because it's a Sadness, you'll never bring yourself to ask.

And then Isa smiles, with his anxiety carefully masked, and holds out one arm in invitation. Mira steps back from the hug, rightfully too unnerved to touch the thing. The Sadness stares for a moment, then dives into Isa's open arms and latches onto him like a leech.

You swallow. Isa wraps his arms around it carefully. His smile loosens, anxiety morphing into something else, still hidden.

You swallow again. There's a stubborn bile-flavored lump in your throat. You cannot tear your eyes away.

Bonnie goes and joins the hug again. Mira still doesn't. You don't know which...

You...

Why do you feel this way? Why is the Sadness doing this? What's wrong with you? What's going on? You wish the blinded thing would go. You wish it would leave you alone. You wish... you had candles. That... You don't get it.

You smile and laugh. "This is weird."

The Sadness's head turns to look at you. It... A human neck shouldn't be able to turn that far. It looks so very wrong. It looks like Isa is holding your broken body. "You're weird," it says in Bonnie's voice.

Bonnie cackles.

"If I'm weird," you say, "you're weirder."

It laughs in a voice you don't... recognize. Hearty and warm and home. "You wound me," it says in that same voice. "You'll be the death of me someday."

That–

...means nothing. What did it say, again?

It leans its head on Isa's chest. It uses his voice to say, "You can't have your cake."

"Duh," Bonnie says, "I didn't make cake. You can't make cake in a pan. Unless it's a pancake."

"Stupid," it says in Bonnie's voice. It giggles. "You're so blind. "

"Hey now," Isa says.

"It's fine," you say quickly.

"It's fine," it parrots.

Bonnie's face scrunches up. They don't say anything.

Isa frowns. He lets the Sadness go and steps back, and it stumbles forward and stubbornly does not let go.

"Repulsive," it says lowly in his voice.

Isa presses his lips together in a line and tries to push the Sadness away by its shoulders—and as soon as he does it screams, ear-shattering and painful, like it's putting so much into the sound that its throat is tearing up.

Isa's hands fly up off its shoulders and over his ears. It stops.

You swallow your heart down and breathe. "Get– Get rid of it."

Odile nods. She says, "Cover your ears," and stalks forward and grabs it by the back of the collar and drags it away from Isa. It screams as it did before but does not fight.

When it's thrown into the bushes, you hear it hiss, "Repulsive," and then it is silent.

"...I'm going to bed," you say. "Uh. Night." And then you turn tail and flee into the safety of your tent.

When Isa comes to bed, you pretend to be asleep. You don't really get any.

You need to apologize to Mira in the morning.

☆

Breakfast is sort of awkward. Bonnie makes pancakes. Nobody brings it up.

Until Odile says, "Siffrin."

You jump. You stuff the small pancake you're holding into your mouth and look at her and go, "Hm?" through it.

"Care to... enlighten us, on what last night was about?"

Ah. Stars. You swallow. "I, uh, dunno?" You look away. "It was weird to me, too." You never minded not being part of group hugs much. It... It's all fine. You don't know why the Sadness was making such a big deal out of it.

Isa smiles like you made a weird joke that doesn't make any sense and he's worried you're losing your mind, or something. "Do you... know what it was talking about? At any point?"

You shrug.

"Wh-why was it screaming?" Mira asks.

You shrug again and shrink into yourself. "Can't have your cake," you mutter.

"What's that mean?" Bonnie asks.

You straighten a little. "It's– It's a saying, I think. Can't have your cake and eat it too? It means, um..."

"You can't save something and use it at the same time," Isa finishes for you. "If you're too afraid of wasting something, you'll never do anything with it at all."

You nod.

Bonnie hums, short but thoughtful. "So what'd it mean when it said that?"

...

You hunch again. "I'm just not good at keeping things, I guess." You try to keep your tone light. You're not sure you succeed.

...You feel everyone staring at you. You shrink further and pull your hat down a little. You're not used to this much attention, it's weird!

"Siffrin," Mira finally says, hesitant and a little quiet, "do you... mind being touched? Um, like, physical contact? With another person?"

You blink at the ground you've been staring at. "Uh. N-no, I'm just, uh, not used to it?" You look up. They all... look like you just told them that the rabbit they caught and ate for dinner was actually your daughter's beloved pet that went missing. Which has never happened to you. Just the first thing that came to mind. "Why?"

Isa purses his lips and crosses his arms. "Crab."

"What?" you ask. Did, did you do something? Was that weird to say? Was there a right answer, and that wasn't it?

"We were kinda... under the impression," he says, "that you didn't like touch? At all?"

You blink. "Oh. What? Why?"

"Y-you flinch," Mira says, and trails off a little.

...Oh.

Oh! Well, that solves that, you guess! You tilt your hat back to normal and smile. You guess you can thank the Sadness for fixing that misunderstanding! Even if its methods were, ah... uncomfortable at best. Very, forward. And scream-y.

