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You didn’t expect to wake up again.
You didn’t expect to be alive. After your fight with Stardust, you thought that was it. You were done. Your grand final performance before a tragic, explosive end. The death of a star, your very own supernova. You’re sure the audience loved it, just like they loved everything else before casting you backstage!
And you were fine with that! You did your part! You played your role well enough! The thought of fading away to nonexistence sounded wonderful! Lovely, even. Finally, after all this time, after all your suffering and loss, you could have your applause. You can take your bow, accept the roses thrown, thorns and all, and rest. You could finally be buried with your mistakes.
But the Universe has never been kind to you, so why would it start now?
So here you are. Lying under the Favor Tree, exactly where you were before, squinting under the morning sun. Rays of light peek through the leaves and the lively chatter of the Dormont could be heard.
If it weren’t for the tree, you’d think you were back in your loops, back with your family, and you foolishly let yourself hope. You’re not sure whether you’re glad or not at the truth...
You’re not, but there’s way too many other things to spiral about right now. So much so that they cancel each other out, making you this weird mixture of both panicked and tired. You wish you could just go back to wherever you were before you woke up and forget your current situation.
Because what’s the point? The show’s over. You’ve lost. You’ve accepted this. Yet here you are. Living, breathing still. Darkless strands of hair falling over your face, a telltale sign of something recognizably human mistakenly given to someone who’s lost even that. You don’t know whether to laugh or cry.
What you do instead is stand. Then look around, then look at yourself. Yup. You look like him. Hat and all. The only difference is that you can feel your other eye. You take the eyepatch off and try to see through it, only to find that it’s still blind. How generous of the Universe. Still you’ll take what little differences you can get, so it’s not the worst.
The Favor Tree stands just as tall as you last saw it. It feels like both forever and a second ago. Out of all the thoughts swimming in your mind right now, one sticks out amongst the rest. Stardust.
You’re here, but so are they. You’re in their world while they adventure with their friends, their family. By now, they’re probably halfway over to Bambouche enjoying their happy ending. Without you. They don’t even know you’re alive, and they shouldn’t. You don’t belong here, after all. The world has no need for two Siffrins.
What point is there to living if you don’t have a life anymore. If you’re no longer a person, are you even alive? Are you just here for another show? An encore? Is that it?
You’re not Siffrin. You don’t want to be them. You can’t be them. No matter how much you beg or scream or claw at your skin hoping to create something similar to how you were before, you aren’t him anymore.
‘So who are you, Loop?’ is the question you have to ask yourself now. And there is no answer, because you don’t know yourself. And there is no guide, because you are once again, fully and utterly alone.
You look at the tree once more, and traitorously think of making another wish. What if, you think. You can have everything you ever wanted, so long as you’re careful. It’s tempting, the possibility of being loved again. But then Stardust might be the one alone. As much as you hate to admit it, you could never do that to them. They earned their ending. Fair and square. Who are you to rewrite the play?
You breathe in, and out, just like them. It feels strange to do that again, but good. You can hardly stand to be in this town any longer, however, so with as much strength that you’re able to wield, you turn away from the tree one last time. For real this time, and isn’t that unbelievable. You make your way through town, dodging praise not meant for you, sparing a glance at that cursed field, and after years. After so many years of rotting alive, you leave.
You leave Dormont.
In the opposite way of Bambouche, sure, but you leave. You don’t think you’ll ever be ready to see them again, especially not in the state you are now, and you hope you’ll never have to. The sooner you can bury that chapter of your life, the better. But the fact that it’s come to a close at all, the fact that you’re… free. You don’t know what to make of it.
It’s a long way to the next town. Some supplies would be great, but you’re not spending Stardust’s coin so soon. Besides, if you happen to perish during this journey, well… it’s not like you’d mind is all you’d say.
You’ll breathe in the air for now though, fresh and new and novel. And maybe, if you’re lucky, you can find something new.
If the Universe would allow it.
~
It’s hard to keep track of dates when you’re on the road. Between doing odd jobs, relearning how to survive and hunt, inns and walking and the occasional kind aid of strangers, it’s been a blur. You’re not sure how much time has passed. You hear it from passersby though, how it’s been a month since the Saviors saved the country. You thought it would’ve been longer. You’d thought you’ve been in stasis for at least a year, not a week. You’ve barely been traveling for three.
You guess it doesn’t matter all that much. It’s not like you have anyone to share the time with. But the principle still stands that you were only allowed to rest for a week, and you think you’re allowed to be a little offended at such a weak consolation.
You’re in Saleau, the next biggest city from Dormont. You’re still not the biggest fan of them, how loud and too much everything is, but it’s new. It’s new and it’s a reminder that this is real. So you’ll suck it up for now.
The city isn’t the main thing you’re here for anyways. You’re uh…
You’re here for the House, actually.
You’ve rolled your eyes at the irony countless times already, you know. If the Universe could laugh at you, they’d be having a fit right now. Why take you out of the loops at all if you were just going to come back to something familiar. But that’s the thing. You’re coming here so that it’s not familiar.
Being Siffrin, looking like him, it’s suffocating. It does nothing but remind you of the worst period of your life, of everything you lost. So, you’re going to… change. Maybe even capital C Change. You’re not sure. Do as the Vaugardians do and all that. A change of clothes, a haircut, a job, anything. Anything would be better than the remnants you’re left with.
So as much as you despise the Change god, you swallow your pride, and walk inside.
~
The housemaidens welcome you openly enough. They give you a tour, show you to your dorm- no roommates, surprisingly- and leave you to get settled in for the rest of the night. You sit on the bed and sigh.
The idea of staying in one place for an indefinite amount of time is daunting, and you’re worried it’ll start to feel like the loops at some point, but you’re comforted by the fact that you can leave at any time. Plus, the House has a ton of classes, so there’s at least something new every day. The perfect thing to place your attention on instead of all the thoughts you don’t want to focus on! It’s a win-win really!~
But! That’s tomorrow’s problem. Right now, you’ve got something else to sort out. Your fingers play with a tuft of your hair as you make your way to the attached bathroom.
The mirror above the sink hangs there, tauntingly. You’ve avoided your reflection for as long as you could- is it even your reflection anymore- so you haven’t seen what you actually look like in weeks. You breathe in, and out in an attempt to calm your nerves, utilizing any ounce of bravery you might have and finally take a look.
You… look like a mess. Stars, no wonder they let you in so easily! You look terrible! Even stardust has seen better days. You chuckle. At least there’s something to laugh about. That’s not something common nowadays.
There are a few drawers that you rifle through, most containing toiletries, but one with the thing you need most: Scissors. Mainly because you don’t want to cut your hair with your dagger. You hold them neatly in your hand, staring at your reflection in the metal for a bit, before lifting them behind your head to make the first cut.
It’s all zoning out from there. Your only goal is to cut the lightless ends off and make it look somewhat nice, which you’re doing a good job at so far. After an eternity of mindless cuts, you finally finish and come back to reality. It’s not the cleanest nor the best looking haircut- If anything, it’s just as messy as you are now- but it’s shorter and… different.
