Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Marisa's back was lying flat against the hardwood floor. It was cold on the floor, but she didn't move.

There was little point in moving from the floor, as she wouldn't really do anything once she got up.

She didn't want to do anything, as there was little point in that.

Everything she's done so far, all of the work refining her skill, trying her best, doing her best, was such a waste...

Whenever she was close to a breakthrough in her magical experiments, it all just falls apart, the notes stop making sense, and there magically happened to be a fatal error in something she hurriedly scribbled down.

Whenever she tried solving an incident, Reimu would always be a step ahead, and if not her, some Youkai or even Sanae would be minutes from getting all the glory to themselves. They'd defeat the strongest Youkai causing the incidents and get to be the ones who learn and get better each time.

All the while she's left in the dust, scrambling to pull her act together, to come up with something better, to train even harder, ask Alice to duel her more, challenge Patchouli to a fight, or bother half of Gensokyo to have a bit more training.

By being either irritated or interested enough, they'd usually accept, and she'd grow a bit from the experience, she'd get better, and so would they.

She was fine with that, if they get stronger, she'd have more of a challenge, more training, basically...

But in the face of Reimu's sheer natural intuition, of sheer talent and skill, unsurpassable no matter how hard she tried, she struggled to find any motivation to actually continue.

It just... felt unfair.

She knows that it isn't right to call it unfair, Reimu still worked hard to beat most of her opponents, she had to use her wit and skill to outmaneuver and outflank in the battlefield. She knows that Reimu trains from time to time, developing her skill... but Marisa does as well, and each time she seems to get close, to achieve parity at the very least, Reimu just jumps ahead.

Each and every time, all her attempts, all her training and duels, all the fights she picked, rendered nearly irrelevant by the sheer absurdity of Reimu's abilities. And maybe it isn't exactly possible to compete against what literally might be the protagonist of Gensokyo if there ever was one, so she should just give up on that... But so long as she's in the Youkai extermination business, she needs to try being the best, to not slip down to third place, to not lose what skills she already has developed.

So, she let that go. She stopped battling as hard, stopped struggling against the current of the world.

It felt nice at first, that she didn't have any more pressure to get to first place... but now, she had... nothing to strive for. Her magical pursuits still remained stagnant, her spellcards grew stale, as her skills were already in the best shape, they'll ever be without challenging the top echelon of Youkai around. She could go out and steal some grimoire, gain back some entertainment in her life, but there's... so little purpose to that. She'll just grow disappointed when whatever's inside doesn't help her out, wasting her energy... 

She felt tired.

She wanted a break.

She's been pushing, working, striving, for so long that she's run out of steam. Once she stopped, she couldn't easily start back up again, now no longer able to pull off those miracle all-nighters or passionate magical study explorations. There was nothing supporting her except herself, except the flimsy drive of wanting to be slightly better today than yesterday, easily put off by excuses and inconveniences.

She was Marisa, but it didn't feel like she was being Marisa.

It didn't feel like she was at her prime, it didn't feel like she’d done her best. She couldn't feel the passion for magic that she loves so much, or the intrinsic desire to get better. 

All she feels is either repressed jealousy or pointless despair. An emptiness within her heart where her desires once burned, and now mere ash only remains, leaving behind no purpose other than just to live, and even that seems a bit of a stretch.

Is lying on the ground for hours on end even living? Life was more than that, life was out there in the world, achieving something, doing something.

Not being a sad, useless pile of human flesh on the ground, rotting away.

Yet she didn't have the motivation to do anything else.

She stayed still as the quiet, lonely pile of human flesh. Wallowing in her disgusting self-pity.

She had no reason to be sad.

She had no good reason to be jealous.

She had no reason to feel this emptiness.

She had no reason to feel bad for herself.

She had a purpose, a pointless purpose of continuing to be second place, continuing to be Marisa Kirisame, sure, but it was a purpose.

And there she was, disregarding it, abandoning it, relegating herself to her own selfish laziness and lack of motivation. All because she didn't like the pointless task that was given to her, out of some strange desire to actually accomplish something. Hiding herself away in her little magic shop, collecting dust like the many borrowed items residing inside. She could try cleaning those, arranging them in some way that makes sense, try being actually productive for once in her life.

But no, she wanted to be useless, she wanted to throw away her purpose.

So, she stayed, lying as still as a rock, as insignificant as her petty desires were, and slept.

She slept and woke up, flashing in and out of consciousness, staring blankly at the ceiling from time to time, learning nothing, staying useless.

She was worthless, unproductive, wasting her potential.

She could do something, make use of her flimsy little life, but she didn't.

She decided that she could just stay home all day, being another furniture item of the Kirisame Magic Shop, getting no visitors, having no friends come over and bring some enthusiasm to her life.

No one would care about someone so useless, after all. It would be as pointless as her own life, as unproductive as her moping around on the floor. As someone who wasted everything given to her, everything borrowed by her, no one would bother giving her any more.

Her life could've been at the very least somewhat productive, she could get up and begin researching once again, to get back into her passions, into the things that she's meant to be good at. But here's nothing here pushing her to do so, no natural drive motivating her, only failed expectations and self-pity. She wants to be productive, she wants to perform magic once again and start back up, but no, she had decided to be useless, to be worthless. And she decided to stay that way as well, lying to herself that she couldn't.

She hated it.

She hated that she couldn't muster up the willpower to do anything other than lying blankly on the floor, that she couldn't find some arbitrary reason to do anything.

She always found some excuse to continue staying here, to continue lying on the floor.

And she hated that she just accepted it, that she merely continued providing excuses, that she continued providing reasons to be the sad chunk of human flesh that she was. Yet her anger never amounted to anything, as what would she even be able to do after getting up? Just pace around the house, go onto her bed and sleep out the rest of her days?

The floor was cold, hard, uncomfortable. But at least it provided a reason to leave, a reason that gives her some arbitrary hope that a future her would decide to get up from here and do something. If she decided to go to bed, then she’d have no reason, no surmountable desire to do anything but stay in bed. It was a pretty comfortable thing, it was soft, it was warm, it had all the little things about life that she liked, the nearby sights of notes from friends, the things she borrowed from Alice and Patchouli, the comfort she gains from seeing them.

But she didn't deserve any of that.

Not especially when she was a useless blob on the floor.

She deserved to miss those sights. She deserved the empty feeling in her heart. She deserved the longing for companionship, for any reminder of her precious friends, for the emotions she felt whilst being with them.

She was Marisa Kirisame, a sad blob on the floor, only able to wallow in her own self-pity.

And she stayed that way.

Marisa didn't know how much time had passed, how many hours she wasted merely being useless. And at some odd hour of the day, there was a knocking on the door.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

It wasn't rough, it wasn't all that loud at all, being like a little tap on the door, gentle, yet firm. The sound was rhythmic, coming in triplets, always retaining the gentle sound that each knock made, never getting louder, never getting fainter.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

It stayed constant, continuing on for minutes, before leaving.

Maybe it was the wind, hurling little rocks at her door, providing something for her to think about. Or it could be a person, some friend wanting to collect their borrowed items...

She didn't know. She didn't bother walking up to the door and checking the peephole. She didn't bother entertaining whatever happened to cause the sound. There was little point in doing so, only serving as a risk, as a temptation to get up and eventually settle into a useless position that was more comfortable.

Maybe there wasn't even a knocking.

...

...

...

More time passes, maybe a minute, maybe an hour, maybe even a day, it's a bit hard to tell time without the sun. But even if she didn't know when, she heard it again:

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

Three rhythmic taps on the door, asking for her presence. Asking to know where she was, who she was, her condition.

Or maybe the wind was acting up again-

"Marisa?" asked a voice, a sweet, calm and gentle voice. Like a melody, it was a harmonic voice, full of life, full of the hints of emotion. A single word containing a bit of concern, a bit of curiosity, and a bit of maturity, like the tune of a soft piano's strings, firm yet resonant. It was a voice she was fond of, a voice of her friend, the voice of a dollmaker.

It was the voice of Alice Margatroid.

Alice was a strange friend... but if she were to sum her up, she'd call her a stubborn-headed doll-like maiden.

Intelligent in most things sure, but like most other magicians, she was a passionate one for her opinions, making for a fun debate partner at times. Other times, Alice would be stubborn in a different way, always insisting to her to use the door instead of the window, or not letting her play with her dolls without supervision, or not allowing her past a certain line in the living room. But she respected that, not Alice's wishes, but the fact that she was even trying to force some rules within her own home, the fact that she was not giving up on such an impossible task. Even some other... stranger parts of Alice, the whole talking to dolls on her own, and the nailing of straw dolls affair... they were charming in their own way, and the talking to dolls thing is kinda cute if she ignores some of the finer details.

...

...

...

She wanted to see her friend.

She wanted to reply.

She wanted to go out, give her an impulsive hug, complain to her about the magician's block she's been having recently. She wanted to see Alice, be with her, do things with her. She wanted to be by her side, ramble on about the odd details of some branch of magic. She wanted to hold her close, to feel her warmth, to touch her face, to see if she really was there.

But her body didn't move. Her voice refrained from making more noise than the sound of her tired breaths.

"Marisa?" Alice asked again. This time, there was more worry in the notes of her voice. She didn't want to trouble Alice, she didn't want to inconvenience her. She was already useless, but she didn't want to hurt others because of it.

She tried moving her legs, tried turning herself over, so she could at least crawl to the doorway. She couldn't. She couldn't move, couldn't drive herself to do more than panic and struggle.

"Marisa? Do you need some help?" Alice asked. Again. She preserved her tone, her gentleness, her warmth, her concern. Marisa could feel her, just a few steps away, separated only by a thin wooden door.

She wanted to shout out, 'Yes!', scream it at the top of her lungs, just to make sure Alice heard her. But her voice only came out with a weak groan, an exasperated mumble:

"Yes..." she said. She hated how she sounded, how unenthusiastic it was, how it lacked energy and passion. It sounded terrible.

However, it was enough. As in response, she could hear the door creak open, light streaming in to her spot on the floor.

A figure rushed up to her, stepping right next to her. They were dressed in their normal colors, red, white and blue, outfit the normal elegant dress and blazer pair she always had on herself. Alice always had the tendency to dress well, and even if their taste in dresses differ, Alice somehow always ended up looking prettier in her eyes. Her friend's clothes always had a unique appearance to them, giving a professional yet homely look at the same time. Something you'd respect, yet something you'd feel comfortable around.

Maybe it was the handmade construction, or maybe it was the neat frills and soft edges, or the outlines and decorations, or the ribbons that seemed to tie everything together, she didn't know.

She wasn't really a professional at dressmaking, so she can't say for sure... perhaps it was just an Alice thing.

And aside from Alice's dresses being pretty, her face was like that as well. It was as doll-like as usual, pretty, elegant, and cute, an inclusive package of soft features, pale skin, and a refined touch of manners. Blue irises staring at her in concern, subtle lips formed into a confused frown, face pale, yet lively, filled to the brim with the emotions of life, of the apparent care towards her friend. And selfishly, she wanted them to continue staring forever, to continue watching her lie there on the ground, to continue proving that her friend cared for her, that her friend was with her.

"Marisa!" the dollmaker exclaimed, perhaps noticing her condition. She probably looked so pathetic from the outside, struggling to even get up... but she liked the attention, she liked the care... "What happened?"

Marisa shrugged her shoulders in response, causing a slight pain to resonate through her mind, arms nearly tearing themselves off.

To this, Alice took a deep breath, and closed her eyes for a moment. The puppeteer furrowed her brow and went off thinking of something, analyzing the situation in some capacity, working quickly to just solve things which she can.

The moment was brief, but it was enough, and Alice opened her eyes, filled with a new idea in her head:

"...How about starting with cleaning yourself up, a warm shower's always nice, isn't it?" Alice asked, smiling with a warmth in her lips. "I'll get Shanghai to grab some fresh clothes for you."

In response, Marisa nodded, agreeing to her friend's proposal. A warm shower does sound nice...

She tried to get up from the floor, moving around her legs, aligning them to push herself up. And when she pushed, she stood, partially. Her balance was unstable, back was slightly bent, her body unable to resist swaying from side to side.

After watching for a second or two, Alice decided to help her out, and keep her off the cold hard floor, grabbing her hands and pulling her forward.

She followed Alice through the cluttered hallways of her own house, dodging debris on the floor, watching the dollmaker's back, looking at Alice with curiosity as they tried to navigate the confusing layout. At times, the woman asked which direction to go in, pointing to move left and right and waiting for a nod.

She wasn't completely sure of where exactly they were.

She casted some illusory spells around here at some point, but she never really figured out how to dispel them, having only the vaguest of ideas about what the path she made led to...

It'll be fine... The feeling was nice enough, moving forward, moving to some eventual destination, if not by memory, by sheer luck alone. Having Alice's hands hold hers, clutching her fingers with a tight restraint, cautious of pushing down too hard, it made her feel so warm, a blush forming across her cheeks. But the warmth made her feel alive, made her feel Alice's presence to be a little more concrete, a little more magical.

Alice's hands were surprisingly rough at their tips, perhaps arising from her hours of needlework, or her love to just fiddle around with things in her hands, but the rest of Alice's hands, they were soft, almost as delicate as her weak frame, acting like a cushion between every misplaced step, as a guide forward to her journey. Marisa liked both of the feelings, the contrast between rough and smooth, between where the dollmaker worked, and where she cared for, it felt a bit poetic, a bit clumsy, but most importantly, it felt so Alice-like, which was the most important rubric for a feeling.

And she felt it for quite a while, cheeks a bit tinted from embarrassment, hands caressed by hands, the sounds of ruffling fabric and light steps before it all ended.

They had arrived at her bathroom, standing in front of the open doorway.

It was time to have a shower.

She didn't get in though, not right away, she didn't want to leave Alice, to risk losing the current source of her forward drive... but, at the same time, she wanted to follow the suggestion, she wanted to take a shower.

... She had an idea, though.

A stupid idea, an embarrassing idea, an insane idea, but it mixed the reckless with the genius, the impossible with the clever, and all it takes is a little confidence to ask. It was, by all measures, an idea she had to try out.

"Can you... uhh... like hum or something while I'm taking a shower?" she asked, voice coming out as a low mumble. It was a good idea in theory, she gets a reassurance that Alice is there, but it was... embarrassing. Hopelessly so, as asking for someone's voice in the bathroom is something you'd do whilst you're eight, not twenty something. But it's so simple, so elegant, taking up little of the magician's privacy or effort to execute. But just to be sure... she added a little: "Only if you want to, of course!"

For the first few seconds, Alice looked confused, like a cat watching their owner fly for the first time, staring at her blankly in sheer shock, before actually contemplating the idea.

...

...

...

"Hmm... sure." Alice replied, before giving her a light hug, and letting her go. "See you in a bit..."

Mission... success? 

"Okay..." she said, before entering into the bathroom.

Inside, she could hear the faint tone of Alice's melody, her soft voice going through the highs and lows of pitch. If she strained her hearing enough, she could hear the sound of lyrics, of words she couldn't quite make out. It was nice... it was beautiful. 

She showered quickly, casting a few basic elemental spells to provide her water and heat it up, before... well, showering, cleaning up herself, washing her hair, adding soap, rinsing herself. Maybe even pausing at moments to make sure she could hear Alice's voice. After that, she changed into a fresh set of clothing, and exited the bathroom.

Waiting for her outside, humming with a comforting smile on her face, was Alice. Marisa approached her, walking with an unsteady gait towards her, before giving her a hug. It was a sort of thank you for their help, yet also a reward for herself for being so productive, managing to do something for once. She'd like to think she gave out nice hugs anyways, so Alice gets some benefit from this.

To her perspective at least, it was a nice hug. Alice's arms were gently wrapped around her back, the dollmaker's warmth radiating gently onto her...

It felt safe, comfortable, a place she could trust in...

Marisa really needed to repay her sometime...

"Marisa... would you like to eat something?" asked the puppeteer, ending their embrace. 

"Sure... I've been feeling a bit hungry." she whispered, still a bit weak from... kind of not eating for however long she decided to lie down on the floor.

"Good, good..." Alice replied, as she started to pull her towards the kitchen. "I'll cook you some soup, chicken soup... you'll just have to wait a bit... ok?"

"Alright... thanks, Alice..." she answered. What did she ever do to deserve such a good person in her life...

She followed Alice along to the kitchen, holding her hand, walking with a bit more balance this time.

In the kitchen, she sat down on the dining table, accompanied by a few dolls. All of them watched as Alice did her Alice things and went around gathering various ingredients from the kitchen: a few herbs, a few spices, a vegetable or two, and a medium sized chicken. She placed all these on the kitchen counter, and lighted the stove, setting a water-filled pot to boil. Then she began to prepare the ingredients, cleaning them, skinning the chicken, peeling the vegetables and herbs, chopping each of them up with an inhuman precision. She worked fast, rapidly pushing down the knife through each of the ingredients, chopping off bits, cutting things in two, looking all satisfied with her work.

Marisa liked watching Alice work, it was like... a performance, Alice deciding what exactly to do with each bit, expressions rapidly changing. And Alice looked unbelievably cute whenever she focused hard on a task, trying her best, pushing herself to do things well. It made her want to cheer her on, it made her want to view them from every angle imaginable and praise them for working as hard as she did...

After preparing the ingredients, Alice placed them into the boiling pot, letting them cook, and freeing up her hands. She proceeded to clean things up, dumping all the waste into the nearly unused trash bin, before finally washing her hands.

The dollmaker then approached the table, she seemed calm, yet her face was still filled with concern.

Their pair of blue eyes began inspecting Marisa, perhaps judging her. They peered at every inch of her, from bottom to top, focusing on something she couldn't quite deduce. She didn't mind, however, Alice was free to do as she wished with her vision, it's the least she could do as repayment...

Being watched felt kinda nice, anyways. Having Alice think of her... it made her feel something nice, something warm.

"When was the last time you ate?" the puppeteer asked, pulling on one of Marisa's arms, fingers pressing down on the partially exposed bone. "You're a bit thin."

"I dunno... I think it was the last time I visited you?"

"That- That was three days ago!" shouted Alice, pulling a little harder on Marisa's arms as she did. Her eyes started darting around, going across the rest of Marisa's body, checking her hat, her clothes, everything once again, before calming down and settling into a sterner look. "What were you trying to- I- I- Just... please never do that again, Marisa."

"Okay, Alice." she replied, as she was quite fine with eating once again. She didn't even do it intentionally, she just... didn't feel hungry enough to move from the floor.

"I'll get you something to eat in the meantime..." continued Alice, setting one of her dolls to go to the fridge.

The minutes seemed to pass slowly, a fruit or two arriving at the table for them to eat, the sound of boiling water, the scent of softening meat... She liked it. She liked the calmness, the seriousness of the face staring at her, the confused mix of emotions that brewed within. The dolls entertained her, patting her on the head, playing with her fingers, being a bit more whimsical as Alice's possessions. To Marisa, a person familiar with how Alice's dolls work, she saw it as it is, as Alice sneakily expressing her care through her dolls. The puppeteer controls them directly, after all. Marisa could even catch a bit of embarrassment on the other's face whenever she went to give affection to some of the dolls. They weren't really possessions of Alice, they were an extension of her. Lovely little Alice's in some way...

