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Amanita passed over the first item of clothing they could lay a long-fingered hand on past the mushroom-patterned veil of their sleeve, blinking dazedly as their customer gleefully seized it into her arms to hastily tug it down over her pale blue tunic still littered with tar-black scorchmarks. To spare her a moment of privacy their gaze fell gradually upon the shallow pile of identical red tunics only to lose themselves to uncertainty.
Why do I only have red? ...Why is it her exact size? What if other customers beside her have need of them, what then?
“Wow, you have great taste!” An enormous grin stretched across the hero's features when the shopkeeper returned their attention upon her reinvigorated frame, not a hair out of place despite the singed, soot-stained, dishevelled look she had entered their item shop with. “It's perfect!”
Too perfect... The shopkeeper nodded along absently.
“Here, your dues!” A handful of silver coins clattered noisily on the tabletop, although Amanita did not flinch. The boastful woman gave them a wink. “And you can keep the change.”
Everything these days felt wrong, wrapped like mycelia about an endless tangle of sourceless unease and delirium. But that... Somehow, that felt even more so. The shopkeeper shook their head, sliding the excess currency back across the countertop towards her, but before they could so much as mutter “I couldn't possibly...” she was already gone.
They blinked, and so, too, did they sink into the tireless abyss.
“Thanks so much for all your help last time!” The hero gathered one of their red-clad hands into both of her own, her eyes gleaming like the tarnished belt buckles that adorned her latest tunic – the same one they had sold her, if they were not mistaken. “Those wyverns were no match for me in this!”
They nodded absently, uncertain as to how an ordinary shirt might somehow provide her protection from the searing flames of the beasts. They only carried mundane items in stock.
“Say, since you were so good as to lend a hand, will you hear me out again?”
Amanita nodded. They were here to help anyone who might wander into their store, even if the hero was the only one they could ever remember seeing here. They tipped their cap, surprised it didn't completely obscure their vision.
“Great!”
Bare fingertips not garbed by the supple leather of her gloves stroked back and forth along the back of their own. They did not understand her fascination with it. After all, it was only skin, the same as hers and any other.
“You know, I think you deserve a name! Something more than just your job.”
They blinked, lacking in comprehension. They already had a name, surely. Everyone had a name. Even this hero, who they didn't think had actually introduced herself at any point.
But... the name they already had could not be recounted, slipping further into the abyss the harder they tried to recall.
“How about Amanda? It's like Amanita, like this town, but also with its own twist! You're a part of this town, sure,” her eyes grew strangely dark, insistent, “but it's not all you are.”
Amanda had no idea what she meant by that. But... if they were to be called anything other than who they were, they did not despise the sound.
“I'm Marla, by the way!” the hero emphasised. “Sorry for taking so long to tell you!”
Amanda nodded slowly, a small, appreciative smile spreading steadily across their lips. At long last, they finally had something to refer to her by other than 'hero'.
“Anyway, now that that's sorted, I'll be seeing you!”
“...You aren't here to buy?” Amanda called softly, befuddled. While their memory was tenuous at the best of times, they were almost certain Marla had yet to make a purchase today.
Marla paused a mere moment before she pulled open the door to the outside world filled with Amanda can't recall what, her fingers curled around the gilded handle. “Heh, well, today I spent my time instead of my coin. You'll see me again before you know it!”
She tugged the door open in a burst of blinding light. Amanda found themselves unable to peer through the haze of it no matter how much they blinked. They tried, desperately, to cling to the image of Marla's features – of her blinding grin, or her chirpy voice that always held such an air of mystery, a quality as blasé as deflective – but that, too, faded with everything else.
“The world. Is. Saved!” Marla pirouetted exuberantly about the wooden floor, just barely able to keep herself from crashing into a weapons rack. “All thanks to me!”
“Congratulations!” Amanda cried, swaying up onto their red-speckled boots with a lightness they have never known, leaning their elbow against the countertop at their side. “Would you like to have something from the shop to celebrate?”
“Something from the shop, huh?”
Something about her – whether it was the strange gesture her thumb and index finger made about her chin, the noticeable glint of her visible incisor as she leered, or the mischievous glint in her eyes half veiled by dark lashes – made them shiver with anticipation. Spores drifted off of their patchy red cloak, but neither coughed as they wafted about the air like glimmers of sunlight between protective bark and dappled leaves.
“Then, I'll pick you!”
Amanda had no time to understand what she meant by that before Marla grabbed their hand and ran. Amanda stumbled, working with all their might to keep up with her pace, but Marla never let them fall. She shoved open the door with seemingly no regard for its hinges but that was the furthest thing from Amanda's mind as they blinked up at a colour they had seen only once, the day the hero had first seen fit to grace their humble shop.
Blue.
Blue, like her original tunic, burned beyond recognition.
Blue, like potions should be.
Blue... like the sky they had always dreamed of, yet never recognised when they woke up.
It was... beautiful.
“Do you like it?” Marla asked, as their fingers began to loosen from their surely painful grip between her own. “This sky, blue as the ocean instead of a blackened storm... It cleared right up when I vanquished the demon king.”
Amanda was breathless, speechless, their grip in Marla's hold only tightening as if to let her go would be to disappear forever, trapped in a sea of such a mesmerising, unattainable colour, so different from their own.
“I did all this for you.”
Amanda's lips trembled, their heart raced. They had never thought about it, never felt it beating beneath their cloak, but they... were alive, weren't they, in this very moment? A smile, still small but far larger than any they had ever worn, stretched across their lips like blooming flowers.
“Hero... Marla... Thank you.”
When they turned to ensure that she understood the gratitude blatant on their features a strange, solid warmth smothered their lips. The blue sky vanished, traded for pretty pink and brown. Soft lashes tickled their cheeks, fluttering faintly where Marla closed her eyes in full. Startled, but not displeased, Amanda did the same, pressing back into the kiss.
They did not mind if the world faded once more into a dream of endless night before they opened their eyes so long as this warmth remained. They held tight to Marla's hands stowed beneath their own as if she might leave them too.
But she stayed. The warmth – her warmth – remained, amplified by the sunlight on their skin.
It felt like an eternity passed before she finally peeled away, breathless, laughing with the last of it she carried.
“Amanda... You're perfect, just the way you are. I'm glad I was finally able to bring you out of that musty old shop!”
“As am I,” Amanda grinned, their lips steadily peeling away from what must surely be teeth. “Thank you... for everything. Even...” Rubbery fingertips brushed their mouth, relishing the sensation of actually being able to feel. “Especially for this.”
“You're very welcome!”
Before Marla could devolve into a fit of chuckling, Amanda pressed their lips together once more, wrapping their arms around her in a gentle and ultimately protective embrace, like the tunic she still wore shielded her from flames. She would not have to fight anymore. She would not have to leave anymore. There would be no more occasions where she stumbled into their shop, covered in burns and scrapes and gashes, and with a trembling hand exchanged enough silver to purchase the relevant treatments. No longer must they endure the stiffness of her forced expression while she pretended she wasn't in pain. This happiness they felt between them, now... It was finally real.