You say. "You can touch me whenever. O-or not, you don't have to–" Ah, stars, stupid thing to say–

But, Isa beams and Mira smiles and– and Isa asks, "Can I hug you right now?"

You feel... warm. You nod. "If, you want to?"

You're about to clarify, repeat that he doesn't have to, when he gets up and sits closer to you and opens his arms. You stare at his chest blankly.

"Whenever you're ready," he says gently.

You don't have anything to say to that. You awkwardly shuffle closer. What are you supposed to do? You don't, remember. Ever having hugged anyone.

So you just nod and hope he takes the lead.

He does. His arms close around you and he holds you against his body loosely, and you flinch and you flinch closer. You suddenly feel immensely self-conscious—you're doing this in front of everyone, and you have no idea how to hug! Everybody knows how to hug! You're just stupid and nobody's ever wanted to hug you before!

You can hardly breathe. Every point of contact is so much, hot like you're engulfed in fire but soothing still. So warm, in a way you could sink into forever and never leave, but is extremely overwhelming all the same. You can hardly breathe. You don't want it to end but you're choking. If you die here, you would be okay with that. It would be worth it. It would be especially worth it if Isa really did want this, and isn't just doing it because he felt bad.

You wish he would hold you tighter. You wish he would never let go. You wish you could—would, even—die like this.

But then it's gone. It's gone, and you feel bare and empty. And Isa is saying, "Woah, hey, Sif, breathe." And you realize you're heaving breaths like a dehydrated child gulps down water, and tears are tracing their way down your cheeks. And you feel hot hot hot but cold cold cold, like your inside and outside don't match, like a fever.

"Breathe," he says again, and you breathe.

In... and out... In... and... out. And in. And out.

"S-sorry," you force out shakily. All of you is shaking, actually, your body is trembling like it's terrified and weak.

"Sif," Isa says, "you don't have to apologize. I'm sorry, I didn't realize how overwhelmed you were getting."

"'S not your fault."

"...Crab," he breathes.

You breathe in, and out. You sniff. "It was really g-good."

"Yeah?"

You nod. "Ev-ven the bad parts. That was okay. Worth it." You laugh, wiping your face with your sleeve.

"...Yeah?"

You nod again.

He sighs. "You needed that, huh."

"I, I wouldn't say needed, but– But." But now that you know what it's like, it does feel like you need it. You need to burrow back into him. You need to feel that with all your friends.

"I'm sorry," Isa says.

You finally look up at him. At his face—which looks, so sad. Did you do that? Is that your fault? "What? I said it was good."

"No." Isa shakes his head. "I'm sorry we just assumed instead of... asking. Or inviting you. Or– Or something. "

"Oh. It's okay." You don't mind, or blame them. You didn't ask either. And anyway, it's weird, that you're reacting like this. Acting like this.

Isa doesn't say anything.

You sniff loudly. Gross. "Sorry, um, about last night. That was weird. Sorry."

Isa laughs lightly, puts a hand on your shoulder. "It's not like you can control your Sadness. But, hey, maybe that's why it was here, yeah? It might not come back!"

You nod. Right. "Maybe!" Oh– You turn to Mira. "And, uh, Mira?"

She jumps a little, fond expression shifting into mild surprise. "Yeah?"

"I'm sorry it, um, stole the show?" You laugh.

She tilts her head, presses her lips together, and... exhales, and nods, and smiles. "It's okay! I already got my hug!"

Bonnie gasps. "We should all group hug. Even Dile."

Odile snorts. "I'll have to decline, as usual. Sorry."

Just her preference. It's okay.

You smile. Sniff again. You want to hug Isa again, but that... would be asking too much. Taking too much.

So you just say, "Thank you."

☆

You're in town. Second to last stop before Dormont. You really hope you didn't lead that Sadness here, that Isa was right about it leaving you alone now. It hasn't bothered you in the couple days since it last showed up.

You've been pulled into every group hug in that time, and there have been more than usual. They've also been shorter than usual—everyone is very careful to make sure you don't get overwhelmed again, no matter how much you insist that it's fine. And you get a lot of individual hugs, too! Even one from Odile!

It's weird. You sort of want to be overwhelmed? It's not like it's a good feeling, really, and it makes your skin crawl and crawl and crawl, but...

You dunno. It's weird. You're weird. And that's gross.

...

It's nice to sleep in a bed, for a change. You can sleep anywhere, and have for a long time, so you can do without the luxury—but it is a luxury, and one you'll gladly take.

And you're sharing with Isa, as usual. But this time he lays his hand down between you and looks meaningfully at your hands where they're curled together in front of your chest. So you smile, and take the invitation—and you put a hand in his and settle in to fall asleep. His hand kind of dwarfs yours. You feel... safe. Warm.

...

