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Siffrin turned to face their friends, a smile stretching across their face. It felt wrong, too wide, but also right, real. “I got it!”
And then their eyes found their friends. Found Odile first, the serious way she regarded them and their work, and then their gaze fell on their other three friends, eyes blown wide in pure horror. Terror and fear blistered across their expressions, Mirabelle clasping her hands over her face, Bonnie hiding as much as they could behind Odile, and–
Oh, stars, Odile was standing in front of them, hand outstretched, protecting them from–
From–
Siffrin looked over his shoulder, as if another Sadness would be there. He already knew there wouldn’t be, but there was no way he had messed everything up already, there was no way they hated him, after he had just earned their trust, helped them–
(They understand how selfish you really are–)
(Rewind, rewind, this is so unfair, why can you only rewind time when you die, why can’t you do it now that you really need to this is so unfair you don’t want to do this again, you don’t want to listen to their sob stories knowing the end a g a i n because you refuse to zone out over this, you won’t, you won’t, but oh, you want to you want to, why can’t you just r e w i n d )
“Siffrin.” Odile’s voice cut through the fog surrounding Siffrin’s thoughts, sharp as his dagger. He lifted his head from where he had bowed it, barely able to see her mouth under its rim. “What was that?”
She.
She was giving him a chance to explain. To get away with it. Almost too subtle to be noticed, the other three relaxed.
Oh, Siffrin was never going to ever zone out whenever she was talking ever again, he owed her so much, she was making sure they didn’t hate him, oh–
“Sorry!” He laughed, scrambling for an excuse. “I guess I’m just a little impatient to reach the king!”
“Impatience,” Odile said slowly, “does not do that.”
“Do what?” Siffrin demanded, forcing his tone to mellow as soon as the first words slipped out. “I’m just being motivated.”
She sighed. She actually sighed at him, as if he was being a particularly rumbunctious child, except that didn’t make sense, because Bonnie was a rumbunctious child and she never sighed at them! “None of us can take down a Sadness in one hit.”
“I can.” Siffrin blinked.
“You weren’t able to yesterday!”
“‘Dile?” Bonnie whispered, tugging on her sleeve until she looked down at them. “Yes, he could. When we were hanging out, they… they did.”
“He did what?” Odile lifted up her arm to better stare at them, Bonnie still clinging onto her sleeve with one hand.
“He–” Bonnie stopped, letting go of her so they could twiddle their fingers together nervously. After another second, they sobered, frowning up at her importantly. “They let me come with them to learn how to fight. And when we came to a Sadness that looked just like this one, I got… I got hurt. And ‘frin killed it right away then, too.”
Mirabelle turned to stare at Siffrin again. She looked terrified.
He thought they were clearing things up. Wasn’t protecting Bonnie a good thing? (Why does she still look at you like a monster?)
“They didn’t get hurt, this time.” Bonnie explained, and Mirabelle relaxing, slumping against Isabeau.
Seriously?! That’s still what they were worried about?!
“I don’t get hurt anymore!” Siffrin spat, and then scrambled to make their expression neutral again at the shocked looks everyone sent their way. “I– I’m more careful now, is what I mean.”
“No,” Odile said seriously, which, like, really? Really? “That’s not what you mean at all, is it?”
“Of course it–”
Odile took a step forward, and without thinking, Siffrin flinched backwards a step.
She stopped where she stood, chest heaving as she stared at him. “Because yesterday, you were acting odd as well. You went directly to the little boulangere, instead of to her father, even though you were the one who told me the father had it. How did you even know who had it? Nobody else I asked in this town knew, nobody…”
Odile snapped her jaw shut, and just.
Looked at him.
(You hate people looking at you, why is everyone looking at you so much? You helped them, you helped them, and they’re supposed to like you now! They’re supposed to… they’re not…)
Siffrin bowed his head again so he wouldn’t have to look them in the eyes.
