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It was a wish, desperate, futile.
One Loop disagreed with, but one you made anyway, folding over a new leaf to represent yourself.
The new leaf was worse. Torn and shredded with holes in it, but it felt right, now. It came off a branch with four others, and something about the way they framed that one leaf felt. . .
It felt. . .
You breathed in, and out, and with a crackle of energy, you made your wish. “Please don’t let me be alone in this,” you prayed into the leaf, once, twice, three times, and then folded it up.
You hope that your wish wouldn’t fall out of the holes, but you suppose you’d find out soon. Will you know for certain the next loop, or in a couple? Maybe immediately?
If there’s a change, how will you know?
“I don’t understand why you need to make such a redundant wish.” Loop scoffed, not looking quite at you. “You already have me. What more could you want?”
“I’ll go insane without more people to talk to.” Is all you say. You already feel insane, most of the time.
You know Loop knows that. They don’t quite look at you, but they nod absently anyway, staring out towards where Isabeau usually sits. Your stomach twists on itself.
“I hope you get what you want from this,” Loop mutters. “But I doubt you will.” They glance back at you briefly, and then away again. “Look. If this goes how I think it will, then I’ll share my whole tragic backstory with you. Everything that makes me me.”
Ho!!
They say it like it’s a bad thing, but your chest loosens just a little bit. You smile at them, tilting your head. “You’re not going to take it back on me, are you?”
Loop sits still for a few more seconds, and then shrugs. “I don’t intend to, Stardust. But we both know how the Universe works.” Their eyes narrow at nothing. “But rest assured! I won’t take it back unless the Universe makes me.”
Bitterness swells in your chest, but even you have to concede. Reluctantly, you accept the promise, fragile as it is, for all it’s worth.
It would be nice to understand Loop better. Maybe having someone you could actually talk to, someone who felt like a person, would resolve the emptiness in your heart and by your side.
It would be all too easy for Loop to slide into that role, if they ever made the attempt.
But they didn’t offer anything else, and you didn’t go pushing. You both let it die, let the isolation nip at your heels, and you both went your separate ways until the next loop.
(>>)
You fall into the movements of the loop easily enough. Help everyone with their tasks, pray to the Universe it’s enough to make them happy, enough to make it last this time.
You enjoy a night under the stars, and then at the Clocktower you bundle into soft, unspooling warmth. You sit through Isabeau croaking out your name, and this time nobody wakes up because he’s not loud.
You pretend to be happy.
You close your eyes, and pretend to sleep until morning.
When the first wisps of morning start to peek through the window, you get up and wake up everyone else. For once, Mirabelle doesn’t even coo about how you’re an early riser, and how impressive it is.
She just. Stares at you for a while.
The unease is enough to shake you out of the dullness of repeating your motions for all eternity, and you cringe, lips pulling into a frown. “Mira?” You whisper, stepping half a step closer. “Are you okay–?”
She shakes it off rapidly. “Yes! I am great, so good, Siffrin! Thank you for waking us up!” She looks out the window, but it feels grander than normal, like she’s trying to make a show of it. “O-oh, look! The sun isn’t even over the trees! That’s impressive!”
Bonnie began to stir at her side, groaning angrily under their breath as they tossed and turned and shoved themselves more comfortably into the pillow.
“You know me,” you say carefully, because whewww, crisis adverted, but she’s still behaving strangely. “I rise with the sun.”
“Always looking out for us,” Mirabelle says, and the smile that accompanies it is real, as it always is, but it’s also so sad that you want to cover it up forever. What happened–
You think of your wish.
Did Mirabelle get affected–?! No, no, that doesn’t make sense. You haven’t even looped yet, how would she know? She hasn’t experienced anything yet. Maybe she’s just attuned to your mental state.
There’s more ways to cure your loneliness than just shoving them in your loops with you, and honestly, you shouldn’t even be hoping they do wind up with you. You don’t want to admit it, but the loops hurt. Maybe it’s just the crippling isolation, or maybe it’s the knowledge that no matter what you do, you’re going to wind up hurt or disappointed.
You have to fight the King, or you have to die. Those are the only two ways to restart the day, and you don’t want to doom your family to that.
But. You can’t imagine facing this alone.
Not anymore.
“Are you okay?” You ask Mirabelle softly, not sure what you want, but knowing you don’t want to face it alone.
Mirabelle startled slightly, smile growing weary and brittle. “Oh– Oh, yes! I’m perfectly fine! Sorry, I just had a, um. A strange dream.”