It’s weird, how cutting a bit of hair can make you feel so light and giddy yet at the same time, empty. It’s an acknowledgement, you know that. That everything from now on will be different. There’s no more family, no more friends or false sense of identity to fall back on. There’s no more loops, no point to your existence. Nothing separating you from being a person to being one of the scraps of hair on the floor.
There’s no Siffrin.
There’s only Loop.
‘Change is destruction,’ you heard the Fighter tell Stardust once. You’re not sure how broken you are right now. How much more of you needs to be destroyed. If you’re even able to change at all. But you did it once, right? If it’s as good as Mirabelle was always saying, then it should be easy, right?
Tears grow in your eyes as your hand grips the counter with concerning force, your other hand tugging on the hair that remains. Your smile strains before giving up entirely and you fight the urge to destroy the mirror. Broken glass wouldn’t be a good look for your first day. You give a deep sigh. Maybe you’re just tired. Whether it’s physically or mentally is up for debate.
Things will be better in the morning. You don’t care if it’s a lie you tell yourself.
~
It’s been a month so far.
Things are a little better, you guess. But there’s not exactly anywhere to go at rock bottom, so you suppose your progress is a little skewed.
The housemaidens have been nice to you at least, helping with whatever you need. Sometimes they even offer themselves. The one next to your dorm, the one with the headband and curly hair, helped fix your hair the day after your breakdown. They even gave you one of their own headbands, a mid-shade one with a bow.
It reminds you of Mira’s... You wear it every day now. As much as you enjoy the secrecy of your hat, it’s all too similar, to the point of feeling suffocating. This, however, is a different kind of familiarity. A melancholy one, but a memory to hold on to.
It’s the same with the rest of your outfit as well, once you managed to get new clothes, that is. A coat like Odile’s, boots like Bonbon’s, loose pants like Isa’s. All a contrast to the tight, practical clothes you kept for most of your life. It’s comfy at least. Earrings in the shape of four-pointed stars, gems attached to the change circle pins you adorned, and of course, the most important one of all: Stardust’s coin. You took a jewelry class in the House specifically to turn it into a necklace. You keep it under your shirt though, close to your chest. You don’t want anybody else to see it.
You wish you could close it, that chapter of your life, leave it behind for good. But that wouldn’t be fair to them, would it? Why do you get to continue living when you left your world to rot? Why should you get to move on when they’re still there, stagnant, frozen. Dead. You killed them. Whether you meant to or not, it doesn’t change the fact that they’re not here. It doesn’t change the fact that you’re gone too.
So, you carry them with you, their ghosts. Whether it’s in your head or in your clothes doesn’t matter. As long as some semblance of them stays with you, it proves that they lived. That once upon a time, people loved you and you loved them. How else are you supposed to repay that care?
It won’t ever be enough to bring them back. Even if this world has its Saviors, you will never have your friends. But some selfish part of you is doing this for yourself too. Keeping them alive. Maybe you just don’t want to feel alone anymore.It’s not like you have much to your name anyway.
Taking pieces from other people, hoping something will stick and tell you what person you’re supposed to be. Trying to learn to be someone from those who were more human than you ever were. It’s all you can do.
As pathetic as it is, you’re trying.
~
You’ve been at the House for two months now. Been alive for three.
It’s… nice. The routine. It’s different enough to be comforting, but predictable. The housemaidens are friendly with you, you struggle with their names, but you try. It’s the least you can do for their kindness.
The classes are tiring sometimes, but they keep you busy enough to avoid thinking and surprisingly, you’re starting to learn some new things.
You still refuse to do anything related to the Change god, though. Just because you’ve thrown yourself into their faith full force, doesn’t mean you have to like them. When drawing the face for your statue, you x’d out their eyes just to be petty. Whether you had a nightmare that night or not is unrelated... You think.
Either way, the House has provided you multiple ways to spend your time, and you still make money doing odd jobs in between. Recently, you’ve been wanting to help out a bit more. That’s something you can never quite beat out of your old self, you think. The need to help, to feel useful. It’s not a bad trait, you suppose. It feels good to be needed.
You asked around the House, seeing if there was anything you could do. The Head Housemaiden pointed you in the direction of the House library. It makes sense, the place is terribly understaffed for such a big city. It’s not as busy as the main library in town, but it certainly gets its fair share of housemaidens and other passersby. They’d probably be grateful for any help they could get.
When you get there, it turns out you were right. There’s only about three people, all of which were happy someone was interested in helping at all. You get the job easily enough and are shown how to do everything, then you’re left to your own devices. Organizing books, helping patrons, it’s all a blur for the rest of the day but it’s surprisingly nice?
You’ve never had a real job before, not a stable one. You wouldn’t know what permanency feels like, you’re just barely getting a grasp on it. But helping people, feeling useful, it’s the best way you can spend your time, you think. Having a purpose, even one so small, is a luxury you haven’t had in a long time.
You feel… well, not exactly happy or ecstatic but, you’re getting there.
~
Three months at the house now. Four months alive.
It’s the end of the day now. You’re organizing whatever books are left, putting miscellaneous papers in their place in the staff room. One of them slips from your hold, fluttering to the ground. You kneel down to pick it up when you see something. Way down at the bottom of the bookshelf, the last row of books, hidden in the back where most people wouldn’t be able to see.
You pick one from the selection, placing the papers aside and look at the title. It’s… one about constellations. Is this a Vaugardian translation? Why would this be hidden away? You look inside, flipping through the pages to try and find your answer, reading bits and pieces along the way.
Canis Major, Capricornus, Cassiopeia. Flip. Leo Minor, Lepus, Lyra. Flip. Octans, Ophiuchus, Orion. It goes on and on and on. A lot of these feel familiar to you. Like something from a dream, or more likely, something from your upbringing. It has to be. You wish you could grab a hold of a memory, even if it’s just one. That you can catch one out before it slips through the cracks in your mind, hold it in a tight grip so that it stays.
Your mother always told you not to force these things out. That anything truly important would have either been written down or remembered in time. You figured she had experience with this kind of thing. She was an awfully forgetful person, after all. You wish you could be as carefree as-
As...
Your head hurts. Who were you-
The creak of the door opening startles you, snapping your head toward the sound. Your shoulders slump in relief at the sight. It’s just one of your coworkers. Lucille? You think her name is? Light hair in a braid, wears glasses, you check off the mental list. You’re trying to get better with names and it’s embarrassing you haven’t remembered everyone’s yet.
“Oh! Hey!” she calls, readjusting the few boxes she’s carrying, “I thought you left already!”
“Ah- n-no I’m, I’ve been here,” you stutter, still recovering, “Sorry. I’ll get back to work.”
“Nah, don’t worry ‘bout it. It’s the end of the day anyways,” she places the boxes on a nearby desk and kneels down to your level, “Were you reading some of the books here?”
You nod. Despite how loud your mouth is sometimes you still can’t handle small talk. She squints at the cover and tries to read the title, only to rub her eyes in pain.
“Ow…” she mutters, “How are you reading that?”
“What do you mean?” Is she.. Calling you illiterate?? Huh???
