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Water. Nutrients. Light.
Those are the three things you need for a beautiful garden. For plants of all kinds. The vegetables and the fruits. The trees and the flowers. The bushes and the mushrooms.
The bark and the roots and the seeds.
Those are things you need for the leaves of any plant.
Leafy knows this quite well. She’s well aware that is what a plant needs.
She lives off these three things. She can live off these three things. It’s why, in the place she finds herself, she has no qualms about the possibility of dying tonight. She can drink from the waterfall. She can absorb the light of the sun. She can forage through berries or dirt for food.
Sometimes it feels strange. To scoop a handful of the earth and consume it, not for fun or games like someone like Coiny would do so, but simply for the substance and comfort. She gets why its offputting to others, but to her, it's completely natural.
She lies in the tent she found here, a nice, comfortable little thing. White sheets draped over the poles, and a dark and thin mattress that covers the ground beneath her. From this angle, she can see the cliffside of this realm. She sees the stars, twinkling away in the night sky.
She sees the moon, brilliantly bright in the sky.
The moon always remains a fascination to Leafy. No matter how terrible life becomes, the moon will always be there. It’s like the sun of the night.
Leafy loves the moon just as much as she loves the sun. She loves how soft it seems up in the sky, and how beautifully it paints the world. She loves how far the light stretches across the world, despite how small this orbital satellite is.
She loves how, despite shining with the light of the sun, it pulls and swings the Earth to some degree. It still holds importance.
It is…beautiful.
She thinks over her moon and sun in one. Her intense blaze and her cool, beautiful shine.
Her flame.
A smile crosses her lips as she wonders where he is. Her hand reaches up, covering the moon. One of her eyes closes.
She imagines his hand fitting against hers, like a glove. She wonders how long it’s been since she felt that familiarly satisfying sensation of holding his hand.
It’s been so long since she last saw him. Since the storm on Dreamier Island that took her from him. Since being trapped in that other world for so long.
Since One took her away.
And it’s been so much longer since she’s come to this place. A smile crosses Leafy’s lips, remembering how angry the blue algebralien had become.
All she did was provide her advice on how to be a nicer person. One would definitely be moved down on Leafy’s nice list, guaranteed. Even if part of her advice-giving was a jab at making fun of her kidnapper, she still gave her decent advice.
“I’ll wait for you, Firey.”
She said that. She said that on the first day she came here.
She said that on the third day she stayed here. She said that on the ninth day, she was stranded here.
“I’ll wait for you, Firey.”
Her Firey. Her Fireball, her flame, her warmth. Her moon and her sun.
She loves the moon. Leafy loves the moon and sun.
“I’m still waiting, Firey.” She murmurs into the cool air of the night. He won’t hear her, but she hopes he’ll feel her hope.
Despite everything, she feels she can be hopeful for her Firey.
“I’ll wait for you.”
…
The moonlight shines once again upon her. She finishes pushing her sleeping bag into the tent, having cleaned it off earlier that day. Her lips curl into a smile when she tosses another piece of bark into the fire.
Firey loves bark. He loves coal, and he loves twig, and he loves crinkled leaves.
He consumes fuel in a manner that feels enticing and funny. The fire here consumes in much the same way.
She sits beside it, staring intensely into its depths. In a way, she spies his eyes staring back, brilliant and beautiful. She sees cinder sticks of birch by the base of the fire, and compares them to how his hands look.
Her fingers reach forward, hovering over the fire. Warmth spreads deep in her as she imagines how his face turns a soft shade of azure from her teasing.
The fire licks her fingers, but she doesn’t mind. Years of being metalised thanks to Yoyle Berries have left their permanent mark on her, so fire doesn’t burn her as badly. Her epidermis is rougher and dimmer than most normal leaves. The edges are crinkled, like they’ve aged.
She regrets how dependent she became on Yoyle berries. She’s sworn she won’t ever become addicted to them again, and she knows she’ll hold that promise.
But she doesn’t regret what they made her into. She doesn’t hate how her body isn’t as smooth or as perfect as it was years ago. She doesn’t regret that she isn’t as “perfect” as a plant like her should be.
Because it means she can hug her fireman for just a few seconds more than normal.
Leafy loves him like she loves the moon. She loves him like a friend, and she loves him like he’s everything more. No matter what happens, nothing can change that.