“Siffrin.” Odile said slowly. Impatiently, even. “How do you know everything that you do? How do you…” she trailed off, frustrated and hard. “It’s not like you to be impatient or to lash out. Why are you– Are you, somehow, blessed with future knowledge?”
They had barely even entered the house! How could she already know all of this? How could she–
[Your friends pay more attention to you than you think!]
(That’s not a good thing, that’s horrible! Why would they do that? They already know there’s nothing interesting about you. The coolest thing about you was the looping, which they don’t – shouldn’t – know about! You’re a weird person blessed with memory issues and cursed with the inability to have friends, because you know you’re going to forget about them, and they’re not…)
“Siffrin,” Odile called, sharply. “What is going on?”
(They shouldn’t know you. They shouldn’t c a r e. Haven’t they realized by now that you only spent time with them so they would like you? No, no. That’s awful, stop, go back, with new direction– So that they would support you? So Odile would admit that you’re–)
(Stars, what was crabbing wrong with you? Manipulative, horrible, monster, the rotten thing was y o u, all along, you just hadn’t wanted to admit it. You terrible person, you beast, you–)
Footsteps, small, quiet, like Bonnie running away, but getting louder, but why would they be getting louder? Bonnie should be running away from the king, they should be–
“Siffrin.” Bonnie said seriously, and full name, that’s not good, that’s not good at all!
Siffrin blinked up at Bonnie, eyes wide. Behind the preteen, Odile stood at the ready, hand halfway extended towards them, prepared to pull Bonnie away if Siffrin did anything to them.
“I’m going to touch you now.” Bonnie announced loudly.
“Bon–” Isabeau began, but Bonnie was already leaping forward, snapping their arms around Siffrin’s arms and chest and–
Siffrin flinched, but it wasn’t really a flinch because it was a jolt towards Bonnie, punctuated by their arms wrapping around the younger, pulling them close. It felt so bizarre, so odd to hug someone, but–
(But Bonnie loves you. Maybe Bonnie’s the only one. Bonnie understands you, Bonnie– Bonnie shouldn’t understand you. They’re just a child. The idea of them understanding you is so wretched, so horrible–)
(They’re a kid, and they’re already afraid. Not of you, not yet, but… But if you protect them, they’ll never have to be scared of anything ever again, you just have to–)
Odile’s hand reached for Bonnie. “You shouldn’t be–”
Siffrin’s fingers popped out, forming the scissors sign on Bonnie’s back. He lashed out towards Odile, Scissors Craft sizzling at his fingertips because t h e y c o u l d n ‘ t t a k e B o n n i e a w a y f r o m h i m a g a i n–
And Isabeau was there, fist slamming against Siffrin’s arm immediately. The force slammed Siffrin right onto his back, and Bonnie’s grip on him brought the kid with him, Siffrin pinned on their back, Bonnie trapped on their stomach–
Isabeau’s fist shook from where it was still pinned against Siffrin’s arm. Siffrin blinked up at him. Isabeau’s bottom lip trembled. He wasn’t looking Siffrin in the eyes, gaze hazy and distant, but tears were still swelling up in his eyes, drippling down his cheeks and down onto Siffrin’s face.
Siffrin stared up, trying to comprehend what just happened.
Because… Because Isabeau had just attacked him.
Isabeau.
Had attacked him.
Used Rock Craft against them, even though he knew, he knew that Siffrin was weak to it!
But why wouldn’t he have? Siffrin attacked Odile first, didn’t he? And she…
“M’dame, are you okay?” Isabeau asked, twisting away, no longer looking at Siffrin as he looked to her instead. He was shaking.
“Y-yes,” Odile said, hands drawn to her chest in a defensive position, staring down at Siffrin in bleeding shock. “Yes, I’m fine, that… Boniface, y-you…” she stopped. Clenched her jaw as shock hardened to anger to–
Siffrin’s arm hurt, Isabeau had increased the pressure, probably without meaning to, but. But it still hurt. He loosened his grip on Bonnie, trying, trying to keep everyone happy.
