Pokemon.

I remember it from my childhood, I remember it from simpler times when I still felt like me. Feels like it's been ripped away to leave twisted entrails behind. Putting it back in the palm of my hands hardly brings it back, but for a moment in that place I could feel... lighter.

Like I'm still confident in what I wanted to do. Like I'm still aware of what I have to do. 

It was nostalgic, don't get me wrong, but every part of it was a million knives through my chest. Doesn't help that Thalassia was trying her best to be friendly - she tried to give me several handcrafted gifts. I feel horrible about accepting them because of how much I'd much rather spend this time alone instead. I'd sooner abandon it all for the sake of my goals, and having more to hesitate on only hinders me.

I would've been a lot more receptive to these gestures last month. That's another thing - I look at myself and all I can see is the ways I've changed. Forget the one forged from hours of absorbing pop culture, I can't even call myself by my real name without dwelling on how much of a lie that is. 

Koriol.

Koriol.

Koriol.

Doesn't sound like anything meaningful in the first place, does it. Just a made-up word with no thought put into it at all. 

Stan told me I'd be better off leaving a few jobs in, but the more I think about it the less I want to leave. There's nothing to go back to. There's nothing worth returning to. I'm sorry.

I can't take myself seriously with all the choices I've made. 

I've said it before, but the one that heard those words is gone. I'll say it once more: people that know the lengths I've gone to fulfill a goal will rarely stick around. 

Am I... really doing this because I want to, or is it all just for other people because it'd somehow make them happy?

They called me.

Jimbo, was it? Chuck? Goro?

Doesn't matter, they can raise and shed a name with the snap of a finger. They play dumb about the 'jobs' but it's more of an unsaid truth by now. No one seeking magical artifacts could possibly be a regular person, and that includes them.

There was another guy too, didn't catch their name. Just seems to be along for the ride. I can respect that.

They wanted to meet at my place, but I know better. I'm still concerned that Goro has given me this much seemingly without an expectation for returns. 

There's so much to know, so much to learn, too much to do, time is slipping my grasp and I can hardly think straight. Am I straight? Ha... shouldn't have pulled that all-nighter looking into...

Him.

Jacob Cruz. 

Let's start from the top. Order of operations:

1. Goro called me. Said they wanted to eat gyros together and give me something.
2. Went to Oliver Crescent. Taxi.
3. Introductions. They looked like Linus Tech Tips. Said they were Linus Touch Tips.
4. Ate food. It was pretty good. Don't get the fries, apparently.
5. They had wanted to see Jacob Cruz instead, but the guy wasn't picking up. Dead? Unlikely.
6. Chatted for a bit. Goro knew Zeph. Shocker.
7. Gave me an address. Jacob Cruz's residence: Arbutus Residences South Tower, 4288 Yew St, Vancouver, BC V6L 0C4
8. Gathered some things.
9. Retrieved a thing. The Knobbler spoke to me. Kept chanting about misery and strength and having nothing to lose and goals and achievement. Kept changing their own narrative each time I called them out. Suspicious, but could be useful. I'll see where that takes me. Doesn't change the fact that I'll leave soon enough.
10. Went home.

That should've calmed me down. It didn't. Didn't know I could make this face. Shame from looking in the mirror doesn't even dispel it. It's not my place to tell myself I'm wrong for feeling this way. This guy took advantage of Zephyren. How old is he? Like, 30? Zeph was 19 up until a month or two ago. Wallowing in self-pity when all the things he's done are by his own hand - he has no one to blame but himself. 

I have his papers.

Nothing's stopping me from exposing him the moment I find him. Now, to decide whether he gets to live...

But Zeph... I... I don't know. I don't think I want to know? God, I just... What am I supposed to do here, with all this information and leverage and power and-

I never wanted this. I just wanted to know what happened and how I could possibly save him if he were in trouble. Jacob is the missing link here, I'm sure of it. He knows. I'll decide what to do with him after I've gotten what I needed.

GIVE HIM BACK.

1...

2...

3...

COMMANDER'S LOG #6 - BEGIN COMMUNICATION.

Good news! I was able to manifest something to help Luciole like I said that I would! It's... I don't really know how to describe it, but it's sort of like an illusion mixed with therapy? The specifics aren't important, what matters is that it's magic, gives people a vision of space, and works over the phone.

...

Unfortunately, I don't currently have a phone, so I have to walk all the way to Meadow Lake to use it. I've done the trip a few times already, but... It's exhausting. It's a full day of walking and there's not much out there. I wish I could hitchhike or something, but it's far too risky to get into a car with someone who's not... You know... magic. Despite the distance, I was able to make it to a payphone and call Luciole, and thankfully she picked up! We had a nice little conversation, and then afterwards I picked up some supplies and made my way home. Now I've just got to wait around for another job and... Yeah. Nothing... Nothing else for me to do right now...

...

Luciole is... Luciole is a lot. She- or they? I don't... I'm not really sure what to call them anymore. They're... No, I think it's still she... She's... Give me a second.

[There's about a minute of silence that is occasionally broken up by footsteps, shuffling, and exhales]

Okay.

In our conversation, Luciole revealed a lot of secrets to me. I don't intend to share what they told me with anyone else. This is between me and them. I will say what I learned here for record keeping purposes.

The most important detail is that Luciole isn't a singular consciousness. I don't exactly know what that entails, and I don't expect that I will ever truly learn. It sounds... complex, to say the least. I am aware of Aria, she seems mean, but Luciole considers her a friend. I think that Aria and I might have just got off on the wrong foot, I think I was pushing a little too hard when I met them... I did try to apologize, but she... I think she might have just been stressed. I don't think Aria is the only consciousness that Luciole has. I don't know how many voices are in Luciole, there could be tens, hundreds, even millions of consciousnesses within her... Or there could be like... three. Like I said, I don't know.

Currently, I think of Luciole as: 1. Luciole, the primary consciousness, the commander, so to say. 2. Aria, the secondary consciousness, the pilot, second in command. 3. Lucioles, the undefined consciousnesses, the rest of the crew, may or may not exist.

For the sake of clarity, I will continue to call the whole being "Luciole" because that is what she calls herself. I do not know how accurate my assessment is, and I suspect that there are many, many things that I do not know. I don't even know if I'm right to divide them into consciousnesses...

Secondly, Luciole is haunted by... Something. She called it "They" and didn't seem to want to go into specifics on what "They" are. Luciole last met "Them" seven years ago, and she seems very afraid of encountering "Them" again. She doesn't remember what "They" did to her, though she did mention not being able to close her eyes for quite some time after meeting "Them." Apparently, "They" are the reason that Luciole is... Multiple. She described it as "Ils ont te fait 'Vous'" which would roughly translate to "They make you 'yous'." Whoever or whatever "They" are, Luciole is really afraid of "Them."

