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Time rifts were interesting, in that they offered a tiny glimpse into the lives of whoever they were based on. These pocket dimensions of varying stability used the memories of a certain individual to create the worlds that lie within, or… something like that.
Hat Kid wasn’t entirely sure how they worked. There were a lot of things she knew about the timepieces and their byproducts- after all, how could she not?- and yet, so many aspects of them remained entirely foreign to her, unknown, impossible for even her to understand after all this time.
What she did know was that the time rift that had appeared in her attic had gone against everything she had come to believe were rules of the rifts, coming off as an outlier of sorts. Although the varying worlds within the rift had clearly been crafted from the memories of her adventures, the storybook pages she’d found hidden within the fringe corners of these worlds had told a very different story.
In fact, they’d instead told the story of a certain mustachioed vigilante who’d taken up residence in her mind about two months ago and hadn’t left since. Hat Kid remembered her last encounter with Mustache Girl through mostly pained, bitter lenses- knowing why things had gone the way they had, yet wishing they had gone differently nonetheless-, but she’d always thought it’d be best to keep her distance after everything had happened. After all, if she’d thrown herself off of the deep end with timepieces once, who knew if things would go any differently had she been given another chance?
Besides, there was no telling how she’d actually feel about Hat Kid. There was no way she still thought they were still friends, that was for sure- not after Hat Kid had left her bruised and battered in her own castle before undoing all of her hard work. She’d be lucky if Mustache Girl even tolerated her presence… an idea that, if she were being honest with herself, didn’t feel feasible at all.
But Hat Kid had always felt guilty for leaving Mustache Girl behind the way she had, and seeing just what she’d lost throughout the years sure didn’t help with that feeling. If nothing else, Hat Kid needed to see her just one more time before she left the planet for good to ease her own conscience. That was… selfish, sure, but she’d never claimed to be morally righteous.
That title had always gone to Mustache Girl, even if she’d had choice ways of showing it.
Honestly, Hat Kid should’ve checked in on her long ago and seen how she was doing. It was probably too late to mend the tattered ends of their broken friendship- what does one even say after kicking someone’s butt and then going out of their way to avoid them for two months straight?- and all in all was a terrible idea, but… maybe her doubts were just that. Doubts.
Maybe it’d turn out better than she thought. Mustache Girl was unpredictable like that, and, well… Hat Kid would be lying if she said she didn’t miss her loud presence.
She had to try, right?
Hat Kid was strong. She could carry a lot of things with ease- an unreasonable amount of dishware, baby birds, seal pups, and even the Conductor. Carrying this massive hunk of firewood was just as easy. It had been actually finding it that had been the difficult part.
Most of the wood in Mafia Town had been reduced to being used in one of the Mafia’s varying construction projects, and she wasn’t about to go through the effort of cutting down an entire tree. She’d been lucky enough to find this thing in the first place.
Now, standing a little ways away from Mustache Girl’s hideout, she was thankful she’d actually taken the time out of her day to find the wood. She watched from a distance as Mustache Girl returned to her hideout from… wherever she’d been during the day (it sure hadn’t been Mafia Town- Hat Kid had kept an eye out for her all day), watched as she threw some sad twigs and dried little leaves into a faltering campfire, and watched as she struggled to keep the flame alive against the nighttime wind.
Right. Stalking isn’t normal. It’d be really embarrassing if she called you out on it… again. Just go on over there and act like you two didn’t fight each other. Don’t act like everyone killed themselves in front of you two just so that she wouldn’t win. Don’t act like it didn’t happen, but don’t bring it up because she’s probably- no, definitely- still mad about it. Just… be normal. No big deal.
Hat Kid made her way over to Mustache Girl’s hideout, avoiding eye contact once she was aware that she had been spotted. She could feel the girl’s eyes practically burning a hole in her skull, but it wasn’t until she stood in front of the campfire, the twisting flames separating the two of them, did she meet Mustache Girl’s gaze.
Stars, if looks could kill, she’d be dead a million times over. Hat Kid opened her mouth to speak, but words failed her, and all that came out was some stilted croak that made her immediately want to turn around and leave.
Instead, she opted to drop the hunk of firewood into the flame, watching as it roared to life. It hissed as it spat out sparks in every direction and Hat Kid slowly sat down.
Mustache Girl stared at her, her face hidden by shadows except for where the dancing firelight burned against her tanned skin, bright along her round jaw and freckled cheeks. She still looked so pretty, even now, when it looked like she was mere moments away from launching herself at Hat Kid and mauling her. How did she do… that?