But not all cute Alice moments could last forever, sadly. The precise internal clock within Alice sprang into action the moment their food was done, causing her to leave the table and start serving their food.

Alice was careful while preparing the food, her hands meticulously adjusting their grip on the ladle as she scooped up a precise mix of chicken and everything else, before pouring a cup or so of soup into a bowl. Then, repeating the process, she poured one out for herself, before heading back to the table.

Now set in front of Marisa was a bowl of soup, it had a chicken leg set in center stage, steam flowing up and out from its surface, with little pieces of herbs and vegetables floating around it in the soup. It had the scent of spring, of the fresh nature from right outside, of steam and spice blended together. In some aspect, it was a simple meal, easy to understand and comprehend, yet it looked so appetizing...

There was no rice though... eh, food was food! And besides, this was Alice's cooking! Probably tastes great...

She took up her spoon and fork and began her attack, metal cutting into meat, flaying it open, making a nice bite-sized portion to consume. She took her time to enjoy the delicacy, chewing slowly into the soft white meat of the chicken, taking little sips of soup from the bowl, enjoying the sweet and sour taste, the warmth in her mouth, picking out the little herbs floating around and having a taste. Yet the best part about the food is the occasional glance she gets at Alice, her calm eating style, the way they seem to delight in their own cooking... 

It's a combination of sheer Alice-ness which is basically cuteness and elegance at the same time. To eat, Alice's hands moved with precision, bisecting the meat in her plate with the swift stroke of a silver knife, before forking it up and placing it in her mouth. She chewed slowly, lips closed, eating with the mannerisms of some high aristocrat, yet she didn't seem prideful or haughty, just proper. There was no harshness in the blue eyes that stared back at her, only a warmth, a searing warmth that rose in her chest, beating every time the Alice looked at her in mild confusion, every time Marisa caught herself staring for a little too long. Sometimes, it even felt embarrassing to be staring this much, yet it was just so tempting, so fascinating to watch her friend move like delicate clockwork, performing a waltz of sorts with her food. There was just this performative atmosphere to it...

Yet despite the complicated mannerisms, Alice finished her portions as quickly as Marisa did, both ending their meal roughly a few minutes after they started. And as soon as they did, Alice took the opportunity to fill in the silence with conversation, utter out some words with her delicate voice.

"So, Marisa, what... happened? Why did you lock yourself up in here for... three days or so?" Alice asked, as she grabbed tightly onto Marisa's hands, forcing a response. "If you were struggling with something, why didn't you tell me?"

In all honesty, she knew the answers to both those questions, she felt pointless, useless. She didn't have the motivation to compete with the overwhelming gap between her and Reimu, the inherent difference between the two of them in power levels, the chasm that stood between the two of them, with her always a step or two behind. But at the same time, Reimu was also a nice friend of hers, someone she admired, someone she liked to talk to and hang out with. To admit out loud that she held jealousy, that she bore a hint of resentment, that her ambition had been smothered by someone she respected, was something she wouldn't want to admit, something she couldn't admit.

Marisa looked at Alice, stared directly into her eyes, looked at the concerned expression that tempted her with its sincerity for her honesty, and forced out a lie. She was used to lying, it was practically her job as the very ordinary magician, but lying gets you to a lot of places, makes the gears of life move a little cleaner, helps everyone be a little happier.

"I don't really know. I just... didn't feel like doing anything." she answered, putting on her charming smile with a sort of relaxed expression.

Lying to Alice, however, was a bit harder than lying to most others. She'd spent enough time being honest to Alice that they've picked up on the little differences in intonation she makes while lying, and Alice is meticulous enough to actually be able to detect her manufactured confidence consistently. And aside from that... it hurts to lie to Alice, to someone who's willing to give her a lot, someone she'd preferably be honest with. She knows Alice wants to help her, it's plainly obvious enough from her actions, and she cares for Alice as well. But she had her pride, and she didn't really want to hurt anyone with her stupid emotions...

"But... why?" Alice asks, continuing her assault. She didn't want the dollmaker's efforts to be in vain, but life just had to be complicated, didn’t it, and Alice, she continues asking, being the concerned friend that she is...

"Didn't have any motivation to do so." she answered, shaking off Alice's grasp as she did. That dollmaker always had to be stubborn, didn't she? It was a nice stubbornness, one that led her to being this conglomerate of a Youkai: a mix of caring, a dose of obsession with dolls and other magical things, a nice coating of manners and affluence, and a portrait-like appearance. Alice was peculiar in that way for a Youkai, one that didn't really seem to be all that Youkai-like, no distinctive scary aspect like great mischief or misfortune attributed to them... just a girl obsessed with magic and her cute little dolls.

Yet that didn't stop that girl from... staring at Marisa with frustration, treating her like a puzzle mat with all the pieces scattered about, trying to solve a problem they cannot fix. She seemed so conflicted, perhaps deciding between intervening and leaving her alone, weighing out the pros and cons, judging whether it's appropriate or not.

"And this lack of motivation is because?" they asked again, deciding that they really wanted to help.

So be it, Alice.

"I didn't have any? I don't know what to say to you other than that~" 

"I know when you lie to me, Marisa. You have a problem, I can tell. And if you just say it to me, then maybe we can figure something out."

"I don't know why I feel this way, alright! I just... didn't feel any motivation, final answer."

"Marisa."

"Alice. I appreciate all this, y'know. I like that you care about me and all, it's nice, you've been a great help around here. But the answer is simple, I just didn't want to do anything for those three days."

"...I'm not accepting that answer."

"Then don't! If you dislike the truth, I can do nothing about it."

"Please, Marisa. I only want to help."

"And you are helping, Alice. You don't need to know... anything more than what I just said."

"I want to know what's wrong so I can help you, I need to know what's wrong so you don't do something reckless like this again. I don't want to lose you, Marisa. You haven't even learned 'Abandon Food' yet, you can't go around starving yourself... Please... Please Marisa."

God, this girl-

She could hear the pain in Alice's voice, the frustration, the delicateness in tone struggling against what seems to be desperation. Alice looked like she was about to cry, eyes watery and breathing in an odd pattern, being so... emotional. Alice's been always like that, uniquely vulnerable for the strangest reasons. She liked that about Alice though, but she didn't want to cause her this much distress, concern her so much...

She wanted to give up, surrender and whine about her stupid problems to Alice, get someone to comfort her. But...

She can't. She can't tell her all those things, all the things she shouldn't even be bothered about... It's stupid, a waste of that dollmaker's time...

"I... I know, Alice. I know. I'm still your Ordinary Magician, Marisa Kirisame~ " Marisa replied, as she got up and headed for the door. She needed to change the topic before she gave in to Alice. "Anyways, let's go out! I need to stock up on more supplies from the forest, and I might be able to finish quicker with you around."

"Hey! Wait-"

"Better catch up first!"

She ran out the door, legs taking her out and into the great forest beyond, moving under the prim blue sky and the crooked branches above. Around her was the trees, towering blocks of wood and foliage, and below them was the undergrowth, where the diversity of the forest thrives, from which the magical mushrooms sprout every few meters, and the shrubs and herbs grow to fill up whatever space gets light below the canopy. Right behind her, she could spot Alice dashing at a brisk pace, followed by a few dolls, slowly catching up to her with each step. Sadly for Alice, Marisa actually made habit of exercising once in a while, able to last for more than a few minutes running on the ground thanks to her fast and loose method of collecting mushrooms.

Why waste time inspecting each one, when you can just grab them all and ask questions later?

Sure, some have to be avoided since picking some by hand led to them exploding, or releasing toxic fumes, or burning her hand, or shooting out blinding lasers, but she knows most of them by heart! She can easily just avoid them as it was instinct to her, collecting mushrooms that were not on her 'avoid' list, exercising some caution.

It was fun to simply run around, let her legs take her wherever they please, dancing across the roots and hopping across fallen logs, as her eyes spot interesting things and stare at them for a while, before she wanders back to collecting mushrooms and herbs, along with taking a few of those interesting things she spots along the way.

And after a run through the forest, she could no longer even spot Alice, only her dolls that were technically cheating, as they floated, not ran. Though, perhaps she's being a bit too harsh on Alice... she did genuinely want to help, after all.

...

God! What was she going to do about Alice? Tell her everything? Continue telling her nothing? It's just... aaaaaaahhhhhhh!!!!!

The wind blew overhead, indifferent to her deliberations, going on as it did, without the problems of deciding between one's pride and one's heart.

She wanted to complain, to go on about her frustrations, shout them out to the world, yet she didn't want to at the same time. It would be reckless, even for her standards, to admit that she disliked her own best friend for such a petty reason, just because she couldn't fathom how to get any stronger, just because she was jealous of how lax they seemed, how unfair it all is. There was a righteousness within her however, telling her that she had justification, that her hard work, her efforts being triumphed over by a person who wasn't even trying that hard, that her years of constant study, of constant improvement, pales in comparison to Reimu's, was enough of a reason for Alice to at least be understanding towards her. She didn't even want to feel this way, she wanted to be fine, to be herself again, to get back to performing magic, to just be another colorful face in all of Gensokyo... But at the same time, she wanted progress, she wanted to get better, she wanted even a tiny chance of improving her situation.

She didn't want to feel so useless, or be so terrible, so repulsive.

To look at her best friend with a glare of envy, to always hide her inner emotions, lest they leak out and ruin a perfectly good thing.

She didn't want to feel jealousy towards one of her precious friends, to covet gifts she could never have... She was a better person than that... she is a better person. She walked the path of being a magician, but she never lost her humanity, not yet at the very least. She felt bad for Reimu, bad enough to regret avoiding her, limiting her friendly visits to Patchouli's library or Alice's place or any other location within Gensokyo that didn't have 'Hakurei Shrine' written somewhere on it.

She wanted to be a good person.

But she wasn't.

And here she was, running away from the only person trying to help her get through her feelings, waiting with a patience for her.

Being Marisa, always getting into trouble...

Always annoying those dear to her...

Always being such a bother...

She really didn't deserve her friends. She didn't deserve a single nice favor or compliment from them. She always took from them, never giving back, breaking things, building up a list of unpaid debts. And she still has the audacity to envy Reimu, a person merely doing her job, someone who didn't ask for the great power given to them. And then, just because she's a coward, she tries to avoid acknowledging this, pushing away Alice when she tries to help, right after saving her from the brink of starvation.

If Alice came later, she might've just died...

Though perhaps, that would be a more favorable-

Nonononono

It wouldn't. It would never be a more favorable outcome to die, what was she even thinking? She had a life, friends, people who care about her, she can't just go around dropping dead... even if her feelings just eat away at her thoughts, ripping at her heart, making her feel a subtle pain in her chest, a searing twinge that begs for attention.

She didn't deserve to die.

She didn't.

...

There were many feelings she felt: envy, annoyance, comradery, friendship, joy, anguish, grief, wishful thinking even. All towards that Shrine Maiden, that red-and-white friend of hers that always takes a laid back approach to incident solving. Reimu hadn't done anything to get Marisa's envy, merely being fortunate enough to be in the position of Shrine Maiden, and all of the corresponding powers that come with it. And they train, she's seen the effort Reimu had to go through to be the Eternal Shrine Maiden, the spellcard system, the trainings, the frustrations, everything wasn't absolutely unfair...

Reimu hadn't done anything wrong. She didn't ask to be born with natural talent, no one did. Except for maybe a couple of reincarnators, since this is Gensokyo after all, you can never be too sure with the wacky powers people have.

Marisa had done something wrong though, she got jealous. She never caught up to Reimu, even if she's gotten this far, there'll always be a gap, a barrier that she cannot break between herself and Reimu, a power difference. Train as much as she could, work as hard as she can, toil under the sun, moon, and rain, making spellcards, generating new spells, testing out hundreds of magical formulas and incantations, only to fall short of the natural talent that her friend possessed. It was unfair, it was hard, it was painful, blown-up mushrooms, hundreds of injuries, days of practice, all for being a bit closer to something she'll never attain.

Like trying to catch up to the sunset on foot, running and running, going ever forwards, seemingly just out of reach was the sun, extending your hand to grab it as it fell out of the horizon, the light always gets further. The sun always gets farther. Never staying still, never letting you catch your breath. It seemed fun at first, so certain that eventually, you'd be able to hold it in your hands and declare but a brief victory. Then you miss a step, then another, and another...

You try your best to make up for it, try out new things, get on a broom and attach a giant-ass laser to it, launch yourself forward as fast as you can.

And you see that it's already far out of view.

It's already nighttime, the goal so far away.

It hurts.

It hurts to fail when you didn't expect it. Failure is something that she disliked, but appreciated, it is the key to learning. She's made millions of failures just to become a magician, each one strengthening her knowledge, refining her power. Yet in this case, what does it teach? That it's pointless to work your ass off for years, and that natural talent will always beat hard work?

Maybe so.

A fish could never climb a tree no matter how hard it tries, but a bird can sour to its peak as if it's second nature.

Does the fish feel pain? Does it have the right to feel pain? Should it be envious? Is it right for it to be envious?

Regardless, it hurts.

It hurts to be the one closest to her, yet at the same time, to feel that there's an unimaginable chasm between them.

And now that she's given up, look at where she is, even a more stupid person than before, pushing away one of the few friends she has that are willing to care for her. She's even thinking of death because why should she be a normal person, right?

She's been trying. Trying very hard to avoid such ideas, the idea of death itself goes against her very goals, she was a magician, a breaker of the normal rules that bounded men, including death. Choosing death would be choosing to renounce her faith in magic, her faith in the ability to break the rules of the world with enough effort. She had her Master Spark, she had her spellcards, testaments to her ability, she's beaten great foes, won a fair few duels...

Yet her magic wasn't enough to beat Reimu's, to beat someone who wasn't even interested in trying in the first place, thinking of it as more of a bother than a virtue. Whenever she wins, it's either because Reimu tried a bit too hard and got tunnel vision or was distracted from the fight by the noise of some donation landing in her little box. Never because she overpowered her, or outmatched her, always thanks to pure luck and chance.

She was trying so hard to be in first place, always reaching forwards for the place she longed for, wanting to finally be able to actually continue of her magical journey.

But this was something she couldn't conquer, not on her own, not with help. 

And now she's just being a burden...

What exactly has she accomplished so far?

What did she have?

A compendium of unoriginal spellcards? 

A run-down magic shop full of borrowed items?

A personality entirely based around constantly annoying the people she likes?

Who would even genuinely like her?

She hasn't been helping anyone except herself for so long... abandoning incident solving, borrowing grimoires and other magic items, keeping them for herself to play around with. And she just wastes them! Even with all the materials and magic potential she'll ever need, she can't even beat a Shrine Maiden who doesn't even train seriously! All she has is her charming smile and a mouthful of lies, no redeeming qualities other than those two, providing little utility except as a paperweight, perhaps. She's always been like this, frustrated and dumbfounded on why she’s in second place all the time, always edging behind at the finish line, being but another obstacle for Reimu to overcome.

She hasn't exactly been the best of friends with anyone aside from Reimu, probably because she had nothing of value worth to steal. And for the others...

She's stolen around a few dozen miscellanea from Alice's house, a small library from Patchouli, about a percent of the stock in the Kourindou, a toolbox or two from Nitori, a few knives from Sakuya, and probably a hundred more other things she can't really remember from all the other people she might be able to consider friends. Basically, not exactly the best of behavior, then she does shit like... maybe a minor case of pestering...for half an hour or playing one of many pranks on them. All of that doesn't exactly make a 'good' person, or even a likable one.

Yet somehow, she manages to remain on speaking terms with most of them, only bearing glares and some hatred, but most of them just let it pass, not particularly hating her, but definitely not liking her.

That was her life, her stupid little life, being second-rate magician that steals equipment on a semi-daily basis to the annoyance of most.

The fact that she's even able to summarize her life up like that annoys her, her life being so pointless, so irrelevant, working towards an unattainable goal, doing stupid things here and there-

The fuck was she even doing with her life.

Just... this?

This bullshit?

Friends with people for no particular reason, bullshitting her way out of every scenario, fucking up the lives of the people who care for her, is that really it?

She had no point, no other shitty purpose to serve than to be a fucking dumbass every time, working her ass of everyday to be a simple second place.

She didn't-

She couldn't live like this.

No progress, no encouragement, no reward.

She kept on having to make shit up to satisfy herself, in the 'eventuality' of fulfilling her goal. She had to keep her feelings in check around her own best friend, she has to lie to everyone in her life, because fuck her if she's going to have an actually functional relationship around here.

Haaaaah...

Marisa looked up to the sky, brimming with the sight of grey, ashen clouds.

At first, there was a drizzle, a light pitter patter of rain, a little tapping on her head. But as the seconds pass, they drip a little harder, knocking on her skull, wetting the fresh set of clothes Alice had picked out for her, pouring liters onto the ground. It was cold, it was rough, it roared senselessly into her ears.

It was screaming, lumbering a shout at every moment, drowning out the wind and the crackle of tree branches.

And she was sobbing wet, teary-eyed from her frustrations, dripping in rain...

HAHAHAHAHAAHAH.

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH...

FUCKING HELLLLLLL

WHAT DID SHE EVEN DO FOR THE PAST DECADE? WHAT DID ANY OF THAT AMOUNT TO?

ALL OF THE INCIDENTS SOLVED, ALL OF THE MAGIC LEARNED, THE FRIENDSHIPS MADE, WHAT WAS ANY OF THAT EVEN FOR?

WHAT WAS EVEN HER PURPOSE ANYMORE?

WHAT DID SHE EVEN WANT ANYMORE?

NOTHING!

NOTHING!

All that's left is just a half-sane Marisa Kirisame trying to stop herself from screaming out her feelings in the middle of the forest.

She can't even blame anyone else for her problems, for how she's feeling, there's no one except herself.

She's the one who made the shitty expectation that she'd eventually improve past Reimu.

She's the one who made all the relationships she had utterly dysfunctional.

She's the one who made her life a fucking play, where she steals shit like a routine, and everyone laughs about it in the end.

GOD FUCKING DAMMIT!

She's the one who made herself feel the way she feels, think the way she thinks, do the things she does.

She's the reason to blame for all her problems.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH.

She's...

She's...

She's so useless...

What's wrong with her...

Why...

Why does she even think like this...

Why was she even like this? Unable to achieve anything of note, unable to be the person she wanted to be...

Why?

WHY?

Why...

Why...

That's all she can even do these days, ask why...

All she can do is ask and ask, but she never receives any answer. Staying the same, never becoming a person who could solve her own problems, fix her own issues...

This was all her fault.

She-

She...

She didn't know what to do.

She didn't want to.

She missed the carefree days where she still had a tinge of infinite hope, an undying optimism towards her own potential. It seemed to feel like it'd last forever, that she'd keep on improving, that she'd keep on being able to push out her 110%, catching up faster and faster, until; even Reimu's natural talent gets beaten. But then she slowed, grounding to a full halt, she couldn't come up with any new tricks, any more spells, starting to re-use what she already had, refine them with whatever ideas she could come up with...

But that also ran out, so she moved on to training, training for hours on end, working hard to hone her skills even further, use them more effectively. There's a limit to that as well, however.