“It’s one of those brain hurty books. You know, the ones where if you try to read them you get a massive headache? That’s why they’re all in here and not out in the front,” she explains, “Only reason we haven’t gotten rid of them is that they might have some important stuff. We don’t know how to translate them, but maybe someday we will.”
You look at the book again. The words make perfect sense to you. It feels as natural as reading something in Vaugardian, something you do on instinct. But the topic, constellations. Vaugardians aren’t known for their interest in the sky, let alone the Universe. You’ve seen Stardust’s attempts at educating his friends. They don’t care. It might as well not exist to them. The empty observatory, the lack of knowledge, why would a translated copy of a constellations guide exist in Vaugarde? That, coupled with the fact that it’s actively giving your coworker a migraine, leads you to the only possible explanation.
You can read your native language.
The Universe let you keep this ability. How generous.
You glare at the book, grip tightening against the cover. Why now? Of all times, why now? Is the Universe trying to apologize? To say ‘Oops! Sorry you lost everything you’ve ever known and loved including your own identity! Here’s all the books about your culture that you so desperately wanted to know all that time ago! Sorries!’ Is that it?!
How kind of your god. How kind of it to give you everything you ever wanted way too late, once again. After you decided you didn’t want anything to do with it.
“Um, Loop?” she calls, interrupting your angered thoughts, “If you want to check it out, you can. It’s not like anybody else is gonna read the dang thing.”
“...Sure.” You might as well. It’s not like anybody else will.
‘Maybe you can make yourself useful! Helpful translator Loop!~’
You roll your eyes at the thought.
~
You take it to your dorm room that night.
Your fingers lazily fidget with the pages, running a corner under your thumb over and over again. Distantly, you wonder if any of the constellations you’re reading about could be seen in Vaugarde.
You don’t know why you agreed to take the book, but the more you read, the less angry you get. It is interesting, you will admit. The stars. Your culture. A connection you could never truly sever.
You thought you didn’t care anymore. You swore to yourself that you didn’t care. That you were better off not knowing. After all, finding out about your origin didn’t help you. In fact, it made everything feel worse. Because all you could think of is ‘what if?’ What if you were home that night? What if you didn’t go to the Favor Tree that day? What if you didn’t give up? You realize that the longer you live, the longer your list of ‘what if’s’ gets with each regret you make. You wonder if you’ll ever be free of them, or if you’ll always be stuck yearning for things that can never be.
Maybe it is an apology. You must have this ability for a reason. If it took the time to fix your eye, then clearly it wasn’t overlooking any details when remaking you. As much as you hate the Universe for what it’s done to you, it still held you in its arms after everything. Still sewed you back together anew. Like a child fixing a beloved toy, unknowing of how much harm they were causing before, and doing everything they can to make things right.
You focus back on the words in front of you. When you die, all of this information, every single word of knowledge, will be erased. It’ll be like it was never there. Like it was never supposed to be there. The culture you longed for so long to know; the want of knowing who you were before, even if it’s just a small glimpse. All your past wishes dug up from the dirt and thrown in your face. This knowledge, there’s no place for it in this world, not in its current state.
You don’t want another good thing to be lost. Nothing deserves that fate.
With a sigh, you gather an empty notebook and pen, and mentally prepare yourself for the task you know you’re going to hate. You turn to the first page and start translating.
~
It’s not a large book, but it’s definitely not small either.
It takes two weeks to finish translating it entirely and by the end of it, you never want to write a thing again. Your wrist hurts so bad. But it’s done! It won’t be forgotten again, not when it’s in Vaugardian. You place your finished work on the Head Librarian’s desk.
The Head Librarian- Margot, your dorm neighbor; Yay you remembered!- startles, and you feel a little bad for scaring them, but you’re too tired to say anything. They give a confused look, you motion for them to read through it and they comply, though not without squinting at the original book first.
“Loop,” they start.
“Yes?” You roll your tired wrist around.
“As much as I appreciate your dedication,” they start, “Why didn’t you just use craft to translate it?”
What.
“What.”
“You can use craft to change the print on the books, you know. Instead of writing it all by hand?” they inform you, “It definitely speeds the process up by a significant amount. I’m sure Lucille or Antoine can teach you if you want.”
You could’ve saved your hand the trouble. It’s great, crafting instead of writing is great! But??? You could’ve done this in half the time??? Whatever! It’s whatever!!! You didn’t need your hand or anything!
“That is, only if you want to, of course,” they interrupt your grumbling, “But this? What you’ve done? I didn’t think it was possible. If you want to keep doing this, then I think it’d be a real help. Not just to us. If you can read these books, I think you can do a lot of good.”
“O-oh.” You’re… not sure how to react to that. You didn’t expect this. Granted, you’re not sure what you expected- you just wanted to restore a book of constellations- but you guess this was always a possibility, an inevitable rabbit hole.
“I’ll think about it,” is all you say.
~
It doesn’t take much thinking to decide.
You ask Lucille to teach you how to craft the books and spend the afternoon learning. By the end of another two weeks, you’ve gotten the hang of it. You’ve always been a fast learner. You’ve just never wanted to learn anything new before. Until now at least. Maybe you are changing.
The classes in the rest of the House aren’t exactly mandatory, just something you can choose to sign up for, so you still go every now and then, but most of your time now is spent on the books. You’ve been at the House a little over five months now. You’ve been alive for six. And isn’t that something? Half a year of being alive. You roll the coin on your necklace between your fingers. A small part of you hopes they’d be proud, maybe even happy.
You shake the thought out of your mind as quickly as it came. There’s no real point in thinking about them. It’s not like you’ll ever see them again! You got more important things to do than thinking of Stardust anyways!~
…
Hm...
You sigh. You try not to think about it. You focus your attention back on the book you have. Word spread fast that you were offering your services to people, and some have dropped off their unwanted books, fewer have even come in asking you to translate some things. It doesn’t take much craft to translate, but with how much you’re changing and how many you’re doing at once, you have to be careful to avoid craft sickness. Thankfully, most are satisfied with you simply reading it out to them or changing only a page or two.
There’s also your own little personal project. The Island. Or rather, the information about it. It’s culture, it’s traditions, the stars and the faith. Anything containing info, you try to restore. You didn’t think you’d end up back at this subject- you thought you denounced it entirely- but like a moth to the moon, your curiosity is simply too big to ignore.
As much as you’ve been hurt by it, as much as it pains you to look at them now, the stars have always been something of a haven to you. Your four-pointed earrings chime as a reminder.
You’ve learned a lot so far. Bonding rituals were conducted with matching pins, one for each partner. Dandelions were seen as a religious symbol. People tended to address others with a characteristic unless they were close. Folk stories of how constellations were formed and cautionary tales about wishes for children and stars and Wishcraft rituals and so much more.
But the one thing you’re never able to read is the name, as well as what its residents called themselves. Sadly, those continue to be blurred, and any attempt at trying to read them still causes pain to you. Even the rare photo you find tucked between pages depicts nothing but a blurred image, like seeing something out of focus, followed by a massive headache for attempting too hard.
