“Should we try waking them up?”

Fuego kneels down alongside their head, and Adderall takes her place beside ven. The acrid stench of sickness swirls around their heads, and the bitter smell of rotting wood takes hold beneath their legs. Ikimono, king of the decay, lies motionless by a drying puddle of pale green.

“They’re not asleep,” Fuego replies.

“I know that, I just mean at least, like, getting them to start breathing before they start growing mold.”

Fuego brushes a lock of their hair away from their cheek and finds earthy black dots peppering their face. “I think we’re a bit late for that.”

Adderall’s eyes glow in wonder. “Really? Can I see?”

She slides over to Fuego and leans in to examine Ikimono. She reaches out a hand, but when ve gives her a look of disapproval, she draws it back.

“What do you think it is?” She asks.

“Just a bit of black mold,” ve shrugs. “Probably nothing more.”

“Isn’t black mold just something you find in walls?”

“Yeah. I don’t know how they’d end up with it growing on them like this. Unless this isn’t, but you don’t see growths like this with anything else.”

“Maybe it was grafted on?”

A deep put opens in Fuego’s stomach. “Grafted? Adderall, who’d do that?”

“I dunno. Maybe why would be the better question.”

Fuego thumbs at the spots on their face. “They’re in there tight.”

Adderall nods. “Grafted.”

“Adderall.”

“What? I’m just saying black mold doesn’t grow on people.”

“I’m gonna check what this is. Maybe it’s not black mold.”

Purple haze floats from the palms of vens hands, rippling through the bandages and flowing over to the splotches of black. Spores float into the mist, and at once the sinking feeling plummets deeper and deeper into vens gut.

“It’s black mold. It has to be. But I don’t want to think about someone grafting that colony on Ikimono.”

Adderall picks up Ikimono’s hand. “It’s on their hands, too.”

Fuego grimaces. Ve doesn’t want to take vens eyes away from Ikimono’s face.

Ikimono’s sleeve falls down off their wrist. In the dim light, Adderall makes out a faint pattern on their skin. Carefully, she pulls back their cardigan sleeve.

“Oh, goodness,” she mutters.

“Adderall?”

“Fuego, this isn’t flesh. It’s fabric.”

Ve hesitantly turns their head away from the first patch of mold to look at their arm. Amidst the green of their flesh and the black of the mold is a patch of red adorned with white paisleys, neatly stitched into their arm with stained thread.

Adderall lays Ikimono’s arm in Fuego’s. The pit in vens stomach slowly turns into an ache in vens heart. Ve traces vens fingers over the stitchings where fabric meets skin, wondering if the graft ever hurt them. Little sparks of green glimmer from vens fingers, but ve is slow to direct them. When ve finally starts outlining the stitches with them, vens hands shake.

“Who would do this?” Fuego whispers, “I don’t know Ikimono too well, but I’d think you’d have to do something really bad to earn something like this.”

“I still wonder why,” Adderall replies, reaching into her bag. “You want some lavender?”

Fuego nods. Adderall takes a jar of violet oil from her bag and dots a little on vens wrist. Ve rubs vens wrists together and holds one to vens face.

“Maybe this has something to do with that room we were in down in Sunshine’s domain,” she continues. “You know, the one with all the sewing stuff and the table?”

Fuego looks back down at Ikimono. “I refuse to believe someone would use them as a patchwork.”

“Think about the dolls we saw. Maybe Ikimono’s one of them.”

“No. They can’t be. Look at their skin, it’s all together, homogenous. This fabric isn’t just sewn on, it’s sewn in.”

Fuego tugs at the stitches a little, and in a little gap between fabric and flesh they find a patch of muscle, twisting and pulsing.

“My goodness, you’re right. But the mold, that can’t be their own skin.”

“Black mold isn’t strong enough to support wood, let alone something like flesh. When you poke your finger through a rotten board, it collapses. And besides…”

Fuego gently lifts up Ikimono’s right arm. Their fingers are stripped clean of skin, leaving behind callused muscle for finger pads.

“You can’t graft this. This is them.”

“I wonder if it’s just their arms.”

Fuego covers their fingers in the green glitter, and slowly their skin starts to grow back. “I’d bet it isn’t. I don’t know if I want to find out. They hardly know us, y’know?”