And here she was, at the end of the chasm, experiencing the full effects of diminishing returns, trying to come up with something new to change up the game, to get a bit more powerful.

...

She felt alone, staring into the void in front of her, staring into the far off distance she still had to travel.

She missed having more time for her friends, she missed being at the shrine and hanging out with Reimu, she missed spending all night coming up with new spells with Patchouli, she missed her comfort days staying by Alice's side. She missed the people she could talk to, and missed the people she couldn't.

She wanted to be able to face them with a straight face, be honest with herself, and be honest to them.

But maybe she was asking too much.

...

...

...

Rain pitter-pattered over her head, dripping on her, clouding her already teary vision, dithering the tree line in front of her with a million tiny distortions. She was wet, cold and sobbing to herself in the middle of the forest. Great. Really...

hahahah...

haaahh...

Why did things have to turn-

"Marisa!" a familiar voice shouted, making her pause for but a moment, and within an instant, she found herself captured in their grasp.

A pair of arms wrapped around her, flowing under her shoulders and pressing her wet clothes against some dry ones. The person hugging her bore the scent of roses and fabric, of freshly bought clothes and morning strolls through some garden, of decades-old flower shops and day-to-day nostalgia. Their head rested closely against hers, having a thin gap between the two of them, being no closer than a few breaths from each other. She could feel a pulsation from her chest, as rushes of blood went to her face, staining it a deep scarlet.

"Alice. Finally caught up to me, huh?" she said, trying to maintain a facade of confidence, keeping her unsteadiness firmly to her own mind.

"You! You... Why are you out here in the rain... you're still recovering from your 3-day starvation session, you could get sick or worse-"

"Yeah, yeah, got an umbrella at the very least? It's still raining, if you haven't noticed."

"Shanghai has it above us, if you haven't noticed."

"... Fair point."

"Idiot."

"Touché!"

"Why do you always have to keep me worrying, Marisa... I lose track of you for a few minutes, and here you are, crying in the middle of the rain!"

"Are you sure it wasn't just raindrops on my face?"

"Your eyes are literally bloodshot red, and you've been aimlessly walking around in circles for minutes. I'll take the more reasonable option here."

"Mhm..."

"So... any plans to tell me what's bothering you?"

"Maybe~"

"Marisa... Aren't we friends supposed to help each other out or something?"

"I know, Alice. I know..."

"I won't tell anyone, promise."

"Hmmm..."

"Marisa!"

"Even if it's a stupid problem?"

"Even if it's a stupid problem."

"You swear, Alice? If I hear of this getting out, a grimoire or two of yours might disappear."

"I swear, it's not I really have anyone I could tell it to, though..."

"Alright."

"Okay, go on..."

Could she even lie at this point?

Did she even want to lie?

Alice was right there, giving her a warm hug, wanting to comfort her, wanting to help her out. She wanted help, she wanted someone to lean on. And maybe Alice wouldn't be too harsh on her...

"I will, I will..." she muttered, taking a deep breath before continuing. "I... I don't really know what to do anymore. I want to get better, become stronger, study and figure out more about magic, but I just... can't. Every time I take a step closer to being better, it just feels so pointless, the gap between me and Reimu just grows. And I- I feel jealous, I feel envious, I feel that it's unfair, even if I know that it isn't. I don't want to constantly avoid my best friend, I don't want to feel the way I feel... I want to believe that I can still catch up. It's stupid, I know. It's so fucking stupid that I manage to feel this way just because I couldn't figure out how to keep on getting better, just because I can't do what's probably impossible. I just... want to have a life again, be able to talk to Reimu without wanting to run away at the next opportunity. I... I don't know anymore... God..."

She felt the embrace around her tighten, the warmth holding her a little closer, a little more securely. And like a tap drum, her heart made beats a little faster, tempo increasing with each moment that passed.

"I see..." Alice stated, voice faint under the rolling rain, nearly drowned out by the noise. But Marisa could hear the whispering so close to her face, feel the gentle breaths of the person beside themselves. "I... can't really solve most of your problems. Getting strong enough to beat Reimu, changing your feelings... that's something only you can do. But I can definitely help you feel better, alright?"

"By hugging me to death?" she jokingly asked. "That certainly solves a fair bit of my problems at the moment!"

"That's a part of my plan, to some extent. Just... don't die too early, we haven’t even started on the second step." the dollmaker replied, voice a little more excited than before.

"And this second step is...?"

"Walking to my home, I prepared a... present there for you." 

"What is it?"

"You'll have to find out, Marisa." answered the puppeteer, as they finally let go of their embrace.

"Alright..." she replied. Going to Alice's place wasn't something that she particularly disliked... she actually wanted to visit, the place seemed so comforting... but she at least wanted the previous moment to last a little longer, to hug for a bit more time.

Yet they began to walk, regardless of her inner desires, squeezing closely to each other under the shadow of the parasol. With each clumsy step forward, she could feel their shoulders brush against each other, fabric pressing on fabric, before the two of them look at each other apologetically and exchange a mental apology.

They could've flown, chose to take a far faster method of transport, one a bit less... awkward than this. But they didn't, they continued to walk in silence.

And even with the rain pouring its heart out around them, they stayed quiet. They listened to the sound of flowing water, the splashing against every little surface, the noise of magic from the dolls following them close behind, and the steps that they made against the ground. Their feet fumbled over little rocks, bumping into each other a little over a dozen times, in the unsteady partnership that they're so used to. It made her... feel, feel something wonderfully confusing, walking side by side, passing the trunks of trees, strolling together under the beating rain, pairs of shoes splashing the puddles on the forest floor. They were in a mutual agreement of some sort to not break the tension between them, to keep stringing along the unspoken words, the curiosities that they held within each other.

The distance between them, the thin columns of air that separated them from each other, felt so far and too close at the same time. She wanted to speak, to break the tension, to talk about the world and her ideas about it, yet she held to the agreement, held herself to the silence, to the ambient tranquility of walking blankly in the rain. There was just... something about the atmosphere, something beyond the pace of steps and pattering of rain, a steady beat of the heart, a fond emotion in her head, a drive to protect, a desire to cherish.

She'd occasionally find herself taking glances at the face beside her own, brief moments where she could see the puppeteer's... unique expressions. Half the time, Alice looked happy, quickly returning the gaze back at her, tilting her head as she placed a smile upon her lips, before gesturing towards an interesting thing or two in their surroundings. In the other half, she'd spot Alice already staring at her in a childish sort of curiosity, treating her glance as a sort of phenomena, studying it for a few seconds, before turning away, perhaps being satisfied.

Maybe they were still worried about her, thinking of her, trying their best to make things a little easier on her... Trying to entertain her, perhaps?

Or maybe they were just being Alice, strange in the most bizarre of ways. It's a bit difficult to cleanly draw a line between the two...

Either way... it felt nice to walk by her side.

Chapter Text

With time, and a bit of effort, Marisa and Alice managed to arrive at the dollmaker's house, settling themselves in the veranda to dry.

The place was small, not really all that extravagant, littered about by a few dolls guarding the premises, having little umbrellas over their heads to protect them from the falling rain. Other dolls, were tending to the garden, poking around in the dirt and mud to do some botanical thing Alice hasn't bothered explaining to her. There were those flying around the flowers, inspecting the leaves and branches, while some groups went around digging up herbs and mushrooms, placing their haul into dainty woven baskets. It was, admittedly, cute. Alice's dolls were always cute, much like the person themselves, but unlike Alice, they tended to be honestly cute, with little reservation about hiding that cuteness. Though, as Alice controls them, it's technically Alice being honestly adorable, just only doing so with her dolls.

Still, she didn't particularly understand the process on the whole controlling a doll swarm thing, how you'd work out which doll is seeing what and command them accordingly. Maybe it's some sort of skill, a type of thinking a dollmaker as strange as Alice develops as they manipulate dolls.

If only Alice could act as cutely without using dolls... well, Alice was being pretty cute by caring for her and all-

"Marisa? Are you alright?" Alice asked, already half-way into the doorway, dragging Marisa's arm along with her. 

"Yeah, just been thinking a bit." she answered, following along inside.

"Thinking about what?"

"How cute you are~"

"I guess we all think about what we can't have."

"I'm cute though! I'm like... 99% confident in that."

"Really?"

"I am! Just look at me, 100% cuteness right here."

"Hmm... I can't seem to find the cuteness you're describing. Maybe you're just seeing things?"

...

"You're not looking hard enough." she answered, before grabbing onto the puppeteer's shoulders, making them face towards her. "Look again."

A pair of blue eyes stared at her, a bit startled, a bit confused, unsure of what exactly happened. Alice was quick to recover however, setting their vision firmly towards Marisa, making a slightly satisfied grin on their face, as if they'd won something out of this. The two of them stood centimeters apart, the sound of raindrops pitter-pattering behind them filling in the silence. Neither of them did anything, acting frozen in time, looking, watching, waiting for the other to act their next move.

She could feel a bit of Alice's hair on her grasp, strands tickling the back of her hand, moving to the invisible rhythm of the wind, dancing gently through the air. Her eyes inspected the other a bit more, scanning the other's appearance, the cloth headband, the blonde strands of stray hair... and she could spot a sort of color, the edges of face in front of her tinted in light red, the signature flush of embarrassment trying to hide itself from view. Yet she herself could feel the same thing, a coy feeling arising out of her chest, a slight hesitation, a sort of uncertainty.

Maybe Alice could see it as well, she did feel a warmth rushing to the edges of her own face... her own cute face. She, most definitely, was cute. That was non-negotiable, Alice might be cute, but she, Marisa Kirisame, was Gensokyo's cutest magician around. Despite Alice's refusal to acknowledge the fact, it was simply the truth.

"Marisa..."

"So? Have you finally seen the cuteness in front of you?"

"What cuteness? I can only see your face."

"I. am. cute."

"You. are. not. I, obviously, am the cute one between the two of us."

"You are cute, Alice. But isn't it obvious that I'm cuter?"

"No~pe."

"Alice... I thought we were friends..."

"Well, I think it's cute that you're trying this thing- Not you specifically, but rather the act itself- I never thought you'd ever be doing this in front of me."

"We're friends, aren't we? And as friends, we're supposed to call each other cute."

"Sure~"

"...Maybe you're just afraid to call me cute? Is that the problem?"

"It's not! I'm simply stating facts here."

"Yeah, yeah, you're too afraid to call me cute. I've heard it all before."

"You're simply not cute."

"Then, could you have pity on this supposedly not cute thing, and call it cute?"

"No, Marisa."

"Why not? It's just calling me cute, there's literally nothing bad to it."

"Because-"

"Don't have an answer now, do you? Ya can't deny the truth."

"No."

"Then just call me cute, that's it."

"No."

"It's only fair, Alice. I called you cute earlier, and now, you have to call me cute."

"I didn't agree to anything there."

"Alice..." she mumbled, trying to rise some pity from the other, approaching her closer, pulling her into a slight hug.

Marisa shouldn't have to resort to these methods, she was definitely cute, and thusly, was deserving of being called cute. Yet Alice was so reserved about it, frustratingly so, and seemingly couldn't take a rigid stance towards showing affection, denying her attempts at every opportunity. It was like fighting a war, every tactic having its counter, and the counters having counters, and so on and so forth, a complicated web of strategy that takes skill to weave through effectively. But earlier, Alice pampering her... now they refused to even call her cute.

But... this is part of their friendship, even if she deserved to be called cute, she didn't desperately need it like... what happened earlier. It's understandable why Alice would want a bit of banter after that: The teasing, the arguments, the back and forth, it's fun! To have an 'au contraire' with every statement, to have a sparring partner when it came to words, it was nice.

And, she'll definitely get Alice to call her cute, no matter what it takes-

"...Fine." stated Alice, interrupting her now pointless internal monologue, as she broke out of Marisa's grasp, pulling herself away a bit further.

It's not expected... but why go against it?

She approached Alice, going a bit closer, staring at her, observing her. They pulled away again, steps gently retreating further into the house. Their cheeks were already slightly red from embarrassment, like porcelain painted over with a thin red finish... their eyes were stuck in a state of trying to focus forward, unable to settle down. It seemed as if at any moment, she'd pull out a little wall of dolls to separate the two of them, that with another step taken toward her, she'll back out of her agreement.

But she didn't. Alice merely readied herself a bit more, and stopped retreating, facing forwards with the beautiful rosy blush on her face, with a firmness in her eyes, a determination.

Marisa was starting to get a bit embarrassed too...

Then, they spoke, voice still soft and unsure, yet present, perhaps already regretting to agree to the request, faltering gently and staying as quiet as they could:

"M... M... Marisaiscute." Alice muttered, as quickly as her voice could force out.

Adorable.

Absolutely adorable.

Did it stroke her ego? Yes.

Did she find it cute? Yes.

Did she want a bit more out of this? Yes.

And so, she said what some might consider immoral, but what'd she'd prefer merely teasing in nature.  "Didn't catch that, could you please repeat it for me, my dear Alice?"

...

"Marisa... is... cute."

"Which Marisa? There's hundreds of people named Marisa in the world, probably. You need to be a bit more specific."

"MarisaKirisameiscute! There! I said it! Happy?"

"It's good enough for me~"

"... I don't know why in Gensokyo I'm even friends with you."

"I guess I'm just that cute, no?"

"..."

After that, Alice merely walked away from the conversation, going off to perhaps get the present she was referring to, disappearing into the rest of her house.

Marisa on the other hand, was reveling in the fact that Alice just called her cute. A celebration went off in her mind, like a hundred mini-Marisa's were throwing party streamers and bouncing around in her head. It does feel nice to be called cute by a cute person, even if it was partially forced out of them. She couldn't help but smile, smile in self-satisfaction and the accomplishment at something so insignificant... A compliment, she was this happy out of achieving a compliment. And maybe teasing her friend, and getting to see such adorability. Maybe.

It's... so stupid... It's... so warm.

Or maybe that was the blush on her face for doing something so outrageous. It's hard to tell.

Hopefully Alice isn't too angry about that... but, this is normally part of their banter, so it should be fine. She still did owe Alice however... She'll just have to pay her back a bit extra later, right?

She could always do that...

She will do that.

A few minutes pass, the clock ticking away on the living room wall, the dolls scurrying about, drying their little umbrellas on the cute little rack by the door.

They lined up so neatly, one after another... and she was tempted enough by boredom to walk up to them.

She sat right by the line, staring into the glass eyes of the dolls. They stared back at her in turn, and whether in mutual curiosity, or the command of their owner, they began to surround her, Shanghai dolls encircling her on all sides. Some of them poked her, the others flew around her... but one of them decided to rest in her lap.

Alright, this was her new favorite doll, any doll that decides her worthy as a pillow, is the best doll.

She really couldn't tell it apart from the others though, it was wearing the same old adorable oversized bow on its blonde hair, dressed in the standard issue blue silk dress as every other doll in this house wears. So it's kind of favorite in spirit only, yet, was it not the intention that counts when it comes to these types of things?

But... aren't these things dolls, they don't exactly require sleep, to her knowledge.

Eh, why question a good thing?

Marisa began to do... well, what seemed right, if a doll comes to your lap, you are obligated by the natural rights of cute things in the universe to pat it in the head.

Her hand stroked the soft threads that made up the doll's hair, fingers brushing it in some haphazard direction. It was neatly combed, lacking any tangles or knots, smoothly flowing down the wooden shoulders. Thousands of little yellow fibers, culminating together to make a neat head of hair on the doll...

She hadn't really thought about it before, but wouldn't it be annoying to place each and every strand in? Or even making all the strands, cutting each and every one... and it still feels like regular old hair, it still had that meticulous perfection, meticulous replication of reality that Alice practiced whenever it came to something doll related. It's strange to think that Alice would need so much effort to make dolls, as she already had so many dolls, hundreds lining the shelves and closets... but perhaps it took a whole lotta effort to make such cute little things. Even magic couldn't precisely move thousands of hairs into specific places without a whole load of concentration. 

Yet, Alice just churns it them out like it's practically nothing. She even has kamikaze moves from time to time, sacrificing dozens of dolls and filling them with explosives. They're a bit more resource-intensive than she thought...

Regardless, Marisa continued patting the doll's little head, caressing it gently as the seconds whisked along, as the other dolls soon left to attend to their duties, flying away, deeper into the house.

And as soon as they did, a certain puppeteer walked into the room, dressed in her usual colors, blue from her dress, white from her blazer, and red from her ribbons, with short blonde hair similar to the dolls. Four colors, which is odd considering Alice is called the seven-colored puppeteer, where were the other three?

Marisa already knew where they were, she'd gone over this question hundreds of times upon meeting Alice, with all sorts of different locations for the hidden trifecta depending on the outfit, being placed on obscured accessories or stitching at times...

But for standard Alice attire, you just needed to be a bit more observant to get all the colors.

First off, Alice's headband and ribbons were red, but the headband was a scarlet sort of red, while the ribbons were more pinkish than red... and then there's the grey highlight on her blazer, making for six colors in total... And if you managed to catch a slight glimpse under the long blue dress that Alice wore, you could see a pair of shiny brown leather boots. That makes a total of seven, proving they were seven-colored puppeteer.

Alice was strangely proud of her title, she always had seven colors in her outfit. Always. Even in the girl's funeral clothes, there were spots of color that blended in, seams and stitches in a different shade as the rest, keeping the title regardless of occasion. Alice had explained it to her before, something to do with power levels and colors having a relationship of some sort, but considering Alice's strategy in danmaku, restraining her firepower to be only slightly above the opponent, she doesn't really gain any advantage with it.

It was another oddity with the puppeteer, another strange little fact about them. To search for power, yet never use it, to willingly restrain herself for the sake of the game. And, admittedly, she found the behavior... kinda endearing in some way, a part of the collections of adorable-ness known as Alice.

This Alice, which at the current moment, was holding a present: a box of moderate size, wrapped in yellow, and neatly tied together by a red ribbon. 

"Tada! Here's your present." they said, handing it over to her with little fuss.

"...Thank you?" she replied, not exactly sure what to say.

"You're welcome." Alice said, as she accompanied her on the floor, sitting in a cross-legged sort of position. "Now, open it."

"Okay, okay. What's even in this thing?" she asked, hands already well into untying the neat ribbon.

The present was light, easily jostled around by the slightest touch, yet it didn't really tell her all too much, there was no sound resonating on the inside. Alice must've soundproofed it before giving it to her...

"You'll see." they answered, smiling wide with pride leaking out of their expression. "I'm sure you'll like it."

No clues, then. Maybe it was something valuable? Or, at least handmade by Alice.

Maybe it was a dress, something to wear to fancy events, and probably to be washed by Alice, considering that she didn't know all too much about doing laundry. Maybe it was a fanciful magical artifact, that either would boost her magical power, or, more likely, something that'll display a couple of Alice's spells, entertain her with new magic or whatnot. Or maybe, it was something else entirely. She didn't know, and that's half the fun in opening presents, the surprise.

With the ribbon unfurled, Marisa was already tearing off the wrapping paper, leaving behind two sections of box, the body and the lid.

And as soon as the wrapping came off, whatever was inside moved, and a gap formed between the box and its lid. And within that gap, that tiny sliver of air, there was a pair of hands, miniature in size, of seemingly delicate construction. The hands had little ridges, tiny wooden joints that let them bend and flex. They pushed the lid over the edge of the box, and quickly after, Marisa saw what could very may be the third cutest thing in existence.