I don't know the exact specifics on "Their" nature, but I get the impression that "They're" analogous to a cult. My other theory is that "They" are a Lovecraftian Horror that is inherently unknowable. Whatever "They" are, "They" are not something to be meddled with, given Luciole's fear of "Them."

...

There is the possibility that "They" are not real. Well, no. "They" are real, but not to the world at large... That doesn't make sense. Hang on...

What I mean is that "They" might be an entity that only exists within Luciole's mind, comparable to a sleep paralysis demon but far, far worse. Regardless of "Their" nature, however, I should treat "Them" as being real. Luciole has been hurt by "Them" and that is unquestionably real. "They" are real to Luciole, and that's the important part. Dismissing "Them" as fake won't help Luciole.

Third, Luciole is trapped. I don't know who is trapping Luciole, but I think it might be her family given the fact that Luciole mentioned living with them. By the sounds of it, her home life is really, really rough. In a lot of ways, it reminds me of my own home life, but without Dad, without Arcti, without... Without anywhere to go. She's tried running away before, and it didn't work. It sounds awful, worse than how it was for me. I don't know how she's even surviving, she's... She's a lot stronger than me, that's for sure.

...

What if I brought her here? I mean, I've been here for months now and no one has even come close to finding me. If I went on another job with her, I could ask her to come home with me... That would be a bad idea. Luciole has tried to run away before and that didn't work. Her family- or whoever is trapping her- would come to find her. We could last a while, but sooner or later, they would find us. I can't bring her here, that's putting a target on my back...

I owe it to her to try. I can't... I can't leave her alone out there. Sure, I don't have any responsibility to help but... Luciole is my friend, and I want to help her.

There's more, there's so, so much more. I think Luciole is afraid of being a burden? The people trapping her tell her that she's not special. She seems to hide her emotions and true feelings a lot. There's so much more, so much that I don't know. I could go on and on and on, but... My voice is getting tired.

I'm sorry Luciole, but... Thank you for being my friend.

Sic Quaerimus Astra.

END COMMUNICATION.

I dream of you tonight.

There you are, basking in the golden glow. You've always flocked to all that glitters and glows - it's your second nature. Your passion is bright and I can't help but draw near as well.

There is a look of childlike longing as your hand hits a glass wall. It's a world you've never been able to touch, dangling just beyond your fingertips. You reach upwards nonetheless, as valiant steeds catch your gifted eye. It's cruel, how you're made to see everything and yet you're still held back from the little bit of comfort you'll ever scrounge. Would you forgive me if I tried to help?

The ticket lies before you now. Some twisted part of me hopes that if I have what you want, what you need, then I will in proxy become the one you want. Your gaze stares past me. Of course it does - how could I ever blame you? A tragic tale it is, that if I ever spoke up, I'd be deemed spoilt and selfish. All I wanted was that little bit of happiness they promised on TV. I'd never expect you to solve my problems or fix me - I just want you to be here. 

Talk to me.

Look at me.

Know me.

You don't have to understand. You don't have to feel the same.

Just let me help you be happy. Just this once, I beg of you.

Your smile is all I could ever hope for - I know you still have it within you.

You're sat upon the horse now, kitsch turned miraculous. Your crimson hair is a complement, but really, I just like the sight of you. A knight in shining armour, like that seat was meant for you. Faux gold reflects within your eyes and I can only imagine what I'd look like in them too. The gold is for my hair, the gold is for I like you

Look, no hands, is what I think I hear. You spread your arms wide like wings to the sky, you've always been meant to fly. So fly, why don't you, as deathly screeching halts the tale. Porcelain shatters beneath you and suddenly you've fallen. Down, down, far into the abyss, and all I could do is watch in abject horror. Gears gnash and creak and crush, and my heartbeat falters at the sound of squelching flesh and shattered bones. Did it hurt? Did you know? How long did it last? Have you died by my hand? Would this have happened had I not given you that ticket? Or did you choose not to fly, just so you could be that much farther away from me?

...I get it. I understand. I wouldn't be friends with me either.

I just... wish you didn't find the need to die to prove a point.

All I can do is thrash and scream, knowing in worlds beyond that these words couldn't feasibly reach you:

"ZEPHYREN. PLEASE. COME BACK."

I wake up. There is darkness.

...I'm cold.

I was at the shooting range today and something weird happened. There was another guy there that looked kinda like the guy I stopped from shooting up that high school and he was saying weird stuff so I didn't really like him and then he was shooting and he was actually pretty good at it. When he had some people watch him to do a trick shot I had the idea to try and intercept his bullet with mine like in movies and it actually worked and he was really embarrassed. I also realized that I was faster than normal at reloading my guns so that was weird too. I don't really know what it means but it's less jarring than seeing everything all the time and is actually kinda cool. I hope I get more powers like this one so that I'm not in constant discomfort all the time like I was with the other one.

What value lies in the remains of a firestorm?

The memories. The flame has traveled far and wide, and leaves behind a mark in their wake. They have illuminated the world, if only for a brief glimpse, trailing along with none a goal but to "live". In that process they pass on the torch. They live through those cursed to remain and remember. They live vicariously and it's the brightest they have shone - their life so unremarkable, yet their legacy too devastating to leave behind. The cycle continues.

The emotions. Anger is what marks his name, etched into nightmares of the west wind. It comes from the soul, the bottom of his heart, to all those willing to ask and listen. He's tried to speak, he's tried to sing, he's tried to tell people that arguing is just a waste of time for those who demand the last laugh. He gets swept up in the storm and thus opts to walk away instead. People disappoint him. The one who matters ends up taking all the blame.

The promises. That's all he ever was. That's all he's ever lived for. He has to stay alive if only to keep his end of a deal. At times he wonders if he really gave himself a choice, but he's terrified of the answer so he shuts his thoughts away. Turns his head from the ruins of the blaze. His truths come out with his oaths because he bares his heart to express the few things he wants. Now he's inadvertently shackled them with his obsessions.

Zephyren never needed value.

He just n-n-nn-ne needed, n no, ww w wanted a

.

.

.

Entry 1. After the clown and the guy that shot their back.

Saw Caliose recently. Wasn't she supposed to be dead? Hezalea said so herself. I'll look into this. Might be interesting. Faked her death, maybe? It doesn't seem like she's hurting anyone. Just hangs out with this one guy more than usual.

Entry 2. After the fiesta fiasco.

At this point I'm sure it's not her. Not sure how it happened but it doesn't hurt to find out. She seems... like a husk of sorts. Yet, she's getting better at being her, in some ways. God, I feel like a creep just tailing this girl but can't I just solve a good mystery for once? Also, Saffr Zephyren is onto me. I think. But then he started talking about favours and whatnot and how I won't get closer to Caliose just because I'm near him? I mean, I know that. I wouldn’t expect anything from anyone. It's also a bit awkward because I've never really spoken to this guy before, let alone one-on-one. We’re definitely on varied wavelengths. Same friend group, different topics of discussion. Oh. And I guess we're eating Pho now.