You restore as much as you can, though, translating them until your body aches and you physically can’t any longer. You share your information with the few visitors who come in and ask. They carry themselves in different ways, but the accent is always heavy on their tongue, the darkless strands of hair too unique to ignore. They look at you in understanding, and in those moments, you don’t feel like the only person to ever lose everything. You can tell they appreciate your work, and it makes you feel warm that someone cares about what you do.
It’s gotten to the point where the Head Housemaiden pulled you aside one day to ask if you’d be interested in teaching a class about it. Which is nice, but you are NOT qualified to teach anything. Standing up there, in front of so many people, all of them staring at you- you don’t think you could do it. But after a long conversation and a lot of coaxing, you caved in.
It might do some good? People always seemed happy to learn more from you, even meeting the occasional researchers who are as passionately interested as you are. But still. You drag a hand down your face. Stars, why did you agree?
Now you have to create a lesson plan and a lecture and research and archive even more than you already are. Is that what teacher’s do? What even goes into a class lecture? You wish you could talk to Mira about how she taught her class, or ask Odile how she tutored Bonbon. You wish. But you can’t.
...
You play with the gems hanging from your pins, circles within circles, and try not to think of two people you used to know. You only hope that despite failing them, they’d be proud.
~
Six months you’ve been at the House. Seven months alive, and if you’re being honest, you’re starting to actually feel like it. Alive, you mean. You have a life. And yeah that sounds incredibly pathetic and pitifully sad and just a bit weird to be excited about, but you are, and you think you’re allowed at least that.
You’ve been teaching your class for nearly a month now. At least twice a week. You’re surprised at how many people actually came. Many of them seemed to have some relation to the Island, their hair being an easy tell, but there were a handful of Vaugardians as well. You don’t blame them, who wouldn’t want to know about the country that disappeared up north? Maybe some Vaugardians do care. It’s nice, seeing something forgotten slowly being remembered.
You’re walking back from one of your classes and are about to enter the library when one of your coworkers stops you. Antoine? You think his name is? Something with an A. Confused, you try to make it through, but whenever you move, he changes directions to block your path. You scowl at him, but he doesn’t falter in his supposed goal of keeping you out, only offering a wobbly smile as an apology and leaning on the door.
Now, you could be a reasonable human being and just walk away, but you’ve never been reasonable in anything else so why start now. Stubbornly, you walk over to the side of the door and sit, leaning your back against the wall, glaring at him the entire time before focusing on your work. Visitors pass by now and then, all allowed in except you. You’re not quite sure how long you sit there translating, but eventually the door opens from the inside and he ends up falling. You don’t hide your laugh.
You stand up and begin walking towards the door, but-
“Oh! Wait wait!” Lucille calls.
She comes up behind you and very obviously starts tying a blindfold around your eyes before taking one of your hands. Okay, you’re very confused now. They start walking and guide you somewhere. You stumble a little, being blind and all, but they go slow enough to keep up. At some point you feel someone’s hands on your shoulders signaling you to stop, followed by the sound of fading footsteps.
“Okay! Take it off!”
Finally.
You do as you’re told and-
“Surprise!!!” the three of them cheer in unison, popping confetti poppers. The bright pieces flutter in the air around you. A few balloons decorate the room with a simple cake sitting on a table in the middle.
Huh?
“You’ve been here for six months! We do this for every housemaiden who stays this long, and now it’s your turn!” theyexplain, “It’s an important milestone in a housemaiden’s journey and it gives them a chance to look back to see how they’ve changed!”
“Plus you’ve done a lot for everyone, so we wanted to thank you, too!” Another one adds.
Oh!
Oh.
That’s… y-you don’t..
“We didn’t know what cake to get you, but we noticed you liked the deserts in the pantry so-”
You don’t know what to say. You can’t say anything at all, tongue refusing to work. Your cheek feels wet and it takes you a moment to realize you’re crying. You try to wipe them off, but more keep coming, trailing down your cheeks like fallen stars, glistening under the evening light. You duck your head to try and hide in your hands, to create a barrier from the rest of the world, but to no avail. You wonder how you must look right now. Pitiful thing. The touch of someone’s hand pats your shoulder comfortingly.
“...Thank you,” you whisper, through tears. You feel as though they know what you mean.
The cake was very good.
~
You’re taking a break for once, surprisingly. You don’t sleep as much as you should. You wish you didn’t have to. Stupid human body needing stupid rest. You let out a sigh.
You had another dream again. About them. Except it wasn’t a nightmare this time. No. It was rather happy actually. You were sat around a table, laughing, smiling, eating dinner, every one of them as gorgeous as you remember. Even Stardust was there. You couldn’t think of a better fantasy. And then you woke up. That’s the real nightmare, you chuckle humorously.
One thing led to another, and now you’re here on the House’s roof. You come up here to clear your head sometimes. It’s never daunting when it’s night, never too similar to that rooftop in Dormont. An endless abyss of cloudy mid-day sky. Thinking about it still makes you sick. Plus, you can see the stars, so that’s a plus.
It’s funny, you never thought you’d find your way back to them again. Not in any positive way, at least.
If only you could do the same with your party.
...
Your mind drifts to Stardust as you fidget with your coin. They’re probably in Poteria or something, traveling with their family. Eating their Bonbon’s food, listening to their Mira talk, browsing shops with their Odile wearing clothes by their Isa meeting their Nille-
Breathe. You remind yourself. You breathe in and out, slowly and rhythmically. You promised yourself you wouldn’t get angry at them, that you wouldn’t let your jealousy take over again like last time.
You don’t want to be that way... You don’t want to be angry anymore.
But still, it’s there. The jealousy. The anger. As much as you’ve tried to ignore it, it’s still there. Emptiness. It’s easier to look past sometimes- the books and the classes and the lessons definitely keep you busy enough- but it’s always there, eating away at your heart.
You’re happier, sure, having a purpose and place in a community is lovely, and the housemaidens make good company. You even feel close to your coworkers, becoming so bold as to consider calling them friends. But you’re still left unsatisfied.
You’ve accepted that it wasn’t your fault. You’ve acknowledged it. You know there was nothing you could do. You know there’s no way you could have known what would happen if you made that wish. How could you know asking for help would lead to it? You’ve accepted the fact that it wasn’t your fault despite what all the guilt tells you. You know.
But you still miss them. You miss Bonbon waking you up in the morning, the clanging of pots and pans as they made breakfast, loud voice yelling at you to get up. The way they’d give you candy in attempts at comfort. You miss playfully annoying the others with Isa, his joyful laughter as you joke back and forth. The warm sun-shining way he would look at you when he thought you weren’t looking. You miss Mira talking your ear off as she told you about the Change belief or a book she was reading. The kind way she treated you, always so welcoming. You miss learning about Vaugarde with Odile silently bonding over being foreigners. The quiet reprieve she gave to the other’s energy, the dry witty humor you grew to appreciate.
There’s a void where they once were in your chest, carved as a reminder in your heart. Living but not truly alive.
You miss them. You miss your friends. You miss your family.
“Hey there,” someone calls out nearby, interrupting your breakdown. You’re definitely way too tired, since you don’t jump at the sound. Instead, you turn to the source and find one of your coworkers. Lucille. You remember her name now. That’s good.