Like with all Alice's dolls, it had a blonde head of hair, a pale porcelain face, glassy blue eyes and a slight smile to its lips. And like all other dolls in the house, its frame was small, scale no bigger than the Shanghai doll resting in Marisa's lap, yet it bore a resemblance, the proportions matching with a particular puppeteer.

The hair was cut short, down only to its shoulders, embellished with a scarlet-red headband on its head. The dress was blue, long, wavy, with a reserved expression of elegance left on it, and placed over the dress was a blazer, colored white, with a gray highlight near its edge. Tying it all together were pink ribbons, with frilly white lace around its edges, it was dressed in a total of seven colors, with an outfit matching with its maker. And its face. It's face replica of its maker, with the same pretty-cute aesthetic that the original had, the unnatural little perfections that it had, the constructed appearance, the facade.

It was a mini-Alice.

A mini-Alice! All for herself! As a present from Alice.

Marisa did have plans to make such a doll herself at some point, somehow... but to get such a thing from Alice...

...

Regardless of the concerns of the other magician in the room, the doll moved with enthusiasm, bouncing right out of the box, springing right into action. It spun around, posed, performing a demonstration of sorts, showing off its flexibility, its strength, its utter adorability. It made fabric flutter around in the air, arms wave about from one edge to the other as it displayed its range of motion, acting and showing off its different capabilities, demonstrating its joints and construction with every move.

Then, other dolls joined in, bringing in a set of miniature furniture, setting up a little tea-table, with tiny seats lining the perimeter. Along with them was the Shanghai doll from her lap (sadly), which got up and followed the others, getting dressed with the regalia of low-ranking nobility.

Mini-Alice sat them down, setting up the adorable ceramics and china, pouring tea and plating little cookies. And, to add to more surprises, it talked. Not as in the regular lifeless prompts that Alice programmed into her dolls (which were cute but also kinda creepy).

But the doll, the Mini-Alice, actually spoke, words and phrases, starting a play of sorts, if she is to judge from the set of curtains drawn in by a different set of dolls. Now, the doll was no longer Mini-Alice, but a character in a play, the princess of a kingdom, with a tiny crown adorned upon her head.

So this was the present!

Almost an entire play later...

The room was dim, and only flickering candlelight was illuminating what little she could see. On the stage, Mini-Alice was lying in her bed, surrounded by an entourage of dolls. Nobles and commoners, people and non-people, friends and enemies, they all arrived to see. The doll's clothes were tattered, holes ripped into its seams, leaking a vile black miasma with every second that ticked on by. It was eating into its clothes, tearing into the bedsheets, painting everything in a dark muck. Most stayed away, watching with caution, preferring to not be covered by the mysterious air that surrounded the doll.

But by her side, holding her hand was a Shanghai doll madly in love and madly in grief, hair now ribbonless, glassy blue eyes crying into their grasp. It was Baroness Shanghai, a cute, yet a bit clumsy doll, that had a strong will, and an even stronger heart. A scene or two ago, they were fighting right beside each other, shooting danmaku and dodging between bullets, fighting the greatest threats to the kingdom.

And there they were, right in the throne room of the underworld, facing off against the ruler of those who invaded their country. Swords clashed, a fight happened, bullets and sparks flying in the air. Mini-Alice managed to stab them right in the heart, titanium piercing right through hard steel, charging alone in the zeal and passion she always possessed. Yet as she did, as the tip of her blade stabbed into the heart, a curse was cast, a spell that guaranteed the user's death, in exchange for the death of another of equal power.

Baroness Shanghai rushed in to her side, and tried to undo the curse, use whatever magic she knew of to solve things. The curse remained, however, and by the second, mini-Alice seemed to be getting weaker, as if consumed from the inside, needing to be carried to even move.

As they flew back to the kingdom, Mini-Alice continued to lose most of her strength, her magic, her vitality. 

They tried everything, healers, divine magic, medicine, a hundred different forms of anti-curse and life preservation magic. 

Yet nothing worked.

So, here they were, on her deathbed, crying and weeping as Mini-Alice fought the curse the best she could, withering slowly with each moment that passed on.

Muttering words, voice a faint tremor in the air, the princess was still speaking, still having much to say...

"... Shanghai... Shanghai... if... if I do, would... will you marry me?"

The doll motioned to respond, opening its mouth, rising in passion-

Then everything froze.

The light stopped flickering, the candle stood still in its flames. Not an inch moved between any of the dolls, and they all saw.

The princess stopped.

She stopped muttering her assurances and thank you's.

She stopped clutching onto the hand of her beloved Shanghai doll.

She stopped the rising and falling of her chest, she stopped the wonderful act of defiance towards inanimateness.

...

And she... died.

She died, and so the curtain closes, as the flickering candlelight by her bedside went out as well, as Baroness Shanghai began to weep, and as many others in the entourage began to do so as well.

...

...

...

A couple of seconds or so passes, and the curtains open again.

All the dolls were lined up on the stage regular-sized Alice had constructed, facing forwards, towards the small audience that watched. Which consisted of two people, Marisa, the ordinary magician, and Alice, the puppeteer and writer of the play. Marisa could spot familiar faces, characters she'd wept over before, characters she forgot, dolls in all sorts of outfits that made up the rotating cast.

And they bowed, to the small applause (and slight weeping) of the entire audience.

Marisa didn't know how many hours have passed, and she didn't care. She was clapping her hands to death, her eyes were wet with tears. It's just not fair! It's just not fair!

Princess mini-Alice didn't have to die, she had so much to live for, her lover (The adorable Shanghai doll from earlier that was the Baroness), the kingdom, the future they were going to have together. The entire act was so good, yet Alice just had to throw this in...

Though, admittedly, it's not exactly forced, anyone bitter enough would do the same thing to their opponent if they were already dying, an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth and all. But it lacked honor, it lacked elegance, it was the sort of act a sore loser would perform, unwilling to lose even after the opponent won. It's frustrating though, there was so much else that could've been, the date she had promised to Baroness Shanghai, the family reconciliation, the grand festival, they were all about to happen. Only for it to be torn away by a careless mistake, a fault in strategy, a misjudgment of an opponent.

That's... perhaps the beauty of tragedies like this one. In some way, the cost of actions, the cost of success, self-less virtues becoming one's own undoing, it all makes up the story. And... life was the same, bad things happen to good people all the time, so why should fiction be any different?

She had witnessed art, the pinnacle of it, where craftmanship intersects with storytelling, where reality interacts with fiction to create a visual performance. But it still... upset her in a way, frustrated at the injustice, at the unfairness of it all. It just didn't feel right; She wanted things to end up differently, end up better, have a happy ending and all.

And the creator of her upsetness was sitting right beside her, adorned in her seven colors, with blue on her dress, red in her ribbons, and a scattering of everything else across her body, clapping as she began to make the dolls disassemble the stage and set, hauling all of it off, out of sight and out of view.

Alice...

"I thought your gift was supposed to cheer me up?" she asked, as she wiped off a few tears from her face.

"You enjoyed it, no?" Alice replied, smiling with a self-satisfaction to her lips, tilting her head a bit as she did. "I think that counts as cheering you up."

"I... did, but couldn't you have shown me something with a happier ending? Something that wouldn't leave me a teary mess?"

"Think of it as payback for what you did earlier. Besides, you get the doll-Alice as well, so it's all fair, isn't it."

"What? I get mini-Alice?"

"...I put her in a present box and gave it to you, how is that not obvious?"

"I thought that was part of the theatrics?"

"Sometimes... you really do confuse me. One second, you're the smartest magician in Gensokyo, with intricate knowledge of the practical applications of 60 different obscure spells that I've barely even heard of, and the next moment, you fail to realize things like this."

"I just thought it was part of the performance, there didn't really seem to be a reason why would you even give me a doll?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

"Uhhh... Is it because you want to give me a near-lethal dose of cuteness?"

"Marisa..."

"Wait! You want to... cheer me up with performances from now on? Or maybe you just wanna show off your latest doll?"

"... Let's think about this carefully, Marisa. You have a friend named Alice Margatroid, who has an entire thing on making and controlling dolls, and she really, really cares for you, and she gives you a doll. Why would that be?"

"To somehow make me feel better? Or..." she muttered, before seriously trying to think about this...  So, Alice wants to care for her, and Alice is giving her a doll... and Alice controls the dolls... "Wait... do you plan on taking care of me using mini-Alice over here?"

"Close enough! And yes, I do. Just in case of emergencies though, you can't ask me for help with any of the chores you have around the house."

"I wouldn't make such a cute thing suffer, unlike you."

"And yet you make me worry about you whenever you go on a suicidal mission beating up half Gensokyo."

"You could've always go with me, if you're that worried. I have space on my broom."

"...I'm not interested in cleaning up after you."

"You don't have to do that, just stay right on my broom, warn me about some stray danmaku. You'd be free to work with your dolls and all if you want to."

"Pass, I still prefer to come through the front door of the Koumakan instead of the skylight. Just... visit here more often. That's all I want, really."

"Did you miss me that much after last time?"

"I guess so. And then you went on that whole thing with starving yourself for three days! Do you know what would've happened if I didn't decide to come over?"

"I know. You already told me earlier, Alice. I won't do anything like it again, promise."

"You better keep this one, alright?"

"I will. Don't worry."

"Y'know. Somehow, I felt that you were actually genuine with that one."

"That's because I was."

"Ah- I'm sorry. Well... want to have dinner?"

"Sure."

Chapter Text

The pair walked on over to the kitchen, one behind the other, or more accurately, one limping behind the other. She hadn't moved her legs in hours, sitting there, watching the show, not a single centimeter of movement... and now, each movement was painful, her entire lower body numb and screaming in a million different ways. It was something she was sort of used to by this point, she hadn't really been moving around recently. It was annoying though, couldn't her body just figure out how to walk like normal again?

Then again, Alice was the one who made her sit down for that long, not writing in any intermissions into the play... but maybe she could've just asked permission to leave for the bathroom to stretch her legs instead of waiting on Alice. So, it's kinda the fault of both of them, in that way.

Regardless of whose fault it was, it hurt, hurt more than the first time she tried standing up today all those hours ago, for some god-awful reason. Human biology just doesn't make sense sometimes. Sleep on the cold hard floor for three days straight and the pain is... somewhat tolerable, sit down for like six hours and it's just screaming in little muscle spasms she had to fight against every time she tried to move forward.

Ah, the consequences of her own actions, or rather the lack thereof.

Just... take it one step at a time, one step at a time.

Left...

Then right...

Then left again...

Then right again...

Steady, painful, progress.

Yet, a bit slow.

She could see the various dolls dashing to get around her, their little steps clamoring about, flying over, going in between her legs, probably running off to prepare the kitchen. Even with such short legs, being literal dolls, they were faster than her. Even with her progress, there was barely any distance between her and her seat, she could see the stage, being disassembled by a crew of French dolls, she could peer through the far-off glassy windows, their surface doused in the torrential rains of the outdoors, covering up whatever forest that remained outside.

It was-

"Marisa? Need some help?" asked the puppeteer in front of her, extending out a helping hand.

"Just a bit, my legs are acting a bit strange at the moment." she replied, taking hold of the support that was offered to her, pulling on it to boost herself up. Their touch was warm, in the same odd manner they were before, the delicate fingertips, the gentle movements.

This time, however, Alice seemed to have an idea, smiling to herself with a subtle curve to her lips, the light in her azure blue eyes sparkling a bit as she responded.

"So, do you want me to try carrying you, or would you prefer me assisting you like last time?"

In any normal circumstance, it would be easy to play this off as a mere joke, a simple folly to laugh about and move on with. But, to her now, it was a question not of rationality, but of irrationality, of weights and biases. She had a feeling that Alice would actually follow through with the first option, either out of their own pride or actual compassion. And, should she back down to the proposition, at its absurdity, she'd only be wasting a good opportunity. This might be the one of the few times in her life that she'd get Alice to do something this ridiculous, something which could only go well in her opinion.

It was obvious which one to choose.

"Well then, go ahead, lift me." she answered, lowering herself onto the ground, onto its- surprisingly warm embrace. Did Alice have insulation-

"Don't blame me if I drop you back down." they replied, as they bent themselves to the floor, almost sitting on it as they did.

"You're the one who proposed this!"

"Yeah, yeah, let me focus for a bit..."

For a moment, Alice stared at her, just... stared at her, looking at her with a sort of intensity to it, like they were scanning the mere elements of her own being, of her own existence. The puppeteer seemed lifeless, the tips of her fingers laying motionless on the ground, the rise and fall of their chest slowing to a grinding pace. Yet their eyes focused, their azure shade set on some task, shining with a bright light of some sort, which just might be Marisa hallucinating at this point, but she'd like to interpret it as Alice's passion, yes, the brilliant glow of the ideas that goes on within her friend's head. Someone once told her that the soul is reflected in the eyes, and for her own sanity, she'll believe it.

And Alice only took a bit to recover from this trancelike state, quickly sliding her arms under Marisa's body, one placed to support the knees, the other clasping her back. There was a lot of effort to even do that, a bit of pained grunts and heavy breathing but it didn't feel forceful, just awkward.

Then, they lifted her up, legs pushing against the ground, bracing for the load as her body steadily climbed upwards. It was slow and methodical, as the body of a dollmaker, while dexterous, relied more on precision than mechanical strength, after all. But Marisa could feel herself get pulled up, see the change in perspective, her head now matching her normal height. She could now see the proud smile on their face, the beaming nature of their eyes, the little details of shadow and light around their cheeks and lips, the subtle redness, the pale appearance. And she could feel the dollmaker's warmth through their many layers, the strange comforting sensation, the softness of leaning into them- it something that made her heart palpitate every so often, skipping beats, probably caused by the fear of being dropped onto the hardwood floor, but who was she to say that?

The only thing separating her from falling and being a shambling mess of pain was Alice's own strained arms, and she could feel them bend slightly whenever the dollmaker lost a bit of focus, whenever they felt a twinge of exhaustion. That didn't dissuade the puppeteer though, as they seemed fully confident in the setup.

"So, do you like the view up here?" Alice asked, as she lifted Marisa a tiny bit more for added effect.

"I'm not that short, I can normally see from this height!" she answered. She was perfectly average height for a healthy young magician of her age, Alice was just tall. There was no right, no good excuse, no reason for her to prod at Marisa's height. It was just a few centimeters of difference, a little height gap between the two of them, not an entire chasm. The view was almost the same, in perspective, in what she could see...

But despite that, Alice was stubborn and tried lifting her up a bit more, using her knee to push Marisa up from the bottom for an increase in height, straightening out their legs and their back a bit more... the magician getting raised ever higher and higher in the dollmaker's grasp, the floor drifting further and further below her.  And, at some point in between the grunts of effort and pained expressions, Marisa's head was practically level with Alice's. Now, their eyes were able to stare at each other without angle, each face only a few centimeters apart from the other.

Marisa could feel the heavy breaths Alice let out, the slight warmth in the air, the moisture, the tiredness. It was strange, it was close, the position was awkward, obtuse. Yet Alice smiled, looking happy and content with herself, pulling in Marisa a bit closer, a bit more firmly...

"Y'know... you're surprisingly light. I expected you to be heavier." they muttered out, as they took a step forward, face already reddening.

"Well, I don't have any of my potions and grimoires on me right now, so I'm as light as possible right now." she answered. "Enjoy it as it lasts."

"Eh, I've been thinking about being more physically active recently... so maybe the weight could serve as a future challenge someday."

"...Are you seriously thinking about doing this again?"

"Unless you disapprove, then, I'm open to trying this out another time. It's kind of fun, in a strange way."

"I guess... so."

Marisa was a bit dumbfounded by that. But, it was sort of nice to be carried by Alice... so, why complain?

They continued in silence, as they usually did while going from place to place. There was a beauty to it, to the soft steps of Alice's shoes upon the wood of the floor, to the contingent of dolls waddling below Marisa that were ready to catch her at any moment, to the smiling face that she saw, that panicked at every little motion, that blushed at every almost-accident, at every sudden motion. It felt strange, a comfort of sort filling her heart even in the awkward position, even in the strange carry that Alice used on her.

She didn't really bother to look around that much, rather focusing on the dollmaker herself, the one who dictates whether or not her back will be in usable condition by the end of this. Alice, Alice Margatroid, the odd friend of hers that loved dolls... and cared about her, for some reason.

Why? It's hard to tell.

They were friends, yes, but... why?

Why were they friends?

Why did she choose to help her?

Why did she care about her?

Marisa never treated Alice that well, she'd help out with whatever spell Alice needs data in, or gathering materials here or there, but those always came at a cost. Borrowed grimoires, perhaps a sewing kit or two if they seem magical enough, a few extra momenta for her shop's collection. It's almost by impulse she takes these things... And, Alice doesn't like that all too much.

There was every reason for Alice to go and kick her out, to openly lock Marisa out of her home and her business...

But Alice didn't.

Alice stayed, well, as Alice. She stayed kind regardless of what pranks happened on her property, regardless of what things went missing after her last visit, regardless of the troubles she brought along...

It's strange.

Well, that's a good thing about Alice, she always was the oddly kind dollmaker of their forest. A friend that she can rely on, despite the occasional verbal transgressions they had with each other. She liked that about Alice, it's even probably one of the few reasons she's even alive!

But, Alice was always like that, weren't they? Doing strange things and all, talking to dolls, nailing straw dolls to trees, having a slight obsession with dolls... Maybe taking care of magicians was just one of her odd hobbies?

Maybe. That's only a question Alice could answer, and Alice... was Alice.

She wouldn't tell her motivations out so easily, would she? Alice would never tell her something that was so personal. And... she didn't feel too open to knowing about it. Not right now. She was curious, but she didn't feel that it was... right to know, like it'd taint something about their current state.

But she wanted to know, know what Alice thought of her, what Alice was thinking, what Alice wanted.

Alice...

Alice...

Alice?

Alice...

"Alice..." she quietly muttered to herself. It was on impulse, something within her telling her to say it. Then she did it again, "Alice..."

Somehow, it felt nice to just whisper their name out like this. To say it so quietly out in front of them, and they didn't even notice it. Something within her just... liked it? Liked the name or liked to say it, the word, the concept, the meaning of 'Alice' was cathartic to say out loud, even if it was so quiet. For it to just be drowned out in the noise of the rain, where Alice herself remained oblivious, carrying on, smiling to themselves. It made her happy, ecstatic, joyful in such a foreign way, making her heart beat in excitement. It was like she was pulling a little prank that couldn't be discovered, yet was on the edge of being caught.

In essence, it was interesting, so she did it another time.

"Alice..." she muttered again, heart thumping for some strange reason or another. It made her blush, blood rushing to her face, warming it, heating it in spite of the cold weather that they were having.

Yet, even as it was so peculiar, she liked the feeling, the sensation of warmth that she felt. It was captivating, like a spectacle of stars in the sky. You just... like it because it catches your attention, it does something you find interesting. And Alice looked entirely oblivious to what she was doing, staying with their warm rosy-red cheeks and shining blue eyes, accompanied by the same wobbly smile.