Entry 3. After the dinosaurs and delirium.

Zeph’s been avoiding Caliose - and probably for good reason. I can tell that much. It never feels good to see two friends essentially drift apart though. I thought they were close. A nagging feeling tells me they were so much more, but their gazes never really aligned, did they. He doesn’t look her in the eye. It’s messed up. How is Zeph coping with this? Which version of her is he really friends with, anyway? Wish I could ask. Instead we just meet up and he asks me for help with designing some part of a glyph. I’ve watched The Owl House, I know how those work. Lylith does have some strange books at home but I won’t base it too much on existing occult stuff. My sister loves collecting that stuff.

Entry 4. After the tale and the blood.

We were studying. And then we weren’t. Had I always just fallen asleep like that? That can’t be. Either way it’s strange because he’d rarely just leave anyone there - he’d chide them for leaving their stuff unattended first and foremost. He diverted the topic with stargazing. …Guess he doesn’t want to talk about it.

At the end of the day I don’t know him well enough to ask anything meaningful. I…I don’t think he’d like me very much if he knew any more. I can’t just accept some whim-driven words - our friendship is at stake and I would never want to see it die before it starts. Please. 

Entry 5. After the clone and the mouse.

He needs to understand first. He looks up to me - well, he is shorter than me - but he doesn’t realize that I’m far from a good person. Zeph talks about promises and doing the right thing all the time, but I doubt a majority of my decisions back then were right, nor did I even think about the consequences of shirking my promises. In my efforts to minimize pain, I realized I was just doing it for the sake of my ability to fall asleep each night. For the longest time I’ve run from my problems, but they always manage to catch up and claw at me. Why is he even asking whether I’ve done anything horrible? He seems to know the answer already. Why does he still stick around, then?

I have too many things to worry about right now. Hezalea refuses to tell me anything and the people around me are all slowly changing. Did I mention how Luciole vanished for a month? The studio class isn’t big - it’s easy to notice when one person out of the dozen of us has gone MIA. In my spare time I’ve taken up the violin. It calms my nerves just a little.

Entry 6. After the feast.

I wonder if shapeshifters and skinwalkers really exist. “Caliose” strives blindly for a goal she doesn’t believe in, and I start to wonder why she does that in the first place. She could live peacefully on her own. She has identity cards, documentation, all the nitty gritty information one needs to prove their own existence. Though I guess I understand how painful it might be to live without a direction, but sometimes you just have to live in the present instead. Don’t think about what you’ll do in 20 years. Focus on what you’re doing now and whether you want to keep doing this. I just… don’t understand why Zephyren won’t let go if he already knows she isn’t the real Caliose. He loved her a lot - it’s obvious now, but this reads more as obsession, and I can’t let him get any closer if that’s the fate that awaits us too. With how easily he backs down, he’d doom us.

My sketchbook is filled with drawings of wings and fire and mythical birds nowadays. Been trying to think of a good birthday gift - as much as I keep talking about distance, I still do want to give him something. At the end of it all he’s still a good friend.

Entry 7. After the late-night games.

Why is he so surprised to find out people do care about his day? I know he’s always been guarded - in fact I understand how it feels - but isn’t it a common courtesy to ask what he’s been up to? Of course I know he’s doing some under-the-table stuff outside of school, but he ought to be better at relieving suspicion. Come on, get better at hiding your expressions when someone talks about the Trump assassination. While most people would react to that news in some way, your reaction just screams “oops”. Though, for once I don’t want to pry into what he’s been so desperate to hide. It’s very unlike me, isn’t it? I don’t know when that changed. I don’t know how much I’ve changed. Hezalea refuses to tell me. In fact she’s planning to move elsewhere. There’s no problem with that, I just get the sinking feeling that she’s going to jump headfirst into situations again and end up in even worse circumstances.

How well do I know myself? How well do I know my friends in comparison? Did I even realize I was putting up a mask in front of Zeph? Well, part of me was quite aware, but I didn’t know it was that bad. Maybe, just maybe part of the culpability fell on me for not being more honest. But that’s for the best- stop that. I probably started pointing out his flaws just so less attention would fall on me. This stuff is a two-way street. Surprise, surprise. I’ll tell him soon. I swear.

He likes the gift. I’m happy.

Entry 8. After the purge.

Had originally scheduled a jamming session, but the moment Zeph opened the door I knew something was up. His hair was matted on his face, and as I pulled back the hood I nearly fainted at the sight of what I thought were bloody entrails of- anyway. He didn’t look great - I mean, he’s cool and cute and all but I meant ‘not great’ as in extremely under the weather. I’m afraid all his hair will just fall off if I don’t untangle it strand by strand. I’m afraid I’ll hurt him somehow. Am I even supposed to be doing this? It seems way too intimate - wouldn’t his parents be a better option? Does he have parents? God, I don’t even know what his home life is like. He never talks about his past. I guess… I’ve never really done that, either.

Zeph’s music is… melancholy, but strong. The way different people play the same song says a lot about them. I can’t really explain why, but there’s still a level of restraint that he holds towards himself as he plays. The strongest beats could be so much stronger if he stopped burdening himself with the fear of messing up. Things happen. What’s the point if you don’t do enough to even give yourself the chance to make mistakes and learn? He stops playing and he looks at me. Flinches because the movement jostles his hair. We share eye contact through a mirror instead. He speaks to me.

He often goes on… jobs.

He meets all kinds of people there. They all find a way to get on his nerves but somehow he’s still the least agitated person there.

He gets into situations. He swears he never wanted to. He knows he’s implicit in the murders anyway.

There is a man named Jacob Cruz. I’ve heard of him - I’ve seen the news. Zephyren is hesitant to speak of him. Did he hurt him? No, that is not a look of spite or pain. He simply isn’t sure what he thinks of the man anymore. I don’t really understand it, but maybe he’ll tell me more about it later on. All I can say is, I envy him. I wonder what side of Zephyren he gets to see. I wonder how much of Zeph's hurt and happiness stems from him. God, why am I beefing with a stranger?

In return I tell him about myself. I’ve never killed a person with my own hands but I might as well have, having been the brains behind it all. I didn’t choose to be in that position either - if I had a choice between that life and this one, the answer is obvious.

He gets up to drink some water, and ends up doing a cool little magic trick before the glass falls to the floor. What was that about? I’ll ask him to do the trick again later, that was pretty interesting. Or… I can figure out the trick myself and surprise him with it next time.

Zephyren’s state of mind is too fragile to handle with my bare hands. He passes out and I hardly know what to do besides basic first aid. I’m terrified. It seems like exhaustion, but what if it’s more than that. Well… he did say he was tired. I bring him to the couch and Pancake keeps him company. Maybe he’s hungry? I’ll make some food. I wonder if he’s good at cooking too. I would’ve wanted to cook together, but that’ll be for another time. It’s past sunset now.