“Hello,” you greet as she comes to stand beside you.
“Bit late for a walk,” she leans on the railing, smiling at you in a friendly way.
“And what are you doing here?” You retort.
“Well a certain someone left their papers strewn around their desk,” she teases, “Doing some midnight thinking or just relaxing?”
“Would the latter really be that surprising?” you raise a brow at her.
“With you, yes,” she jokes.
You huff a laugh.
“A silver for your thoughts?” she prompts, bumping your shoulder and your smile fades. You look down at the city below.
“Just… some friends I wish I could see again, is all,” is all you give her. You can tell by the way her posture changes that she knows what you mean. That it’s not simply a case of long-distanced friendship or busy schedules.
“Yeah, I get it. I’ve had some like that too,” she admits, a little sadly. You’re a little surprised at the confession, but make sure not to pity her. Stars know you’d hate for someone to do that with you.
“Does it ever get easier to deal with?” You ask instead.
“With time, yeah. It’s why I came to the House in the first place. To get away from it all,” she tells you, “But the Head Housemaiden told me some advice one day. I think it helped a lot.”
“‘You are a product of everyone you’ve ever loved,’” she quotes, “I didn’t understand what it meant at first, but I think I do now.”
“What does it mean?” you ask, curious.
“It means that we’re shaped by the people around us. The ones we love, the people we care about, it’s natural to try and emulate them. Even if they’re not in our lives anymore, their mere presence alone has Changed us. You are not the same person you were before you’ve met them, and everywhere you go, you carry a bit of them within you, so they’re never truly gone,” she explains, “At least, that’s what I think it means.”
“Oh..” you breathe out. Tears prick in the corner of your eyes. You wipe them away on your sleeve, but they don’t go away. Crying in front of other people, it’s embarrassing, but you can’t bring yourself to stop, as much as you want to.
Never truly gone huh? A part of those you love within you, carried gently everywhere you go. Hidden away like a treasured memory, something to always be remembered.
“You have this lost look on your face sometimes, whenever you don’t think anyone is watching. I see it most when you’ve zoned out translating, and I wondered if it was because of the Island, something you lost,” she says. You don’t bother correcting her, “But whatever friends you had before coming to the House, they must have loved you a lot.”
“And how would you know that?” You sniff, voice barely audible.
“Because otherwise, you wouldn’t make such good company,” she smiles at you as if it’s true, and maybe to her, it is. It’s a weird feeling, one you don’t ever think you’ll get used to, but one you hope you might.
You don’t have a response to give her, so instead, you turn back to the night sky above you. You wonder if Stardust is looking at the same one. He’s the closest thing you could call a friend in this new life of yours. But you think that slowly, the more time you spend here, the more the people around you start to become that too. It’s been a long time since you had a friend, and you hope that wherever they are, your family is glad you’re making more. You look at the sky again.
It’s a nice night. You hope they can see it too.
~
Month seven of being at the house. Month eight of being alive. Wow! Two-thirds of a year! Two-thirds of you beingalive! What an accomplishment! If you’re honest, you thought you would have kicked it by now! But you haven’t!
In fact, you’re finally beginning to believe that everything might actually be getting better. Stability has been good to you, kinder than anything you’ve ever known. You find it hard to trust sometimes, but it’s always there, reliable. You’re… starting to move on. It feels unbelievable, like something that was never supposed to happen, but it is. All the pain, it’s starting to fade away over time. You’re starting to get close to people again, let your guarded walls down and talk freely, and you think they might enjoy your company too.
You never thought you could get to this point. You’re glad you have.
...
Though… as much as you wish it would continue, the streak of good luck, you always knew it could never stay this peaceful. You are the Universe’s favorite after all. You just didn’t expect it to happen so suddenly.
It starts like this.
You’re in the library one afternoon. Nothing interesting, just doing normal work at your desk. Lucille left earlier to take her lunch break, but judging by the voices coming from the main room, she must have come back already. You’re dozing off with the endless reading you’ve done, so you decide to take a small break and do a little bit of friendly eavesdropping.
There’s two other voices accompanying hers. You can’t make them out fully, but for some reason, they sound familiar to you. They’re asking about a flier they saw outside- about your classes, you think. You didn’t know you had so many fans!~ She mentions the small, growing section of books you’ve translated and they fade away for a bit.
You think that’s the last of it and move on. Around 20 minutes later, they come back. They’re asking about you, this time. Specifically you. Lucille talks to them for a while, and after some back-and-forth, agrees to take them to you. You groan internally, before mentally preparing yourself to speak with others. You didn’t think you’d have to for a while longer, but if you must.
A knock on the door to the staff room announces their arrival, and you call for them to come in. The door opens.
“Here they are! Our dazzling Mx. Loop! They teach classes about the Forgotten Island up north and our Head Translator because they’re the only one who could read the books!” Lucille introduces you.
“Loop?”
“Yes yes, don’t wear my name out so soon,” you place your book down, and slowly turn towards them, “How may I help you today my wonderful, dear…”
Your voice trails off at the sight.
“Guest?”
Mirabelle?
No. Housemaiden.
And the Researcher too.
You stare at them, frozen. Your eyes are wide, you don’t know what to say. They seem just as shocked. Suddenly, you feel as if you can’t breathe. The room feels too tight, too suffocating. You feel vulnerable, way too exposed. Why are they here?? Why are they here, why are they looking at you- why are they looking like that?!?
O̶d̶i̶-̶The Researcher’s gaze is sharpened on you, analyzing your every move, every feature. You have no doubt that she’s already figured it out. The Housemaiden is slower, but no different. Kind still, not wanting to cause you stress, but curious all the same. I̶t̶ ̶r̶e̶m̶i̶n̶d̶s̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ ̶o̶f̶-̶
A pit forms in your gut, right under the raw ache forming in your chest. It hurts, you feel sick. You want to get out of here. You want to run. You need to get out of here you need to run you need to run you need to leave you need to-
“Ahem,” the Reasearcher interrupts. Your breath hitches at what she might say next. “Loop.”
You can’t make your mouth work. You want to leave.
“Apologies for the question, but if I may ask-”
You may not, please-
“Are you the same Loop we spoke to in Dormont?”
You will your mouth to move, as difficult as it is.
“Haha, I-I’m sorry. You... must be thinking of s-someone else,” you force out. You shrink under her stare. You’re not as good at pretending anymore.
“Are you sure? Because you sound just like-”
“Madame, don’t they look similar to S-”
“Ah! W-well would you look at the time!” You stand up quickly, trying as hard as you can to smile. “I-I’m so sorry, I- I need to go-”
You squeeze past them, head down as you walk through the door, your only way out. You don’t even bother looking back, your only goal to get as far away from them as possible. As soon as you exit the library, you run. You run as fast as you’re able to stars know where and you don’t look back. There’s only one place that’s safe, one place where no one would bother you. Your feet hit the stairs one by one, slowly climbing closer to your room.