...And then you open your eyes to complete darkness. You blink. You're lying on your back now, looking up at the ceiling, and your arm is wrapped around Isa's. His hand is on your shoulder, his forearm resting against your upper arm; your forearm lays on top of his, down in the crook of his elbow. When you glance to your right, the vague shape of him moves only to breathe.

You look to the end of the bed. There, there is the vague shape of you. With a bright darkless eye and eyepatch, it stares down at you. It does not move at all. It only... stares.

It doesn't blink. It doesn't breathe. It only stares.

In what can barely count as a whisper, Isa's voice says, "Haven't you noticed? I can only stand touching you for more than a minute when I'm asleep. And you're just happy to be touched at all."

It laughs in your voice.

In Isa's, it continues. "It's a little pathetic. Haven't you noticed? Or are you stupider than me? "

Isa's not stupid. He mostly plays it up for laughs, you think. But you're not very good at reading people. You might be wrong.

You might be stupid.

...Ha. You are. You're definitely stupider than Isabeau. He somehow manages to see more than you, even though–

"Your job is to see things," says Odile's voice. "And yet... you haven't seen how we're all so uncomfortable, trying to make you comfortable. It's not worth it, in my opinion." She– It laughs, once, short and dry. "But the others won't listen, they're all so... guilty. You're guilting them. It makes me sick."

...

It leans forward over the bedframe. You glance at Isa—still fast asleep. You try to glance to the left at everyone else, but you can't, your left eye doesn't see, and you can't move your head, you can't– You can't move anything.

Bonnie's voice sighs. "You're so pathetic. You couldn't even save me without creating a new lee-uh-bulity. And now you can't do what you're s'posed to. You got used up, and you're not useful anymore. We shoulda left you at the last House when you were healing." They, their voice sniffs. "Why are you even here at all? Do you even care? You're just using us, aren't you?"

No, no, you do care! Of course you care! You care enough to sacrifice yourself–

"But Siffrin," Mira's voice begins, "if you really cared, you wouldn't be so sloppy. Right? You should be... better than this."

You're crying. Hah, stars, you're so– You really are pathetic! You're sorry! "I'm sorry," you whisper breathlessly.

"Are you? Or are you just saying that?" Her voice shakes.

It crawls up onto the bed.

"You're so selfish. You don't even care how we feel."

It comes closer, until it's looming over you, and you can feel how cold it is through the blankets–

"You just want to keep us forever, to use us. We should have gotten rid of you when we still could."

You sob.

"You should have just let that thing kill you," it hisses. "Maybe then you'd be worth remembering. "

You sob.

It's far too loud for the middle of the night, you know, but you can't– you can't help it, can't hold it. Pathetic. You're pathetic, and awful, and it's right, it's right–

"Sif?" says Isa's voice, sleep-heavy and on your right.

You sob again. You don't want to hear more, you can't hear more, you know, you know! You get it–!

"Oh, crab! "

Rock Craft cracks above you, and your face on the thing disappears. The mattress shakes, something crashes. Isa's arm is gone from your hold. All you can think is of course.

You hear Craft again. Someone makes a sound, then there's Craft again. And all you can think is of course he's gone.

And then... Something touches your face, so gently it hurts, and when you blink the tears from your eyes, Isa is looking back.

"Sif?" he says, so gently it hurts. He sounds so concerned. He looks so worried.

All you can say is, "Nng-hh." Another sob rips through you. It feels like something bejng ejected from your soul.

"Oh, Siffrin..." he breathes, and holds your face in one hand like it's something valuable.

You lean into it. You shouldn't. You can't help but accept the comfort.

You wish he would lay down and hold you, and you could hold him.

He does. You latch on immediately, and you cry, nearly wail, into his chest.

You're awful for this. Making them deal with your mess. Making them wake up in the middle of the night for it, at that, and comfort you too. This is all your own fault. You can't be upset if it's your own fault.

You should have just let that thing kill you. You should have died a long time ago. You're too blinding stubborn for the good of everyone you've ever met. For the good of everyone who's had the misfortune of meeting you.

Hahh, stars. You're good for just nothing.

"Ssorry," you say.

Isa rolls onto his back and pulls you over a little onto him. He holds you so close, and he says, "Don't apologize, it's okay." It feels so nice, how his chest rumbles against you. You can hear his heartbeat.

"'S not, though," you insist. You turn your hips away for a better angle to cling to him anyway. You should explain, explain just how bad you are for them all, but you can't. You... really are selfish.

You really are selfish.

So when he gently shushes you, you listen, and you let him rub your back, and you fall back to sleep listening to his heart.

☆

You wake up sluggishly. And you wake up warm. Your arms are wrapped around something, and your face smushed against it, and it's warm too.

You open your eyes to gentle light. You find... the thing you're holding is Isa's forearm. Your cheek is settled in his palm.

You feel warm.

...

You... had a nightmare. You hope it was a nightmare. You hope–

"G'morning, Sif," says Isa. You'd startle, if you weren't still half-asleep. "How are you?"

