Work Text:
Ivan had gone missing in the woods. He’d come back, but it wasn’t really Ivan. There was something else in his place.
No one else seemed to notice.
It was driving Till insane. He knew that that-that thing wasn’t his friend. It couldn’t be! Even if it spoke like Ivan, looked like Ivan, walked like Ivan, and everything. Till knew that fundamentally, something was wrong with his friend.
It was high summer, cicadas were buzzing and it was hot out. The pair had been wandering town, as was usual for their past summers. ‘Ivan’ had finally been given permission from his mother to wander around town again and everything was normal.
Too normal.
Like someone had taken the idea of a normal summer's day and haphazardly pasted it onto a toxic wasteland.
‘Ivan’ would stare for just a little bit too long, or speak like he didn’t know words, or just, generally act like some sort of wrong thing .
It was odd.
It was wrong.
It wasn’t Ivan, it couldn’t be.
His Ivan didn’t have red pupils.
His Ivan wasn’t so fake, so plastic. Even if Till couldn’t place why
“Hey Till, you wanna get popsicles? It’s disgusting out. I’ll pay, c’mon!”
Till couldn’t do anything but nod numbly “yeah, popsicles sound great. There’s a convenience store a few minutes from here, isn’t there?” though the line sounded pre-rehearsed, fake. Just like everything ‘Ivan’ said.
Maybe Till was learning how to exist with this weird, fake ‘Ivan’.
Till found himself contemplating if whatever happened to Ivan, his Ivan, was contagious.
It was a funny thought and he found himself thinking that maybe, maybe if he metamorphosed into the same plastic he’d be happier.
Who knows.
They got popsicles, they sat and ate them outside of the corner store. ‘Ivan’ got a lime popsicle, like he always did. Till got a soda flavored one, wanting to try something new.
Wanting to not succumb to whatever painfully normal thing had taken over his friend. Not wanting to become a soulless copy of what had been himself. He didn’t know what happened on the mountain but he did know that Ivan was gone. That thing wasn’t Ivan. It couldn't be.
‘Ivan’ tilted his head and slumped forward to look Till in the eyes, he was grinning. That stupid snaggle-tooth sticking out from his lip and feeling achingly nostalgic.
How Till was able to feel nostalgic for something he was seeing in the present, something that seemingly hadn’t ended, was beyond him. But maybe it was because those red-centered, soulless, eyes weren’t his friends.
That demeanor he was wearing like a coat wasn’t his friends.
Nothing about that thing was Ivan.
“Tiiiiiiiiiiiiilllll, you look like you’re going through a mid-life crisis, what’s on your mind?”
Even if it sounded exactly like him
“...It’s nothing Ivan”
His popsicle started dripping onto the pavement. A courtesy of the heat. The cicadas seemed to buzz louder than ever.
“You sure?”
Drip
“ You remember anything from when you went missing?”
Drip
“Touché, Till, tou-ché”
Drip
‘Ivan’ straightened back up, biting his popsicle in a way that, before, would’ve made him flinch and shiver. Ivan had always had sensitive teeth. Till’s popsicle was still dripping pathetically onto the pavement.
“But seriously,” ‘Ivan’ started around a mouthful of popsicle
“if somethin’ was up, you would tell me. Right Till?”
“yeah of course I would…Ivan”
Till supposed that this wasn’t the worst ever. At least his friend was with him again, Till never wanted to lose Ivan again. Even if it was this weird imposter thing wearing his friends skin. It was fine… probably.
He would do anything to protect Ivan anyways.
He…couldn’t live through that again.
They repeated the same routine the next day. Hang out, walk around town, go down to the creek, Till would try to catch frogs while ‘Ivan’ watched and pretended to squirm when Till chased him around with a frog in-hand, and then finally head back to town once the hottest part of the day had passed.
Just to wander.
It was hotter out now that there were no trees to provide shade. The creek was a good bit into the woods afterall
Till ignored how oddly at ease ‘Ivan’ had been in the woods, far more comfortable than before
They wandered back to the same corner store, the routine feeling like it was pre-determined by some algorithm. Vaguely reminding Till of the movie his social studies teacher had put on on the last day of school.
Something about a guy that ran a lot looking for a military robot? Eh, Till couldn’t remember the details.
“Hey Ivan, what was that movie called… the one we watched before school ended?”
Now that he noticed it, ‘Ivan’ had gotten a lime popsicle again. Till had opted for the same soda-flavoured one he had yesterday. He’d quite liked it.
‘Ivan’ hummed in thought. Till noting how his pupils constricted while he considered it, like he was looking into an internal storage drive. It would’ve been cool, had it not compounded his theory that that wasn’t Ivan.
His Ivan didn’t do that and Till refused to believe that it was just a new quirk he’d spontaneously developed after going missing.
That would’ve been too convenient.
‘Ivan’s eyes went back to ‘normal’ and he took a bite of his popsicle
“I think it was something like- Dead Reckoning part one?”
Till hummed in response, enjoying his own popsicle so it wouldn’t drip on the floor this time.
“I think so. Yeah”
They went into the woods the next day. Way deeper than normal. It made Till’s hair stick on-end and everything felt wrong. It was probably fine though. He would just ignore how the shadows around ‘Ivan’ bent wrong once they were up there.
It was fine.
Till couldn’t do this anymore.
The week has passed by and it was painfully normal. Uncanny even.
