Chapter Text
Once upon a time, there was a star in the sky. The star's mother was the moon, and the star's father was the sun.
The star's parents loved it very much. The moon gave it gentle moonlight, the sun gave it brilliant golden hues. The star grew up in love.
One day, the star heard another child crying on the ground.
"Why are you crying?"
"Because I've lost my mother."
The child's weeping in the night made every living creature stop for him, and even the star's heart was about to break.
So the star took the love its parents had given it and turned itself into a fruit as red as blood.
"Eat this, and you will see your mother at the end of your dreams."
The child believed it. He missed his mother so much.
He fell into a boundless dream, walking through mountains and rivers, experiencing cold winters and hot summers.
In the dream, the child grew up, grew old, became decrepit.
Finally, at the end of the dream, the edge of the world, the child saw his mother.
His mother was still loving, still gentle—but he was no longer a child. He could not be his mother's child anymore.
"It's all right, dear. I can still hold you."
He cried, cried like a child, until he turned back into a child.
A shooting star crossed the sky. Whose wish had come true?
The child didn't know. All he knew was that his mother's embrace was like a cradle, like a sailboat. Rocking, swaying. It would carry him to the other shore, to the end of the shooting star's fall.
—The End
You closed the book after finishing the story and looked at Pierrot on the grass beside you.
"What did you think of that story?"
Pierrot slowly rubbed his fingers over the back of your hand, a familiar touch. His eyes, as always golden, looked at you.
"It's a little sad."
"And... I'm a bit confused, my lady... Did this story make me a child?"
The sunset painted the sky orange, clouds drifting quietly away. Your amused expression was lit brilliantly by the setting sun, and he felt a bit dazed—he'd seen you smile like that somewhere before.
"Of course not. But don't you think some parts sound familiar?"
"Like turning into a child again in a dream. A reborn mother, real or not."
You lay down on the picnic blanket, propping yourself up on your arms.
"Don't you remember? That 'fruit as red as blood'—no memory of it either?"
Pierrot stared at your smile for a few seconds, his face flushing. He smiled happily and rolled over to hug you tightly.
"I actually don't remember clearly... I think I found it, and then... made it into a cake? Or something else... I remember it tasted good, and I thought you might like it too, so I went to find you..."
"After that... the only impression I have is a pair of hands gently stroking and holding me, and a sweet voice... Was that you, my dear?"
He paused. "But there also seemed to be... many other colors, spinning before my eyes."
"Purple... red... blue... and that annoying green..."
At the last word, he glanced subtly at a banyan tree behind you, then before you could notice, lay back on you and murmured:
"...Was that Harlequin and the others?"
Oh... He looked so cute from this angle. First, a head rub.
You and a disheveled but sweetly smiling Pierrot lay back down, letting the breeze ruffle your clothes.
"Yeah, it's them."
You looked into those beautiful golden eyes—watery, brimming with love, gratitude, joy... and so much more. You couldn't help covering them with his own hand and gently kissed the back of it, unwilling to let any impurity touch that brilliant gaze.
"Your memories sound just like the standard amnesia ending for a fairy tale protagonist."
"Even the reason you shrank is as simple as a fairy tale."
"It's because you, you greedy goblin, ate something you shouldn't have."
Who was making noise? Ruining your perfect narrative opening!
A splash of bright green squeezed in beside you.
Oh, it was you. Never mind.
You and Pierrot both sat up. He protectively pulled you into his arms, not letting that certain someone touch you.
"Why are you here again?"
"Is that a question? Your tone doesn't sound like you're asking me."
The scene that tired your heart seemed to be back—so familiar, so unmissed.
Harlequin caught your ankle, which was sticking out from Pierrot's protective range, and squeezed it mischievously.
A flash of cold light grazed his sleeve, pinning his hand firmly to the grass.
"Tsk, so petty."
Harlequin's eyes darted around. Suddenly he continued the story you hadn't finished.
"That fairy tale might be fake, but the red fruit is real. And it's right in our home, in Doctor's hands."
"...Doctor?"
Pierrot's attention was successfully diverted. You noticed Harlequin silently pulling out the knife pinned to his sleeve and putting it away, so you took the chance to withdraw your ankle.
Harlequin just glanced at you and continued his story session.
"Yeah. He got it from a fool. But before he could study it, some glutton beat him to it." He clicked his tongue, his eyes full of mockery, meaningfully looking at Pierrot.
Pierrot said nothing, just clenched his fists.