"Alice, Alice, Alice." The focus of her attention, of her thoughts. She liked to see the person in front of her, in a way reassuring herself of their existence. Marisa liked to wonder about her friend, the strange aspects that they were composed of, the motivations, the desires, the wishes. She wanted to know why Alice was the way she was, why Alice was treating her in this way, why Alice made her feel this way.

Yet those questions shall go unanswered, because they clearly are things she'll never get the answer to. They were things that she wanted to know, but at the same time didn't want to. That just is the way her emotions were.

She liked being in this stasis, right before she asks questions, where she can be in an endless state of fascination. Where all the answers to her questions could be any number of things, any amount of words and paragraphs, any description or sensation.

It was-

"Uhh... Marisa? Do you need anything?" the dollmaker asked. "You were calling my name out a few times earlier."

...

...

...

"Marisa?" they asked again, this time leaning in their head a bit closer, as if to get a better listen on her response.

Okay, okay... what's a reasonable question to have in this situation...

"I just wanted to know what's for dinner." she answered with a smile. "I'm a bit curious, at the moment."

"I'm thinking of whipping up some steak, if you'd like." they replied, hopefully convinced by the whole thing.

"That sounds delicious! And y'know, I haven't gotten steak from you before. I think it's nice to finally have something aside from sweets and pastries all the time here."

"You haven't?" they replied. "I guess it's because you haven't been invited to the Magician's barbeque. You've kinda gotten a bad rep with some of our members."

"Who cares about them," Marisa answered in response. It was upsetting that she missed out on something like that, but… "I still have you, don't I?"

"... I guess you do, Marisa. I guess you do have me."

"Yeah! None of them would've visited me like earlier... You're the only one that cares about me, no?"

"Well, I think Byakuren does care about you somewhat-"

"But she didn't come for me, while you did."

"You certainly could see it that way, Marisa."

"That's not my point... it's that... well, you actually like care about me and do stuff for me… and I... appreciate that?"

"I see... so you've finally learned the virtue of gratitude. One step at a time, I guess."

"Progress is progress."

"It is. At this rate, maybe one day you'd stop stealing people's stuff."

"I'm just borrowing those! And... maybe I'd return a few of yours someday."

"You don't have to..."

"Really?"

"I just feel like you'll need them more than I do."

"...thanks."

"That doesn't mean you can continue 'borrowing' other people's stuff! You have to ask permission when it comes to these types of things, alright?"

"But they're not half as nice as you, Alice."

"Maybe they'd be nicer if you didn't take their things."

"Not that it'd change if I returned them right now! I still have so many experiments to do on most of them."

"Don't blame me if they knock on your door trying to take them back."

"I won't, Alice." she replied, smiling her usual charismatic grin.

Alice merely sighed in response, before returning to her task of transporting the two of them.

The rest of the trip was rather short, only a few remaining steps forward. Yet it felt so long, so drawn out, each moment sticking to her mind, the feeling of it all. She could feel her own heart racing, pounding as it barely escaped her own foolishness, she could sense the redness of her own face, flush from embarrassment, that Alice actually heard the whole sequence of 'Alice's that were uttered. She should've been punished for that, paid the price for her own audacity. But Alice... Alice could just be too nice for her own good sometimes...

Yet the conversation that came after... it made her smile, it made Alice smile. She could feel Alice being actually proud of her at some point. And... she was proud of herself, kinda. Even if she hadn't done anything yet... thoughts are the first thing needed to become actions, you can't act without them. She'll become a better person... slowly.

For Alice, and for herself.

Yeah... for Alice and herself.

...

She really needed to think of something to give Alice for all this at some point...

...

...

...

A little while later, the walk ends. Marisa gets lowered onto one of the chairs of the dining room, and things return to their almost normal state. There was visual scenery to temporarily distract herself from all her thoughts and questions about Alice for now.

She was sitting on a chair by the dining table, where the dolls flew around and about, carrying dinner plates and fine silver. The cute little things, all proper looking with their prim-cut dresses and little blazers, set the dinnerware across the table, ensuring each one is perfectly aligned with the rest, shifting each back and forth to the dollmaker's liking. Alice's house was... surprisingly well-furnished, lots of different utensils and plattery, the wooden seats soft and warm, the tablecloth embroidered out in front of her had a nice textured feel to it, if a bit too delicate at places. And there were even a few strange appliances from the outside world around here, a fridge, a microwave, an electric oven... even a toaster.

Where did Alice even get those things?

There were a few possibilities running around in her head, firstly, and kind of unlikely, was that she bought them from the kappa, but the kappa were nothing but protective over their technology, fearing it may fall to tengu hands outside of their protection. The next hypothesis was that she got it from Kourindou... which is possible, but she had reserve orders for some of these things as well! And most of the time, the missing items that end up on this side of the barrier are worn down decades-old things, and are barely functional half the time. A fridge would be so useful for storing all the ingredients she needs for her potions without having to pay Cirno to freeze things off...

So, her final hypothesis is that Yukari was involved in one way or another. That'd explain the semi-functional appearance of most of the things here, and she has heard from Reimu that... Yukari does take orders for things in the outside world from the Youkai, at a price of course.

It made sense that Alice would have access to that as well, princess of Makai and all means that she probably has a fortune or two hidden around here somewhere to buy such luxuries. Or maybe Shinki's sending stuff over here as well? That might actually be more reasonable... If Shinki could send Alice home appliances, Shinki definitely would send some pretty decent stuff for her daughter.

Though, that's all theory, and it's not like she could get any appliances of her own by questioning Alice about them. But maybe she could rent out a bit of her fridge whenever Cirno's being annoying...

Anyways, as there's little else to ponder about the place she hasn't already pondered before, back to her normal business of observing Alice. Her doll-loving, oddly kind, friend. 

Off to a side, standing by the stove, was Alice. It was the dollmaker-puppeteer-magician herself, holding a cast-iron frying pan over the blue flames of her gas burner. The meat within sizzled in place, the sound of oil and water mixing, letting off a strong aroma of fresh beef, of butchered cattle, mixed in with a bit of... butter? Something like that at least. Marisa never really understood cooking beyond the basics of stew making, rice cooking and frying things in general. Seasoning, techniques, baking, none of that was ever really familiar with her.

She knew how they worked, the basic chemical reactions and physical processes that were involved in how bread rises or what makes flavor as things cook up in a pot, but her formal education on actually making that type of stuff kinda ended when she decided to be a magician. There probably was a grimoire or two that discussed cooking food in depth though, like how fire grimoires discuss the process of flames, of oxidation. But, she hasn't gotten around to borrowing something like that from Patchouli...

Maybe Alice has one? 

...

Probably not, seeing as they prefer working with their hands, not with magic of some sort. Knowing Alice, they'll probably give her a cookbook if she asks for a cooking grimoire, which would probably discuss the mechanics of cooking as well... just without magic, severely damaging its coolness. But if there was an actual cooking grimoire... it would be kind of a cool present idea. How would Alice even react to that? Perhaps with a bit of disbelief that someone, somehow, in dedication to cooking, rationalized being a magician to achieve that. Magic is leagues harder than cooking, all the research and experiments, the wasted material, the steep learning curve. It would probably be easier to become a professional chef, or the chef of royalty than to become a magician. It's an interesting story... but that's not exactly what she wants to give at the moment.

What she wanted to give Alice was something that'd be meaningful, something that they'd actually appreciate, much like the treatment Alice was giving her at the moment, something that they'd enjoy.

Yet, what could that be? 

Something that'd impress them, something they'd remember, they'd cherish.

Well, if she gives Alice a doll, they'd definitely cherish it, considering their obsession. But that wouldn't be too in style, it didn't have Marisa's own touch to it. It had to be something of hers to give to Alice, something that, when Alice looks at it, it'd be screaming 'Marisa made this'. Something bombastic, something made of magical spells and incantations, that'd light up the sky with the beauty comparable to the stars. She'd like to make something that, while not small, is compact, something Alice could bring with her, ideally.

Okay...

Something that lit up the sky could be... a projection, an emission of light to form an image. It could be a magical thing, a box of sorts that takes in magical energy and outputs whatever image she placed on there. And why should it be just one image? She can definitely put like a dozen or so in it if she tries hard enough... Aside from that it'll need motion, so she can display cool danmaku patterns as well. Yeah... 

How'd that work though?

It'd have to be precise... aiming for the right area from where the spell started, drawing an image relative to the center of the spell itself. It'd take a bit of calculation to do just that, figuring out the right angles to make things look right, to preserve the original image. And then for the motion, it'll need to move around the projection, distort it while adding new things for more bullets...

It's pretty complicated. There's so many parts that'll be needed for the spell, each individual portion of light needing to be moved around and displayed...

Like, even for a basic figure, say, a pure white sphere, she'd have to calculate what angle to render it at, scale it in proportion to its distance from the spell, adjust the magical power involved. Then if that sphere has any detail, she'd have to record the colors of each area, how it changes with the lighting of the scenery, and how it looks as it moves around. It'd be inelegant, requiring a bunch of different things to be done over and over again, it needed to be simplified, somehow. Though, most of the complication came with the difference in angle from the main spell, from how far it was from the center of the area.

If, hypothetically, she was centered at the sphere, it'd be rather simple to draw it without too much calculation, she'd just get the needed magical power from the detail of the object, and then just beam the image around, drawing the points from the center of the lattice, outwards. And that whole being centered thing was basically just having another spell doing it... the motion could be done by moving the source of the spell around with some main 'motion' spell from the box. And all the box would have to do is create these spells on input, and that was simple! Magical energy to spell techniques have already been developed, so she just has to use that for this part...

But lighting still exists, and all the images would look a bit wonky if they lacked lighting...

Though, each of the spells could do their own math to account for that, pretend that they were the objects, then, from the center of the spell, detect all the light hitting them, and brighten up wherever it is being hit by light, and dim parts that aren't. Some spells, like those for danmaku could ignore that since they emitted their own light, and will just be drowned out by a brighter light source if they were present. The main problem would be writing up the initial spell itself, to create spells for complex things like human figures, you'll need an entire book worth of parchment to even have a rough approximation of a person. Despite that, things like danmaku, and perhaps basic shapes would be fine...

And, she doesn't need to do the approximation of a person by hand, all she needs is a profile, a description relative to the center. That can be done by another spell, that goes around and records all the points and important details, finds the center and notes it down for the displaying spell. Then... she can essentially repeat that over and over again to record something moving, just keep making new spells that copy the figure as it does its action, and during display, just have another spell swap them out.

...

This was perhaps one of her better ideas. An entire presentation-thing that makes light apparitions. There could even be a knob at the side that controls size, and... since each spell was already at the center, it wouldn't sound off if they had sound, the voices would be coming from the right locations relative to wherever you were watching.

She had to make this... Even a prototype, a simple recording and display of a danmaku bullet, less than an inch in size was a bit involved... but doable.

Marisa drew out her mini-hakkero and started tinkering, writing arcane words words in the air, using it to set a method for object-writing, to describe it as a set of points and dots to be projected radially outwards, to make smooth curves and bends for gentle surfaces, to add jagged edges where need be. Though, it was a whole lot less simple than just thinking, she had to figure out what words to actually use, how to arrange them so the leylines work properly, even if there was such an abundance of magical energy thanks to her hakkero.

Making spells was far too much of a hassle as compared to casting them, but she had the ideas, the concepts, they should fit together, they exist independently, so they should be able to work together. Even if this current implementation is a bit scuffed, using the principle of an explosive trigger for traps to detect edges within objects, and making it not trigger for merely being within a surface, but requiring it to be on the surface, on the edge to record a value, and the value is just a simple surge in magical energy, she can use that to draw an image if she does things sequentially. With each increase in detected magical power, a point is drawn, and... she hasn't figured out color just yet, so it's just a sphere of pure white points floating in the air, signifying the edge of a standard random danmaku bullet.

The sphere twinkled in the air, as the local intensity of magic flickered from the amount being used. It was energy intensive, needing about twice the amount of a regular apparition if she had just conjured it from her mind... but this one took less effort on her part, mostly automated by magic itself, she didn't need to be physically present for this to display the image. But this was just the first draft, it could get so much better if she just invested a bit more time and effort-

Plop.

Something landed on Marisa's head, settling itself in the knots and locks of her hair. It was soft, light, and curious, peeking downwards to take a look at what she was doing.

"Marisa?" asked the doll on her head, echoing out a facsimile of Alice's voice. "Doing anything interesting?"

"Just practicing a bit of magic here, it's been days since I've last done this." she answered, presenting her mini-hakkero to the doll with a bit of hand waving.

"I... see. Well, you should start cleaning this up soon, dinner's almost ready." the doll answered, as it settled itself further into Marisa's hair, burying itself in it. It was strange... but also sort of comforting in a way. Like a bird making a nest of sorts. A really strange, doll-like bird that was controlled by her friend.

She didn't really mind it, and merely followed mini-Alice's advice, dispelling the formation of light and putting her hakkero safely back into her pocket. She'll just have to work on it later, and she was beginning to feel pretty hungry. Marisa turned to the dollmaker, taking a glance at their work in the kitchen. There was a pair of plates set on the counter, taken from the table by a few dolls. They had on it a deep brown meat coated in a variety of seasonings and spices, it had an aroma to it, a tinge of garlic, perhaps a bit of butter in there, she didn't really know what type of flavorings Alice used, but from the scent alone, she can tell that that it was beef.

Beside the meat, was the rice, as any good dish should have, soaking up the stray juices and ounces of flavor, staining in the brown color of the steak beside it. They were set in little cup shapes, almost looking like pudding in a way, stacked and molded by the strange scooping device that Alice used, making a cute pile of fluffy white rice. It was warm, steaming its moisture into the air, and was readily being brought to the table by Alice herself.

She placed the plates down carefully, centering them in between the utensils that were set out onto the table, before sitting down on the table herself. Alice seemed to just sit there though, glassy blue eyes staring in amusement of whatever captured that dollmaker's fascination. It probably was the mini-Alice in her hair, but wasn't Alice the one who put her there?

...

...

...

"So... are you going to remove her from my head?" she asked Alice, pointing to the doll.

"Alright, alright. I was honestly a bit worried that you'd just accept it and eat with mini-Alice up there." they replied, motioning in a quick flick for the doll to leave. It did so, but only resettled to the table, finding a new home on the soft tablecloth. "I'm surprised you just tolerated that in the first place."

"Eh, it wasn't doing anything too strange up there, didn't really see the need to at first. What did you even do that for?" she questioned.

Alice took a bit of time to answer, taking her time to come up with an answer, putting the words together in their head. And Marisa watched her, as... what else was she to do? The puppeteer seemed so tranquil, smiling haplessly as her arms rested on the table, lying parallel to each other, slightly flexing and bending as she thought of a response. There was nothing unusual about the sight, Alice was just thinking, being happy while doing so is not out of the ordinary. But something struck her as it being remarkable, the way the incandescent lights shone on her, the orangish-glint on their skin, the way it reflected in her eyes. The colors blended, orange in blue, sparkling and glinting as Marisa watched, slightly mesmerized by the sight.

It was like looking at a doll, skin as pale and fragile as porcelain, almost still yet so lively, posed elegantly, arms on the table and head in a tilt. Alice always had such a proper appearance, always looking... cute, in a way. Not as cute as Marisa was, but it was pretty... Yes, it was merely pretty.

And soon enough, Alice came up with a response. Saying it in clear certainty, using the melodic notes of their voice to form words, and expressions. 

"I was curious, so I satisfied my curiosity. Besides, it looked pretty cute from the outside, so I thought to continue it." they answered in her usual faux-confidence, telling her a lot and almost nothing at all. There was some substance, a bit of it still remaining even after the meaning of words were merely hollowed out from the expression. Alice wanted to see something, or perhaps demonstrate something when it came to her handling of dolls, but what, and why?

"Curious about-" Marisa uttered in response, before stopping herself. She saw the grin on Alice's face, it was lovely, sure, yet she could see the intended misdirections and confusions that they contained. They weren't going to give a proper answer, and if they do, it's unlikely to actually be right. It's best to just skip the chatter and get to the meal already. "Y'know what, let's just eat already."

"I... Okay." they said, smile loosening, fading itself from their face. "Enjoy the meal."

"I- I will, Alice." she replied, putting on a smile on her own to compensate. Something was wrong. Nothing was physically different from before, the room the same as it ever was, the food on their plates and the dolls roaming about, yet the mood, the mood was off. She upset Alice. Somehow. Or at least just shut her down for a bit. Was she too rude? Too brash? She didn't know...

Meanwhile, Alice merely began to start eating, cutting open her steak with a silver knife, slicing through with a medical precision, exposing the pink flesh to the outside air. Sauce seeped in through the newly formed seams, staining and absorbing into the rest of the meat. Then, Alice forked up a piece, placing it into her mouth and gently chewing on it. It had all the flairs of class and grace, all the style and elegance that Alice usually carried herself with... but it was a bit off, a bit more gloomy.

Though, Marisa merely followed suit, and began to eat as well, ripping and tearing at her plate with her spoon, scooping up a mini-plate of meat and rice together and eating as she pleased. It tasted nice. The flavor was a mix of spiciness and perhaps a bit of salt, accompanied by... steak, the tenderness of it, the texture, the juicy feeling in her mouth that came with each bite. The food was good though, and she did enjoy Alice's cooking, which... is just objectively delicious, and thanks to that, she had already emptied out her plate in just a few minutes.

She did feel bad though, she didn't like to see Alice frowning like that, but... what could she have done? Maybe Alice wanted her to prod a bit more to get an answer? Maybe she should've asked. There was no harm in that, was there? Alice probably wanted a bit of banter to go along with her meal, and she just rejected it entirely. She didn't mean to do that...

But how does she fix this, what does she say?

Does she just start up a conversation right now? 

What would she talk about? Ask about?

The mood was already awkward from the silence, she couldn't just say something like 'oh did you want to talk about something?'. And even imagining that was a bit hard to do...

...

...

...

Why was she even bothering herself about this? It's just a frown, the absence of happiness, it's not that big of a deal.

But, it upset her as well, she didn't like Alice frowning, not especially if she, the cutest and greatest Marisa Kirisame in existence, was the reason for that. She had to at least try to fix it, somehow.

She could talk about anything, it's not like Alice would dislike a bit of conversation…

Alice didn’t seem too busy. She was sitting there, just across from her, head focused towards the table, eating with a slight forward lean. It wasn’t all too clear, but she could still spot it, their overcast expression, the way their lips bent towards the ground. It was different from all the faces Alice has shown her thus far, lacking the worried stare or gleeful little laughs, being in… some form of upsetness.

They still were cute though, perhaps even cuter than before, approaching Marisa levels of cuteness, at least. She could see the slight dimness in their eyes, how the azure blue of their iris lacked the little sparkle of joy that she’d see all too often. And, their hair seemed to mimic their emotions, the blonde locks drooping slightly, sinking and lowering themselves to the point of almost touching the table. Still, even if they were cuter… 

She’d prefer a smiling Alice.

She wanted Alice to be happy. 

She wanted to make Alice happy. 

Alice has made her so happy throughout this day, has done so much for her, that she’d… want to repay the favour, maybe even go beyond that.

…

The statement made her feel odd, made her feel warm. It was strange…

But, she knew that she wanted Alice to be happy, to be ecstatic, and preferably because… of her. And to do that, she needed to start up a conversation, talk about anything and everything under the sun.

