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Today was the day Pipuru finally left his room and ventured down the street to check out the new venue he found online. Ever since one of their audience members ran off at the sight of Pip's kintsuba costume, he was determined that a change of venue was just what he needed. With as much time he spends on his PC, finding a new abandoned building only took him a few hours. The real challenge was working up the nerve to go out.
Now, two weeks later, Pipuru, Puru, and Zaku stood before an old theatre at the edge of town. It was covered with peeling, powder blue paint patched with various wooden boards. A hand-carved wooden sign with faded letters hung crooked on rusted hinges. The entire building creaked ominously as a strong breeze blew in from the empty field behind it.
“I don’t remember it looking like this online,” Pipuru said, nervously clasping his hands together.
“Maybe it rotted away with how long you took to leave home,” Zaku snapped. He flipped his long, fluffy black hair with a huff.
Puru sighed, shaking his head slightly. “It could still be worthwhile to go inside. Maybe the interior is still intact!”
Zaku sputtered, gawking at Puru. “Go inside?” He gestured wildly to the dark grey metal doors. “This place looks haunted! What do you mean ‘go inside?’”
“What do you think, Pipuru?” Puru asked, ignoring his twin.
They both expectantly looked at Pip standing between them. I came all the way out here, Pipuru thought. I might as well make the most of it.
Wordlessly, Pip stepped forward and pushed one of the doors. Its hinges groaned loudly, leaves skittering across the dusty red carpet as it opened. A curtain of darkness greeted the trio.
“Did you bring a flashlight?” Puru whispered.
“Why are you whispering?” Zaku said, squinting at him.
Puru shrugged as Pip turned on his phone flashlight. He walked inside, his footsteps muffled thumps. The twins quickly followed behind him. Puru reached for Zaku for comfort who smacked the former's hands away. He switched to holding onto Pip, almost burying himself in his bushy tail. Zaku followed closely behind them with crossed arms.
The trio continued down the corridor until there was a distant thud. They all stopped. Pipuru inhaled sharply, aiming his flashlight every which way. The light flickered against the cloudy glass of a ticket booth and the glossy frames of faded “now showing” posters. Puru’s hands dug further into Pip’s shoulders. There was another thud, closer this time.
Zaku sprang into action, whipping a fountain pen from his pocket. “Show yourself, you fiend!” He shakily held the pen in front of him. “I have a weapon!”
A third thud followed by a mechanical roar. They all screamed before the faint emergency lights flickered to life.
“I'm sorry. I was just trying to turn on the lights,” a small voice said behind them.
They all screamed again, the fourth voice joining them. Pip spun around, his eyes widening upon the sight. It was another boy about his age, knees knocking together wildly as he cowered behind his shaking hands. Small white wings sprouting from his ears tightly wrapped around his eyes.
“Oh,” Puru said, slowly peeking from behind Pip. “Hello there!”
The boy flinched at his words, but a pale blue eye soon peeked past one of his wings.
“We're not trying to hurt you.” He gave Zaku a side-eye.
“This could be a-- a ghost or something!” Zaku replied, keeping his pen at the ready. “Look at all those talismans!”
Yellowed talismans with words inked in red were pasted all down the boy’s arms and across his blue vest. He quickly crossed his arms in an attempt to cover them, now looking as if he were shivering from a chill.
Puru gulped. “Maybe he’s a friendly ghost?” He looked back to the boy. “Are you?”
He gave a curt shake of his head.
Zaku gasped. “An unfriendly ghost!”
The boy rapidly shook his head. “No!” he finally squeaked out.
“So you’re like us?” Puru asked.
He nodded.
Puru smiled in relief. Zaku slowly put his pen away, grumbling under his breath. Pip blinked, simply taking in the scene. Despite having never met this boy before, he felt strangely connected to him. Maybe it was because of how scared he seemed. Pipuru knew that feeling much too well.