There are Yoyle Berry bushes around here, but she doesn’t go for them. She wants to remain herself, completely.
She wants to be Leafy when Firey finds her.
“I’ll wait for you, Firey.”
Her Firey. Her charming and kind, sweet and warm, adorable and amazing, Firey. Her one true flame.
She’s suffered for so many years. She was abandoned and isolated by everyone. She was vilified and hated by everyone.
She was rejected by everyone, him included.
And yet, she has always held out hope for him. She hopes because she believes. She believes because she loves.
She loves him. No matter what.
The years of chasing and being ignored. The time spent trying to talk and receiving only anger or indifference. The suffering of eating Yoyle Berries in an unhealthy obsession to try to plug the hole when she was isolated last time around.
This time, she’s not isolated by choice. She’s not hated and scorned by everyone,
She knows that this time, Firey will not ignore her because he does not hate her.
She suspects that maybe, just maybe, he holds the same feelings she does. She hopes to see him again. She hopes the tell him how she feels once again.
“C’mon, Fireman.” She whispers into the night, her lips curled in a soft smile. “I know you can do it. I know you’ll find me.”
She imagines how excited he can become when she gives him her encouragement. She wishes she could hold his hand, feel his flames, and tell him everything she wants to say.
HISS!!!!
Her hand slips out of the fire, rough and burnt. Pushing it into the ground, the heat is muffled by the dirt.
It hurts just like how loving him hurt. It hurts like how she tried to fill the holes in her heart with those sickly sweet berries.
But Leafy doesn’t care. She’ll continue to love him regardless.
“I know you can find me. I’m sure you’ll do it.”
She’s held her heart to that flame for ten years.
“I’m waiting for you.”
She loved him when they finally made up and built up Dreamier Island together.
“I’m waiting.”
She’ll hold her heart to him for ten more.
…
The moon is not a very good source of photosynthesis. The moon does not hold enough light to feed plants and help them to survive. If there were no day, the moon could not possibly give plant life the light it needs to live.
For the month she’s been here, Leafy could survive with the sun. She lived with the grace of that blazing ball of fire and plasma in the sky as it shone brightly. She knew she could sustain off of that.
If not, then she could use the berries and the soil. Coupled with the sun, they would keep her fed and sustained.
But then…then it had happened.
The world had shaken like mad. The skies had been blotted out with intense darkness, like a winter blanket.
And now, she lay in the greyed-out soil. The moon had been the only light for so many days that she lost count of what a day was.
She felt hungry. She felt cold.
The only true food she could find was the Yoyle Berries. But she would never eat those.
Her body was huddled by flames. Flames fuelled by scraps of old leaves from the dead trees and bark from their trunks. She was skilled at carving out pieces of bark to fuel the fire.
The fire made her feel warm. The fire cooked the bark, making its rough texture a little easier to consume. It tasted terrible, but it worked.
And even if the fire burned away and she was left alone in the darkness, she vowed to rebuild it again. She had to. She needed to.
She needs the fire.
Her knees press into her chest as she holds another piece of wood over the fire. The flames lick and eat away at it, taking their share of the meal.
She imagines it is Firey, tilting his face up to take a nice bite of the offering while he cooks it for her.
She smiles.
She misses him. She’ll stay true to herself for his sake. She won’t touch those dammed Yoyle Berries, because she knows he is coming.
“I’ll wait for you, Firey.”
He’s coming. Firey is coming.
“I’ll wait for you, Firey.”
She knows he is.
…
The rain pours through a gap in the tent. It makes her whine as she patches up the hole with a piece of sticky, wet twigs and leaves. The stuff makes for a good sealant against the water, but smells like dew.
She doesn’t like it. It’s cold.
She wants to be warm. She wants to feel the fire again.
Firey would squeal and cry in this kind of weather. Rain was his kryptonite, his Achilles tendon.
She liked the rain then because she could hold him close as they waited for storms to pass.
She likes the rain when Firey is with her.
But Leafy does not like the rain right now. She does not enjoy the coldness, or the wetness, or her inability to hold some flames.
She wishes she could hold some flames. Her stomach grumbles with hunger, hunger that the sticks and leaves and remnant berries won’t satisfy.
She scoops up some of the soil. A tiny handful of the stuff. Once soft, lumpy brown, it's now more akin to grey ashes.