You look up at him. He looks so fond. You feel strangely sick. "Mmng?" you grumble softly in lieu of proper words.

He laughs a little. "Yeah?"

You grumble some more and nuzzle into his hand. His thumb rubs your cheekbone. Feels nice. You sigh.

"Better than before, huh?" He shifts a little, you can feel by how the mattress shakes and dips. "Do you... remember? Last night?"

You freeze.

You'd hoped it was a nightmare.

"With... the Sadness..?" he continues.

It was not a nightmare.

You shudder against your will, and shut your eyes tight and hide in his hand.

"Oh, Sif," he says. He's very quiet when he says it, like he might scare you away if he's too loud.

You whine a little.

"Are you feeling alright?"

You whine again, this time with your lips parted. You don't want to talk about it. You don't want to think about it. You want to pretend it never happened and just go on as normal.

Because you're selfish.

"Sif..? What happened? What's up?"

As soon as you get out of this bed you can start pretending. You don't want to. You want to stay here forever and you want to not talk about it and! You wish this stupid blinding Sadness never showed up in the first place! You had a good thing and it's ruining it!

You had a good thing and it's... telling you the truth. It's just making you face that. It's just asking you to come to terms with reality.

"I'm sorry," you whisper. "I should be better than this."

There's a little moment of silence. Then Isa says, "Well, I forgive you! I forgive you for feeling bad and not being absolutely perfect." He says it firmly, as if to leave no room for argument. "And, actually, there's no such thing as perfect. So you don't even need to worry about that!"

You exhale. You... You want to repeat some of the things it said to you. You want to hear Isa reassure you. You want to hear his disgust. You... don't want to burden him with your problems. You've already done it enough, with the Sadness existing at all.

You settle with, "I don't want to talk about it."

...

"Sif," Isa says. "Can you look at me?"

You open your eyes and you do. He looks serious.

"Normally... I would let this go. I know you don't want to talk about it. I want to respect that. But this is a Sadness, and last night it got into our room and it– it–" He pauses. He swallows. "It scared me," he says, "it looked like it was going to– to kill you."

"It wasn't hurting me," you correct quickly.

"Thank Change for that," he says. "But, um. I'm worried about you. Cases where Sadnesses are that... direct..."

He trails off, doesn't make eye contact. Funny, when he asked you to look at him. You don't say anything.

But then he sighs shortly, and says, "We want to help you, Sif." He's looking at you again. And he's so earnest. "Not just because we don't want a Sadness hanging around—because you're our friend! We l-like you!"

Friend...

"I'm your friend," you murmur.

Isa nods.

"You're not just... saying that?"

"Of course not. We're all friends. It– it would be weird if we weren't, right?" He laughs a little. It's kind of awkward. "We've been traveling together on this big quest for ages."

"Oh," you say. "Do you want to be friends with me, though?"

"Uh, yeah?"

You stare at him.

"Of course I do," he continues, "you're great! And funny, a-and– um, cool, and... nice to talk to...?"

His face is really dark, suddenly. Is he embarrassed? He... must be embarrassed to like you. You get it. You'd be embarrassed to like you, too.

He clears his throat. "Sorry. You were looking at me really intensely, I got stage fright!"

Oh. You quickly avert your eyes and stare at his chin instead.

"I... I mean it, though. You really are great, and funny, and cool. I like being friends with you. And I want to help you!"

Right.

You close your eyes again.

"Please?" he asks, before your thoughts can even get started.

You breathe in. You breathe out... "You shouldn't want to be friends with me." You won't be good at it. You've never... done it before.

...

"Is that what it was telling you?" Isa almost-whispers.

......

"Should've j's' let it kill me," you mumble, barely audible.

Isa hears you anyway. "Sif?!?" he exclaims quietly, and you feel his hand tense under you.

You shouldn't have said that. Stars. Mnng, stars. "Th-that– It said that to me. That's something it said."

His thumb rubs your cheek. "That doesn't really make it better. "

You squeeze your eyes shut tighter. "Sorry."

...

"...Sif," he says very carefully, "I'm going to ask you something, and I need you to tell the truth, okay?"

You. Nod.

"Do you think about killing yourself?"

You jolt, and your eyes fly open. You shake your head. "N-no, why would I– I wouldn't just abandon you like that!"

He doesn't look relieved. "I'm... not asking if you would do it. I'm asking if you ever think about doing it."

You don't... think so? No, you just...

...

You shake your head.

He still doesn't seem satisfied. "Think about it for a moment," he says. "Kill– Killing yourself. Or, just dying in general, even. Is it appealing? Even a little?"

You think about it. Killing yourself. Dying. If something else killed you, and you had time to form an opinion about it, you think you'd be okay with it. If embarrassed. If you died for someone, to protect someone... for one of your friends... you'd be okay with that. You'd be more than okay with it, actually.

"I would have died to protect Bonnie," you say quietly.