And, in relation to the things that happened earlier, she had a question she herself was curious about.

"So, how'd it feel to be in my hair?" she asked, as she combed her hair with her fingers, finally fixing it up. She hadn’t realized it before, but the doll had messed up her hair while nesting into it, which she should’ve expected. There were a few new tangles, a bit of roughness, but nothing too unusual. Her hair had remained largely the same, before and after the mini-Alice settled into it.

To her words, Alice suddenly looked up from her plate. For a moment, Marisa could spot a different expression on their face, one of slight confusion, before they immediately faced back down, only then to slowly raise their head once again. How strange…

"It was cleaner than I expected, and softer, too." Alice answered, as she scooped up the last bits of food on her plate. "You take surprisingly good care of it."

"But, did you enjoy being in it?" she asked, she already knew enough about the condition of her own hair. She wanted to know what Alice thought about it. “I want to know what your rating is, from 1-10.”

"Hmm… I did enjoy it a bit. It was nice enough to rest in, at least. So, I’ll give it an 8." they replied, as they ordered a bunch of dolls to the table, letting them roam and carry off their used plates, as a different battalion brought them glasses of water.

A little Shanghai doll went to her side, carrying a glass atop their head, dressed in a little maid outfit, with lace lining each seam and edge. They placed the glass onto the table, right where her plate used to be, before bowing their head as they left.

“Thanks, Shanghai.” she muttered out, wanting to show appreciation for their efforts.

“Shanghai!” the doll replied, jumping up and letting their dress bounce around in the air. They acted all excited, bowing down and putting on a smile, almost twirling for a moment or two.

…Cute.

It’s hard to admit… but maybe Alice had a point about talking to dolls being fun.

But regardless, they had a conversation going on, and it didn’t satisfy her to end it off at just that. There were questions that she still needed answers to, after all.

“What were you even curious about to even test that?” Marisa asked, before she drank her water. It was… well, water, entirely flavorless but still refreshing. A bit cool to the touch of her lips, but not uncomfortably so. 

Alice seemed to do the same thing, drinking from her glass as well, perhaps using the time as an opportunity to think of an answer. She looked a bit mischievous, smiling a bit wider, with eyes that sparkled under the orange lights.

“Would you like to guess?” she asked, as she propped her head forward, resting it on the table using her arms. Alice herself seemed to light up, getting into the mood for their little banters, shining in a certain way to Marisa’s eyes.

“Hmm… maybe you wanted to try being a bird?”

“...what?”

“So that’s not it, is it… collecting hair samples for your doll experiments?”

“No? What sort of person do you think I am?”

“You’re an Alice type of person.”

“That doesn’t really mean anything, though.”

“Well, to me, you’re an Alice, your own type of person.”

“Is there anyone else in that category?”

“I… wouldn’t say so, you’re pretty special, y’know.”

“... Say whatever you want, do you have another guess?”

“Maybe you just wanted to be in my hair?”

“Wrong again, does anything else come to mind?”

“Just tell me, Alice…”

“Why should I tell you, though?”

“Because I’m your friend, ze…? And besides, I have the right to know why you wanted to be in my hair, it’s… like, my hair, after all.”

“Hmm… Alright, you do have some right to know. But, do you really want to know?”

“Of course!”

“Well… I wanted to see if you’d notice the spider I brought in with mini-Alice up there.”

…

“What…?”

“Ah, it seems that you didn’t.”

“Wait, wait wait- There is no spider, right?”

“It’s right there, Marisa. Sitting in your hair.”

“I can’t feel it though… it’s not there. There’s nothing up there. Stop joking around.”

“I’m not lying, Marisa. It’s there, just check in the mirror. Or, just grab it off your head.”

Now, the reasonable thing to do is to verify that statement, place her hand to her head and motion around a bit. But that’d be playing to Alice’s plan, bending over and believing in the possibility that Alice would’ve done something. And Alice definitely wouldn’t put a spider up there… would she?

“There’s nothing up there, Alice.”

“Just feel for it, you’ll see it.”

“No.”

“Well, that’s your choice~ Don’t blame me if it starts making cobwebs there.”

…

It was hard to resist the temptation, the prime instinct to trust their words and simply check. But she was determined to see this out until Alice told the truth. And, it was more fun for the both of them that way, wasn’t it?

“I checked earlier, I combed my hair, there’s nothing.”

“What if it just moved out of the way? Just check for yourself already, there’s no harm to it, is there?”

“There isn’t, but-”

“Exactly! There isn’t anything wrong with checking, so, you should check.”

“But I know you’re lying. You have to be. There’s literally nothing there.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

“...It’s about the principle. If you admit to lying, then I’d check for you, since you want me to do it so badly.”

“Marisa Kirisame trying to get someone to tell the truth, you really do get to see everything these days… I’m really proud of you Marisa, but, sadly, you’re still wrong here.”

“I don’t lie that much. And like… you shouldn’t be lying either, Alice.”

“But I’m not lying though.”

“...really?”

“I’ve been telling you the same thing for the last minute, there’s a spider up there.”

“And I don’t believe that you’d do that.”

“Well, you would once you check what the spider is made of.”

…

What the spider is made of? Huh?

Wait…

Marisa placed a hand on her head and placed it squarely on top, where she could feel a soft small ball-shaped object between her fingers, lightly clinging onto her hair. It felt like curtains, the texture of the fabric, the smoothness, the softness of it. It even squished a bit with her press, and she could roughly guess what it was from that alone.

She pulled it off and placed it on the table, gently lowering it to be seen.

“A stuffed toy… well, now I can see why you’d do this.”

“It was pretty funny watching it on your head as you ate, you barely noticed it at all.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself… this is a pretty ‘Alice’ thing to do.”

“What does that even mean?”

“It’s something like… a set of things I’d associate with you?”

“So are there ‘Marisa’ things as well?”

“Of course, like being cute, being good at magic, all sorts of cool stuff.”

“I do the whole being cute thing better than you, though.”

“You might be pretty cute, but you aren’t that cute.”

“Agree to disagree?”

“Agree to disagree.”

“Well then, you should start getting ready for bed. It’s already pretty late into the night.”

“Wait… I’m sleeping here?”

“Unless you’re willing to fly out into the storm on your own, then I’m forcing you to.”

“What time is it, anyways?”

“7:30.”

“That’s way too early to be going to bed, Alice.”

“You’re a patient, Marisa. You can’t even walk properly, you need as much rest as possible to recover.”

“Touché.”

“I can read you a storybook or something if you’d like. Might help you get in the mood to sleep.” Alice proposed.

Now, she could play along and have a little more banter… but she’d like to see Alice do something interesting again. This is another once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, Alice would probably never willingly do this for her in any other circumstance.

So, Marisa accepted.

“Well then, what are we going to read for tonight? Can it be your grimoire?” She asked, playfully tilting her head to the puppeteer as she did. “I’ve been curious if you’ve added anything to it ever since the last time I checked.”

“Wow… alright, I’ll find something for us to read that’s not my grimoire then. I didn’t expect you to actually accept that.” they remarked. “What next, you want us to sleep together tonight?”

Again, Alice fails to learn her lesson.

“Sure thing, Alice. I’m willing to go along with what you want.”

“I didn’t-” she muttered, before letting out a sigh. “I really should stop doing that. Fine, let’s sleep together as well. What’s the harm in that anyways?”

Alice got up from the table, presumably to not get into any more strange obligations. Along with her was a squadron of little dolls, following her like a little tail, before going off into different directions as she wandered into the hallway, grabbing various items from storage.

Marisa attempted to follow, standing slowly, bracing for the inevitable pain that’ll follow…

And nothing.

Sure, it still stung, the feeling of strain still lingering on. But it was actually bearable, she could walk around in a little circle, balance herself, and re-learned how to walk.

Now, it was time to proceed to do the things for preparing to go to bed, she had a storybook session to attend.

The girl waltzed on over to the nearest bathroom, going through one tall hallway after another, turning left and right, trying to remember the exact instructions to get to the bathroom. From the kitchen… it’s right left left right?

Around her were the familiar sights of the Margatroid household, the incandescent lighting, the various scattered knick-knacks and magical objects around the house, cleaning supplies, and occasionally, the passing doll.

It certainly wasn’t the first time she’s been around here, but she never visited all too frequently, once a week at the best of times, and most of the time she merely had a few biscuits before going off to the next destination she wanted to go to.

But, if her memory serves her right, the bathroom should be around… here!

She looked at the door in front of her, there was nothing all too different about it from the usual doors of the place. The wood is smooth, lacking any chipping or dents, the grain mostly uniform, and it was painted over with a thin layer of varnish. Although, it did have those strange… what do you call them… door-blinds? Something like that attached to the bottom. It lets the air pass through the door without letting anyone see through to the other side. But why?

There already was a window in the bathroom, there was no need for extra ventilation, was there? But maybe Alice just wanted it, for one strange reason or another. Maybe it connected a few little leylines for better magical concentration, maybe it was for safety or for some reason that she could never think of.

Regardless of how eccentric Alice’s house was, she was going to have a shower, and there’s little involvement of the current condition of the door towards that.

She gently opened the door.

Inside was everything a bathroom ought to have, a porcelain-white bathtub, an oddly expensive looking western toilet, a sink with a mirror, a shower head with the little curtain things separating it from the rest of the room. The room was clean, the tiling polished well and patterned to fit a chessboard-esque style, the colors alternating between each tile, stretching from the floor to the walls.

At the moment it was lit through a window, positioned at the high end opposite of the shower, moonlight barely streaming in. But of course, that isn’t enough light to actually do things with, and positioned above the window, on the ceiling was a lightbulb, and the corresponding light switch was right beside her, on the other side of the door.

After taking off her shoes and leaving them beside the door, she entered, stepping onto the cold stone floor. As she did, she flicked the switch, lighting up the place with an orangish tint, covering everything in the hue. It was kinda like having a giant candle, the color everywhere, on the whites and blacks, shading it and coating it to a relative orange. It… felt warm.

And… the whole bathroom atmosphere around her, the sight and scent of soap bars and shampoo bottles, the quaint silence, it all reminded her of the entire process of cleaning herself up, and that she didn’t have anything to change into.

…

Well, she could just wash her clothes here as well, not like she could get back home for an extra set.

But before cleaning herself up, she had to do… the everything before that. Close the door behind her, rinse her teeth with a heavy stream of water from her hakkero, set up the bath with warm water, find a dry place where she could set her hakkero down, use the toilet a bit as well while she was at it…

Normal bathroom stuff, basically.

Then after that was the bath, taking off her hakkero and placing it on the ledge of the sink, perfectly safe from getting unnecessarily soaped up.

And, as she was going to clean her clothes as well after this, might as well have some fun and try getting into the bath with all of them on. If the soap’s good enough for her body, it’s probably also good enough for her clothes… right?

Sure, there might be some lint or something that’ll get into the drain… but it’ll all go down anyways if she washed her clothes here, it’s all fine.

So, in line with this thinking, she approached the bathtub, standing right in front of it. It sat there, flush with slightly steamy water, with a bit of heat radiating off of it and a few bubbles on the edge floating around. 

Placing a hand in it to check for temperature, she dipped it slowly in… and it felt about right, not too hot, not too cold, perfectly warm for what she wanted it to do.

Marisa lifted one of her legs up and placed it in, then came the other, letting the splashes of water leak onto her dress, soaking into it. It felt largely the same as getting into a regular bath, if a little heavier thanks to the liquid now in her clothes. And it was comfortable enough to just let herself dip into the water below, sinking slowly until she sat on the tub’s floor, leaving her head and hat the only ones above water.

Alice was pretty lucky to be able to have an entire bathtub in her house… it’s been ages since she’s last been in one. There weren’t many places with bathtubs that she could borrow from, and they tend to be on the heavier side of things that she’d like to have. It’s pretty difficult to carry an entire tub on a broomstick, and even more so if she wanted one in one piece.

And Alice even had all the fancy soaps and shampoos that the upper class used back in the village, she even recognized a few of the brands…

Did she buy from the village directly?

Or maybe it’s Shinki’s work, sending over cleaning products for Alice to use. They were pretty overprotective of them at times, and this was perhaps one of the few privileges of being a princess of Makai.

But, it’s not like Marisa could complain about it, it was good soap for cleaning and… she was in need of a bath.

She grabbed one of the bottles and poured out a few drops into the tub, letting the soap bubble and grow within the area, forming little patches and spots of cleanliness.

With a hand, she lathered these over her clothes… to a limited efficiency. It wasn’t very practical to do so, but it was pretty fun, trying to see how far she could go without taking them off, cleaning little bits here and there. Though, eventually, she did remove all of them so she could actually clean herself up, letting them float to one side of the bathtub as she did her thing on the other.

It was surprisingly spacious here, and, if she were to approximate, it’d be around the size of two Alice’s packed side by side. And… admittedly, that was pretty big. If she tried, she could probably even float in the water with enough effort. Though, she wasn’t a big fan of bumping her head into the edges, so she didn’t even try to attempt that.

And so, there she was, in the tub, beside her was a floating pile of her clothes, and around her were fortresses of bubble pillars and columns. It was kinda relaxing, in a way, watching them drift aimlessly in the tub, before she paddled a wave or two in their direction and made them bounce around at the edges like little ships diverting away from shore.

A bit childish, sure, but she liked her fun, and she got to be clean while she was at it, so no harm, no foul. Nothing was even watching her here, it was just herself enjoying the company of soap and water, with perhaps a bit of scrubbing whenever she remembered she was there to clean herself…

Marisa did have to be somewhat quick, though, she still had the storybook and sleeping together with Alice things going on, and she couldn’t waste too much time in the bathroom.

And after a few minutes of just playing around, when her internal clock rung… and when she started to get a bit bored of the whole playing with soap thing, she quickly applied some shampoo to her hair, set her clothes out by the edge of the tub, and began to thoroughly cleanse herself, rubbing and lathering soap wherever she saw fit.

Then, she drained the tub and filled it with a new bath of water to rinse, repeating until she was completely free of soap.

After that, she was already out of the tub and was drying everything with the hakkero, letting it blow a gust of hot air towards her stuff and herself like a giant fan of sorts for a minute or two, before turning it off and putting her clothes back on-

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

Three rhythmic thumps hit the door, familiar in both tone and pattern, then, a voice called out.

“Marisa?” the voice questioned, in an almost… sugary manner. It was strange to ascribe a taste to the way something sounds, but that was how it felt to her for some reason… that’s how her voice felt to her.

“Alice?” she then replied, a bit confused in her own manner. Why would Alice visit her here? Did she clog up the pipes or something-

“I brought you a change of clothes, some pajamas and underwear.” Alice said, interrupting Marisa’s train of thought. But… it was relieving that she hadn’t inadvertently done anything wrong. “I wasn’t able to get some from your house, but I have some old clothes lying around that might fit you.”

“That’s nice.”

“Do you want me to hand it to you… or just leave it by the door or something?”

“Just… uhh… hand it to me.”

“Alright.”

Marisa walked over to the door, and opened it slightly, standing by the handle, letting in a hand with a fresh set of clothes. She grabbed them quickly, prompting the hand to move away and back out of the door as she pushed and closed it. The garments were made of cotton, dyed in a subtle hue of light blue, with a simple pattern of various stars and lines, forming a sort of grid across the fabric.

She put the clothes on, sliding it over herself, buttoning up the pajamas, and they felt… used. Like not in a bad way though, it was like all the normal rough edges and stiffness of the cloth had faltered, leaving behind a smooth and relatively non-abrasive surface that was kinda comfy.

It was Alice’s old clothes… but they were fresh, they felt clean, perhaps even cared for, judging by a few faint stitches on what she could only assume were tears in the fabric. And she liked the design, star pajamas, while kinda unoriginal, is still good taste.

She walked around a bit in it, trying out the outfit, and… maybe imagining a smaller Alice perhaps doing the same thing at some point in time, with a bit of talking to her doll friends as she rambled on about her day or something. It was cute in her imagination, someone a bit less mature than the Alice she knows now, with the same general pattern, only smaller and maybe more adorable?

Much like herself, Alice was always adorable though, so, it’s hard to tell if their adorable levels really do change if they were younger.

Anyways, after folding up her bath-washed set of clothes, and putting on her iconic witch hat, Marisa finished up her stay in the bathroom, and finally exited.

Upon stepping outside, Marisa saw Alice, standing with a neutral expression on their face. Well, it wasn’t really neutral, there was a slight upwards tilt, but that could just be their standard expression of somesort. But, that didn’t really catch her attention at first, what stood out was that they dressed differently from normal, wearing a pink nightgown with long sleeves stretching from their shoulder to their wrist. There were little frills, even a thin lining of lace on some of the cuffs, with a bit of white embroidery sewn on to add a bit of flair, small crests and dots placed around the seams.

Those weren’t all however, there was something else significantly different about them, looking at their head, at the blonde locks of hair carefully combed and cared for by the puppeteer, there was… nothing. It was lacking any sort of decoration or accessory, just the bare strands of soft bright yellow. It was Alice without her headband!

The appearance was a bit unusual for Alice, but… it didn’t look bad. While simple, it had a sort of charm to it, like a… casual? No… it… it had something different from just being causal, it’s more fluffy, more comfy, or at least something like that. There wasn’t an exact word she could name to describe it, a mix between the softness and elegance while still being rather pretty.

She liked it…

Well, she liked Alice’s appearance in general. Alice looked nice, almost like one of those expensive dolls you’d find on display in a store’s window. They were cute, with a soft, almost illusory feel to their presence, skin as pale and smooth as porcelain, eyes as delicate as blue stained glass, and frame, while tall, looked vulnerable. It almost felt like they would break, that the porcelain would shatter and crumble, if she pushed it around too much. She knew Alice was far stronger than that. She knew Alice was, by all regards, more physically resilient than Marisa. But the Alice in front of her, the appearance, the sensations and inputs going into her brain — it felt like it could fade at any moment, that its construction was merely the sketching of some artist, or the fictions of her own mind.

They were surreal, it felt surreal, like the moment a mere daydream of hers. It was almost fantastical, a bout of fickle whimsy, she didn’t really know at this point, she could barely tell the difference between fantasy and reality even if she wanted to. If she stared at Alice enough, she’d almost mistake her for a painting, the edges and shadows, the perspective, while there, seemed to simply blend in with their surroundings.

Maybe she really needed to go to sleep early today…

In some form of curiosity, Marisa approached Alice. And, with a slight shaky motion, touched their hand, gliding against it as she motioned to grasp.

It was soft, the skin smooth and having a tender feeling, a sort of sense of reality that brought her — that brought Alice into her view. With every moment… they felt more real, more present, still as strangely cute and stunning as before, just more in line with what Marisa expected from reality.

…

She grabbed onto it, onto Alice, her hand, her feeling, her sensations, and placed it into her palm, wrapping her own hand around theirs. And it’s… odd. Not the action of grabbing their hand, but how she felt during it. That grounding into reality, the kinda embarrassing feeling rising from her chest… she could feel her own face warm with a bit of blush to it, perhaps reddening as well.