She had never had a dream that tripped her up like this before, which could mean nothing! But it equally could mean that she knew. That she had been exposed to the loops, somehow, during the night, that she understood–
You swallowed and put it out of your mind.
Until she opened up to you about it, you would let it sit.
(>>)
Everyone else was behaving oddly, too, you realize.
Nobody really ate their food, picking at it with a fork, but mostly just shoveling it around.
“I mean.” Mirabelle said anxiously. “Eating food is very good, and I know it’s an important meal and we probably need our strength up! But. . . I don’t think it’s very important that we finish it today.”
“I’ll pack it up!” Bonnie volunteered bravely, not able to hide their own growing relief. Now that was definitely weird. Bonnie loved food, loved their own food especially, and to willingly not finish their plate was worrying. “We can eat it some other time!”
“Or give it to someone else,” Isabeau offered.
“Mhmm! I think we’ve just had it too much re-cent-ly! I’ll make something different tomorrow.” Bonnie promised loyally.
“That would be wonderful,” Mirabelle smiled at them. “Thank you, Bonnie.”
They don’t know, yet, that tomorrow will never come. You sit on your hands, and feel regret, regret, regret.
(>>)
“Do you. . . need a refresher, Mirabelle?” Odile inquires awkwardly. Usually that’s your line, and you frown, looking towards her.
Mirabelle startles at the sudden call, snapping her head to stare at Odile. “O-oh, no, I'm good! Thank you, Madame!”
What. What? None of that is right.
You also weren’t going to go with a strategy or a refresher in any case, but it still makes your heart squeeze coldly, and you look back at them, feeling horror start to build up in your chest.
“Anyway we can out maneuver it?” Isabeau asks, giving you a strained smile.
Alarm bells scream in your head. Normally they didn’t care how many Sadnesses they fought at the beginning, savouring the ability to level up.
And now–
You swallow, and move on. “Of course.”
You try to ignore it, to put it out of your head, but it’s unavoidable. Somehow, your wish worked. And now your friends somehow know, they understand–
You don’t know, yet, if it’s a good thing or not.
(:)
It turns from strange off kilter to straight up annoying when you step into the death corridor and four different hands reach out to grab you and pull you backwards.
You splutter in shock, reeling backwards.
“Sorry!” Isabeau cries, releasing you from where his hand had been tightening on your shoulder. Come on, the one time he touches you there?! “Sorry, Sif, we just. . . don’t want to risk you getting hurt?”
They can’t be serious. They just can’t be.
You stare at them as Odile slips past to beeline for the pillar, pressing her hands between the rock in a way you know she couldn’t have done on her own.
The boulder slams down, and they startle, but not in the way they normally do.
Your stomach twists, but does not tug.
You can’t put it off any longer. You can’t just keep playing pretend. You need to know what to expect, whether it’s them following the script or fully breaking off of it or–
You breathe in, and out.
“So.” You say. “Some dream you had last night, huh?”
Everyone looks at you in shock, except for Mirabelle, who relaxes and nods absently.
“How did you know?!” Bonnie balks.
“I suppose we are acting rather odd.” Odile mutters to herself, eyes darting away.
“Look, Sif,” Isabeau begins nervously, but doesn’t seem to have a followup.
Okay. Okay, great, you can work with this. You breathe in, and out. “So what in all did you see?”
“Oh, gems,” Odile cursed, pressing the heel of her hand to her forehead. “The same day, multiple times over. Repeating. I cannot say how many times I lived it, but I saw. . . Siffrin, I do not know how to explain it, but. . .”
You know the rest. You don’t intend to voice it, especially if Odile won’t, but–
“. . . you saw me die.” You say without your will, immediately cringing and regretting it with the sudden fully concentrated force of everyone’s attention.
“Yes!” Mirabelle cried. “Oh, Siffrin, if you know–! Does that mean you remember?! You know that we– you know what we. . .”
“You really are looping in time!” Isabeau cried. “I wondered if you were, but it wasn’t quite right, and so I was starting to think. . . Maybe, uh, we were all blessed by the Change God?”
“Yes,” Mirabelle agreed enthusiastically. “Able to see the future! Able to know how it may or may not play out.” And then her eyes softened, and she started to frown, staring at you. “Able to see that you would. . . And we wouldn’t be able to stop it!”
You swallow. Stars, if you had known that they thought it was just a premonition, you could’ve played into that! You could soak in their care, pretend like you hadn’t known what you were doing was dangerous–
They would care if you died!