We watch a movie. I glue my eyes to the screen. Why don’t I want him to catch me staring? Why is it so wrong to look at him? I’ll think about that later.

For now, it’s warm, and that’s enough for me.

Entry 9. Before the last light.

He asked me to look after Pancake for a bit. Said it shouldn’t be for longer than a week. Signs say he’s headed for another job, but I really hope not. Maybe he’s just going on a roadtrip with a friend. Maybe it’s a department-wide outing. Maybe he’s visiting family. Every time I see the nametag on the collar, his name catches my eye. I should tell him before I can’t.

.

.

.

Hey, Caliose?

Hm?

I... I lived. I tried, anyway.

You did.

I'm sorry I couldn't live a little longer-

Don't say that, it's not always in your control. 

I- ...right.

You did a lot better than I have.

Damnit...

Zephyren, it was never meant to be an obligation. Just a request.

Your little 'request' fucks people up, y'know.

I know that now.

Were you watching?

It's not my place to.

Did you know all along anyway?

Know what?

That I'd keep going just because you told me to.

No.

Then why did you say it?

I didn't know what else I could do. How much is an 18 year old orphan supposed to know?

18? Aren't you, like, 20 now?

Zeph, tell me where we are.

...No.

Zeph.

There's no way.

Zephyren, I never left Japan. You have to know this.

I- I didn't-

I never had the chance to. I tried to say goodbye to her. I should've known why she was so against it in the first place.

Caliose, I- oh my god... 

Did... did you not know?

I swear I did. I don't know why I stuck around her for so long. I promise I never crossed any lines I wouldn't ever do that I'm just stupid I swear. The only time I did anything remotely 'intimate' was with a coworker to divert some thugs' attention but even then I didn't-

Zephyren. Zephyren Sangris.

The doppelganger fucking insisted on taking the same last name too-

I believe you.

Everyone in my life just kept lying to me, I was afraid even Koriol would leave and turn out to be a skinwalker someday-

You're safe now.

I don't know if I can ever fall asleep again.

You won't need to.

...What?

You're dead.

I... I know that. But I have to go back-

Rest.

Jacob's gonna do something stupid again-

Then let him. People do stupid things all the time.

I can't just let him throw away everything I've tried to tell him-

I'm sure he remembers. All you can do is trust him.

I don't- I can't- I don't want to, Caliose. I can't do it. I can't keep letting people just step all over the promises I try to make because it's more convenient for them. I hate it. I hate it so much why did it have to be me. It didn't have to be me. I wish it were-

You don't wish that.

Try me-

You don't want that. You're not that kind of person.

THEN WHAT THE FUCK AM I, CALIOSE?!

You're kind.

I'm weak.

Are you really still letting that archaic mentality get to you?

It's just a fact.

You were the strongest person there, and I know it.

How would you know? You've never cared to look.

I trust you.

You shouldn't have. I hung out with your doppelganger for who knows how long.

Because you cared about me. You couldn't let go of the small chance that it really was me.

You don't know that.

I believe it anyway.

This is why you're dead.

...

...I am... so sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I didn't mean it.

I mean... you're not wrong.

Sometimes the truth is better left unsaid.

I'd rather you be honest anyway.

...Fuck.

You're Zephyren, and Zephyren doesn't wish death upon people this easily.

I hated it... I hated it so much, Caliose. I'd really rather just be dead than have to be the mediator. I did one hell of a job too. I tried to take a more active role but their voice grated at my ears. Even when I'm not the problem I end up getting yelled at anyway I hate it. For once Jacob didn't do anything bad - he was just hounded on because he was the one who happened to kill those exploding creatures. So of course I'd try to defend a friend. But no. 

It's so frustrating. It's unfair. I know damn well I tried much harder to do so much more and the one time I actually have the courage to step up it turns out I've made a grave mistake.

People don't hear me when I initially speak and my confidence dwindles and then I let opportunities slip my grasp. All my plans have gone awry and this is how the world repays me when I stop being a 'coward'. I've said it before. There's a difference between bravery and needless self destruction. I... I thought I stood a chance there. I shouldn't have.

The others try to apply human logic to everything but sometimes things are just out of our understanding. And when I try to point it out I get shot down. Damned if I do, damned if I don't. I'm tired of it, Caliose, I'm tired of being told I'm wrong for what I do and what I don't do, I'm tired of being told I'm wrong for being born this way and raised this way.

I don't want to play this game anymore. I just want to go back and tell the idiots I'm alive and laugh it off and just live the life that I was meant to live. I don't think I was ever meant for those jobs. I was never ambitious enough to change the world. I just... want to make something I could call my home. I wanted to stay. And now I've been left behind.

...You... did your best.

They drag me along and call me a bad person because of it. They try to dictate what I should and shouldn't do and it gets so annoying. I never wanted to be a bad person. Please. I just want to work with people like Jacob and Lily and Charlotte and HND-E and Oggi again. They knew what it meant to work together.

I want to see Koriol. I want to go back. Things weren't the best but I was never discontent, especially not in those last few months. I tried to live. I did what I wanted to do. I'm devastated that Pancake just keeps losing their owners. Of all the people who know what happened, Jacob's the only one who'd feel anything about it and I'm terrified of what he'll do because of it.

I don't know what to say about that. I guess... people move on. If that makes you feel better.

Not really.

You don't want them to move on?

If they did that so easily, then... what did I ever mean to them?

Oh dear.

...Y'know, when the Harbingers first asked what I wanted to become, I answered, "A phoenix."

That's fun.

I didn't think much of it, but somewhere along the way it seemed so achievable.

It is achievable, isn't it?

I...I don't know.

I wouldn't know either.

I wish you could've been there to see it. I could shoot firebirds from my palms.

I can imagine.

Caliose, did I live well enough?

That's for you to decide. Were you happy?

I was happy, if only for a few moments.

I'm glad. Maybe that's good enough.

I don't know. Some part of me has always wanted more. I realize that now.

Then strive for it.

I'm dead.

And so am I.

That... doesn't really mean much, does it? You're still here.

That's up for debate.

What's that supposed to mean?

No one really knows what happens in the afterlife. For all you know, you're just talking to an idea of me.

Don't do this to me, Caliose. Not again.

It's not for nothing. I guess you just... needed some form of closure with me. 

I don't want to be alone. But I don't want to live for the sake of other people again.

What's so wrong with that?

They make me do stupid things- well, they don't tell me to, but inevitably I want to do so much more for them. In a way this is why I stayed and fought too. If I didn't know anyone in that group too well I'd just run as fast as I could. Get the flying creatures. Forget Wells' animal mind control, I can talk to them too... probably. Just... anything to keep myself alive a little longer.

Would you forgive yourself if you did that this time?

...If Jacob died? Never.

There you go.

I guess... I've just never wanted to lump myself in with other people. Thought all I wanted was to do everything for myself. By myself.

You've always been a ball of contradictions. Everyone is.

You're right.