He didn't speak, but you did. You clapped your hand over Harlequin's mouth and seized the narrative. Another five minutes—no, three—of his embellishments and there'd be a fight.
"That fool used to be a photographer. He took many pictures of rare desert plants. Doctor originally just wanted him to collect some plant images, but amidst all the earthy yellows, he noticed that one touch of bright red."
So on the day Pierrot shrank, Doctor had asked the fool to bring him the fruit. He knew the fool must have picked it—humans are greedy.
But before he could start his research, the fool, driven by an intense fear of death, broke free of Jester's control and lost the fruit near Pierrot's tent.
"I couldn't find the fruit, and I couldn't find Pierrot. That day I asked bil to look for him, intending just to ask if he'd seen it."
"But I never expected to find him in this state." Ticket Taker looked calm, but he said it with a sigh.
Everyone's attention had been caught by the sudden appearance of the cub, and Doctor, not knowing the fruit's effects, had never made the connection.
Meanwhile, the unknowing Jester had already granted the fool's fantasy, turning him into little Pierrot's meals for those days.
"Then where do we find another fruit?"
With no physical evidence and no witness, you remembered how helplessly you'd crouched down, feeling that the hope of Pierrot returning to normal was slim.
"No, sweetie, that fruit must still be here." Doctor's firm tone struck you as odd, but the others all confirmed his statement.
"It seems you don't know Pierrot well enough yet."
Jester held one hand before his chest, the other on his chin, looking at you with an ambiguous smile:
"If Pierrot got a delicious fruit he'd never seen before, his first instinct would be to share, not to hoard."
"And we didn't receive anything." Harlequin put his arm around your neck and tilted your chin.
Ticket Taker had already reached into a mirror and looked back to wave you over. "So that fruit must have been taken by him to your house."
And indeed, when you opened your refrigerator, there sat a red velvet cake with a missing piece, still looking fresh even after days. The red jam filling bled down the cake like a slowly seeping wound.
"With the ingredient, Doctor handled the rest on his own."
"The rest of us just kept you company and played along for a few more days."
A sudden wet, ticklish feeling on your palm made you jerk your hand back as if shocked. You met Harlequin's teasing gaze.
"ma'am~ You have dramatic potential. You should come discuss things with me more often... Maybe next it'll be you under the spotlight in the green tent~"
Slap—
A palm landed on Harlequin's face. Pierrot tightened his arms around you and whispered in your ear, "Don't listen to him, my lady."
Harlequin slapped his hand away, wiping his mask in disgust. Pierrot also took your hand and wiped off someone's saliva in disgust.
You looked left and right, very helpless. "I thought you two might get along better after these past few days."
"Yeah, I've been so dutifully 'caring' for you for days, and I can't even get a thank you?"
Harlequin's smiling mask now looked very cunning. "When you think about it, if you hadn't eaten that mystery fruit, I wouldn't have been reduced to this..."
You shot Harlequin a reproachful look with your eyes, then felt the Pierrot's arms around you tighten. You quickly searched your mind for comforting words, afraid Pierrot would get furious again and they'd fight.
But Pierrot turned his face away, leaned into your shoulder, and didn't look at Harlequin. Muffled, he said:
"Thanks..."
"..."
"Sorry..."
Your shoulder was held by Pierrot. You couldn't see his face or Harlequin's expression, only two noticeably restrained breaths.
The sun had hidden below the horizon while you were reminiscing. Now only scattered stars twinkled in the sky. On this hill far from the town, you could take in the similarly twinkling lights of the town below—like stars reflected on water. The world was utterly still.
Pierrot didn't know when he'd let go of you, or when the three of you had lain down on the ground, or why, in the silent world, he could only hear your soft murmur.
"It's good that you've always been well loved."
Pierrot's parents must have been very gentle beings. They taught him how to see everything with optimism, how to kindly help other creatures, how to warmly shelter the weak, how to generously share...
To be someone he loved meant receiving a downpour of affection. To be his family meant receiving total devotion. To be his friend meant receiving unquestioning trust...
Why should such a good being have lost his parents so young? Why should he have wandered as a child?
You secretly turned your head to look at Harlequin, who had closed his eyes, and recalled the night he'd vaguely talked about their shared past.
Maybe Pierrot really had moved a star to wish for him to be loved by family again, to be without barriers with his old friend again.
But the star didn't know, there was no need for that.
