Chapter Text
"so that's it then?"
superfish nods, swallowing heavily. he can't look at dj. he just can't.
with his back turned, he is just about to leave when a warm hand reaches out to stop him.
"if this is the last time we see each other—" dj's voice doesn't waver even once. "—i just want you to know that i'll miss you, superfish." there's that gentle squeeze of his shoulder that has become more familiar then he could ever have imagined all those weeks ago.
"i'll always be your friend."
superfish leaves. dj doesn't stop him.
but the phantom ache of dj's presence remains.
he replays that conversation again and again in his head the entire day. it never leaves his mind. not when he finally finds out where toppleprey has been hiding and manages to place a tracking spell on him. not when he is forced to send yet another one of toppleprey's goons into the pit of calcification.
the day ends quicker than it should have. he can't figure out where it all went wrong. because compared to the pointless antics dj and his friends get up to, his own life now feels downright bleak.
it's this impulse that has him materializing his pocket notebook from where he had last stored it in hammer space.
that's what life had been before—him searching through the human world for artifacts, books, and spells. for anything that would keep the forces that hunt him at bay. and within all that an impossible dream—maybe one day he'd be capable of bringing change to obscaria.
and that's what life is again—his life's work is meant to be held in a small endless notebook of everything he can hold within the palm of his hand.
he flips through the pages. calls over the tome he had been reading before—
and stops in his tracks.
the most recent page has his heart beating faster. the tightness of his chest returns like an enemy that refuses to be vanquished. but it's not an enemy. he has no idea what it is and he let it slip away from his shoulders before he ever had the chance to figure it out.
two notebooks. both enchanted to be mirrors of each other in case he ever lost one. in case it ever fell into the wrong hands.
and somehow he had forgotten one at dj's house. there's that vague memory of pulling it out for some last minute calculation checks. and then... nothing. because after that—
there had been nothing except dj on his mind after that.
and now running over the crisp paper, unmistakable and stark, is dj's handwriting.