Do you believe in fate?

I don't know, but there sure are a lot of strange coincidences.

There are. And they'll only happen if you never stop moving forward.

You're cursing me again.

Because you want to be.

You've got me there. What happens if I can't find anything after a thousand years?

Your brain would probably be too eroded to think anything of it at all.

That's hardly comforting.

You wouldn't know by then.

That's how the bird flies, I guess.

Yep.

...Hey.

Yeah?

In the end... was I a firebird or a phoenix?

Would you care for my answer?

I'll take anything I get.

You wanted to be a phoenix. So, you're a phoenix.

Just because I wanted to be?

There's nothing stopping you from wanting.

Is there, now?

You'll always be what you make of yourself. Not what others say about you, not what people define a 'firebird' or a 'phoenix'.

Doesn't change the fact that I've had very bad luck this whole time.

Well, firebirds tend to give bad luck to the people around them.

I'd say they were pretty unlucky too.

They were lucky to have met you.

Not all of them.

You keep dwelling on whether people like you and listen to you, but all this time you still haven't acknowledged them.

What?

The words of those you love.

...Ah.

They think you matter. They think they were lucky to have met you. Isn't that enough?

...Yeah. Yeah. You're right, Caliose. Thank you.

What value lies in the remains of a firestorm?

The memories. The flame has traveled far and wide, and leaves behind a mark in their wake. They have illuminated the world, if only for a brief glimpse, trailing along with none a goal but to "live". In that process they pass on the torch. They live through those cursed to remain and remember. They live vicariously and it's the brightest they have shone - their life so unremarkable, yet their legacy too devastating to leave behind. The cycle continues.

The emotions. Anger is what marks his name, etched into nightmares of the west wind. It comes from the soul, the bottom of his heart, to all those willing to ask and listen. He's tried to speak, he's tried to sing, he's tried to tell people that arguing is just a waste of time for those who demand the last laugh. He gets swept up in the storm and thus opts to walk away instead. People disappoint him. The one who matters ends up taking all the blame.

The promises. That's all he ever was. That's all he's ever lived for. He has to stay alive if only to keep his end of a deal. At times he wonders if he really gave himself a choice, but he's terrified of the answer so he shuts his thoughts away. Turns his head from the ruins of the blaze. His truths come out with his oaths because he bares his heart to express the few things he wants. Now he's inadvertently shackled them with his obsessions.

Zephyren never needed value.

He just n-n-nn-ne needed, n no, ww w wanted a

.

.

.

Entry 1. After the clown and the guy that shot their back.

Saw Caliose recently. Wasn't she supposed to be dead? Hezalea said so herself. I'll look into this. Might be interesting. Faked her death, maybe? It doesn't seem like she's hurting anyone. Just hangs out with this one guy more than usual.

Entry 2. After the fiesta fiasco.

At this point I'm sure it's not her. Not sure how it happened but it doesn't hurt to find out. She seems... like a husk of sorts. Yet, she's getting better at being her, in some ways. God, I feel like a creep just tailing this girl but can't I just solve a good mystery for once? Also, Saffr Zephyren is onto me. I think. But then he started talking about favours and whatnot and how I won't get closer to Caliose just because I'm near him? I mean, I know that. I wouldn’t expect anything from anyone. It's also a bit awkward because I've never really spoken to this guy before, let alone one-on-one. We’re definitely on varied wavelengths. Same friend group, different topics of discussion. Oh. And I guess we're eating Pho now.

Entry 3. After the dinosaurs and delirium.

Zeph’s been avoiding Caliose - and probably for good reason. I can tell that much. It never feels good to see two friends essentially drift apart though. I thought they were close. A nagging feeling tells me they were so much more, but their gazes never really aligned, did they. He doesn’t look her in the eye. It’s messed up. How is Zeph coping with this? Which version of her is he really friends with, anyway? Wish I could ask. Instead we just meet up and he asks me for help with designing some part of a glyph. I’ve watched The Owl House, I know how those work. Lylith does have some strange books at home but I won’t base it too much on existing occult stuff. My sister loves collecting that stuff.

Entry 4. After the tale and the blood.

We were studying. And then we weren’t. Had I always just fallen asleep like that? That can’t be. Either way it’s strange because he’d rarely just leave anyone there - he’d chide them for leaving their stuff unattended first and foremost. He diverted the topic with stargazing. …Guess he doesn’t want to talk about it.

At the end of the day I don’t know him well enough to ask anything meaningful. I…I don’t think he’d like me very much if he knew any more. I can’t just accept some whim-driven words - our friendship is at stake and I would never want to see it die before it starts. Please. 

Entry 5. After the clone and the mouse.

He needs to understand first. He looks up to me - well, he is shorter than me - but he doesn’t realize that I’m far from a good person. Zeph talks about promises and doing the right thing all the time, but I doubt a majority of my decisions back then were right, nor did I even think about the consequences of shirking my promises. In my efforts to minimize pain, I realized I was just doing it for the sake of my ability to fall asleep each night. For the longest time I’ve run from my problems, but they always manage to catch up and claw at me. Why is he even asking whether I’ve done anything horrible? He seems to know the answer already. Why does he still stick around, then?

I have too many things to worry about right now. Hezalea refuses to tell me anything and the people around me are all slowly changing. Did I mention how Luciole vanished for a month? The studio class isn’t big - it’s easy to notice when one person out of the dozen of us has gone MIA. In my spare time I’ve taken up the violin. It calms my nerves just a little.

Entry 6. After the feast.

I wonder if shapeshifters and skinwalkers really exist. “Caliose” strives blindly for a goal she doesn’t believe in, and I start to wonder why she does that in the first place. She could live peacefully on her own. She has identity cards, documentation, all the nitty gritty information one needs to prove their own existence. Though I guess I understand how painful it might be to live without a direction, but sometimes you just have to live in the present instead. Don’t think about what you’ll do in 20 years. Focus on what you’re doing now and whether you want to keep doing this. I just… don’t understand why Zephyren won’t let go if he already knows she isn’t the real Caliose. He loved her a lot - it’s obvious now, but this reads more as obsession, and I can’t let him get any closer if that’s the fate that awaits us too. With how easily he backs down, he’d doom us.

My sketchbook is filled with drawings of wings and fire and mythical birds nowadays. Been trying to think of a good birthday gift - as much as I keep talking about distance, I still do want to give him something. At the end of it all he’s still a good friend.

Entry 7. After the late-night games.

Why is he so surprised to find out people do care about his day? I know he’s always been guarded - in fact I understand how it feels - but isn’t it a common courtesy to ask what he’s been up to? Of course I know he’s doing some under-the-table stuff outside of school, but he ought to be better at relieving suspicion. Come on, get better at hiding your expressions when someone talks about the Trump assassination. While most people would react to that news in some way, your reaction just screams “oops”. Though, for once I don’t want to pry into what he’s been so desperate to hide. It’s very unlike me, isn’t it? I don’t know when that changed. I don’t know how much I’ve changed. Hezalea refuses to tell me. In fact she’s planning to move elsewhere. There’s no problem with that, I just get the sinking feeling that she’s going to jump headfirst into situations again and end up in even worse circumstances.