Isa relaxes a little, and says, "We all would."

"I should have died to protect them," you say quieter.

And he stiffens again. "Should have?" he repeats, voice thin.

"I wish I did," you say. "Wish I'd quit while I was ahead."

You don't know why you're saying this. You don't know where it's coming from. You shouldn't even be thinking it, much less speaking it—it's as if it's coming from the depths of your soul, or something just as cheesy and unreachable.

You blink harshly. And then pull the blanket over your head, and say, "Sorry."

He holds it up from your face to look at you. "You... What do you mean?"

...How do you even start?

...

"You wouldn't have to deal with me anymore," you mumble. "And I'd have died doing something good." In a whisper, surely nearly too quiet to be heard, you add on, "So maybe someone would remember me."

Isa doesn't have anything to say to that.

You sigh and sit up and stretch and breathe, and you're fine. And you're fine. Isa sits up after you, and you kind of ignore him but it's fine.

"I like having you around," he says. "I'll remember you."

...

"Oh," you say. You feel warm.

☆

They have the Sadness tied to a chair in a rented day room. It's sitting perfectly still, its single wide eye trained intensely on you. You... kind of had expected they'd just kill it? But apparently not.

"Why... do you have it tied up?" you ask, breaking the long silence that had settled over the room with your entrance.

"For a few reasons," Odile says. "Chiefly that if we do defeat it without solving the root issue, it will reform eventually, and likely sooner than later. Secondly, it seems quite strong. I'd rather not waste energy fighting it when that would only delay it for a short time. Thirdly..."

"It looks like you and that feels weird?" Mira finishes.

You blink. The thing does not.

"I've never seen a Sadness that so exactly resembles its originator," Odile says.

Isabeau nods beside you. He says, "Yeah, I wouldn't really enjoy hurting anything that looks like someone I care about."

Someone he cares about...

"Stop making everything about you," it hisses.

"SHUT UP!" Bonnie yells. A ladle flies from the left side of the room and hits it square in the face. It doesn't react even a little.

You flinch, though. Looks like Bonnie doesn't have the same reservations as the others, haha!

"Think about it," it says in Isa's voice, a perfect copy of his earlier words. "Isn't it appealing?"

"I-isn't what appealing?" Mira asks.

Isa shifts in the corner of your vision.

It stares at you.

...

"N-nothing," you say.

"Nothing," it echoes. "Isn't it appealing!"

Isa shifts again. "Hey," he says warningly.

There's a bowl of fruit on a table to the side. You take a banana and hold it up. "Not really, but this is!"

"Liar," it says immediately, almost before you're even done speaking. "Liar, manipulative–"

" Hey, " Isa repeats.

You laugh. You can tell it's strained, but you hope nobody else can. "What, I'm not allowed to joke anymore?"

"Read the room," it says in Bonnie's voice.

Bonnie yells, again, "Stop saying things like you're me!"

"This hurts to watch," it says in Isa's voice.

"You should be better than this," it says in Mira's.

The door behind you is shut. Your hands are shaking under your cloak, so badly that if you tried to grab the doorknob you'd be fumbling. You shouldn't leave anyway—that's, that's too much. Too cowardly. This shouldn't be bothering you so much, because you're fine!

"We're only here because you're selfish," it says. In your own voice. " You're only here because you're selfish."

Your back hits the door.

Everyone's attention turns directly onto you when the door thunks in its frame. Haha, you feel frozen!

"You should have just let that thing kill you," it hisses. "Maybe then you'd be worth remembering. "

Just like before.

This time, though, it isn't the middle of the night, and everyone is here and listening, and—and so now you're just scared, mostly. It still hurts but you can handle the hurt, but you can't handle– you can't handle your friends hearing these horrible truths.

You send Scissor Craft flying at it, not even bothering to take out your dagger. It doesn't react. It isn't hurt at all. You're hyperventilating and you can't bring yourself to stop. Isa is close to you, and behind him you see Bonnie's pan hit the thing in the face. The door opens behind you and you fall through it and suddenly, you're in the hallway, supported in Isa's arms.

He's helping you sit against the opposite wall. He's saying, "You're okay, Sif, you're okay. Breathe—follow me, 'kay?"

You nod. You follow his lead. He holds longer than you're used to doing, the rhythm is different, but that's almost... helpful? Something to focus on.

"Crab," he swears once you're breathing steady, "I'm sorry, Sif."

"You don't need to apologize," you say. You're not really sure what he's apologizing for.

He doesn't seem happy about that, weirdly. "I knew you were probably still shaken from last night, even if you always seem immune to being shaken by anything, and I still brought you in the same room as that thing. I really should apologize!" he says.

You stare at him. You, haha, don't know what to make of all that? You try to smile reassuringly. "I'm fine, though."

"Sif," he says, and looks at you all serious and stern like you're in trouble? Um? Oh no. "You were just having a panic attack. And tell me if I'm wrong, but it seemed to me like your Sadness was trying to goad you into killing yourself. " His hands tighten around your upper arms. " Stop trying to tell me you're fine!"