You can hardly believe it. The very idea of it is everything you could’ve hoped for.
Especially because they must’ve seen where the keys were, hadn’t they? They don’t need you to guide them through. They already had it all figured out. They must–
Oh.
A thought occurs to you, harsh and painful, and you whirl around to look at Bonnie. They blink at you, clearly caught off guard from your attention.
You don’t want to draw attention to it, you don’t, but you have to anyway. This is bigger than you. Bonnie’s safety always has been. “So– so you remember? Do you remember?”
“Remember what?” Bonnie asked, and then horror flooded their gaze, and they gave a single, jerking nod. “I– I do! I do remember, I– It was scary, it was so scary! Why would– why–!”
You almost pull Bonnie into a hug, to comfort them, but maybe they don’t want to be touched by their murderer–
You’re lucky that Isabeau beats you to it, stooping down and pulling Bonnie into a hug. You know, you know, you know that Bonnie prefers them from Mirabelle, but they sniffle and cling to Isabeau anyway, not looking at you at all.
Your heart spins over and over in your chest. You feel awful.
You killed Bonnie. You killed them, and this is your fault.
“Oh, Bonnie. . .” Mirabelle whispered, kneeling down to set one hand against the back of Bonnie’s head and the other on Isabeau’s shoulder. “It’s okay. It’s okay. We have you, okay? We have you.”
You feel sick.
Why did you have to mess this up?
You stand still, arms wrapped around yourself, hidden beneath your cloak as they cluck and coo over Bonnie, trying to comfort them now that you’ve dragged up their trauma and reminded them that they died.
You’re horrible. You’re awful.
You wish they would scold you, stab your dagger through your gut until all you can do is throw it all up. That would be better, wouldn’t it? Make it so much easier.
You put Bonnie in danger. You’ve been putting them all in danger, ever since you learned defeating the King does nothing to end the loops–
You wait until Bonnie calms down and reassures everyone that they’re fine before you turn and start moving again.
Nobody else says anything more, too distracted by comforting and reassuring Bonnie to remember you were the reason for it. You fall into the background, as always, and it hurts more than anything, because they aren’t supposed to leave you alone anymore, but it’s fine that they did.
You swallow it back.
It’s a familiar feeling, but it’s still painful.
It’s normal. It’s normal.
It hurts anyway.
(>>)
You almost thought they fully decided to ignore you. You are nothing, after all.
But then you stepped into the kitchen, and Isabeau called your name while Bonnie pale-knuckled your cloak.
“What?” You blink in surprise, twisting around to face them. “What happened?”
“Just don’t want you bumping into anything, buddy.” Isabeau smiles at you softly, but it’s strained in an awful way that makes alarm bells go off in your head.
Odile ducks around you, and you watch in utter confusion as she circles around the counter and opens up the cabinet to pull out the key. It’s not until she’s coming back around that it occurs to you.
You would’ve hit your hip again, without even thinking about it.
You nod shamefully.
“Frin?” Bonnie asks anxiously. “Are you okay?”
“Bon, come on,” you smile at them, plastic lips curling up. “Of course I am. Just, uh– forgot. That you all would. . .” See one of your greatest embarrassments, over and over again. You bite the inside of your lip and shake your head.
“That’s okay!” Isabeau said enthusiastically. “We, uh– we remember now. We can take care of it.”
Right. Right, they remember.
They remember.
You nod, again, not wanting to focus on it. You push on past it, and he makes a noise of worry, reaching out towards you, but he lets his hand drop in the next instant. He stares at you, falling into himself, eyebrows clenched, worrying his bottom lip.
You. . . move on.
(>>)
It’s the first snack break. You take your normal seat, away from everyone else, picking at your knee.
Everyone stares at you awkwardly.
You squeeze your eyes closed and bow your head. Stars, why did you wish for that? You should’ve just asked for them to– You don’t know. Offer you hugs? Maybe you should’ve wished for Loop to open up more.
Did they know this would happen? Was this what they thought would happen?
Stars, stars, you want to scream!
You can’t. You’re sitting in front of them, and you can’t.
You. Breathe in! And out! Because you are a normal person, normal, normal, normal!
“Sif.”
Isabeau’s voice is coming from way too close. You blink your eye open to find him kneeling at your side, watching you with pinched brows.
“Isa.” You respond.
He doesn’t say it back, doesn’t finish the bit, and you want to cry. Why can’t he do one thing normal? No, no, maybe he is normal, you’re the only oddity here.