As soon as you get there, you slam the door to the bathroom shut. Your knees give out, shaking too hard to continue standing. It’s a miracle they carried you up here at all. Your chest aches from running, the only thing reminding you that you’re still alive. You’re still alive. Your breathing quickens as your hands grip onto whatever they can pulling strands of hair out cloth stretched and torn underneath your nails and you feel like you’re dying you feel like the world is ending and and and-
How could you be so foolish!!! How could you actually think you were getting better!!! Really, how stupid!~
You scream in your hands, muffling the sound as much as you can. You curl into yourself, hiding your face in your knees and your hands in your hair. And you sob. You cry harder than you ever have in your life and let everything you didn’t know was still bothering you loose. It spills out like a flood and you begin to wonder if you ever grew at all. You’re just the same mess you were when you first came here. A thing masquerading as a person, something that should not exist.
You thought you were past this! You thought you were getting better!! You thought it was over!!!
You thought you could move on.
But no! Here they are, at your doorstep as if nothing is wrong! Looking at you- talking to you! As if they didn’t die- As if they’re not dead! And you couldn’t even handle it! But they’re not dead, are they? No! Hah! Because they’re Stardust’s friends! They’re not yours. They’re not yours they’re not yours they’re not yours they’re not- yours aRE STILL GONE YOURS ARE STILL DEAD BECAUSE OF YOU-
You let out another pitiful sound and cry again, burying yourself deeper. You gasp for air like a dying fish, choking on your own sobs.
You thought you were over this...
. . .
Why..?
Is this a reminder?
Is it a warning?
Did you get too comfortable?
Are you too happy?
Why else would the Universe send a reminder of everything you lost, everything you loved and lost, if not to warn you that it could do it again. That whatever little progress you actually made could be undone in an instant. How many times will you die before being remade again? How many times will you be undone? Body tampered with like a doll, forced to suffer over and oveR AND OVER.
You don’t want to. Please. You don’t think you could take it one more time.
“Loop?”
A voice calls from beyond. Lucille’s. Please just go away.
The door opens, and once again, your life is a joke.
She stands there, staring at you. The bright light outside flooding into the dark room, her silhouette capturing you in her shadow. You hide away from her like the pathetic thing you are. Maybe if you ignore her, she’ll go away. But when has that ever worked in your life?
You hear the slow sounds of footsteps, followed by someone sitting on the ground next to you.
“Are you okay? Or well, dumb question but-”
Really dumb…
You shouldn’t be mean to her.
“I can ask them to leave, if you want? I don’t know who they are to you, but seeing them must have caused… this, so… if they hurt you then-”
“They didn’t,” you mutter.
She looks at you.
“They were- It’s m-my fault. I just… they didn’t recognize me is all. They didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Are they friends?” she asks tentatively.
“From another time, maybe,” you answer, “But they didn’t- they don’t recognize me now.”
“Because you’ve... changed?” she guesses hesitantly, tilting her head.
“I suppose in a way, yes,” you continue to hug yourself.
You’re not Siffrin. They’re not your family. They wouldn’t want you anyway. Not when you’re like this. Not when you’re a mess. It’s honestly embarrassing.
“I’m sorry. That’s terrible,” she responds, “They’re still downstairs, if you want to clear things up?”
It sounds nice, in theory. But once you start talking, you don’t think you’ll be able to stop. You’ll tell them everything. Every hidden truth that you’ve kept to your chest. Who you are, what you’ve done, how hard you tried, how much you wanted to come back to them. How much you love them, even if they’re not yours. You think you’ll always love them. But you don’t think that’s fair to Stardust, and it’s definitely not fair to yourself either.
“I.. can’t face them. It’s just- it’s too much.”
“It’s okay. Nobody’s going to make you,” she reassures and pats you on the shoulder, her go-to way of comfort. You don’t know how long she sits there with you. Time seems to stop moving, but at some point, the streaks on your face have dried and your breathing has leveled to a normal amount.
“I’m sorry I... I need a walk,” you stand on shaky legs and walk toward the door before pausing. “Um… thank you.”
Once again, you sense she knows what you mean, and she leaves you be. You don’t head out of the House too often. You’re always either too busy or too hesitant to venture off into the unknown. But you’ve done it enough times to at least know the surrounding area, and to know that there’s a Favor Tree just a block away. You go to it sometimes whenever you’re thinking of Stardust or feeling nostalgic.
The walk helps clear your mind, and you’re left thinking over the day’s events. You definitely overreacted, you think. You wish you could apologize, so that they know it’s not their fault. But the idea of speaking to them still makes you sick, so maybe it’s best you avoid them until you go your separate ways.
But like always, the Universe has other plans.
There, standing underneath the tree, is a figure you could never forget. Not in a thousand loops, not even in a thousand lifetimes. Not when you share the same face, the same eyes. He hasn’t even noticed you’ve walked behind him, choosing to stare at the leaves. Or maybe they’re soaking up the sun. It’s a nice day, after all.
You don’t know what possessed you to speak, especially not after the fiasco that was earlier. But it’s always been different when it’s come to him. Easier. Because they know. They see you for who you are without pity. So you can’t bring yourself to hate them, not after everything.
“You’re just going to stand there and ignore me, huh?” They jump at your voice and wildly turn around to see you, eye widening upon contact. You feel a tug at your lips and run a finger down your eye as a fake tear. “I see how it is. Always too busy mingling with others, leaving me to wither alone. Oh, Stardust, you wound me so-”
“Loop!!” they come running toward you and tackle you in a hug, bringing you both to the ground. You sit up slightly, one hand holding them, the other perched on the dirt. “Hello Stardust.”
They hug you tightly, and you wrap your other arm around them in a protective hold. It’s nice. It’s truly and utterly nice. You didn’t think you’d be happy to see them again.
“Okay, you’re getting dirt on my coat.”
“Ah! Sorry!” They scramble off of you, offering a hand as they stand. You take it and pull yourself up, dusting off the dirt and any other things that clung onto you.
You walk past them towards the Favor Tree, find a nice, large root, and sit. They laugh and come to join you on the other side. Well, isn’t this familiar?
“So, how may I help you on this wonderful, non-looping day?~” You clap your hands. They chuckle before taking a moment to think.
“Where have you been this whole time?” they settle on.
“What do you mean? I’m right here, aren’t I? I never left,” you deflect.
“I mean, where did you go, after you…?” they trail off.
“After I faded away?” you finish for them.
“Yeah.”
“Hmm, if I’m honest, I don’t really know myself. It felt like I was asleep, floating almost. A long nap,” you describe, “And then I woke up!”
“And now you’re,” they point to your body.
“And now I am,” you confirm, “Human. What a weird thing to be, huh?”
“I’m glad,” they say, “I’m glad you’re back. I missed you.”
“Oh, Stardust! I don’t know what to say! This is all so sudden!~” you tease, resting your chin in your hand, “I, sadly however, definitely did not think of you at all.”
“Oh really?” they smirk.
“Nope!”
“Then, what’s that hanging around your neck?” They point to their coin hanging on your necklace.
“Ah! W-Well-” You try to cover it, but they already know.
“You missed me,” they smile fondly.
