The definition of an enemy is “a friend without boundaries.” That may not be strictly true, I only came up with it just now, but it’s the definition I’ll adopt until I come up with something better. I think it works; the basis of any good relationship are the ground rules. When you greet a friend, they wouldn’t respond by firing a revolver into your forehead. No violence; that’s one of the boundaries of friendship. Just like no stealing, no lying, and no badmouthing. Those boundaries may be broken in some cases, but they’re often quickly mended. However—for the time since the boundary is broken, up until the moment you make amends, that person is not your friend. That person has made themself your enemy.

The morning after the incident with the silver chromatic beast, I contacted my friends. Namely, Bunny and Rose. Me and Rose decided to trade off custody of Bunny between our places on a weekly basis. Since it’s her week to be a responsible parent, I had a good opportunity to set a boundary with the two of them through text.

“For the next week, I want to be by myself. Reach out only if there’s an emergency; like if Bunny gets lost or they invent a new kind of donut.”

A very innocuous request, one that anyone might make after a period of undue stress. Though my wording was gentle, my message was clear—”If you talk to me within the next seven days without a damn good reason to, you have made yourself my enemy.”

I might not expect Bunny to read between the lines like that, but I trust Rose to. Actually, sometimes Rose overlooks the “lines” themselves, but I digress. No need to think about Rose for now. This is my off-season.

I scratched Leo’s fuzzy grey belly and played with his ears. He’s been the perfect little gentleman in the time I’ve known him, only occasionally screaming for no reason or vomiting into my sneakers. He might be the best friend I have right now.

The arduino abominations in my bedroom are also my friend. They’ve been helping me to unwind a lot. I still don’t know why I keep buying them, or why I build things for no reason, or how I keep forgetting what they do: but it’s a hell of a stress reliever to plug random alligator clips into random chips and boards. It’s getting really hard to traverse my room. Any path I had from door to bed has been buried under useless junk that I can’t bring myself to get rid of. Maybe I’ll start sleeping on the couch while Bunny isn’t here.

When it turned late, I settled into a nice hot bath for the first time in a while. When was the last time I did this? I tried scrying through the steam clouds wafting above me to no avail. I believe I was thinking about Rose at the time. That she may or may not be a dangerous person to those around her. But I distinctly remember calling her a “friend” in my head. I suppose we’ll see how true that really is this week.

After the water in my tub lost its heat, and my splashing hid from me foreboding noises downstairs that I really needed to hear, I decided I would lumber to bed. Maybe I could just sleep here, but I’m not enough of a badass to try. After putting on my pajamas and brushing my teeth, I stumbled through the dark stairway and collapsed face-first into my couch. There were two blankets wrapped up into a ball. I threw them both onto the floor and began unraveling them, huffing and puffing at my past self’s arrogance. Why should I have to be the one to do this, and not her? Was I really in such a rush today, anyways? I don’t remember doing anything important. I felt my hand pull a clump of white fur out of the blankets.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

I turned the light on. I expected to see Leo’s fur, but no.

This was something else’s fur.

Having learned my lesson from last time this happened, I decided to check on everything. This time, there was no sign of Bunny anywhere. If she was in my kitchen I would have seen her, since I'm downstairs this time. I comedically checked the cabinets, behind the curtains, between the couch cushions—nothing. (Though I did find more mysterious white fluff stuffed in the couch.)

I recognize that finding unexpected hair or fur does not logically equate to having home invaders, but my paranoia ended up being correct anyways.

On my stairs, standing with her arms resting on the handrail, was Biologist. Her pale green hair looked just unnatural enough to give an unmistakably human aura. Of course, she wasn't really a typical human. She was only a few months old, although her appearance would suggest she was middle aged. As I'm sure you remember, she was one of the nine beasts created to kill me. Though she seems much less interested in acting on that quest than when I first met her, the thought alone makes me suspicious.

Well, also the part about breaking into my home. That's suspicious too.

Before I could ask any of the one hundred things I wanted to ask her, she began speaking unprompted with a slight grin.

"This is okay, right? You're fine with seeing me, I mean. I'm not breaking any rules."

"No, I assure you, this is breaking several rules."

"But not any rules that you set. You told your friends—Rose and Bunny—they weren't allowed to see you for a while. You didn't say that to me, though. So I came to ask you: is it that you don't consider me a friend, or rather, do you consider me a friend with special privileges?"

It's true, I never specifically said she wasn't allowed to see me. I didn't set that boundary with her.

"Okay, I'm seeing the legal loophole here, but you really shouldn't enter people's houses without asking first."

"For the sake of our blossoming friendship, I can accept that rule. But I would like to propose a rule in return."

"You're being weirdly aggressive right now. I swear, you act differently every time I see you."

"Here's the rule: if one of us sees something concerning, we will share it. No turning a blind eye, no trying to forget it. If you see something suspicious, speak up, and I will do the same."

"I'm glad you said that, I've actually noticed something concerning lately."

"Oh, really? Then please, allow me to hear it."

"Weirdos keep barging into my home. Think there's anything I can do to stop them?"

"Simple—hide your keys better."

She tossed down the spare key I keep outside. Damn it. After the doormat plan failed, I bought a fake rock to put the key inside. Now I want my money back.

"Mina, I also saw something that concerns me. It's not about you, rather, it's about Rose—"

"Nope! Nopenopenope. I've had enough of her for a while. Come back to me after the friend-ban is up. Bye!"

I got back into the nice couch-bed I made, hoping whatever situation there was would work itself out without me.

It wouldn't.