(They can’t hate you, they can’t, please don’t let them hate you, please, you’ll fix this, you’ll fix this, you’ll fix this…)
Bonnie crawled off of Siffrin, and they looked scared, too. Still scared of him. They hadn’t fixed anything, they had just made it worse.
As soon as Bonnie was out of reach, Siffrin pulled their hand back into their cloak, finding the familiar curved metal of his own dagger, and brought it out. He had thrown stronger, more resilient, but his dagger had increased in power, too, matching his levels all the way up.
He just had to know where to aim it.
Losing his eye hadn’t killed him, so headshots were… unlikely to work, unless if it was death by a rock. (Stupid plantain…)
Unbidden, his gaze flickered over to Isabeau’s fist. Once upon a time, he thought Isabeau would hold back if ever they had to fight each other. He knew that wasn’t true, though. How easy it was to fall from allies to enemies–
(And it’s all your fault–)
He wasn’t going to ask Isabeau to use Rock Craft against him again. He wasn’t going to aim for his face. But… his neck…
It might not be immediate, but he’d bleed out quickly even if it didn’t go according to plan. Odile was holding Bonnie now, pulling them against her leg, staring at him in terror that oozed over her anger and shock.
Siffrin grabbed his dagger. Felt his hand shake.
He had never… used his blade… against himself before. It was terrifying. It went from… using tears or plantain chips to his advantage to… actually killing himself, like… people did in plays. He used to think nobody could do that in real life.
Because that. That was stupid.
(You’re stupid.)
[You are quite stupid, but are you certain that this–]
Siffrin snapped out his knife, bringing it sharply to his neck, felt the slightest brush of metal against flesh, and–
[Ah.]
Isabeau was pinning both his arms to the ground. Staring, huge eyes locked on him, tears still dripping but now he seemed unaware of it, now he seemed–
“O-oh,” Isabeau sobbed, shaking his head imperceptively, now watching Siffrin intently. “Oh… Sif…”
“What?” Bonnie asked, looking between Siffrin and Odile – or maybe Odile and Isabeau? — in confusion. “What’d they do? What happened?”
“Did he try to stab you, Isabeau?” Odile demanded, moving to clasp her hands over Bonnie’s ears. Bonnie tried to kick out of her grip, but she held them tightly, a fine tremor running through her.
“No, I don’t…” Isabeau gaze flickered down to Siffrin’s neck, where he could feel something trickling thickly down his neck. Blood. He had managed to nick himself, but not enough to be noticeable. Not enough to hurt.
“No, he tried to…” Isabeau trailed off, blinking hard. A tear hit Siffrin’s cheek.
He couldn’t wipe it off. It just felt… icky. Permanently stuck to his skin. Just like the blood, just like the feeling of hatred, being disgusted by himself because (who, who in the world would drive their friends to such m a d n e s s?)
“I know what he tried to do.” Odile said sharply. “This never would’ve happened two days ago. Siffrin never would’ve…” She trailed off, looking down at Bonnie, who was frowning up at her now. Siffrin could just barely see the kid over Isabeau.
Bonnie had been the only one to try to bridge the gap, to try to defend Siffrin. Until Siffrin lashed out. After such a lovely day with everyone yesterday, the one who hated him the most was the only one who loved him now.
But. He had just attacked Odile.
Maybe Bonnie hated him forever now.
He lost the last of his allies, friends, whatever. He lost them, and now (you are going to b e a l o n e f o r e v e r!)
He needed to rewind time. He felt like he had done it before, without dying. How had he done it? He needed to do it again. Just, focus, try to know what you’re doing, and rewind–
“Something smells weird,” Bonnie announced loudly.
Siffrin couldn’t smell it. Couldn’t break focus, he had to–
Isabeau’s fist slipped through arm, knuckles slamming against the ground so suddenly and roughly that the man squeaked out a cry of surprise and snapped away from Siffrin, cradling his fist. “How– What–?!”
Siffrin was free now, but they couldn’t move. They needed to loop.