Alice didn’t seem to do anything about it, though, merely staring at her, glassy blue eyes merely glimmering in a bit of curiosity, wondering why she was doing what she was. And they seemed to be embarrassed too, their face gaining a bit of colored blush around their cheeks, a light scarlet tint, confused at the situation…

But Marisa didn’t really know either, she was just doing what her curiosity told her to. What to her instincts, felt right.

Though, what was she going to do next-

“...Marisa? You alright?” Alice questioned, perhaps with a bit more concern than Marisa ought to deserve.

“Uhm… yeah. I’m alright.” she replied.

She knew that she was acting in an odd manner, that she shouldn’t be randomly questioning the existence of her friend, who was now quite clearly standing beside her. 

But, there was no harm in what she was doing at the moment, just holding their hand… 

She was perfectly fine by her own standards.

“Then, let’s go to the bedroom.” they said, pulling Marisa a bit forward as they did. She followed along.

“Ok.” she answered, nodding her head as the two of them began to walk.

They went, hand in hand, down the hallway, not talking much as they did, preferring to stay quiet under the circumstances they were in. Marisa was alright with that, there was nothing wrong with holding each other’s hands, was there?

She could feel the gentle grasp of Alice’s pull, not too forceful, yet not entirely weak, being firm but tender, something she could rely upon…

It was nice. She liked it. Though, it still did feel embarrassing, a bit childish, even, to be walking around, side by side, guided along by their little tugs, marching in a sort of off-beat thanks to their difference in heights. She could feel her face flare up from time to time, wherever Alice decided to look back at her, check on her a bit, the concern in their face, the attention to detail, the smile they flashed whenever they saw that everything was alright.

It was strange, confusing, confounding in all sorts of ways, but… she liked it — the silence, the emotions, the feelings, all that was felt and all that wasn’t. She was happy to enjoy the things she felt, the hand she could grasp, the ruminating thoughts she had about whatever Alice was going to read once they arrived. 

Maybe it’s a picture book, to keep in theme with the childish tone of their initial proposal? Or, perhaps it’s a grimoire, and they’re just gonna read a few things that Alice hasn't opened from her personal library? It might be fun, looking at different spells, analyzing the runes and symbols used to cast them, and playing around with it a bit.

Though, it might be a novel from the outside world, detailing the experience of whatever in the world’s going on out there, the life, the culture, the cities and places. Alice always liked seeing that sort of stuff, and it’s pretty interesting to see the stories that the people there come up with.

Marisa couldn’t exactly predict Alice when it came to things like these. There were a lot of different things that they liked, and Marisa didn’t have that well of an understanding on how Alice chose between their preferences. Maybe it was chance, or maybe it was an analytical assessment of the situation, who knows?

She certainly didn’t, and it’s perhaps pointless to even ask…

But wondering about Alice, whatever the topic or subject matter, was always enjoyable in at least some aspect. Alice was kinda special in that regard, having a sort of status within her mind that makes the subject ever the more interesting. Like… there’s a little box in her brain labeled ‘Alice things’ and the stuff in it just have an extra sparkle of depth, of fascination to them. The thoughts, the imaginations and the concepts, they… made her happy, made her lips smile with an odd joy, accentuating the beat of heart and the warm embarrassment it made her feel.

That was Alice, the person she ended up being cared for by, the hand in her hand, the tug pulling her forward, the silhouette of blonde hair and general cuteness that she was beside, that she’d want to stay with—

…

What… is she even thinking about. She liked Alice, sure… 

Alice was her friend, perhaps even one of her closer ones, one that cared about her, and one that she cared about. And… she… liked them. They were interesting, unique in almost every aspect, with a particular set of peculiarities that she found endearing in one way or another, the caring personality, the stubbornness, the obsessions, the feeling of her being right there, by her side.

The blonde hair, the pretty dresses, the blue-eyed stare of either curiosity or worry, of quick wit and the most esoteric of interests… The warm hand that was holding onto hers, the feeling of embarrassment she had, beating in her heart, reddening in her face, the mesmerizing concept of… Alice. Alice Margatroid.

Alice…

She… liked Alice. Not ‘like’ as in how she liked to zoom around on her broom, or play pranks on more than a few of her acquaintances, but ‘like’ as in… how she liked Magic. How she’d thought about it in the passing moments, as they walked through one hallway after another, going up the staircases in a peaceful quiet, the sort of… something that was there, the allure of it, the distinct fascination.

Marisa couldn’t put it into words, there was something special, something she didn’t have the exact phrase to say or the courage to make one up. It was something else, something she didn’t really know all too much about.

But, then, a little part of her brain, a cluster of neurons somewhere in there, had an idea, a hint of resemblance, pattern recognition on what is perhaps a delusional level.

This part of her, a little whisper of thoughts came to her mind, and said that she…

…

She was in love with Alice.

…

…

…

No…

She couldn’t be.

She couldn’t be…!

That’s a bit too far, even for her. She didn’t, wouldn’t, shouldn’t, couldn’t, fall in love with Alice. Alice was her friend, nothing… more… or… or…

maybe…

…

…

…

Eventually, they arrived at the door to Alice’s bedroom, in relatively the same style as every other door in this house, relatively clean and uncluttered, the grain painted over with a protective layer of varnish, with the only difference being a simple but neat bed sketched onto the front… which was kinda cute.

Alice opened the door, gently turning the knob a few degrees as she pushed it open, revealing the room inside, the blue-blankets of the bed, the white lace covers of the pillows, the various wooden shelves filled to the brim with books of different colors, the cabinets that lined the walls and the little work table with a bunch of dolls in progress and grimoires sitting upon it. It was tidy, the entire area devoid of any speck of dust, shimmering in an odd reflective sheen, mirroring the light from the sole incandescent lamp that sat on the table.

As they approached the bed, a few dolls joined them inside, carrying a moderately sized book, about the same dimensions as one of the pillows, only with a quarter of the thickness. It had an odd design, a bright blue base with gold edging inscribed around the margins, lacking a title or any significant marks that’d distinguish it from any other book. Alice didn’t seem to mind that however, quickly grabbing it before pulling Marisa to the bed and seating the two of them on its edge.

Then, Alice placed the book in between them, sliding a bit towards her to minimize the gap that was in the middle. She could feel their shoulders graze against each other, as Alice adjusted their positions, arms moving everything ever so slightly in one way or another, with a fireplace sorta feeling to it.

But even with that unique situation, Marisa was now a bit more curious than before, with a mysterious book lacking any title at all being Alice’s pick. And so, she asked about it.

“A-Are you going to give me any hints on what this book’s gonna be about?”

“You’ll think it’s clever at least, but I haven’t really read too far into it yet, only the first page.” Alice replied, as she seemed to trace something along the book's cover. “Might be a good read, might not be, and I’m looking forward to working on it with you.”

“...working on reading?” Marisa asked, a bit confused. “Like you need help reading difficult words that aren’t really in the dictionary? Magical terms only included in some encyclopedias?”

“Well, you’ll get it once I have this thing open… I just need to find the switch…”

Click.

“There we go!” Alice said, in a bit of a louder manner than usual. And as she did… the book lit up, glowing by its golden margin, the border radiating as the cover started to bend itself open, and the title page got exposed.

Written on the page, in a golden ink of some sort, was the title of the book: 

<— Ingenuitas et Magicae —>

And nothing else. No author, no publisher, just the title and a few fancy lines making the border around it.

A rather unique title page, written in a strange way as well. There was a lot of magic though, she could see the energy leaking off the entire page, but no visible symbols or circles to indicate magic, or ones that were well-concealed.

Maybe the next page is where the book starts?

Marisa placed a finger on one of the edges, trying to lift the front page off, peeling at it slightly… yet nothing happened, the book stayed rigid and stiff, with no movement whatsoever.

“Well… that’s something.”

“The book’s about solving puzzles, and this is the first, a relatively easy one, I might add. You just have to read beyond the words to get to the next page.”

“Ingenuitas et Magicae… Ingenious Magic?”

“You’re not too far off, it’s Ingenuity and Magic.”

“That’s the title of the book?”

“...yeah?”

That doesn’t really help her though, that didn’t tell her anything on how to solve the puzzle. And there was nothing else there… no clues or hints, only a few fancy symbols of decoration, one left arrow and one right arrow…

This might be a stupid idea… but what if she pressed one of the arrows? They’re like a symbol for direction, so maybe it’ll make the book move or something.

So, she placed a finger on the right arrow.

…

Nothing happened.

Well, that was a good try—

And the page turned, fluttering over to the side as it revealed the next two pages. On them were a set of illustrations, with watercolor stains on the parchment and brush strokes making everything up. A small library with shelves spanning across the entire page, some even obscured by those in front, with a little set of librarians moving around, sorting books and placing them into the proper locations. Along with them was a bit of text at the bottom: 

Find the book you want to read.

“That’s interesting… So I just press on the right book on the shelves for this one, then?” she asked, already tapping on the shelves, pressing on all the blue-ish colors.

“The puzzle is a bit more complicated than that, just… watch this.” Alice said, before placing a finger in the hallway between the shelves, and dragging it downwards.

The entire page started shifting, the books and shelves at the bottom vanishing from view as… more bookshelves appeared from the top, along with different librarians. It was like moving a sort of camera from above, changing the perspective. And the magic behind it had to be pretty neat as well, storing the full library somewhere and shifting the page around with it, and the spells for the different librarians had to be hard to make as well…

“Now that’s pretty cool… but that means there’s an entire library to explore, not just one page.”

“Not exactly, you don’t do the same to a real library, do you?”

“...There’s usually sections and stuff, but how can we find those in this one?”

“That’s part of the challenge… though I haven’t really found anything yet. I only had enough time to figure out opening the book and getting past the title since I got this book.”

“So… do you want to do this together?” she asked, leaning a little closer to Alice…

“Isn’t that the whole point of having you here?” Alice replied, perhaps with a little giggle to her voice.

“I guess so, then, let’s get started!”

They began to look around the library, scrolling through and experimenting with pressing different things, figuring out what exactly they were meant to do… And, with a bit of testing, and talking about a few ideas between each other, they were able to find the book, after finding the right librarian to guide them to it.

That’s how the rest of the book went, bouts of thinking and learning, and a bit of head bashing from frustration, solving the little puzzles the author put into it until they exhausted themselves somewhere halfway through the thing, yawning and eyes starting to force themselves closed.

“Haaaaa~aaaaah… I think it’s time for us to go to bed.” Alice said, stretching her arms into the air, as she ordered a few dolls to their side.

“We’re not yet done, though…” she responded, tightening her grip on her side of the book.

“We can do it tomorrow. I’m tired.” Alice replied, tearing the book away and giving it to the dolls. “Besides, weren’t you the one that wanted to sleep with me?”

…

She almost forgot about that.

She- She was going to sleep with Alice. Alice! The Alice in front of her, the blonde-headed nightgown-wearing girl that was right next to her, sitting with a curious expression on their face. She was going to lay down right beside that face for the night, in this room… with Alice. With Alice.

There was a part of her that was happy about that, smiling and grinning with the vague notion that they’ll be closer or something over the night. Pure and livid fantasy, from a childish, perhaps optimistic part of her. All the while a larger, more representative part of her was… panicking internally. She was not mentally ready for this…

A blush formed on her face — she could feel the visceral warmth, the natural reaction of her body’s emotional state. It… it wasn’t a big deal… It was normal for people to sleep next to each other. Perfectly normal. Her heart still beated a bit faster than before, knocking on her ribcage, having a minor palpitation whenever she thought about her situation a bit more.

She and Alice were going to be lying down, on this bed, for the next six to eight hours. Maybe even more if she couldn’t fall asleep on time. Can she even fall asleep like this? Did she look right? Was this proper sleeping attire? Ah- She still had her hat on, she should take it off… Place it on the little table by the bed… but can she put things there? Was Alice being serious? She liked Alice, sure… but to sleep in the same bed, right next to each other? That’s too far…

She can’t back down though, she was the one that accepted this–

“M… Marisa? Are you embarrassed or something?” Alice asked, smiling with a blush of her own on their face. “Do you need help with anything or…?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine. Just needed to think a bit.” she answered, as she placed her hat beside her clothes on the nearby end table. Just take it calmly and ignore the internal screaming. It’s fine. Everything is fine. “Let’s… uhm… go to bed?”

“Sure…” Alice sleepily replied, as she slid herself into the blanket of the bed, crawling on over in a surprisingly ungraceful manner. It was cute in a strange way, the utter dissonance between normal Alice and this… sleep-deprived version of Alice. She had never seen Alice like that before, lacking their signature elegance and regality so much in their clothes and their mannerisms. Perhaps… no one else ever saw them like that either.

They were probably quite sleepy though, so did it really count? If Alice was more conscious, she’d probably crawl a bit more elegantly, or not crawl at all? Bedtime is such a strange period to think about these things. She was getting a bit tired as well, but… how could she sleep like this?

Even if she calmed herself down, the thought of sleeping beside Alice…

It was embarrassing. Not rationally embarrassing, there was no reason for her to be embarrassed, they were just two girls sleeping in the same bed. Nothing wrong with that. Perfectly normal and regular behavior. It’s just her heart, her mind, they couldn’t stop thinking about it. Alice was just sleeping there, so casually, blonde hair meshing with the lace pillow below, their face partially obscure and eyes already closed, with a bit of red across their face— It was a bit too cute to sleep beside safely for Marisa’s taste.

Was this what she was going to see in the morning? 

Once she wakes up? 

It’d be like they’re… a… married couple…

…

…

…

She should really stop having strange thoughts.

She wasn’t raised as a coward. She chose this, and she’ll follow through, to whatever consequence. She was Marisa Kirisame, and sleeping beside her is probably not going to kill her. And if it does, well, that’s for future Marisa to deal with, hopefully Eiki would have some sympathy about her circumstances…

Marisa took in a deep breath, then exhaled. Letting her nerves calm a bit.

Steeling herself, she lifted up her borrowed corner of the blanket and got in underneath, letting the soft fabric cover up over her, warming her up a bit. Then, she rested her head on her pillow, sinking her skull into the layers of cotton, facing straight up to avoid seeing Alice beside her.

But even if she couldn’t see Alice, she could still feel her presence, the gentle breaths piercing through the awkward silence, the subtle warmth of body mass beside her, the sheer feeling of Alice just being there, beside her. 

It made her happy, it made her nervous, it made her feel so many odd things. And… yet she felt a bit safe, a bit more comfortable despite being placed in such a situation. Alice wouldn’t really mind her unless she does something really stupid. It felt nice to be here anyways, so… why not enjoy it?

…

Another deep breath, and she turns her head, taking a glance at Alice.

…

It was so close.

She could see their face right up to hers, eyes lightly shut, with a neutral expression gently exposed to her. And she could see other things too, their long eyelashes, the individual strands, the subtle sheen they had on their lips… And she could feel a few soft stray strands of blonde hair brush against her face, as she further leaned her cheek onto the pillow.

They were so pretty…

It almost made her heart skip a beat. Almost. It’s physically impossible for her heart to skip any more beats at this point with the rate it was going at, pounding and knocking out of a tension and anxiety that she might wake Alice up.

Yet, it cooled, slowed. The sight of Alice… seeing them, made her relax, made her… smile, calmed her down. Alice looked so peaceful, that it was hard to panic when they were just gracefully present…

Maybe— No. That was a question to be dealt with tomorrow. For now… she’s content with where she was. And perhaps… it’s best she fell asleep as well…

She was… feeling... a bit sleepy…

…

…

Chapter Text

Yellow.

Bright, iridescent yellow.

Covering her vision, spanning from one edge to another. It was divided into little bands, strips of shades woven together, running down like a little waterfall. Crammed right into her face, the threads interlocking and weaving into the many tangles. It reminded her of something. In her drunk-like state, the pattern recognition neurons in Marisa’s brain were firing, telling her that it was familiar – that it felt familiar.

What was it?

Something yellow, something made up of lines, tangled and woven like a cloth… Was it a blanket? What color was the blanket she used last night? Red? Blue? Green? But a blanket doesn’t splinter apart like this, and she could feel where it was, wrapped around her chest, one arm over it and the rest of her body under it.

And it couldn’t be her hair, too bright, too shimmery for her duller tone to match.

She was lying on her side anyways, her hair should be at her back. She could feel her weight forced upon her right arm. It felt numb, circulation partially cut and having that weird… tingly? Spiky? That strange feeling where not moving it doesn’t hurt but moving it does?

Regardless, what was she looking at?

Maybe her memory has something… what did she do last night?

She was solving puzzles, reading books, getting ready for bed, and hanging out with Alice. The normal stuff, really. So why would there be something yellow in front of her?

Marisa didn’t own anything too yellow in her house. Not anything that… smells this nice.

Kinda like the shampoo she used last night, the fancy one that Alice must’ve bought back at the village—

Wait…

She was staying at Alice’s.

She was wearing Alice’s old pajamas.

She was sleeping in Alice’s bed. 

This was Alice’s hair.

Her face was in their hair, for the past however minutes or so. Did Alice know? Were they awake?

Well, if Alice was awake, they’d definitely do something about… this, maybe inch away a bit, scoot over to the side, push her to lying on her back.

Then, it was her responsibility to get out of this situation.

She moved over, twisting her upper body so she’d fall flat on her back, lying straight and looking up at the ceiling. To her left, away from Alice, was the window, sunlight beaming inside, cutting past the curtains, lighting up the room with its sheer brightness.

It… was Alice’s room, the same furniture, the same Alice, the same… everything she saw the night before. The electric lamp by the bedside table, the incandescent bulb that hung from the ceiling. She was in Alice’s home.

Oddly enough, it felt nice, it felt warm. The blankets soft and a bit heavy, the mattress underneath her bending and cushioning her back. It was so comfortable. Much like her own bed, of course. It felt like she was at her own home, the atmosphere, the slightly cluttered belongings, the books on shelves. The only difference was the scent, it… smelled like Alice. Like fresh dye and newly cut cloth, a bit… sweet, in a way.

Marisa didn’t know how it was sweet, scents didn’t have tastes. It just felt that way.

How strange…

She had no time to investigate, however. The day was fresh, and she didn’t want to waste it… just being in this nice and comfortable and… Alice-laiden bed, did she…?

…

It kinda sounded tempting.

Just a few more minutes of being beside Alice. Enjoying their presence, their being, watching them as they gently slept beside her. She could peek over to the other side, where their face was. There was a small smile, soft lips bent into a subtle curve. They looked lovely in their sleep, so peaceful, so quiet, eyes lightly shut under the sunlight.

She could hear their breaths, the soft little bursts of air that blew past onto the pillow, kicking up dust, making a bit of ambience.

She’d love to stay, to watch and enjoy their presence, listening and watching whatever happened. But, then again, Alice deserved some privacy while she was sleeping. And it’s not always that she got free reign to go around Alice’s house without breaking and entering. She wouldn’t be borrowing anything this time though, she was just gonna explore and look around, the normal thing you’d do while invited to a friend’s house.

Carefully, Marisa got out of bed, sliding herself gently under the blanket, making sure not to make a single sound to disturb Alice in their slumber. Then, she stood right beside the bed, looking over Alice, and the… impression of her arm that she made into the bed. Hopefully that isn’t permanent.

Marisa quickly left the room, making brisk little steps to the door before she could accidentally wake them up.