Leafy hates ashes. Leafy swallows down the handful, and Leafy hates how sandy it tastes.
It’s dry. It lacks the nutrient she seeks. It doesn’t hold any kind of value, besides looking depressing and ugly.
She hates it. She hates this.
“Ugh.” She groans, rolling onto her back. Right now, even the moonlight would suffice for her to stare at.
Her eyes twitch.
She wants flames. She wants the sun. She wants the sky.
“I’ll wait for you, Firey.”
She wants her Firey. She wants to wrap herself up in a blanket and snuggle up next to him and his warmth. She wants to feel his soft kisses through the fabric to her hands, her face, and so much more.
She’s so cold and so hungry.
She hates the cold. She hates the hunger.
But she hates the Yoyle Berries more, so she refuses to eat them.
She has to remain true to herself.
“Firey is coming.” She tells herself. “He’s coming.”
She’s scared. She’s alone. She hasn’t been this alone since she was hunted down by everyone for stealing Dream Island.
And recently she’s been feeling like she’s back there again, too. Back there in Yoyle Land. Back there with deep, violet grasses and god awfully addiction berries.
“I’m…I’m waiting for you.” She whispers tiredly to him, wherever he is.
Her hand gropes the ground beside her, trying to picture that he is there. Trying to imagine the wonderful gaze of his eyes, or the sound of his voice.
“I... know you’ll find me.” She whispers hopefully. “I’m waiting for you.”
Despite everything, she still hopes to see him again one day.
One day.
“I’ll wait for you, Firey.”
“I’ll wait for you…Firey.” She whispers.
She loves him.
…
Leafy scrapes a finger along her stomach. The metal skin spikes with a second of pain that dissipates in an instant.
She feels disgusting. She swore she would keep off the berries.
Firey’s coming. Firey will be here. Any day now, Firey will come.
She feels comfort, sitting amongst the fire pit. The upside to being metal is that she can be closer to the flames. She can feel them lick and snake around her like a blanket.
But still, Leafy hates herself for what she did.
She promised not to touch the Yoyle Berries. She promised not to eat them. She promised she wouldn’t fill the hole in her with these stupidly addictive berries.
What a great promise keeper she is.
And though she enjoys the fire, it isn’t what she wants. She has grown bored of these flames, flames that keep demanding food. Flames that won’t get hot enough.
Firey’s flames stayed active for as long as he breathed. Firey could become as hot and comforting as she needed.
Leafy doesn’t just want fire; she wants Firey and his fire.
She wants her Firey.
“I’ll wait for you, Firey.”
Her words on the first day she came here seem to mock her. That cheerful tone and that hopeful attitude she held disgusted her to no end.
She hates that naive girl. She hates that stupidly annoying thing with every fiber or her being.
Leafy hates the one who said those words.
“I’ll wait for you, Firey.”
Firey is coming, and Leafy feels like she isn’t good enough. She broke her promise to herself. She made herself look like this again.
She ate those stupid berries, and she wants to eat them again.
Disgusting.
Leafy is disgusting.
“Please.” She pleads out into the world.
Leafy hates herself.
“Where are you….Fireman?”
Leafy wishes she could have her Firey.
“I’m still waiting for you.”
…
Leafy feels sick. Leafy feels cold. Leafy feels dead.
Her body lies motionless on the ground. Her breathing is slow, her limbs barely moving.
The fire pit is dead. She needs to go and rebuild it.
But she can’t.
She just can’t.
Her mind feels so tired. She feels hungry, hungry for warmth.
His warmth.
She only wants her Firey’s fire. Not the flames of a pit, not the flames from a campfire.
Her Firey’s fire.
“Firey.” She murmurs, like that will bring him back to her.
“Firey.” She murmurs, as if he could hear her.
“Firey.” She murmurs, as if she still hopes he will find her.
He’s looking for her. He is, she knows he is.
And she….looks like this. She is this.
A metallic body in the shape of a lemon leaf. Someone who was so beautifully green and full of life, now looking dirty and grey, the same colour as the cursed, ashy excuse for soil.
Her fingers move in the only filthy movement a person like her can manage. From her side, to her lip.
Gulp!
Another Yoyle Berry slides down her gullet.
It’s sweet. It tastes filling, making the hunger dissipate. It spreads a subtle warmth over her.