“He’s trying to– to use Time Craft!” Odile realized with crippling dread. She let go of Bonnie, pulling away from him to march straight to Siffrin’s side to kneel at his side. “Siffrin, no, do you want to escape us so badly you’re willing to die?!”
(But you tried to hurt her. You weren’t thinking – but when do you ever? – and you tried to attack her. She should hate you. They should leave you laying here on the ground, writhing, rotting just like the rest of this stupid world. You tried to make them happy, and then keep them safe, but that was too much, wasn’t it?)
(You’re too much. Why couldn’t you have just died for good when that boulder first fell?)
(You had to backtrack plenty through the House. They probably wouldn’t have to. They would’ve been more thorough. They care more about saving Vaugarde than you do, after all.)
(Everyone’s better at YOUR job then YOU ARE YOU STUPID CRABBING IDIOT–)
“You’re stuck with us.” Odile told him frankly, and he felt everything.
Freeze.
He stared at her.
She stared back.
Isabeau shivered slightly.
Bonnie was twitching restlessly behind them, and even further back, Mirabelle was stuck as she combated her own indecision.
And Siffrin was stuck here. In an imperfect moment. Because he couldn’t even loop. He couldn’t fix his own mistake, he couldn’t–
Mirabelle choked a second before the rest of his friends did.
“Stop,” Odile snapped. “Stop trying to run away, Siffrin! It isn’t productive, especially not now.”
“We want to help you,” Isabeau said, desperately. “We want to help–”
(No no no nononoono! They didn’t understand you, and how could they? They don’t get that there’s no way to help you, no way to fix this. You messed up, you failed, you should’ve been more patient this loop.)
(Twice now you helped everyone, resisted the urge to zone out and listen to them spill everything out to you, pretend like you didn’t have the immediate solution every single time, and then failed.)
(You have to do it all over again. You don’t want to do it all over again. You don’t want to you don’t want to you don’t w a n t to!)
“Yes!” Mirabelle cried, taking a step forward, beautiful, sweet Mirabelle who doesn’t understand how strong she was, how much she was appreciated, how she would always be more than anyone else because she was who she was, her and her bleeding heart.
Disgusting.
“We want to help!” She promised, hands unclasping to reach towards him in something that could’ve been a hug, but Siffrin knew better.
All they did was talk about him, saying that he didn’t like touch. He startled too much. They would never touch him because they didn’t want to risk startling him. What did they call him many, many loops ago? An animal, a feral beast–
No, that wasn’t right, but the words just. Didn’t click. He couldn’t remember what they said.
But maybe being a feral beast was accurate, because.
As soon as he looked between the four of his friends, and he realized nobody was pinning him down, or seemed like they were actually going to attempt to grab him if he bolted…
He twisted to his feet and ran.
His friends cried in alarm, but they were all slower. They pursued after him, trying to catch up as he weaved between pillars and surged into room after room, dodging Sadnesses. He heard the noises of various Crafts every once in a while, his friends shoving back Sadnesses so they had enough room to pursue, but–
He came to a screeching halt before he reached the first tear. He stared at it. His own face reflected back.
“What is he doing?!” He heard Mirabelle gasp.
“What’s that floating water?” Isabeau demanded.
“I think I know what those are!” Bonnie cried. “Those–!”
Siffrin reached up his hand, and slammed it down, closing his eye–
Everything stopped.
(...)
(...)
(Start Again?)
(Dormont)
(...)
(...)
…
.
.
.
.
.
(You wake up.)
(You had a dream where… there were too many hands… reaching out of the walls, out of the ground, keeping you trapped.)
(They won’t let you leave.)
(There’s a hand on your neck. Squeezing until you choke.)
(Your neck still feels like it’s bleeding.)
[You got a Memory of Sadness–]
Well! Back to it!
Siffrin scrambled to his feet and tried to ignore the way the whole world felt hazy on the edges, tried to ignore Loop trying to speak in their ears, because…
(You better get a move on before Mirabelle gets here and worries about you or something!)