“My name is Puru!” he said, pointing to himself. “That’s Zaku.”
Zaku huffed, tossing his hair.
“He’s still a little shaken up so he’s attempting to hide it behind being haughty,” Puru explained. “Don’t mind him!”
His eye twitched in response.
“This is Pipuru. He’s quiet like you are!” Puru said, grinning. “So, what’s your name?”
The boy unfurled, his wings falling from his eyes as his legs began to shake a little less. He shyly pointed to his leg where a nametag was clipped to his thigh high.
Puru squinted to read it before another warm smile overtook his face. “Nice to meet you, Bokiboo!”
Bokiboo flinched upon hearing his own name before he smiled nervously in return.
Pipuru felt a smile tugging at his lips as well.
“Well, what are you doing here?” Zaku said, frowning.
Bokiboo gasped before he steeled himself. “My job.” He cupped the jar hanging over his chest and three wispy ghosts materialized within it. “I hunt ghosts.”
“Woah, so cool…” Puru murmured, his eyes wide.
Zaku scoffed. “As if that’s cooler than me being the prince of--”
The scene abruptly shifted around Pip, everything blending like mixed paint. The sounds around him imploded into a deep, droning bass. Sharp trickles of dripping water echoed through the bass at irregular intervals. I never thought of what Zaku is a prince over, he thought. His body felt heavy as if all his blood was pooling on one side of his body. But that can’t be right. He was standing, wasn’t he? Where was he really? Still lying in bed? Not now, he told himself. I don’t want to think about it now…
The scene returned to normal, the sounds exploding back to life. Everyone stood around him again. Pip silently exhaled in relief.
The conversation continued as if nothing happened. Bokiboo performed a curtsy for Zaku after learning of his royal heritage. Zaku smirked smugly, soaking it all up. Puru giggled at their antics. Pip couldn’t bring himself to do anything but watch. He didn’t want the moment to end. Boki, now a bit more talkative, explained something about his job, and they all began to follow him around the theatre. Pip walked so much that his legs began to ache, but the discomfort melted away as soon as they set foot into the main showroom.
Rows of seats spanned the room, all upholstered in the finest velvet. Ribbons of gold twinkled down the aisles. But the stage… Oh, the stage. It was beautiful. Luxurious red curtains trimmed with gold brushed against wonderfully polished chestnut wood, all framed by white pillars chiseled with songbirds and ribbons.
“It's perfect,” Pipuru whispered. He didn't remember walking to the stage, but now he stood at its edge staring into the audience. He spread his arms, his breath trembling. “There's enough room for Papa and everyone to perform here!”
He scanned the seats and found Puru and Zaku sitting in the front row. But something was off. Puru frantically pointed to something behind Pip. Even Zaku stared with wide eyes. Pip's chest tightened, his tail curling around his legs.
“Pipuru, look out!” Boki shouted.
Pip didn't have a chance to react before he was shoved off the stage. Puru did his best to catch Pip while Zaku actively pulled his hands away. A large white ghost with wickedly sharp claws whisked over their heads with a spectral howl. Boki stood on the stage, chest heaving. He cupped his left eye, something red dribbling between his fingers. All Pip could do was watch again.
Their fight could have been choreographed. The ghost swooped back towards Boki, but he was ready for it. His hand fell from his eye as he twirled, gracefully pulling his giant syringe from thin air. The needle pierced the ghost, stopping it in its tracks. Boki injected its mystery pink liquid and the ghost shrunk to a harmless size. Despite the tomato juice drenching half of his face, Boki worked deftly to funnel the ghost into the jar with the others.
Finally, the work was done, the stray ghost secured. Bokiboo dropped to his knees, clutching his eye once more. Pipuru stared, his breath caught in his throat. His hands itched to clap for the performance, but something stopped him. There was a shift in the air, making his hair stand on end. As if time had reversed, the red crawled back up Boki’s arm and slithered between his fingers back towards his eye. Pipuru stared at him, at his eye.