Even if Pierrot hadn't shrunk, Jester would still care for him and comb his hair, Doctor would still give him candy and pat his head, Ticket Taker would still attend to his needs, and Harlequin wouldn't leave him isolated and helpless.
He didn't need any extra wishes. He already had so many good things.
You pressed your forehead to Pierrot's and smiled warmly.
"How wonderful. Long before I met you, you were already a very, very good being."
"A very, very annoying being."
...There went the mood-killer.
Pierrot ignored Harlequin. He pressed back against you, rubbing his head against yours. His soft silver-white hair tangled with yours, and his golden eyes had never been so pure and bright.
"Thank you... my love..."
You smiled and tapped your forehead against his. "You're welcome from me. What about the others?"
You glanced back and whispered, "You need to say thank you to Harlequin again."
Pierrot's brow furrowed.
You pressed a finger to his forehead.
"Don't be like that. You have no idea how hard you were to catch. He was the one watching you the whole time, even took you out to play."
A sly smile crossed your face. You leaned in even closer and whispered super quietly:
"And when he was helping Doctor make the recovery potion, he had an accident and shrank too......and he—AHHHHHHH!"
Suddenly you were lifted by the collar, choking, your feet dangling in the air. You flailed wildly, hitting the hands behind you to no avail.
"Harlequin!"
At your scream, a fist flew toward Harlequin's face. He blocked it with his other hand, just grazing the bell on his hat, which jingled.
"hum... I think I preferred the version of you who couldn't even reach my collar."
Harlequin let go, and you fell back into Pierrot's arms. He immediately wrapped you tightly and moved several meters away.
"How are you eavesdropping?" you muttered.
"How are you telling secrets? You untrustworthy Miss liar." Harlequin turned to you, smiling darkly.
Pierrot's fists cracked. "Don't call her that."
...Harlequin had asked you not to tell Pierrot. You hadn't agreed, but you didn't dare speak now.
Harlequin looked back and forth between you and Pierrot, then suddenly changed tack. He put one hand on his hip, his smile turning sly:
"Oh... come to think of it, I did help you change clothes..."
"Want to guess if I kept any souvenir photos?"
Hearing that kind of provocation, you were relieved—you hadn't given him your phone then.
But then you noticed your phone had appeared in Harlequin's hand.
Wait... when?
...
Did that mean he had also...
You despaired. Was this fight unavoidable after all?
But contrary to your and Harlequin's expectations, the smile on Pierrot's mask suddenly turned sinister. A perfect evil grin appeared on his face.
"Why don't you guess how much I remember? Especially the hour before I turned back..."
That evil grin grew even worse.
"Or the hour after you shrunk."
With that, Pierrot scooped you up and ran off at top speed, leaving a stunned Harlequin in his dust.
From over Pierrot's shoulder, you shouted helplessly:
"I didn't tell him! I was just teasing him I didn't know he remembered! I... AHHHHHH! Pierrot, slower!"
Soon the town's streets were filled with your yells, a string of curses, and the sound of two monsters chasing each other. Any passersby who looked toward the noise only saw two shadows—red and green—streak past, and couldn't even yell at you for disturbing the peace because you were gone.
The commotion was so loud that Jester, back at the circus, got a headache and assigned the three of you extra work. Ticket Taker silently took the schedule and adjusted your rotations.
But before Ticket Taker left the tent, Jester called out to him.
"How's that new camera of Doctor's coming along?"
"I checked today. He's already successfully developed one photo."
"Which one?"
"The one of little Harlequin dragging little Pierrot and running away and shouting 'Who are you? Don't come near us!'"
"Excellent."
An even more sinister grin appeared on Jester's and the Ticket Taker's faces. In the neighboring darkroom tent, Doctor, happily washing photos, grinned just as wickedly.
The circus could finally look forward to a long stretch of peaceful days.
Bouncing on Pierrot's shoulder, you felt sick. The world shook violently. In the blur, only Pierrot's face—his smile so wide the mask had split—was crystal clear.
You struggled to lift your head, wanting to tell Harlequin not to be angry anymore and to stop chasing—weren't you two even?
But Harlequin's face showed no anger or shame, only the excitement of a hunter enjoying the chase.
...Only you were miserable in this world.
...
Liar. It was actually pretty fun.
Night had fully fallen. Another gust of evening wind rose, sweeping three different kinds of laughter into the air. Your shrieks had somehow turned into "Pierrot, faster faster! He's catching up!"
"My dear, please hold on tight to me!"
"Ha! Slow as a snail. I'm about to touch her~"