But it amplifies her body becoming metal again.
Leafy hates nothing more than being Metal Leafy.
Her eyes water subtly as she consumes another berry.
She’s getting attached to these filthy things again; she knows it. She can’t help but put one in her mouth, hold it there, chew it around, and then swallow.
Her other hand clenches at the dirt.
“Firey…” She whispers, beggingly, to the universe.
Leafy wants the warmth again.
“I’ll wait for you, Firey.”
“Firey…” She begs.
Leafy wants her flame.
“I’m…still waiting for you.”
Leafy yearns for her Firey.
…
Water. Nutrients. Light.
Those are the three things you need for a beautiful garden. For plants of all kinds. The vegetables and the fruits. The trees and the flowers. The bushes and the mushrooms.
The bark and the roots and the seeds.
Those are things you need for the leaves of any plant.
Leafy knows this quite well. She’s well aware that is what a plant needs.
She does not live off these things anymore. She does not receive sunlight, for there is no sun to light the sky. She does not drink water from the waterful, because her mouth chooses to drink from the Yoyle Berries. She does not seek nutrients from anything anymore, except for the berries.
Yet, even she knows she can’t keep doing this. She can’t let herself eat these berries any longer.
GULP!!!
The last one slips between her lips, through the razor-sharp knives her teeth have become, and down her throat.
She feels weak. She feels cold.
Her eyes water as she silently cries. This isn’t right.
This isn’t what she wants.
So she decides to do something about it.
Her body moves despite her mind’s protests. Her teeth grind into a firm bite behind her lips, even as her eyes blink away tired tears. Her focus is on something, anything.
Her body is stronger when it's metal. So she uses that strength to rip apart the old trees.
CRACK!!! SNAP!!! CRACK!!!
The noise is frightening to listen to. She must sound like a wild animal or something psychotic with how she just rips the huge sections of trunk off.
Eventually, it’s enough. Once it’s out of the way, she starts her next phase.
Digging out the fire pit to fit all of her kindling.
As soon as she starts, it’s over. Her mind and body do not interact; she just moves. She moves through all of the steps of starting this fire.
Her mind thinks back to him.
Firey. Her Firey.
He’s coming for her, she knows it. He will find her.
God, she’s felt hopeless for so long that it’s unintentionally rerouted itself into a soft hope.
Her eyes blinked. Her knees collapsed.
The flames roared higher into the air than ever before, dense and powerful.
Leafy found she was dragging herself right into the pit of the intense fires. Right into its core.
She settles comfortably amidst the inferno, imagining it to be him. She breaths slow, deep breaths, even as smoke rises around her.
If there’s one good thing about being a plant, it's being able to breathe through carbon emissions.
It's funny. It makes her laugh. She often breathes better in a situation like this, while Firey breathes better in cleaner, more open air.
Leafy can create clean, fresh air from the very breaths she makes, and he makes the plumes of carbonated smoke she thrives through whenever he gets embarrassed or flustered.
Sitting here in the inferno, it’s almost like she’s sitting with him again. Her body feels hot, incredibly hot, and her mind feels calm.
The moon shines down on her in such a beautiful manner that for the first time in months….she smiles.
She smiles in the midst of the fire.
“Firey.” She whispers his name, leaving her lips like a prayer.
Despite everything, if there’s one thing she still wants…
“Please, Firey….I’m still waiting for you.”
It’s her Firey.
…
Leafy remains silent in the cool aftermath of her grandeur fire pit. She built it almost a month ago, and it continued to burn for her for nearly a week and a half.
She loved it. She loved how much of it she had, despite the constant need to put more fuel into it. She loved it because the bark within softened to a nice, chewable consistency.
This fire made her like eating bark for once. Go figure.
But she knows that no flame can truly last. This one’s completely out. A giant pile of ashes and wrecked logs was piled atop freshly made charcoal.
Nothing burns forever. Nothing….except for the two things.
Firey. And Leafy’s hope.
The moonlight gazes down upon her from the gap in the clouds. From her estimation, it must have been a full year since she was here.
A full year alone. A full year, so cold and hungry.
A full year, without Firey.
The moon is nice, but it’s no sun.
So she does something she hasn’t done in a long time. She thinks back to her time with Firey in Dreamier Island.