‘Ivan’ was over for dinner and Till had let him look through his manga collection as usual. He’d picked up a new volume of Kokoro Connect, thinking it would be interesting.
Till hadn’t liked it much, though, ‘Ivan’ was seemingly thoroughly enjoying it.
Maybe Till would pick up another volume for ‘Ivan’s sake.
It was peaceful, quiet even. Besides the constant buzz of cicadas or the too-loud whirring of the AC when there was nothing to cover up the noise.
Till couldn’t do this anymore.
“Ivan. What happened when you were in the mountains?”
‘Ivan’ froze, it was brief, it happened every time someone asked him about the mountains. Like he was buffering. But this time, it felt more weighty, almost as if ‘Ivan’ could feel how stressed Till was at that moment.
“Like I said, I don’t remember much Till, is something wrong?” The response felt pre-rehearsed.
Just like everything that ‘Ivan’ did.
It was plastic.
Wrong.
Till couldn’t do this anymore.
“Iv- You . I know you aren’t Ivan. My Ivan anyways”
The cicadas stopped buzzing.
The AC stopped whirring.
‘Ivan’ stopped breathing or moving at all.
Then he looked up at Till, neck tilting at an inhuman angle as the side of his face unraveled. Flesh ripping-peeling-slipping and ceasing to exist to make space for a mass of swirling and ever-shifting goop. It was of all colors, looking sticky like glue but also slippery like ice. It had the consistency of both thick sludge and apple juice. The goop defied gravity, splaying out to occupy space everywhere around ‘Ivan’s face in fractal patterns made of impossible geometries and almost floral patterns.
Ivan looked terribly upset. The expression made Till’s stomach churn uncomfortably, just like it had before his Ivan had been replaced. Though he couldn’t tell if it was because of discomfort or muscle memory at seeing Ivan sad like that.
Maybe both, probably both.
“I was supposed to be a perfect copy. How’d you find out?”
‘Ivan’s voice was wrong now. Layered like something out of a poorly audio-mixed song. Sounds impossible to make with human vocal chords layered over ‘Ivan’s regular speech. It was wrong and terrible and oh so achingly familiar in a way that Till couldn’t quite place. Ivan’s face was dripping and melting with that goop, it felt like an infinite amount was coming out and disappearing into the void. In and out of his pores and skin like water at the beach.
Till felt like he had to say something, or it would do something unspeakable to him.
“I knew Ivan my whole life… uh- Ivan . It would make me a bad friend if I didn’t notice.”
It retracted some of its goop back into Ivan’s body. Looking scared, maybe a little hopeful. those strange red pupils dilating far too large for a human. If the bleeding goop wasn’t a good enough sign, the eyes were yet another reason that that thing wasn’t actually his friend.
“You- you’re not going to tell anyone right? I like being human. I like being Ivan .”
Till’s breath caught in his throat- he’d thought it had happened already when he saw his childhood best friend's face melt. But this was a new sort of breathlessness.
The air around him consisting of thick molasses and honey. Pouring into his lungs, constricting his breathing. He tries to make noise but nothing comes out, it’s like there’s cotton in his mouth. The feeling mixed strangely with the thick air around him.
It seemed to take this poorly as it stood up and walked forward, goop still dripping down out of his face. The ‘boy’ settled a pace in front of Till, like he wasn’t sure if going any closer would cause retaliation.
Till couldn’t stand the way that it looked at him while wearing Ivan’s face. Its anxiety looked just like Ivan’s before a test, the fact that something so mundane was now being used to manipulate Till infuriated him.
He thought he was going to throw up. Had it not been for how thick the air felt he probably would’ve.
It didn’t seem to notice, using his friend's mouth to speak once again. It was almost crying
“ Please Till, I haven’t been a human before. Popsicles, friends, stupid fun in the woods, walking around and having equals- I’ve never experienced it before.”
He still couldn’t answer, everything was too much. He- he had to do something. What could he do? This monster probably killed his friend and is now wearing his skin.
Seemingly Just for fun.
Disgusting.
But- it had preserved Ivan well, Till supposed. Even if the preservation was wrong and perverse, maybe… maybe Till could find it in his heart to accept this thing
“I’m begging you. Please - I-I may be borrowing this body and this personality but- my feelings are real, honestly-”
Borrowing Ivan’s body?
Borrowing it?
Like a toy?
What was wrong with that thing?
It’s too much. But- Till can’t lose Ivan again. Till can’t see him leave ever again. He missed Ivan when he’d gone missing and he just- he didn’t truly understand why he missed him so much. It didn’t feel like he was missing just a friend… but that wasn’t right. He was a boy, so he had to like girls, like Mizi. He liked Mizi and it was different from liking Ivan.
It must’ve just been missing his childhood friend so much. It’s fine and normal.
Even then, he couldn’t feel that aching hollowness in his chest without Ivan there to follow his every move like some stalker. He theorized that if he felt something like that again it would kill him.
“Fine. You might not be my Ivan but you’re still Ivan . I’m still your friend… aren’t I?”
“My best friend Till. And… thank you for accepting what I am.”
‘Ivan’ stepped forward, finally closing the distance and collapsing on Till in a hug. The goop moved so it wouldn’t touch Till as ‘Ivan’ all but dug his nails into Till’s back. Tears soaking into the fabric of Till's shirt
“Please don’t rat me out Till’
“I won’t Ivan. I– I could never”