You regret everything. Over and over and over again.
“We kind of glossed over the time loop stuff earlier, huh?” Isabeau says kindly.
“Yes!” Mirabelle says, and you startle, turning to find her in your blind spot. She smiles awkwardly at your sudden attention. “We, um. We want to know how. . . you are doing, Siffrin?”
“Bonnie’s the important one,” You rasp at them. “They got– the King–” You can’t finish it. You clench your hands and look down at your hands painfully.
“They’re making snacks right now.” Mirabelle explains gently. “And for right now, they seem okay. We can get them proper trauma help after this is over, and. . . We can ask them what they want to do a little later if they want to face the King or not.”
“And you, too, for that matter.” Odile agrees, having scooted closer to you when you weren't looking. “You have died to the King many, many times over–”
“I’m not going to leave you to face him by yourselves?” You cry, offended that they thought so little of you, but also, really, you’re not surprised in the slightest. You are a terrible person, after all. It’s only natural that they would anticipate the worst. “I– I’m the most powerful Craft user out of all of us! I can be useful!”
They stare at you.
Isabeau takes a soft breath and says “Sif. You’re really important. Vaugarde is pretty important, too, but we’d rather you stay safe! You know?”
He said it with a light voice, like he didn’t care, but then he looked at you, and all you saw was worry, worry, worry!
“I’ll be fine,” you hiss. “I have skills you need. I’ve done this so many times before, and–” You look at their expressions and reel it back in. You look down at your hands.
You don’t say anything else, just shake your head.
“Siffrin. . .” Mirabelle whispered. “We’re here for you now. You don’t have to deal with it by yourself.”
You clench your hands. You don’t say anything, you don’t want to say anything, you just want to sink into the nothingness, you just want to cry.
You can’t.
“Sif. . .” Isabeau trailed off sadly.
“Siffrin.” Odile said carefully. “You’re still our family.”
Ev e r y t h i n g
f r a c t u r e d
“What?” You ask, breathless.
“That was it, wasn’t it?” Odile pressed. “Or at least part of the issue. You ask for the same reassurance every loop, don’t you?”
Why does she have to call you out?! She always does this, digging in her wretched claws, prying you open, seeing you even when you don’t want to be seen–
You don’t want to talk about this. You breathe in, and out, and shake your head. “That’s– I’m just following the motions. That’s all.”
“Following the motions." Odile repeats.
You sink into your cloak.
“Is that why you do mostly the same thing every time, with little to no change?” Odile challenged, voice hardening. “That’s hardly effective. Gems, Siffrin, if you needed help, why didn’t you reach out to us?”
“It’s your problem.” You mutter.
“Hey.” Isabeau frowns. “If it affects one of us, it affects all of us. Have we ever remembered before?”
You shake your head.
“Yeah, I didn’t think so.” Isabeau sighs.
“Siffrin. . .” Mirabelle said gently, reaching out to hold your hands. “We care about you a lot. We love you! We don’t want you to be hurt or sad or– We want. To help you.”
You shiver, and look down at your covered knees. “I’m sorry that you remember,” you admit miserably. “You shouldn’t have to, you shouldn’t–”
“Naw,” Isabeau said pleasantly. “We’re happy to be here with you, Sif.”
“You shouldn’t have to go through this alone,” Odile agreed. She wrapped her arms around herself, and diverted her gaze, but. . . It sounds genuine enough? “Whatever you need, Siffrin, just tell us.”
“I have snacks ready!” Bonnie calls, marching towards you with the wide assortment piled in their arms.
“No plantain chips!” Isabeau says immediately. “Not for Sif.”
. . . they. Paid attention to what you liked? Between loops?
Does that mean they realized every time you’ve eaten them recently was manipulative, just to see them care and flock around you when you nearly throw it up?
But they smile at you, and you don’t think it’s that at all.
They actually care about you.
They don’t care that you’ve stuck them in time.
Will they remember the next loop? Will they turn in sync with you?
You don’t know. You don’t know.
But they don’t move away from you, staying close as they all pick their snacks. Bonnie only serves good onigiri, and Odile gives you one. Isabeau makes sure you get a cookie. Mirabelle watches you gently, and smiles when you look your way.
. . . you’re not too upset.
In fact, you feel warm.
If you reach out, they’ll surely catch you.
. . . You won’t tell them it’s your fault. Just in case.
But until they find out for sure, you’ll try to enjoy the smothering attention.
It’s. . . nice, after all, to be loved.