Her eyes shut. The memories make her smile.
How he’d screamed whenever there was a leak in the boat, or in that makeshift house they had tried making. How he'd try to put on his bravest face at night despite how every small sound and snip in the dark frightened him to no end.
How he’d become a roaring, vibrantly azure flame at one moment when he was stressed in one moment. And then how he’d simmer down to a softer, cooler and dimmer scarlet when he was calm or tired.
How he made her feel. He truly made her feel all of that.
Firey hurt her. Leafy knows that. He hurts her when she tries to get close to him because he burns her. But he also hurt her when he kept pushing her away, rejecting her, and making her feel like a terrible person, because of a mistake. Because of a misunderstanding that cost her ten years.
Because she had stolen Dream Island.
“Firey.” She whispers with tears in her eyes.
She knows….deep down she knows that it was wrong, she apologised. She knows she was hurt far more than he was to be apologising to him.
But truth be told, Leafy does not care. Leafy knows deep down that she isn’t as kind as she wants to believe. She isn’t the nicest person ever, despite what her charts say. Despite what she says.
And yet… even given everything she’s gone through…
“Please, Firey…..I’m waiting for you.”
…Leafy would continue to love him the way she’s loved him for the last 10 or so years.
“I’m still waiting.”
Leafy will love Firey until the sun stops burning and the moon drifts away.
…
It’s close to the first anniversary mark of her separation from Firey.
Leafy can’t help but curl into a ball, despondent and alone. Her body is no longer metal, which is the one good thing about Yoyle Berry addiction, for her case at least. When the fruit stops pushing between her lips, her body slowly returns to its natural, leafy self.
Her epidermis looks like an ugly greyish green, resembling sludge. The edges of her body are crinkled and creased. Her teeth are still sharper than knives, and she’s more than once bitten the edge of her tongue off.
Truthfully, though, she doesn’t care. The only thing she has left is the thought of him. The hope for him.
Her love for him.
Her lips part. From them, something old comes from her.
Maybe it’s the insanity of being alone again for so long. Maybe it’s just what happens when she spends longer than a year with nobody and nothing.
Maybe in her love for the one person who has hurt her most, she has hurt herself worse than any blade or bullet ever could.
But Leafy lets out words to an old song. A song she and Firey liked to listen to while they were on that boat, searching for an island to call theirs.
A song that Firey loved to hear her sing.
“Moon….a hole of light.”
Her voice comes out creaky.
“Through the big top….tent….up high.”
Her voice comes out shaky.
“Here before and….after me.”
Her tone and pitch seem wrong. Too rough, too off note, too hurt.
“Shinin’ down….here on….me.”
It hurts to sing this song.
“Moon….tell me if I could…”
But….
“...send….my heart…straight up….to you?”
….it’s also easy to say.
“So…when I die which….I-I must do…”
His face comes to mind. His eyes looked deep into hers. His smile as she listens to her sing.
“Could it shine down….here with you?”
Firey never cares how she looks. He never cares how she sounds. He doesn’t care what she did.
She rolls onto her back, gazing up at the sky. The moon peers down at her, and it makes her heart thump.
Somewhere out there, he’s looking at that same moon. He’s looking at the same sky she’s looking at.
Does he feel this same way? Does he feel as close to her as she does to him?
Is Firey…still burning for her?
She knows that she’s always been burning for him.
“Cuz…my love…is m…mine…all mine.”
Whatever she feels, she knows these words are true. This…melody is her truth.
The way her heart thumps loud in her chest, pounding like a fist against her ribs, is absolutely true.
“My love….mine, mine, mine….”
Her eyes feel heavy. Her heart feels heavy.
“Nothing in the world b-belongs to….to me…”
But still….she sings.
“But….”
She sings until she can’t. She sings until she can’t hold on.
“...my love…”
She’s still waiting.
“...is mine all mine.”
Leafy will wait for as long as she needs…
“I love you….mine, mine, mine.”
…to find her flame again.
“Nothing in the world is….my….mine for…free.”
She waited ten years before they finally made up.
“But my love…”
She spent three years with him, building Dreamier Island.
“...mine all mine…”
She’ll wait ten more if she needs to. For Firey, she’ll wait a century. For Firey, she can wait till everything goes dark.
“...all miiinnneee……”.
Leafy will always be ready for her Firey.