“You’re our healer. I’m sure if they knew, they wouldn’t mind.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

Fuego looks at Adderall, then at Ikimono. “No. I can’t do it. I won’t do it. I’ll heal what I can see, but no more. Unless they ask, of course.”

“Then wake them up.”

“Alright, then. As you wish.”

Fuego snaps vens fingers, and a golden rose conjures in the palm of his uninjured hand. Ve rolls Ikimono’s head into vens lap and holds the rose to his face. Slowly, Ikimono’s eyes flutter open. Fuego smiles and takes his hand away from Ikimono.

“Nan toshi buri desu ka?” They slur.

“What?” Fuego asks.

“Nan toshi…”

“What happened?” Adderall suggests, “How long?”

Ikimono nods. “How many…how many…years…?”

“Years?” Adderall smiles, “It’s only been a couple hours!”

“Nan ji desu ka?”

“They’re just coming to, let them be,” Fuego says. “They’ll need a couple minutes to think in common again.”

Ikimono rolls over and buries their head in Fuego’s stomach. Fuego gently drapes vens arms over them.

“I fixed your fingers up for you if you don’t mind,” Fuego says, “Your fabric graft, too.”

“Arigatou gozaimasu,” Ikimono mutters, “Kurushii, takusan na kurushii.”

Fuego pats Ikimono’s back awkwardly. Ve hasn’t a clue what they’re saying, and something tells ven Adderall doesn’t know either. Suddenly, Fuego feels a warm wetness against vens stomach. Ve figures Ikimono is just crying.

“Oh, it’s alright,” Ve says, rubbing their back, “It’s ok, let it out. You’ve been up here for a while, it’s evening now. I’m sure you’re confused, and that’s ok. You’re ok, Ikimono.”

Ikimono rolls away from Fuego’s embrace and sits up on the floor with the pair. They take one look at Fuego’s stomach and look at the ground in shame. Fuego looks down, and at once ve knows why Ikimono turned away. They weren’t crying, they were bleeding.

“My apologies,” Ikimono starts, “Boku wa- I don’t cry, I- namida ga nakinai, chi, chi ga nakimasu- no tears, blood.”

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Ikimono curls up into themselves and Adderall quickly jumps to their aid. She takes the vial of oil back out from her bag and holds it out in front of Ikimono. They meekly look up from their sorrow in curiosity.

“Smell it,” she says, “It’ll calm you down some.”

Hesitantly, Ikimono leans in to smell the vial. They take in a small breath, then let out a sigh. Adderall nods in approval.

“It’s lavender,” she beams, “If you hold out your wrists, I’ll give you some.”

She takes Ikimono’s hand and holds it out in front of her. She dabs a bit of oil on them, then caps the vial. She rubs her wrists together, and Ikimono mirrors her movement. She lifts her wrists to her face, and Ikimono does the same. They sit back a little when the smell hits their sinuses.

“Do you want something you can work with your hands?” She offers. “Maybe something to chew on? Music? I’ve got all seven senses covered in my bag.”

“Tabe-” they pause, “Something to taste would be nice.”

“Something to taste? Sounds good! What do you like?”

“Whatever you see first is fine.”

“Whatever I see first? Got it!”

She rummages around in her bag, occasionally taking out some odd contraption or tin of goo for better visibility. Her expression brightens up, and she hands Ikimono a little orange candy wrapped in clear plastic.

“It’s butterscotch,” she explains, handing them the candy. “It’s a very smooth flavor. You’ll love it!”

Ikimono unwraps the candy and puts it in their mouth. The soft, buttery flavor is completely foreign, but certainly not unpleasant. They click the sweet disk against their teeth, sliding it across their tongue to savor the sweetness.

“It’s very good,” they say, tucking the candy between their teeth and cheek, “Thank you.”

“Don’t worry about it. I always keep something on hand because we never know when someone will go down and out with panic or overstim. We all look out for each other like that, but I’m the keeper of the sensory bag.”

Ikimono cocks their head to the side. “Overstim?”

“Overstimulation. Like, when there’s too much going on, be it noise, textures, smells, and you start breaking down or shutting down.”

Ikimono tries remembering what that sort of thing feels like. “I’m not good with shut spaces. Is that overstim?”

“On its own? No, I think that’s just claustrophobic.”

“Oh. Ok.”