The gentle blue had fled. Now, it was an endless void, all spiraling towards a single dim star at the center. The last of the red trickled inside. Boki sniffled, tears welling in his right eye, but the void remained unchanged. Puru and Zaku were silent. The edges of Pip’s vision began to swirl slowly, gradually darkening.
“Don’t look!” Boki finally stuttered out. But his voice was faint, distant like he was at the end of a long, long hallway.
Pipuru jolted awake, slurping up his small trail of drool. He slowly sat up, something papery crunching beneath him. Ignoring the aching pain on the right side of his body, he scrunched his hands on the ground. More crunching. He brought the items to his face. Handfuls of dead, brown leaves greeted him. His breathing quickened as he looked around the room. No neatly made bed with frilly sheets. No dresser. Just dark rotting wood and boarded windows. This wasn’t his bedroom. His hands shook. The leaves fell onto his blue blouse, flecked with dirt. His body itched. A thousand invisible bugs scuttled across him. Puru and Zaku were gone.
He squeezed his eyes tight and screamed. A long and shrill sound that caused the birds outside to fly away in a flurry of feathers. He curled in on himself, tail wrapping around his body.
“Pipuruuu~?” a deep singsongy voice called. The door clicked open and the voice gasped. “Oh no, my little songbird, you mustn’t scream like that! Your beautiful voice!”
Before long, Pip was scooped up in the Director’s thin, spider-like arms. He began to pet Pip’s head, brushing away all the grime as he hummed a soothing tune. Pipuru clutched the Director tightly, his screams quieting down into hiccuping sobs. He didn’t dare open his eyes again, for fear of the reality he might see.
“Is everything okay?” came Puru’s voice, wavering with worry. “We heard screaming.”
“It’s just Pipuru being a giant crybaby again, nothing new,” Zaku said, yawning.
“Zaku!” Puru exclaimed.
The Director gently shushed them all, now lightly patting Pip’s back. “How are you feeling, little angel?” he asked.
Pip shivered in his father’s embrace, now silent. Carefully, he opened his eyes. Everything was normal again. The room was lit softly with pastel colors. His bed with its swirling metal headboard had returned along with the dresser and mirror. The rug he sat on was plush and warm, the dry leaves gone. Even his own clothes were like new, a simple light blue nightgown with lace hems.
The Director smiled down at him with that grand, face-splitting grin he often wore. Puru and Zaku stood not too far off, the latter with crossed arms. Something in Pip’s chest warmed at the sight. I’m not alone, he thought, smiling faintly.
“I’m okay,” he said.
“Lovely! Simply lovely!” the Director exclaimed. He stood to his full 7 foot height and gave Pip a quick twirl. “Now, my little marionette, let's get you ready for bed again,” he said, sitting Pip in front of the dresser.
He quickly got to work brushing Pipuru’s hair and tail. By the time he finished, Pip’s eyes drooped; Puru and Zaku had fallen asleep resting against each other at the foot of the bed. The Director gently lifted Pip and placed him in bed, pulling the covers to his chin. He obsessed over Pip, smoothing down his hair, and adjusting the covers, as if he were preparing a doll for display.
Finally, he stopped with a satisfied nod. “Sleep well, my little songbird,” he said. “You need all the rest you can to face the world tomorrow.”
What if I don’t want to face the world? Pipuru thought, already drifting off to another dream.
Extra
It was an unholy hour, Pipuru’s monitor casting a blue glow over his darkened bedroom. Yet the squirrel was still awake, sewing fervently. Finally, he stilled, stretching his arm high above his head as he bit off the thread. He gently picked up his newest hand puppet, cradling the icy blue cockatiel with both hands.
“Hi Boki,” he whispered.
The puppet’s black button eye twinked in response.
Pipuru gathered Puru and Zaku, the twin bear puppets, and hugged all three of them close to his chest.
“Thank you for being my friends.”