And why did Hat Kid still feel that way about her, even after everything that had unfolded between them?
The silence between them was tense and heavy, cloying in the back of Hat Kid’s throat, and she wanted to claw at it until there was nothing left. It rooted itself deep into her chest, and she absentmindedly drew shapes in the sand. She knew that this had been a terrible idea. Although she knew that somewhere deep down, she had been yearning for some sort of grand reconciliation that was little more than a pipe dream, Hat Kid wasn’t sure what she expected. Not really. Nothing good, that was for sure, considering that she had just shamelessly waltzed into one of the last private spots Mustache Girl had left in her life.
Especially considering that she had only come here because the powers that be had allowed her to learn all of Mustache Girl’s secrets without her knowledge. Secrets that she probably wouldn’t have divulged in the first place, certainly not to Hat Kid of all people.
What she didn’t expect was a staring contest, Mustache Girl’s amber eyes dark against the light of the fire as she gripped the frayed ends of her tattered cape in her fists. A solid minute passed before she spoke, resentment and hate thick in her sharp voice: “What are you doing here?”
And then, before Hat Kid could come up with an answer to that question: “Haven’t you done enough already?”
“I-”
Mustache Girl laughed dryly, her voice strained. “Oh, I get it. You’re here to gloat and rub your victory against justice in my face, right?”
“No-”
“Well, I’ve got two words for you, little girl: Sod. Off.”
“I’m… older than you,” Hat Kid said after a moment.
“No, you’re not!” Mustache Girl snapped, and then she paused. “Ugh! Who cares if you are?! I don’t care! You’ve got all of these other places around the planet where people will suck up to you and do whatever you want! Why don’t you go bother them instead?” She pulled herself up. “Why do you always have to come back here?”
“That’s-”
“Oh, shut it, Hat Kid! I don’t care! I don’t want to hear your stupid voice or whatever stupid things you have to say, and I definitely don’t want your weird misplaced pity!” She kicked sand onto the flame, snuffing it out, and Hat Kid covered her face.
When she lowered her arms, the fire was no more, and Mu stared at what remained. Regret flickered in her eyes, dark and heavy, and Hat Kid wasn’t sure if it was because she had put out the flame or… everything else.
And then she turned swiftly, walking out towards the water. Hat Kid got up, brushing the sand off of her tunic, and hesitated. This had been a terrible idea. A terrible, selfish idea.
She approached Mu, wanting to reach out and do… something. She wasn’t sure what that something was, and so she stood beside her, allowing her gaze to fall onto the ocean. She watched as the waves churned and crashed against each other, the moonlight glittering off of the surface, and found herself yearning to return to something she couldn’t quite describe.
Then, her gaze traveled from the water to something much closer- Mustache Girl. She stared at her bushy eyebrows, the gentle slope of her nose, and then at her hands. She stood there, clenching and unclenching her fists, and in the darkness, Hat Kid could just barely make out her red knuckles.
The skin was broken and bitten and Hat Kid’s heart pulled tight inside her chest.
“I wanted to say that I’m sorry,”
Mustache Girl’s shoulders trembled and she laughed again, dry and forced, but there was something else to it. Something painfully familiar. “I don’t care.”
“Really, I am,”
“Go away.”
“I just… I shouldn’t have-”
She jerked her head to look over at Hat Kid, steady in her anger. “Can’t you tell that you’ve already overstayed your welcome?” She snapped, her voice cutting into Hat Kid like a hot knife, digging right where it hurt the most.
Hat Kid recoiled this time, guilt surging in her throat.
“Just… go home, already, if you know what’s good for you.”
She didn’t want to leave her out in the cold. Hat Kid hated how helpless she felt, how that guilt she felt stung at her throat and the backs of her eyes. She hated how it pounded against her temples, hammering nonstop. She hated that she didn't hate Mustache Girl. She hated that Mustache Girl hated her.
She was the one who broke eye contact this time, tearing her eyes away, and then she turned away.
She took one step, Mustache Girl’s gaze still burning a hole into the back of her skull.
Hat Kid was always the one with her back turned. Always the one leaving. Leaving home, leaving her friends, leaving… everything.
She took one step, and then another. She was lucky, though. At least she had something to return to.
Not everyone was as fortunate.
She paused again, and with her back still facing Mustache Girl, cleared her throat and started to speak. “You know… if you want a place to stay, my ship is always open. I know we’re not friends, but… yeah. If you want to stay someplace warm for the night… it’s there.” She paused. “I won’t ask questions.”
She kept walking- one heavy step after another- and to that, Mustache Girl said nothing at all.