...

You don't have a good response. You just, don't want to be having this conversation anymore. You want to go back to normal. Before this stupid thing showed up.

Isa closes his eyes and sighs. "I'm sorry." His grip relaxes, and he rubs your arms instead. "I got worked up. I'm just, worried, y'know?" He opens his eyes and looks at you. "I'm worried about you."

"Y-you don't have to be," you say finally. "You don't have to worry about me. I'm, I really wouldn't ever abandon you guys."

"I don't care about you abandoning us, I care about you dying. "

You frown. "That's the same thing."

...

Isa sits back on his heels, closes his eyes, and sighs. He laughs a little. "I. Don't get you."

"S...orry? Sorry."

"Don't–" He sighs again. Then he opens his eyes, and really looks at you, and– The door opens behind him.

Mira comes out. She asks, "Is Siffrin okay?"

You say, "Yeah!"

Isa says, "No."

You pout.

Isa looks up at her, and she kneels beside you both. He says to her, kind of quietly, kind of like it's a secret, "I think Siffrin is suicidal."

"I'm not," you insist over Mira's gasp. "I've never thought about that. I just–"

Isa looks at you. "You told me earlier you 'wish you'd quit while you were ahead.' That sounds–" He pauses, then continues more softly, "That sounds suicidal to me."

"I–! I just meant–!"

...You don't have any good defense. But, he can't be right. Right? You're fine.

"But I'm fine," you say.

"Siffrin..." Mira says. Then under her breath. she says, "Isn't it appealing..."

You flinch. "It's not, " you insist, "I wouldn't ever want to leave you, I just–" You're just, less important than everything else. And you don't– Oh, stars, you really don't want to think about once this journey ends. You wouldn't ever want to leave them. You... Haha, all this worry might be justified after that! Hah...

Ah...

But you're fine right now. You're not going to do anything right now, when it matters.

"I wouldn't ever want to leave you," you repeat. "You're more important than me. Objectively. I was being selfish."

Mira shuffles closer and very gently cups your face in her hand. "But you keep making this about us."

"...Am I?" You're just talking about yourself.

Isa nods.

"You're the one with a Sadness like that," Mira continues. "You're sad. It's not selfish to be feeling that!"

...

"Isn't it, though?"

She and Isa both stare at you. "What?"

"I, I mean! The Curse, and... I don't even live here, so I don't really have any stakes? It– It matters to me, I mean, but– Mira's problems are so much bigger than mine—I should be able to be fine if she is, right?"

They both stare at you more.

...

Mira hugs you. Isa joins after hardly a moment. You can hear one of them sniffling? What is going on?

...It's a nice hug. Even if you're all on the floor, and the floor of a random hallway in an inn, at that. After everything that's happened this morning (and last night), it's really nice to just be... held. By your friends. You wish you could just do this forever instead of talking.

But eventually, they both pull back. And Mira says, "Siffrin, I'm not fine. Have you seen me?" She giggles a little. It's not as bright as usual, not at all. You can't blame her. "But even if I was, that doesn't mean it's! Selfish! For you to feel bad! And that abso lutely doesn't mean you should hide away all your feelings and ignore them! I ask for help all the time," she says, "and I... I don't think I've ever seen you ask for help?"

...Oh. Oh. You messed up! "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to make you feel, alone?"

They both stare at you, again.

"I... feel like you're missing my point willfully?" she says. "Why are you so opposed to being cared for?"

You blink a couple times. "What?"

Isa shifts in place and tilts his head. "Sif, what do you think the point of this conversation is?"

"Calm me down so we can take care of the Sadness?" Obviously? That's only logical, right? "Which is my fault. Sorry."

Mira's hands hover over your shoulders and shake. She looks. Kind of like she wants to wring your neck.

You shrink back and say again, "I'm sorry!"

She pulls her hands back and buries her face in them. Isa puts a hand on her back. He says, "This conversation—it's a feelings talk!—is part of taking care of the Sadness. Also, we want to make sure you're okay? And help you? Because we're friends?"

He says it like it's obvious.

And you guess it is. You like helping your friends, you like being useful! If someone else here was... If you thought someone else wanted to die, you'd be really worried about them! You'd want to help them feel better!

But.

You're fine. You are. You feel fine.

"I am okay," you say. "I'm happy with you guys."

Mira lowers her hands to peek over them. "You said... a bit ago... that this journey has been the happiest you've ever been," she says slowly.

You cringe. "Sorry. That was thoughtless to say."

She frowns deeply. Isa looks genuinely upset to hear it too. Your shoulders hike up to your ears. "So..." Mira starts, hands clasped under her chin. "Were you happy before joining us?"

...

You shrug. What kind of question is that?

She tilts her head.

You say, "I was fine? I guess? I didn't really have anything going on."