Now outside, she looked around, now standing in the main upstairs hallway, surrounded by all sorts of rooms she’s never been in before.

Choosing one at random, she entered, turning the metal handle and pushing open the wooden door.

Inside the room were dolls of all varieties. There were the Shanghai dolls with their big red ribbons and casual blue dresses, lying on their shelves in little beds, with rows upon rows of dresses and miniature tools to help around the house. Then were the Hourai dolls, those with the same general pattern but with darker dresses and stronger magic, standing guard, pointing their spears towards her–

One of them started moving, approaching her with a sort of magical sparkle to their movements. With a spear aimed somewhere roughly in her general direction.

…

That’s probably not good.

“Uhhh… do you guys need anything?” she said, gradually backing away from the doll.

Was this what Alice was working on, semi-automation?

It was interesting, there didn’t seem to be any general command to attack her, yet a singular doll moved on their own. The original command had to be pretty specific for it to do this, perhaps there was some decision making in there as well…

“Hourai!” they said, shouting and waving their spear in the air. “Hourai, Hourai Hourai… Houra~i!!! Hourai Hourai.”

…

“I… see. I’ll just see myself out then, if you wouldn’t mind.” she said to the doll, before leaving through the door behind her and closing it shut as she left.

That… was something.

Well then, onto the next room!

She chose at random again, and opened a different door, this time, the one at the end of the hallway. And immediately, upon leaving open a crack in the door, she could feel the scent of old parchment, the thick leathery atmosphere that came with any respectable library. The books stretched onto multiple levels, shelves on shelves, with a ladder to help get them. 

There were dolls here, too, this time an assortment of French and Orleans dolls, sorting books, maintaining the spells and charms that kept everything in place. Marisa could spot a few beds in some corners of the room, filled to the brim with various magical reservoirs for charging up the dolls whenever they got low on power.

This time, though, none of the dolls seemed particularly on edge, merely staring at her for a few moments, before moving out of the way. They seemed far more focused on their little tasks, writing documents and making copies of various grimoires than on her.

Which was just pretty nice, maybe she could help herself to some morning reading!

Perhaps some books on recursive spells, or basic algorithms would be good for her project, though, where exactly would she get that from here? It would take perhaps a half-hour or so of her time to decipher the sorting system, perhaps another to get the books she was looking for…

But… there were a few librarians around, and even if she didn’t know anything about this library… maybe they did.

It wouldn’t hurt to just ask the dolls about it, would it?

She went up to an Orleans doll, one clad in its full metal armor, shining gleefully as it went about the library, and she asked them.

“Hey… uhh… Orleans?” she said, tapping a bit on their little metal helmet to get their attention.

They turned around, facing her with bright yellow glassy eyes, and seemed a bit confused. 

“Or-le-ans? Orleans.” they replied in the pseudolanguage that Alice made for them, as they passed on their book to a nearby French doll.

“Yes, you, Orleans. Do you know where the books on recursive spells are?”

“Orlea~~~ans… Orlea~~~~ns… Orlean!” they said, as if pondering over it. Then, with their little hands, they dragged Marisa along. “Orleans, Orlean Orlean.”

She followed, of course, excited to run amok between the shelves, dodging carts and moving past the dolls that ran the place. The doll seemed to ask other dolls about it as well, going “Orlean, Orleans.” and looking for the right affirmation. It was strange to see the dolls just… act like that, while Alice was perfectly asleep. Semi-automation must be pretty powerful… more useful than she thought at first, anyways.

They looked fully functional and capable of thinking for themselves. It was… amazing.

Wood and magic, with a bit of paint… seeming almost alive. Moving in little motions, hands and clothes swaying as they stepped along the pathways. They made reactions, little avoidances and curiosities along the way, different expressions, different noises of both frustration and relief. As if… they felt things.

Alice must’ve been working pretty hard on this stuff…

In a bit of time, and a bit of effort, she was led around to the right section. Or, the Orleans doll seemed to think so, letting go of her hand and saluting her with an “Orlean!” before wandering back to whatever they were doing before.

Scanning the spines of the shelves around her, Marisa took her time, not wanting to miss the book they were looking for. The titles were mostly generic texts on chaining spells together, basic instructional materials for the lesser grade magicians. Textbooks on multiple summonings, the basics of multicasting, the right circles to draw, the spell compatibility charts. Things that she already knew about, basically.

But there had to be something here, more complex, on the scale that she was looking for…

Ah! Maybe this one fits the bill…

“Theoretical Limits on Recursive Magic.”

There was no author, though.

Well, not like that made the book any less trustworthy. She never knew that many authors anyways, and there’s always something that’s at least somewhat useful in these. It just made the whole thing a bit more mysterious, in her eyes.

Finding a little corner of the library to make herself at home for a few hours, she sits down and opens the book to read.

Page by page, each theorem, one after the other. As with any grimoire, she went along with the diagrams, the instructions, the basic theory, making the appropriate magic circles and spells to go along with that.

Chaining one spell, then another, then adding conditions to preserve mana use, steady progress into charted territory. A light review before the more serious stuff…

…

…

…

An hour or so passes, and she finishes up the book. Reading its final pages and remarks by the author and the research notes and addendums they usually place at the end.  And now, though well-informed on her plans for the next few days, she was hungry. Placing the book back into the shelf where she got it, Marisa headed for the kitchen.

It wasn’t too far of a walk away, just a few steps down the stairwell, and passing through a simple hallway. Then… she was there, between the electric fridge, the metal gas stoves, and the many shelves and cabinets of the kitchen.

Alice wasn’t up yet it seems, no signs of breakfast or dishes made yet. The kitchen was empty, plates and utensils neatly in the disk rack, the fresh fruits were left to ripen in a basket by the windowsill, and the vast assortment of spices and condiments were left on their shelves.

She’ll have to cook for herself, then. It should be something simple, something easy, with a bit of rice too. And, she should leave a bit of food for Alice as well, it was their house after all. Plus after that, she could like… deliver it to their bedside on a little tray or something as a morning present! They’ve been doing quite a lot for her recently, and it’s about time she started paying them back. 

They’d probably enjoy that, maybe even smile… lips curled upwards, shining in a subtle pink…

It’s always nice when Alice smiles, isn’t it? They even smiled a bit in their sleep, which… was kinda cute. Alice is cute. Alice… the wonderful friend that she’s gotten. Helpful and kind, a bit foolish at times, caring about her… being with her. Alice saved her, Alice fed her, kept her entertained and gave her inspiration.

That was Alice. That lovely, lovely person she’s gotten to be with.

Alice!

Alice!!!

“Alice.” Marisa muttered out to herself. “Alice. Alice. Alice!”

She could say it out loud now, there was no one listening in, after all—

“Marisa?” said a voice, peeking in from the hallway above.

…

She took a look at that face, the blue little glassy eyes and the soft blonde hair, familiar in every aspect. Yet, it was a bit smaller than she last remembered, a bit more… miniature in size.

“Hello there, mini-Alice.” Marisa greeted, smiling, hoping that they didn’t interpret any of her previous actions in the… wrong way.

“Hello, Marisa!” they replied, flying down the stairwell and zooming towards her.

The doll blazed through the air, dress and hair fluttering in the breeze it made, before slowing to a gentle stop right on Marisa’s head, again.

“You really do like it up there.” she remarked, as the doll settled into her hair, almost nesting itself in.

“It’s soft! I like it.” they replied, not moving an inch from where they were.

…

So now she has an Alice stuck in her hair. 

Great. 

Well, it’s not like she really minded, though was Alice controlling mini-Alice as well? Or was it also semi-automated?

…

Might as well ask at this point.

“So… is Alice awake yet?” she asked. “And on that note, what are you even doing here?”

“Alice isn’t awake, the bed’s very nice for sleeping upstairs.” they answered. “I’m here on automatic orders to ‘prevent Marisa from burning down the house if she ever enters the kitchen’.”

“I see… so can I cook?”

“...Yep! Just don’t burn the house.”

“Okay.”

It was odd to move around with a few hundred grams of doll sitting on your head, but it was… nice. Kind of like having a hat filled with books on your head, with the added bonus of making little “oooh”s and “ahhh”s at whatever you were doing. Did Alice order the doll to do that too? To say these things if she ever woke up early?

Well, considering their meticulousness when it came to dolls and doll making, the answer was probably yes.

Anyways, onwards to cooking!

First, the rice, the base of any good meal that deserved to be eaten. Just needed to get a pot, a measuring cup, and a sack of rice. Which were all easy to find with the help of her little assistant from above, telling her “Left!” and “Right!” whenever she asked for something.

Taking the cup, she scoops up a bit of rice then pours it into the pot, repeating until she had a total of four cups in there. Then, she cleaned the rice, rinsing it in water a few times, before hand-straining the liquid out into the sink. The little white grains ebbed and flowed as she swirled the pot around in the sink, staying at the bottom of the pot as she sifted through. Floating on top was the chaff, the brown skin of the rice, which was promptly drained into the sink along with the rest of the inedible things that hung around in the rice. 

After that, she refilled the pot with water, placed the pot onto the stove, added the cover, and set the flame on low.

Next, the side dish.

What should she cook though?

Looking through the fridge… there were a lot of ingredients: eggs, vegetables, dairy, a few wines, and a few leftovers. Though, she didn’t really know how to properly cook anything aside from the eggs. Maybe she should practice cooking someday…

But, seeing that she only has one real option, might as well make the best scrambled eggs that she can!

Though that too, comes with complications, she has to decide what to use, how to season… but she’ll probably come up with something that tastes nice, right?

Cracking a few eggs into a bowl, Marisa sets off to scour the pantry for seasonings that she could use, a clove of garlic, a white onion, a bit of pepper and salt to go along with the two, and places them all on a chopping board she set up by the counter.

“Be careful!” shouted the girl sitting in her hair, watching as she held the knife in one hand, and an onion in another.

“I will, I will. I’m not a child, y’know.” she replied, already motioning for the first slice. “I know how to use a knife.”

“You’re holding the knife wrong.” they said, coming out of her hair and landing beside her hands on the counter. “You need to lever it from the furthest end to the closest to maximize mechanical advantage.”

…

“What?” she asked.

“Make the handle move, not the tip. You need less force that way.” the doll answered, drawing a diagram using a bit of magic. “It’s sort of like a lever, you’re gaining mechanical advantage by increasing distance from the fulcrum, giving you more force.”

“But wouldn’t the force be the same? I’m putting in the same amount of energy either way.” Marisa responded.

“You are, energy is constant, but the energy here is going to be expressed differently.”

“How so?”

“Work is a form of energy, it’s force times distance. And since energy is constant, we can assume work is as well. But in a lever, you have different distances for each point on it. Through geometry, the tip of the knife moves less than the handle. So, to make up for this, the force there increases.”

“I… see? I’m exchanging more distance at the handle for more force over there?”

“Yep! That’s how levers work, changing distance for force.”

“How did Alice even make you? There’s no way she taught you all that.”

“I was made with up to an intermediate understanding of most sciences, magics, and mathematics, in order to assist you. Though the specifics of how I was taught goes beyond my own understanding of dollmaking.”

“Well, ok then. Thanks for the science lesson, I guess.”

She placed the tip of the knife at the other side and pulled the handle downwards. 

A clean cut.

…

The doll, after that exchange, went back to residing in her hair, curiously watching her every action.

Alice never failed to surprise her.

Well, back to cooking, then.

Marisa chops off the ends, the skin, disposing of everything unneeded into a nearby trash bin. Then, she minces the larger ingredients, chopping them into little cubish pieces. There was a bit of scent now, the painful cries of the onion, watering her eyes and stinging it red. It wasn’t too bad, though, she’s dealt with far worse mushrooms than this.

She then got a large pan, drawing it out from one of the shelves in the cupboards and placing it on the stove. By eye, she poured a bit of oil into the pan, trying to get it to cover the entire surface.

Then, she turned on the stove with a push and a turn, and out came the blue flames of the gas burner, warming and heating the bottom of the pan. Now, she waited, mixing the eggs and the other ingredients all together in a whisking motion, wrist turning and agitating the mixture until it reached an adequate consistency. At the end, she was left with a thick, yellowish substance, filled with little cuboids of garlic and onions, sprinkled evenly with tiny flakes of black pepper, with the salt already well-dissolved into solution.

It was runny, yet a bit sticky, bits and pieces holding and clinging to the fork she used to whisk the eggs. Hopefully, it was delicious as well. Though, she never was all too good of a cook.

With a wooden spatula, she prodded the pan, checking to see if it was hot enough. Judging the bubbling at its end, it probably was. So, she poured in half the egg mixture and just… fried an egg. Shaking the pan to make sure it doesn’t stick, flipping over the egg with the wooden spatula, letting the yellow surface solidify under the heat. Then, once it looked done enough, she transferred it over to another plate and repeated the process.

…

Now, it was time to serve it.

She took a few cups of rice from the pot, put them on the plates, trying to arrange it in a palatable manner, prodding and poking with the spatula to get it to look right. Getting a tray with the help of mini-Alice, she placed everything on there, utensils, glasses of water, and added those little extending leg bits so they could eat in bed.

Eating together with Alice in bed. In bed!

It was strangely captivating to Marisa. The idea, the scene, playing out in her head, little tempting fragments of her own imagination manifesting themselves. A warm smile, a pair of blue eyes, and a sweet voice calling out to her. She wanted to see Alice, watch her eat, see her reactions, listen to her voice, just be there with her. The charming harmonies and lovely sights, the elegance, the cuteness, the adorability. Being the first thing Alice gets to see in the morning would be great!

She… she wanted Alice to think about her.

To look at her, as she looked at them.

She wanted to do so much for them, to be by their side, to hold their hand, to be… close. To stay close.

It was strange, strange for her to feel this way. A bit of blush on her face, a smile forming as she stepped up the steps of the stairwell. Rushing heart, rushing blood, wanting and desiring them, Alice, their presence, their being. Set alight, she could feel the palpitations, the longing, the desperation within her.

Alice had captured her mind, now a subject of her own fascinations. That gentle smile, bended lips under the subtle glow of incandescent light. The warmth, the care, the charming wits and stubbornness that Alice carried herself with, the magician’s rivalry they had with each other, control over flashiness and firepower. The stares that they shared, the laughs that they made. She wanted them, her heart wanted them.

It was like another magic of sorts. A pull, a tug, that focused her on Alice. She could feel her hand imagine her touch, the delicate, almost fragile thing, having a sort of sanctity now in her mind. 

She wanted that touch. She wanted to see, she wanted to feel, she wanted more than just her delusional fantasies.

She… wanted Alice.

Alice.

The girl, the magician, the friend. The blonde-haired, glassy eyed, doll-loving, stubborn companion that she had.

She…

…

She…

…

She loved Alice.

She loved Alice, Alice Margatroid. That puppeteer, that friend, the lovely smiles and gentle nature, the soft touches and charming words, the pull on her heart and the touch on her hands, the millions of different fascinations that they have, the elegance and the cuteness, the way they shined, the magic that they did. She wanted to be by their side, look at their face, hold their hands, do things with them and… just be there. Be a part of Alice’s life, repay them and do so much more beyond that. She wanted to sleep with them again, she wanted to eat with them again, she wanted to experience everything she experienced yesterday and more.

Alice— She loved Alice.

There was no point in denying that. No point in denying her own feelings, her own emotions. The beating of her heart, the redness of her face, the desires that she felt. She wanted to open the door in front of her and see them, look at them.

So she did.

Tray in one hand, and door handle in the other, she swung the door open. 

…

It was bright.

An intense shade of luminous color, the sunlight overwhelming her eyes within an instant. The room was covered in a brilliant yellowish hue, streaming in from the windows, the warm morning sun in all of its glory brandishing itself off. 

On the bed, under the warm sheets and resting on the soft pillows, was a gentle figure with a pair of beautiful eyes, and a wonderful smile on their face.

They were sitting up, back resting comfortably against the bed frame, hair shimmering in the light, curiously staring right at Marisa. She stared into them in turn, into the bands of their irises, the bits of swirling, the hint of mischievousness. How long were they awake? Was mini-Alice lying earlier-

“Good morning, Marisa.” they said, lips bent a bit further, expression a bit happier, voice striking yet calm, like a gentle massage on the ears.

And in response her heartbeat rose, once more. Thudding, moving, rushing itself into further agitation and excitement. She could feel it pounding on her ribs, resonating in her skull. Her every thought said the same thing, the same response, the same output of joy and anxiety.

It was Alice.

Their voice, their words, the flowery sweetness to their tone and almost dream-like allure, all present, all functional. Their being, their essence, the way they merely existed and infatuated Marisa – it was almost maddening. She saw them, and looked at their gentle figure on the bed. Their hands were placed neatly on their lap, dress a bit messy, hair a bit untidy, much unlike their usual elegance.

But they, to her eyes, were adorable. To the blind visions of her unsteady sight, the unkemptness only amplified their regular cuteness, the walls of elegance and reclusiveness fully torn and broken.

“Good morning, Alice.” she replied, before quickly placing the breakfast tray onto the bed, right on top of their lap. “I cooked us some breakfast.”

“Thanks…” Alice replied, organizing the utensils as they did. They were always so meticulous like that…

“You're welcome.” she responded, as she slid herself onto the bed, moving right beside the puppeteer.

The bed was exactly the same as it was earlier, same covers, same mattress, the people on it were exactly the same as well. Yet it felt so, so different. There was a bit more tension, a bit more emotion. The blood in her head, the thoughts rushing through her mind, asking, begging, wondering in curiosity. She could still feel the bed under her, the softness, the fabric, the way it folded against the borrowed pajamas that she wore. 

Those didn’t matter, however. The way she felt, the feelings that rushed through her head, all irrelevant, all no more than momentary considerations.

What mattered was… well, Alice.

Alice was there, right in front of her, a weapon with nearly lethal amounts of cuteness stored and packaged in the form of a person. Hair intruding itself onto their face, smile gently formed and made, carelessly present yet still so charming. She liked seeing Alice happy…

“Let’s eat?” Alice asked, spoon and fork already in hand, utensils barely grazing the food on their plate. 

“Alright!” she replied, grabbing her own set from the tray.

She couldn’t really focus on eating, though. Her food, as delicious as it may have been, was distracted from by her own watching of Alice, how they cut off little pieces of the egg with their spoon, how they blew a bit on the rice, just in case it was too hot. They were so delicate, so precise, every movement smooth and elegant, treating everything as fragile as glass.

Alice seemed to enjoy every bite, every taste, savoring it, taking her time to experience each bite, each spoonful of food that entered their mouth. Did they like the meal? Was it good? Marisa didn’t really know — and perhaps it didn’t really matter.

Alice probably would’ve been kind enough to enjoy it either way, regardless of how well or poorly whatever she made tasted. Sunlight glimmering through the golden strands of hair, a returned stare here or there, before Marisa forced herself to look away.

Marisa knew that she loved Alice, but that didn’t mean she’d expose herself so easily. There had to be a process to this, she had to win Alice over and everything, and she didn’t really know how to yet. Though, she’ll have to explain to Kosuzu why she’d be borrowing books on love for her research…

In the meantime, though… perhaps it's best for her to just eat with Alice, act a bit more like the usual. There was still plenty of time for her to sort this out.