How well do I know myself? How well do I know my friends in comparison? Did I even realize I was putting up a mask in front of Zeph? Well, part of me was quite aware, but I didn’t know it was that bad. Maybe, just maybe part of the culpability fell on me for not being more honest. But that’s for the best- stop that. I probably started pointing out his flaws just so less attention would fall on me. This stuff is a two-way street. Surprise, surprise. I’ll tell him soon. I swear.

He likes the gift. I’m happy.

Entry 8. After the purge.

Had originally scheduled a jamming session, but the moment Zeph opened the door I knew something was up. His hair was matted on his face, and as I pulled back the hood I nearly fainted at the sight of what I thought were bloody entrails of- anyway. He didn’t look great - I mean, he’s cool and cute and all but I meant ‘not great’ as in extremely under the weather. I’m afraid all his hair will just fall off if I don’t untangle it strand by strand. I’m afraid I’ll hurt him somehow. Am I even supposed to be doing this? It seems way too intimate - wouldn’t his parents be a better option? Does he have parents? God, I don’t even know what his home life is like. He never talks about his past. I guess… I’ve never really done that, either.

Zeph’s music is… melancholy, but strong. The way different people play the same song says a lot about them. I can’t really explain why, but there’s still a level of restraint that he holds towards himself as he plays. The strongest beats could be so much stronger if he stopped burdening himself with the fear of messing up. Things happen. What’s the point if you don’t do enough to even give yourself the chance to make mistakes and learn? He stops playing and he looks at me. Flinches because the movement jostles his hair. We share eye contact through a mirror instead. He speaks to me.

He often goes on… jobs.

He meets all kinds of people there. They all find a way to get on his nerves but somehow he’s still the least agitated person there.

He gets into situations. He swears he never wanted to. He knows he’s implicit in the murders anyway.

There is a man named Jacob Cruz. I’ve heard of him - I’ve seen the news. Zephyren is hesitant to speak of him. Did he hurt him? No, that is not a look of spite or pain. He simply isn’t sure what he thinks of the man anymore. I don’t really understand it, but maybe he’ll tell me more about it later on. All I can say is, I envy him. I wonder what side of Zephyren he gets to see. I wonder how much of Zeph's hurt and happiness stems from him. God, why am I beefing with a stranger?

In return I tell him about myself. I’ve never killed a person with my own hands but I might as well have, having been the brains behind it all. I didn’t choose to be in that position either - if I had a choice between that life and this one, the answer is obvious.

He gets up to drink some water, and ends up doing a cool little magic trick before the glass falls to the floor. What was that about? I’ll ask him to do the trick again later, that was pretty interesting. Or… I can figure out the trick myself and surprise him with it next time.

Zephyren’s state of mind is too fragile to handle with my bare hands. He passes out and I hardly know what to do besides basic first aid. I’m terrified. It seems like exhaustion, but what if it’s more than that. Well… he did say he was tired. I bring him to the couch and Pancake keeps him company. Maybe he’s hungry? I’ll make some food. I wonder if he’s good at cooking too. I would’ve wanted to cook together, but that’ll be for another time. It’s past sunset now.

We watch a movie. I glue my eyes to the screen. Why don’t I want him to catch me staring? Why is it so wrong to look at him? I’ll think about that later.

For now, it’s warm, and that’s enough for me.

Entry 9. After the last light.

He asked me to look after Pancake for a bit. Said it shouldn’t be for longer than a week. Signs say he’s headed for another job, but I really hope not. Maybe he’s just going on a roadtrip with a friend. Maybe it’s a department-wide outing. Maybe he’s visiting family. Every time I see the nametag on the collar, his name catches my eye. I should tell him before I can’t.

.

.

.

Hey, Caliose?

Hm?

I... I lived. I tried, anyway.

You did.

I'm sorry I couldn't live a little longer-

Don't say that, it's not always in your control. 

I- ...right.

You did a lot better than I have.

Damnit...

Zephyren, it was never meant to be an obligation. Just a request.

Your little 'request' fucks people up, y'know.

I know that now.

Were you watching?

It's not my place to.

Did you know all along anyway?

Know what?

That I'd keep going just because you told me to.

No.

Then why did you say it?

I didn't know what else I could do. How much is an 18 year old orphan supposed to know?

18? Aren't you, like, 20 now?

Zeph, tell me where we are.

...No.

Zeph.

There's no way.

Zephyren, I never left Japan. You have to know this.

I- I didn't-

I never had the chance to. I tried to say goodbye to her. I should've known why she was so against it in the first place.

Caliose, I- oh my god... 

Did... did you not know?

I swear I did. I don't know why I stuck around her for so long. I promise I never crossed any lines I wouldn't ever do that I'm just stupid I swear, the only time I did anything remotely 'intimate' was to divert some thugs' attention but even then I didn't-

Zephyren. Zephyren Sangris.

She fucking insisted on taking the same last name too-

I believe you.

Everyone in my life just kept lying to me, I was afraid even Koriol would leave and turn out to be a skinwalker someday-

You're safe now.

I don't know if I can ever fall asleep again.

You won't need to.

...What?

You're dead.

I... I know that. But I have to go back-

Rest.

Jacob's gonna do something stupid again-

Then let him. People do stupid things all the time.

I can't just let him throw away everything I've tried to tell him-

I'm sure he remembers. All you can do is trust him.

I don't- I can't- I don't want to, Caliose. I can't do it. I can't keep letting people just step all over the promises I try to make because it's more convenient for them. I hate it. I hate it so much why did it have to be me. It didn't have to be me. I wish it were-

You don't wish that.

Try me-

You don't want that. You're not that kind of person.

THEN WHAT THE FUCK AM I, CALIOSE?!

You're kind.

I'm weak.

Are you really still letting that archaic mentality get to you?

It's just a fact.

You were the strongest person there, and I know it.

How would you know? You've never cared to look.

I trust you.

You shouldn't have. I hung out with your doppelganger for who knows how long.

Because you cared about me. You couldn't let go of the small chance that it really was me.

You don't know that.

I believe it anyway.

This is why you're dead.

...

...I am... so sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I didn't mean it.

I mean... you're not wrong.

Sometimes the truth is better left unsaid.

I'd rather you be honest anyway.

...Fuck.

You're Zephyren, and Zephyren doesn't wish death upon people this easily.

I hated it... I hated it so much, Caliose. I'd really rather just be dead than have to be the mediator. I did one hell of a job too. I tried to take a more active role but their voice grated at my ears. Even when I'm not the problem I end up getting yelled at anyway I hate it. For once Jacob didn't do anything bad - he was just hounded on because he was the one who happened to kill those exploding creatures. So of course I'd try to defend a friend. But no. 