"Was there anything you were trying to accomplish?" Isa asks. "Any goals? Destinations? People?"

You shake your head. "Just traveling."

"Where?"

You shrug. "Just traveling," you say again.

Mira's hands approach her mouth. You keep an eye on that, to make sure she doesn't start biting her nails. She says, "Do you have any plans for after this?"

Ah, your chest feels tight... You shake your head. "I dunno. I guess... I'll just go back to just traveling." Not really much else to do. You've been avoiding thinking about it.

"That's so vague, " Isa mutters. Normally, he says, "That's it? Not gonna go... visit anyone?"

You raise your chin and smile. "I'll visit you. If you want."

"Oh–" He smiles back. "I'd like that." Then his smile falls again. "But that's... not really what I was asking."

"Oh."

"I mean, do you have anything you want? Anything to..."

...?

"...Anything to stay for?"

Well, he just gave you one. Easy question! "Visiting you."

"Not in Vaugarde specifically. Just in general."

"...Visiting you."

"That's it?" Mira asks.

"N-no," you stutter, but you have nothing to follow it with.

Isa deflates, and his hand falls onto your knee. "That's it... Sif, do you even have anywhere to go? A home, or some thing?"

...You shake your head.

"Change."

"I'm a traveler," you say quietly. "I don't put down roots. I don't have roots to put down."

"So when you said you joined us because you had nothing better to do... was that true?" Mira asks.

You nod. "I've been doing that as long as I can remember. Probably longer. It's fine."

As far as you know, you just appeared one day on a beach and started walking. If you don't know what there is to miss, you're not really missing anything, right?

"And how long is that?" Mira asks.

You look up at the ceiling and think. "I dunno, a decade maybe? Around that. Between ten and fifteen."

"You're in your mid twenties, right?" Isa asks.

You shrug. "Probably."

"So you were a kid."

You nod.

"And someone left you alone, homeless, and an amnesiac?"

You... shrug.

Isa slides his hands over his face and says, muffled, "I think I'm seeing where that Sadness came from."

You smile a little, and you know it's obviously strained this time and you don't care. "I'm fine, though." You're telling the truth. None of the things coming to light themselves are fine, you get that by now, but you! Feel fine! So you must be!

"Stop saying that."

"But–"

He pulls his hands down to reveal his eyes, and looks directly at yours. "Sif. You don't have to keep pretending."

You look away nervously. "I'm not pretending, though. I really feel fine."

" Feeling fine and being fine," Mira says, "are two different things. You have a Sadness! That's proof enough, I think?"

Stars, you almost forgot about the blinded thing. You take a deep breath and look down at your lap. You don't say anything. You don't think there's anything left to say. Not like they can magically fix your living situation, or your past, or your lack of substance.

"Sif?" Isa says.

You look up. One of his hands are hovering by your shoulder now. He's not touching you.

But he smiles reassuringly, and says, "Since you don't have anything going on after all this... Do you want to come back to Jouvente with me?"

You stare. And then you nod really fast, embarrassingly—but you don't care. You want to stay with him! He wants you to stay with him! You could cry! You could also pick apart his motivations but you're not going to look a gift horse in the mouth! You get to stay with him! You want to stay with them all, but this is already far more than you expected!

Ah, you'd like to hug him again, but that's probably too much. He's not touching you for a reason—something he learned made it not worth it, maybe, or maybe this offer is replacing the touch thing. It shouldn't matter either way. You should be happy with what you have. And you are!

You are!

It's just. You wish you could have more. Just this once.

"I, um," says Mirabelle, "I don't, really know what I want to do after... but I think, maybe, a pilgrimage might be nice?"

"Oh?" Isa says, like she's leading up to something.

"So! Maybe! I could come with you? For a while?"

...

There's no way this is real. There's, no way they're both willingly subjecting themselves to you for longer than they have to.

You should answer.

You find you can't bring yourself to move at all.

Isa tilts his head and frowns. "Sif? What's wrong?"

"Oh!" Mira clasps her hands together again. "Do you not want me to–?"

"N-no," you force out. "No, please." You pause to gasp for air, and it still doesn't feel like you're getting any. "I'm sorry, you don't have to– But please."

"But we want to," Isa says.

You gasp desperately again. "Do you?"

Mira's biting her nails. You should tell her. You can't. She says, "Oh, Siffrin, breathe!"

"Of course we want to," Isa says.

"You're just saying that." You try to breathe. "You wouldn't do that to yourself." You fail. It feels like your face is starting to melt into tears. "It's not real." Why are you crying so much? Why does this all hurt so much? You were fine before. You were fine on your own.

The door opens. The thing looms behind Isa and Mira. You cannot breathe. It's as if everything is frozen as it opens a mouth that is not there.

"Of course not," says Isa's voice. "My favorite words," he tells you, "are the ones that don't mean anything."

You press yourself against the wall. "Stars," you gasp.