The three sit in comfortable silence for a couple minutes. Ikimono wonders if they’re the reason why.

“Can you believe I’ve never had this, er, butterscotch before?”

“Never?” Adderall gasps.

“Nope.”

“Well, how is it?”

“I love it.”

“That’s good! There’s all sorts of things you can get with butterscotch. Candy, ice cream, cake, all good things have a butterscotch.”

Ikimono looks forlornly into the distance. What is it with these people and their food? They bond over snacks and treats, carry candy in their pockets, carry their next meal with concern in their mind. Did they never satisfy? Were they starved? Still though, the distant memory of fluffy pastries scratches at Ikimono’s brain like a dog begging for attention. Maybe they’re the hungry one.

“Ikimono?” Fuego asks.

“Yeah?”

“Before you went out, what’s the last thing you remember?”

They pause. “I was vomiting.”

“Do you remember why?”

Their gaze slowly turns to the noose dangling above them.

Their voice sounds distant. “It got to my windpipe this time. I couldn’t breathe.”

“It did? What did?”

Ikimono points at the noose. “That.”

Fuego looks up at the wire noose. If it weren’t for the stains of red at its base, it’d be invisible in the darkness. It looms overhead, always watching, and somehow indifferent to everything it sees. Ve wonders why one would hang gallows over a stage, but ve knows deep down the spectacle itself is good enough reason. Most circuses love their death-defying acts, but in a place without death, ve supposes there is no reason to defy it.

“I hang myself at the end of my act,” Ikimono explains, “That’s how it goes. It’s getting harder to do that now. It just goes deeper and deeper in my neck.”

“Has that ever happened before?”

“No. I’m worried that if it keeps happening Sunshine will find out.”

“So? He can put you in a different act, and you won’t have to hang yourself anymore. Or he’ll let you stop doing it.”

Ikimono runs pale. They shake their head in terror.

“Fuego, you don’t understand. I have to hang myself.”

“You never have to do anything. He’ll understand if you stop.”

“With all due respect, I can’t just do that. He-”

Footsteps ring out from below them in the stage. Ikimono swallows the rest of the candy and reaches for their scarf. They frantically knot it around their throat, then rise to stand on shaky legs. Fuego follows suit, then Adderall. Ikimono puts their finger to their mouth to hush them. They reach for their puppets, and then start for the ribbon to climb down. Adderall wants to rush to Ikimono’s side, but Fuego holds their arm out to stop her advance. The two walk at a safe distance behind their friend.

When Ikimono slides down the ribbon, they take another look back up to the rafters. They find Adderall and Fuego looking down from the opening. They’re about to signal to them to come down when they’re suddenly interrupted by the clearing of a throat.

“Oh, Sunshine,” they squeak, “It’s good to see you.”

“What keeps you this long after the show?” Sunshine growls, “It’s far too late to be here, you know.”

“I passed out,” they admit, “The noose went in too deep, I’m afraid.”

“The noose went too deep? And it knocked you asleep?”

They nod.

Sunshine walks forward. From the rafters, Fuego and Adderall can only see his shadow cast against Ikimono and the curtain wall.

“You’d better be careful doing something like that. If I find you first, it won’t be a pleasant nap.”

“I know, I know. I can’t help being unconscious like that, though.”

“Then you’d better start finding better places to hide. If I start a game, you don’t want me to find.”

“You can’t just start a game of hide-and-seek without telling someone. It’s not fair.”

“If you be Mr. Hyde, I shall be Mr. Seek. If you wanted a fair game, then you’d stop being so meek.”

Some unknown courage takes root in Ikimono’s throat. Something in their mind wants to stop it, but the glow of their words forces past their better judgment. Maybe it’s because they know Fuego and Adderall are right above them, but they decide to take a stand for once.

They rise to meet Sunshine’s voice. “I don’t think it’s unreasonable of me to want a fair game.”

From the rafters, the shadow grows larger. Adderall snaps two pink orbs of light into her hands, but Fuego puts vens arm before her again. Ve hushes her and then leans over to see Ikimono better, vens tail twitching in anticipation.

“You play my games, you abide my ways. That’s the way it goes in this colorful maze.”

Ikimono takes a step back. Their courage is quickly faltering. “I just think the kinder thing to do would be to let me wake up myself.”

“Kinder? Creature, kindness means I don’t put you down. If you’re looking for your kindness, it will never be found.”