“Did! Not! You huff crossing your arms.
“You did!”
“No!”
“You diiiiiiid!!!”
“No!!!”
“You did.”
“....” They look at you expectantly. “...okayfinemaybealittle.”
They laugh and you let a small smile slip.
“You’ve been here then? In this town?” they ask next.
“Ever since I arrived, yes,” you roll the coin between your fingers, “I woke up a week after and finally left that blinding town. Only to end up in another one.”
“Do you.. Not like it here?” They grow concerned.
“No, I never said that,” you clarify. They look relieved. “It’s just ironic, isn’t it?”
“Mira and Odile said that they saw you earlier. Or at least, they think they did?”
You cringe at the memory. That was barely two hours ago. Word truly gets around quick, huh?
“They said you’re a teacher at the House? About the Island? Said they saw a flier for the classes and found you in the library,” Their eye travels to the pins on your coat. “You’re a housemaiden?”
“Well, I had to do something,” you defend, “Unlike you, I can’t just travel endlessly in my lonesome forever. I’m not going to do that again… I don’t think I can.”
“...What if you don’t have to?”
“Heh, what?” You’re confused.
“You could come with us,” they suggest. They can’t be serious.
“Stardust, I couldn’t.”
“Why not? They already want to meet you,” he says. You pause.
“What?”
“They want to thank you for everything you did. If it weren’t for you, neither of us would be here. Vaugaurde would still be frozen, and me... I’d still be back there, in Dormont,” he explains, “And they’re curious too. About you. I can tell they want to know more than what I’ve said so far.”
“So what? You haven’t told them the truth yet?”
“It’s not my truth to tell,” they respond as if it’s obvious, “We’re having dinner later tonight. You should come.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Stardust…”
“Why not?”
“It’s just not,” you hold your arms, “You wouldn’t want me there.”
“But I do.”
“And that’s very sweet Stardust,” you smile sadly, “But they won’t. Once they find out, they’re going to change their minds. They wouldn’t want another Siffrin to jumble their dynamics.”
They wouldn’t want a Siffrin who failed. A Siffrin who gave up. A Siffrin who grieved them as if they meant nothing and moved on.
“They wouldn’t. You should give them some more credit. When Nille joined, things changed, yeah, but in a good way. And now we’re close to her too. I think that if you joined too, they’d really like having you,” they say, “At least, I would.”
They mumble that last part, but you hear it well and clear. As much as you’d love to go to dinner and form a connection with copies of your long-dead friends, you have… roots. You’re finally somewhere stable. Permanent. Even if you could form real, true connections with them as Loop, would it really… be okay? You’ve done so much work, you have responsibilities now. Is it really okay to just stop everything to chase something new? Some ridiculous dream?
“Even if I wanted to… I’m not sure if I should,” you say hesitantly, “I haven’t even traveled in months. I’ve just been here. I have… a place here. Responsibilities. I don’t think the other housemaidens would like it if I just suddenly ran off.”
“Ah… I see,” they sink into their cloak. You look at them with sadness. The coin feels cold underneath your touch. You sigh.
“You have a good thing going, Stardust. Don’t allow me to mess it up,” you reassure them, before standing up. It’s for the best. You make it a good ten steps before they call your name.
“Wait! Loop!” Despite it all, you turn around. They catch up to you and hand you a folded note. “It’s the address we’re all staying at.”
The writing inside shows just that. The name and street of some random inn.
“Just, if you change your mind, is all,” he smiles lopsidedly and you place it in your pocket.
Then you’re off. They watch as you walk away, leaving you to your thoughts. It doesn’t feel as long as before, the House’s entrance coming into view within minutes. You slip back into the library as if you never left, tidy up the mess you left on your desk, and sit. The note feels heavy in your pocket. Even as you try to go back to work, you feel its presence weigh on your mind. You pull it out of your pocket, staring at the words. It’s Stardust’s handwriting, probably to remember the address. You wonder if he found their way back.
“Hey.” Lucille’s voice. You look up. She’s leaning on the doorway to the staff room.
“Hello,” you respond quietly. Her seeing your breakdown earlier isn’t exactly what you had in mind for today. It feels a little awkward now.
“They left, but they checked out some of the books you translated. I don’t think you’ll have to worry about them any more today, though,” she informs you.
“Oh, thank you.”
“You feel any better?” she asks. You shrug. “Just… take it easy for today. Okay?”
She’s about to leave when something catches her eye.
“What’s that?” She points to the note on your desk. You fold it back up, words hidden from her view.
“Just… something from a friend,” you settle on, “They invited me to dinner…”
You don’t know why you decided to mention that detail. She doesn’t need to know, you don’t have to tell her anything. Maybe you just want someone to tell you no. To convince your racing mind that you should stay where it’s comfortable, even in your longing.
“Oh, that’s nice. You should go. It’s not too busy today, we could cover for you,” she offers.
“I.. well,” you stammer, “It’s more than just a dinner.”
“That’s fine! The House isn’t really strict on curfews if you’re gonna be out a little longer,” she smiles. She doesn’t get it.
If you go, if you leave, then that’s it. If you take the chance and are truly welcomed like Stardust says, if you’ve found a chance to be loved. If you got everything you ever wanted, then you’ll take it. Because that’s who you are. Selfish. Desperate. Lonely, even here.
If you don’t go, then you’ll never know what’s on the other side. You can live blindly in ignorance, you can continue helping people. Sure, you’ll probably regret it every day for the rest of your life, but you’ll be fine! You’re doing good things here! Soon enough you’ll forget all about that silly fantasy and focus on your new life.
It’s not like it’s bad, either! You like it here! It’s comforting, reliable. Nothing can truly hurt you here. Nothing can really... change either. You’ll forever be unsatisfied.
But you’ll be useful! Right?
...
Somehow, you’re starting to realize that’s not enough. You can’t just destroy everything you’ve worked for, can’t just abandon all your responsibilities. What about all the people you’ve helped, the ones desperate to know where they’re from? What about the housemaidens? Is this really how you repay their kindness? Leaving them the second something better comes?
You’re being selfish.
You can’t go, because otherwise...
“I can’t go.”
“Why not,” she asks.
“Because…”
If you do... then you might not come back.
“They want me to leave with them. To travel,” you duck your head down,” H-hehe, how silly is that? Me? Travelling? Can you imagine that?~ Why would they even ask-”
“Oh,” she responds casually, “Do you want to?”
“I- hm,” you look down.
“Hm.. you should,” she chimes.
“What?”
“People come and go all the time, even housemaidens. That’s how the Houses work. You stay for a bit, change into someone you like, or at least try to, and then you go. Sure some people dedicate themselves to the cause, but even housemaidens go on a pilgrimage,” she says.
“But the classes I teach. The books... Wouldn’t people be upset that I left?” you bring up.
“Maybe, but if you only do things so that other people don’t get upset, then what’s the point?” she shrugs, “Change is to help us be better, to live a life we like. If something better has been offered to you, then you should take it.”
You tear at one of the note’s corners, contemplating.
“You can always come back, too. If it doesn’t work out. I’m sure everyone would be happy to see you,” she offers a smile, “At least, I will.”