"Yeah! Like that one!"

Mira's voice coos, "It's so pretty! Where did it come from?"

Odile comes through the door. Her voice says, "You're not from Vaugarde either. Where did you come from?"

"Did you run away?" asks Bonnie's. "Or did they not want you anymore?"

"My favorite things," Isa's voice tells you, "are the ones that aren't around anymore."

Mirabelle's voice says, "Oh, Siffrin... I can't wait to never see you again."

It chokes. Odile has grabbed it by the back of the collar—and it goes limp, completely limp, until she has to drop it. Isa spins to face it and shields you with his body. Mira pulls her rapier. Bonnie peeks around the door frame, pan held in a tight, shaking fist.

From around Isa's arm, you see the thing lying on the ground. It's crying silently.

It lifts its head and looks at you.

"What a pity," says your own voice. "What a blinded pity."

You gasp for air. It's pathetic.

It drops its head, and says up into the air, "This journey is not supposed to be happy. You are selfish. They will forget you."

You choke.

"It's only fair."

.

"This is not real."

.

"Good night."

...

Okay.

Mirabelle turns back to you, and shoves her sword away, and grabs your shoulders and shakes you. "Siffrin!" she cries. "Don't listen to it!"

You can't get yourself to speak. You almost don't even want to try. But you open your mouth. All that comes out is a sad little stuttering sound.

"We love you!" she says.

You don't get it. "Why?"

"Because you're you! "

...

You sit up a little. "I, I'm not really anything, though?" You're not. You're half-formed at best, and you've only gotten that far from being around this party. Before them, you were... near nothing at all. Hardly a person. Just a wanderer.

You only make puns because Isabeau likes them. You... No, that's kind of it. All you can think of that makes you you is that you're funny. And you're good at traps, you guess, but that's just a skill. And you like food and naps, but that's not really providing anything, so it doesn't count. That's not something soneone would love.

...You said something wrong. Mira's looking at you funny. And Bonnie looks confused, and Isa turns a little back toward you, and Odile raises her head from glaring at the Sadness to watch you instead. You feel pinned.

"What?" you ask.

"Of course you're something, dummy," Bonnie says. "You don't just not exist."

You frown and sniffle pathetically. That's too literal. "No, I mean– I'm, like, a two-dimensional character."

Mira brightens a little, like she's realized something. Then she sobers again and says, "You literally have a secret tragic backstory. Two-dimensional characters don't have that." She pauses, purses her lips, then mutters, "Unless they were meant to be a three-dimensional character and were just written badly."

...Well. You're not sure that's quite how it works? But you also don't have a good retort. It is true, that all you are is what you're missing and some stupid wordplay. You love tragedies, but you wouldn't want to be around someone who is only tragic. That's just asking for loss of your own.

You say as much. "All I am is what I'm missing," you tell them, voice wet and breaking, "and some stupid wordplay. It might rub off on you."

"It doesn't work like that, last I checked," Odile says.

"You don't know that for sure."

"Neither do you."

" Nothing can't be contain-jus," Bonnie huffs.

"B-but. You might lose things," you say.

Your voice declares, "Can't have your cake."

You nod.

Isa finally relaxes. "Oh," he says quietly. "That's what that was about." He turns back to face you again, and, with his face a little dark, "Sif, you can have us. This is something you can keep."

Odile looks a little like she's judging him, but she nods. Mira nods too, and Bonnie makes an affirming noise and pumps their fist. The Sadness whines wordlessly.

You sniffle. And then you nod back, and say, "Okay."

☆

Bonnie pushes a plate into your hands. It's piled high with pancakes drowned in syrup and sugar.

To your Sadness, which is once again tied up in a chair on the opposite side of the room, they give a plate with a single bare pancake. You're pretty sure it doesn't even have a mouth to eat with. You guess it's more about the sentiment.

"So," Isa says, "what are we doing with the Sadness?"

"Killing it?" That was the plan, right? Feelings talk, then fight?

Mira hums. "No offense, Siffrin, but I don't think it's going away any time soon. You, um..."

"You have some pretty deep-seated issues," Isa finishes for her.

You shrink into your collar a little. You'd insist again that you're fine, but you don't think that would go over well.

"Maybe," Odile says, smiling, "we can keep it around as a pet."

You squint. A pet?

Mira gasps. You can practically see the sparkles in her eyes. "A pet Siffrin!"

"Pet Sif..." Isa echoes.

You snort. What? You do not see how that would be at all appealing.

"Maybe this one will let us pet it, too," Odile says.

Isa and Mira both gasp in sync. Now they're both sparkling...

Bonnie scrunches their face up. "You guys are weird."

You nod.

Mira giggles. "I just like the idea of two Siffrins! That's two of one of my favorite people!"

...

You smile and duck your head. This is nice. You're glad they like having you around. You're glad they want to keep you. You're glad they love you.

You love them too.

You want to stay with them forever.