It's so frustrating. It's unfair. I know damn well I tried much harder to do so much more and the one time I actually have the courage to step up it turns out I've made a grave mistake.

People don't hear me when I initially speak and my confidence dwindles and then I let opportunities slip my grasp. All my plans have gone awry and this is how the world repays me when I stop being a 'coward'. I've said it before. There's a difference between bravery and needless self destruction. I... I thought I stood a chance there. I shouldn't have.

The others try to apply human logic to everything but sometimes things are just out of our understanding. And when I try to point it out I get shot down. Damned if I do, damned if I don't. I'm tired of it, Caliose, I'm tired of being told I'm wrong for what I do and what I don't do, I'm tired of being told I'm wrong for being born this way and raised this way.

I don't want to play this game anymore. I just want to go back and tell the idiots I'm alive and laugh it off and just live the life that I was meant to live. I don't think I was ever meant for those jobs. I was never ambitious enough to change the world. I just... want to make something I could call my home. I wanted to stay. And now I've been left behind.

...You... did your best.

They drag me along and call me a bad person because of it. They try to dictate what I should and shouldn't do and it gets so annoying. I never wanted to be a bad person. Please. I just want to work with people like Jacob and Lily and Charlotte and HND-E and Oggi again. They knew what it meant to work together.

I want to see Koriol. I want to go back. Things weren't the best but I was never discontent, especially not in those last few months. I tried to live. I did what I wanted to do. I'm devastated that Pancake just keeps losing their owners. Of all the people who know what happened, Jacob's the only one who'd feel anything about it and I'm terrified of what he'll do because of it.

I don't know what to say about that. I guess... people move on. If that makes you feel better.

Not really.

You don't want them to move on?

If they did that so easily, then... what did I ever mean to them?

Oh dear.

...Y'know, when the Harbingers first asked what I wanted to become, I answered, "A phoenix."

That's fun.

I didn't think much of it, but somewhere along the way it seemed so achievable.

It is achievable, isn't it?

I...I don't know.

I wouldn't know either.

I wish you could've been there to see it. I could shoot firebirds from my palms.

I can imagine.

Caliose, did I live well enough?

That's for you to decide. Were you happy?

I was happy, if only for a few moments.

I'm glad. Maybe that's good enough.

I don't know. Some part of me has always wanted more. I realize that now.

Then strive for it.

I'm dead.

And so am I.

That... doesn't really mean much, does it? You're still here.

That's up for debate.

What's that supposed to mean?

No one really knows what happens in the afterlife. For all you know, you're just talking to an idea of me.

Don't do this to me, Caliose. Not again.

It's not for nothing. I guess you just... needed some form of closure with me. 

I don't want to be alone. But I don't want to live for the sake of other people again.

What's so wrong with that?

They make me do stupid things- well, they don't tell me to, but inevitably I want to do so much more for them. In a way this is why I stayed and fought too. If I didn't know anyone in that group too well I'd just run as fast as I could. Get the flying creatures. Forget Wells' animal mind control, I can talk to them too... probably. Just... anything to keep myself alive a little longer.

Would you forgive yourself if you did that this time?

...If Jacob died? Never.

There you go.

I guess... I've just never wanted to lump myself in with other people. Thought all I wanted was to do everything for myself. By myself.

You've always been a ball of contradictions. Everyone is.

You're right.

Do you believe in fate?

I don't know, but there sure are a lot of strange coincidences.

There are. And they'll only happen if you never stop moving forward.

You're cursing me again.

Because you want to be.

You've got me there. What happens if I can't find anything after a thousand years?

Your brain would probably be too eroded to think anything of it at all.

That's hardly comforting.

You wouldn't know by then.

That's how the bird flies, I guess.

Yep.

...Hey.

Yeah?

In the end... was I a firebird or a phoenix?

Would you care for my answer?

I'll take anything I get.

You wanted to be a phoenix. So, you're a phoenix.

Just because I wanted to be?

There's nothing stopping you from wanting.

Is there, now?

You'll always be what you make of yourself. Not what others say about you, not what people define a 'firebird' or a 'phoenix'.

Doesn't change the fact that I've had very bad luck this whole time.

Well, firebirds tend to give bad luck to the people around them.

I'd say they were pretty unlucky too.

They were lucky to have met you.

Not all of them.

You keep dwelling on whether people like you and listen to you, but all this time you still haven't acknowledged them.

What?

The words of those you love.

...Ah.

They think you matter. They think they were lucky to have met you. Isn't that enough?

...Yeah.

Gggg

Rah

Blah

Wrwaokd okawokd sakf dla kfdfjmfkjsdfjaskmfnkd namnfmsl

I feel so sigma

I love email I want to sit at a desk for 8 hours a day 5 dyas a week and email people nad get emails bakvck and have no meaninguful information exchange hands

What if I went sicko mode. What then. Who would stop me. Nobody wants me dead so like I can always come back willoe applteon

Grahhhhh

Alone in a world with millions of souls walking in circles trapped in our dreams unhealthy unclean

I watched Arcane the other day it was pretty good I like the transhumanism guy but tbh he should've been a frog rather than a bobot

I'm crashing out dawg istg

FUCK OFF MAN I WAS SUPPOSED TO GO TO UNI AND HAVE A NORMAL LIFE AND A GIRLFRIEND WHAT THE FUCK WENT WRONG

I feel so sigma I feel so sigma I feel so sigma I feel so sigma I feel so sigma I feel so sigma I feel so sigma I feel so sigma I feel so sigma I feel so sigma I feel so sigma I feel so sigma I feel so sigma I feel so sigma I feel so sigma I feel so sigma I feel so sigma I feel so sigma I feel so sigma I feel so sigma I feel so sigma I feel so sigma I feel so sigma I feel so sigma I feel so sigma I feel so sigma I feel so sigma I feel so sigma I feel so 

It burns. It stings. God, why did I think this was a good idea? I mean, this wasn't much different from last time but 'last time' was a few years ago. I had longer hair, Caliose was helping, we were in Japan, just within reach of better supplies. How else would the red have stayed this long?

好痛

好痛好痛好痛好痛好痛好痛好痛好痛好痛好痛好痛好痛好痛好痛好痛好痛好痛好痛 WHATEVER! I'LL GET THROUGH THIS.

The whole process takes a while. Had to lock myself in the bathroom with the ventilation on. My head is spinning from the smell of bleach. It burns at my sinuses. My eyes are watering and red. Red. Red. Red.

Won't be able to tell if I'm bleeding once I'm done with this. 

Good thing about crimson dye is that you don't need platinum hair. A few levels brighter and I'm set. Full-head bleaching is still a pain. 

The box lies on its side, torn asunder. I should've prepared a bowl for this. Fuck that, I'll just squeeze it from the tube. Fingers don't move correctly. How long have I been stuck here? Sink is ruined. Hair... silky smooth? Is there still bleach in there? Wash it off more. Must've spent an hour in the shower. This is why I prefer to use baking soda to clean stuff. 