“It’s okay for you to live. The choice you choose is yours, though. All I’m saying is, nobody would be mad,” she finishes, and then she leaves.
You unfold the note, looking back at its words. You fidget with the coin around your neck, looking at your reflection in the metal.
Seems like you have a decision to make.
~
Stars why are you doing this why are you doing this why are you doing this???
That’s the only thought running through your head right now. Your face sweats as your hand shakily lifts itself toward the door. It’s late, the sun barely going down, but you can hear voices inside. You breathe in to keep your heart from exploding, steadying yourself.
Your hand hovers over the door.
...
Or maybe you can just go!! Haha yeah! Pretend like nothing ever happened and just leave mhm!!!
You start walking away as fast as you can but to your horror, the door opens. You jump.
“Huh? W-Wait- Loop!!” Stardust calls from down the hall. You didn’t even make it 10 steps...
“Hello stardust,” your smile is strained with your stress. They come over to you, grab your hand gently and smile softly, pulling you to the open door. Your breath hitches as you walk through. They lead you to a dining area, complete with a table and kitchen. As well as a family, with two empty seats.
Wait... two?
“Guess who finally came,” he announces. Their heads turn to you and you try to hide behind Stardust. They all seem to smile, and it’s just as beautiful as you remember, even more so. Every single one of them seems to glow, and you refuse to believe it must be for you. It couldn’t... can it?
Stardust holds your hand the whole time, even under the table when you’ve finally sat. Nobody comments on your presence yet, nothing beyond simple pleasantries. The Kid and their Sister bring over some food and serve everyone. You almost cry when you taste it.
You hold yourself back from devouring it in one go, eating at a normal human pace. Conversation has sprung around the table, even stardust has pitched in a few times. You’re more content to just listen. The Researcher thinks otherwise, though. She’s studying you, glancing back and forth between you and Stardust.
“So, Loop,” she breaks her silence, “Welcome to the group."
"Ah, t-thank you," you stammer, surprised. She smiles.
"I would like to apologize too, for earlier. It was not our intention to scare you or make you uncomfortable,” she says.
“Oh um! Me too! We didn’t mean to startle you! We just saw the flyer for your classes and w-well, you know... Um, there’s also something I’ve really wanted to say since last time,” the Housemaiden starts. You give her your full attention. “I, we would’ve been lost without you. If it weren’t for your help, Siffrin might’ve… well it wouldn’t have been anything good. And Vaugarde would’ve still been frozen too. So, um, what I’m trying to say is thank you, Loop. We wouldn’t be here without you.”
Oh!
“It’s no problem, Housemaiden,” you reply back. She sighs in relief.
“Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, do you mind if we ask a few questions?” Researcher asks and your nerves start jumping again.
“Do I have a choice in the matter?”
“You do, I just would like to have a better understanding if we’re going to be traveling together, is all,” she explains, “If something is too personal, you can choose not to answer. There’s no point in causing unnecessary stress.”
“Oh. Okay,” you agree.
Most of the questions she asks are about your current status. What camping equipment you have, how much traveling experience, any health issues, hardly anything that you’d deem too personal. You’re at this for a while before the Kid’s had enough.
“Ughh! Why’re we asking about boring stuff?” they groan, “Why not any of the important things? Like why you look like Frin.”
“Bonnie!” their sister scolds.
“I’ve been wondering that too,” Fighter admits.
“That’s probably because-” Researcher starts casually, not even looking up from her book before the housemaiden interrupts her.
“Wait,” she places a hand on her chin in thought, gasping after a few seconds, WAIT! IS IT? LIKE?? TALES FROM A TIME TRAVELLING TRAVELLER?!?!??”
Huh.
The others seem confused too, so she starts explaining.
“It’s a brutal, harrowing 50 book series about a time traveller fighting a curse,” she begins, “He chases after this mysterious figure, someone who helps him but in unconventional ways. Ooh and and! It turns out that mysterious figure, they were actually him from a past timeline!!!”
You and Stardust stare at her in shock.
“That’s not it, is it?” She looks embarrassed.
“No that’s exactly it actually,” they say, mouth still open.
“Hmmm… checks out!” Fighter adds after staring at you, “I mean, you two look and sound the same, it’s not too hard to figure out.”
“I’m just surprised Odile didn’t guess first,” Stardust comments, recovering first.
“Well I was, but Mirabelle beat me to it,” she says
“Oh! Sorry!”
“No need. At least now everything is out in the open. But Loop,” Researcher turns toward you, “If this is too personal, you can choose not to answer but… how?”
You stare at her, broken out of your frozen state of shock, only to be thrown into another one. This is it, the part where it comes out. The truth you’ve kept for so long. It’s hard to get your mouth to move, a small part of you clinging to the safety secrecy brings, the stability of your life here. If they cast you out now, you could still have it. The dull permanence, nothing ever hurting you again.
But you can’t. You must move forward. It’s what they would have wanted. It’s what they want now. For you to move on, to live.
You force the first sentence out, and everything spills from there. How you made your wish, how you were alone, how you won only to loop back again. How you failed, how you helped another you succeed. How you tried to take it all, hands on his throat, but couldn’t bring yourself to squeeze. How you faded away, only to come back. Every pain-filled moment shown through tears on your face.
And they…
They don’t hate you.
They’re sad, but for you. For you.
Mirabelle offers you a hug, both Bonnie and Isabeau joining as Stardust holds your hand. And when you sink in, everything feels right. It feels like a part of you that was missing becoming whole again. It feels like a memory becoming real. It feels like returning home.
They want you.
They want you. They want you they want you they want you they want you.
For the first time in a while, you feel satisfied, fulfilled. Loved.
You stay for as long as you can, talking with them through the night. They smile at your presence, and Stardust nudges you to say they were right.
In the morning, you’ll have to buy supplies. In the morning, you’ll have to say goodbye to the friends you’ve made at the House. In the morning, things will be different. But in the morning, you’ll start to live. For real this time. Maybe… maybe this whole living thing might turn out okay.
~
“You got everything you need?” Stardust asks, and you double check everything.
You’ve been given a week to tie up any loose ends. You’ve said goodbye to the housemaidens. They threw you a small party, something to send off housemaidens going on a pilgrimage. You’ve said goodbye to Lucille as well, thanking her. She seemed happy that you took her advice and gave you a big hug. It was nice.
You’re still going to translate any books that catch your eye, mailing them back when you’re done with them. Just, for yourself this time. And Stardust’s family… Your family. Even thinking it gives your chest a fluttery feeling, better than anything you’ve ever known.
“Hurry up you two, we don’t want to waste any sunlight,” Odile calls, leaning on the door, “Think you can handle being up this early, Librarian?”
“I have a name, you know,” you respond playfully.
“As do we,” she says, “Librarian.”
“Okay, Odile. Whatever you say, Odile,” you pout. She snorts a laugh and walks away.
“Are you ready?” Stardust turns to you.
You take a breath in, and out. They seem to follow along with you, holding out their hand in support. You take it, their thumb rubbing against yours and step out the door.
To your family.
To your new life.