Ikimono hangs their head. “Yes, Sunshine. I’m sorry.”

“You ought to be glad I haven’t killed you already, but never mind that, there’s something more pressing. Answer me honestly and I’ll keep my word true.”

A sharp pain races through them, shocking them back to attention.

“Who was up in the rafters with you?”

Ikimono stands paralyzed in fear. They stare Sunshine in the eyes, and with a sudden sharpness their mind goes blank. They don’t dare break their stare to look upwards. A prickling of cold thoughts wants to rise into their mind, but Ikimono fights them off.

“Well? What have you to tell?”

The roots take hold again.

“Nobody.”

Sunshine looks genuinely puzzled. He tilts his head to one side, slowly tapping the orb on his cane. His mouth droops open as though he lost whatever words he wanted to say.

“Nobody, you say?” He asks.

“Nobody at all,” Ikimono says, holding their thoughts tight. “I got up, calmed myself down, and headed out.”

Sunshine doesn’t look like he can protest. “Alright then, if that’s what you pray.”

Ikimono can hardly believe it. Sunshine’s actually convinced. They can’t think about it too much, though. Perhaps his humor is already starting to change.

“And how do I know you’re not lying to me? How do I trust your innocent plea?”

Ikimono gives Sunshine a warm smile.

“Oh, Sunshine,” they laugh, “Why would I ever lie to you? You know me inside and out, you don’t even need to look at me to know what I’m feeling. I can’t get anything past you, so why even try?”

Sunshine seems satisfied. He nods and returns the grin.

“That’s a good creature, now run along to your car. You know where I’ll be, you know I’m never far.”

Sunshine turns and walks out of the stage and into the alcove. Ikimono watches him stride into the darkness with utter bewilderment. Their hands shake, their legs feel like they’re going to break like balsa wood, but they still stand. When at last the feeling of Sunshine’s departure fills their chest, they turn back to invite Adderall and Fuego down from the rafters.

“What’s his deal?” Adderall asks.

Ikimono grins nervously, clasping their hands together. “He’s rather fond of me.”

“Fond?” Fuego asks.

“Yeah, fond. He’s quite protective over people he loves. You know, imaginary friend instinct.”

Adderall and Fuego look at each other. They wonder if Ikimono’s being sarcastic.

“Are you sure?”

Ikimono’s voice flutters. “Yes, positive.”

The three stand in silence. None of them are convinced. Not even Ikimono. They slowly unclasp their hands and relax their shoulders. They let out a breath and turn their gaze back down to the alcove.

“I can’t believe it,” they begin, “I lied to him. I actually lied to him.”

“Yeah you did,” Fuego smiles.

“No, Fuego, you can’t just lie to Sunshine. He sees right through you. I swear, he can feel it in your thoughts that you’re lying. He’ll hold the truth over your head, too, he already knows what happened. And he believed me.”

“Maybe ‘cause he loves you?” Adderall mutters under her breath.

“He doesn’t trust me like that,” Ikimono continues, “I had to have been telling the truth to him. But I wasn’t, you two were up there with me. I’m going insane, I can feel it.”

Fuego laughs a little. “You’re not going insane, Ikimono, you lied well enough to be believed. I do stuff like that a lot.”

“You do? And people believe you?”

“Ok, technically since I’m a fairy I can’t lie-lie, but I can twist the truth just enough for people to believe me. See, it’s a skill, and just like any other skill it can be used against cops.”

“Wow.”

“And as a seasoned half-fibber, I can say with confidence you did a good job.”

Ikimono looks at Fuego in wonder. If Fuego isn’t ashamed of being a liar, then why would they be?

“Anyway, it’s getting late,” Adderall says, “DJ asked us to meet them and the rest of the group by the stage where all the food carts are again. Do you wanna come with?”

“Do you want me there?” Ikimono asks.

Fuego tosses vens arm over Ikimono’s shoulder, and Ikimono stumbles into his body. “We’d love you there! And I’m sure everyone else would love to hear how you lied to Sunshine.”

Ikimono can hardly believe it. For once, they’re a hero.

“Then I’ll come with you,” They grin.

“Good, good,” Fuego nods. “I was worried, we still don’t know the way around here well, and we’d probably get lost without you.”

“I’m glad to be your guide, then.”