Why am I bleaching myself now?

Do I think it'll make me any cleaner? Of course not.

Hurts to comb my hair. I let it air dry a bit, then blast it with the hairdryer. Highest setting. It burns. If a hairstylist saw me do this they'd have a stroke. 

Squeeze the red onto my hair. Probably eats into my scalp. I don't have to know. Just distribute it evenly. Rest. Clean up. Rest again. I want to fall asleep - it's always in the middle of the day when I get the urge. At night I'm wide awake. At night I think clearly enough. Yet in my delirium I'd end up spilling everything I know.

Unfair exchanges. Ha. It's always been like this.

God, I might be drunk from the vapours.

Knock at the door. I sit up from the toilet - it's my chair. No more space for an actual chair. 

If I'm quiet and if Pancake knows to be quiet, they'll think I'm not home. 

Another knock. Argh. I cover my ears. 

"Zeph?" 

Koriol. Right, he was coming over today, wasn't he? Forgot. Lost track of time. 

Put my hood over my head. Wince. I'll wash it later. Leave the bathroom. Open the front door. Blonde man, green eyes, brown coat and violin case. I nod and step aside. He looks bewildered, but he comes in. Close the door. Lock. He places down his violin case in the quickest yet gentlest way possible - slides it onto the table and his hands move to my hood. Too slow to stop him. Too tired. Too delirious. I'm not usually like this. Something's wrong with me.

"Are you... Bleeding?" He holds my face in his hands now. They're warm. I flinch when his fingers ghost over my hair. 

"I'm dyeing."

A flash of worry crosses his constant smile and he leans in. "It doesn't smell like blood." What the fuck, Koriol. "...Oh. Dye? Like, hair dye?"

Try to nod. Hurts. "...Yes."

"Oh my goodness, you could've asked me to help or something." I look away. "Zeph, it's been a while since I last saw you but it's like years have passed since then."

"Cha cha, very smooth-"

Koriol's face reddens. Anger? Something else? "No, like, you're drastically different. Worse for wear. Like you've been through a war or something."

Could I really call it that? It was very one sided. We decimated that town. "Oh."

"Don't just 'oh' me, something clearly happened, did it not?"

"...Sure."

"Okay, well, first of all how long has the dye been there?" I shrug. Koriol purses his lips and grabs my hand. Pulls me to the bathroom sink and washes the dye off. I close my eyes. "Tell me if it hurts. Or like, pat my hand or something."

Does it hurt? I can't tell. It just tingles now. Koriol treats me like porcelain right now. How demeaning. But I still feel like I'm going to shatter if he's any less careful. It's all a blur, a fever dream, feels like I've blacked out and suddenly I'm sat down by the window wide open. Is he going to kill me? Push me from who knows how many floors up? No one would suspect a thing. Jacob'll make sure of that. These two are working together, I'm sure of it-

Fingers gently comb through my hair. "I'm not blow-drying it. That'll just kill your hair at this point."

I sigh and close my eyes again. Sit back. Try to think of something else - something other than the way Koriol carefully and meticulously works through all the tangles. How does he know anything about hair? ...He's got nice hair. I remember that much.

"Oh. Also, uh... Sorry. I should've asked if I could do this first."

I hum. Doesn't matter. It's always easier to ask forgiveness, isn't it. 

There's still a dull pain at the back of my head. I still smell the bleach. I probably smell horrible. Why is he still here? Why does he stay? Why does he refuse to admit that I'm just not a good person to hang around in general? Why would he take all this time out of his day to-

Something cold touches my hand. Harmonica. 

"Thought you could use a distraction."

That I do. ...Man.

He knows too much.

Pancake lies down right at my feet. 

"Didn't know you had a dog."

"Now you do."

"You're right. What's their name?"

"Pancake." Their ears perk up. "A rescue."

"Huh." Hands card gently through my hair and I jolt away. It stings. "Sorry." My eyes sting too. I'm sorry too.

When can I stop bottling it up? When can I finally tell him? He's going to ask so many questions. He'll probably berate me for not stepping away sooner. He'll point out all my mistakes - all the ones I'm aware of, all the ones I'm not. And I can't do anything about it because it's the plain old truth. I hate this. I feel like a horrible person - I am a horrible person. I'm fucking selfish. I think about what not to do and do that exact thing because I'm reckless and no amount of logic will overcome it. I just wanted something to look forward to. I swear I tried my best to keep myself as intact as I could. I wanted to live. I had to live. I'm trying. I've learned. I've realized. Can't change the past but it's not like I want to repeat it either. There are so many things he has to know - he thinks I'd hate him if I really knew him but that's the thing - I already hate myself, there's no room to really hate anyone else.

It's tiring.

I'm tired, Koriol.

"So am I," he whispers.

The sky is darker now. Afterglow of a sunset. This debacle took a day. He holds up a mirror. Crimson. Full head of crimson hair. Part of me missed this. Nostalgic. First time I ever ran. Maybe I'm running again. Is that bad?

I vaguely recall saying a lot of things. My throat is dry. Get a glass of water from the sink. Koriol stops me and tells me to boil it first. Where was he from, again? Taps in Canada are generally safe. ...Though I do usually use the kettle. I'm too lazy this time around. Without breaking eye contact I light a piece of paper on fire and hold it under the glass. It slips from my fingers. Shatters. Water everywhere. Douses the flame. I pass out. Haven't eaten in a while, I guess. Couldn't sleep well either.

I dream of skinwalkers. I dream of fire melting skin and only skin itself. Everything else is wrong. It's all so, so wrong. 

Wake up. Sky is dark outside. I'm on the couch. Pancake is curled up on top of my stomach. Noises from the kitchen. Glass of water and plates of food on the coffee table. Dim light so I wasn't immediately blinded. Shards have been cleaned. Why?

Why are you doing so much for me?

I'm a murderer.

...And you, as well.

Birds of a feather, aren't we. What a joke. I've never believed in that stuff. 

Here we are, anyway, sitting at the coffee table. The food was good. I'll clean it later. Insisted on it. Koriol has done enough.

My computer takes up some space. We're watching a movie. Pancake has moved to sleep on my bed. Fine. 

I shiver. Get up to find a blanket. Curl up. He laughs.

"Bird burrito."

Can't find the energy to respond so I stare at the screen. 

My eyes drift to Koriol every now and then, anyway. He looks very focused on the movie.

Can't wait to hear his thoughts on it. A good debate afterwards would be nice. He's passionate. A talker. I like people who have a passion - it's almost like they're glowing. Ever so curious about the world. Wish I could say the same for myself. Or maybe not. I don't know.

At some point my hands brush against his when I get up to refill some water. Cold. I offer to share the blanket when I return. He doesn't object.

Can't remember what the movie was.

All I know is warmth.