An uneventful day settled down as a peaceful dusk oranged the sky, dimming.

For most, it was time for supper and reprieve after a full day of dutiful work. However, for Blossom it was hardly the end of her…workday. She was to work until midnight—only knowing when midnight was by eyeing the few clocks sprinkled around.

Truly, there was a reason why workdays began at sunrise and ended at sunset; such could be easily tracked with the eyes alone; such was the schedule of most villages and peasants, even if it meant that the actual hours worked varied depending on the seasons; it was natural and intuitive.

Nevertheless, Blossom’s night tasks so far were rather mundane even if…monotonous. She was essentially to complete that which had been left…uncompleted by day’s end—thus would vary from night to night.

Indeed, one thing Blossom had come to realize these past few many days of her…punitive schedule shift was that…House Berrybottom’s apparent staff shortage was worse than implied. Not to say it was completely terrible, but the quantity of hands available was noticeably less than what it had been prior to Summer’s Transition; things were left neglected, consequently.

Blossom yawned… as she strolled down this hall she had strolled down too many times this small month alone. She began to peer through the windows to her right as she walked, other footsteps maintaining pace behind.

It was now nearing a full week since those events in that personal library of this manor-estate had befallen; beaten up and interrogated after so naively following… Although Blossom was pretending as though such did not matter, neither the physical bruises obscured by her maid attire nor the scares left in her mind had healed completely.

Her already poor sleep had only become poorer, and she could not stand being in the same room as her fellows anymore. Although she would arrive to bed after midnight, the rest long being asleep, she still felt anxious and fearful sleeping in the same room as those other four…perpetrators. Moon, Burgundy, and…those other two—Black and Apple, though Blossom knew not their names.

Moon, at least, she had not seen much of since that day. Those other three, however… Blossom was doing everything and anything possible to avoid even looking at them, let alone being anywhere near—not that she had a choice considering they were…in the same group.

However, Blossom’s internalized terror aside, nothing so far seemed to have had…come from that befalling… No rumors or gossips of her true name or her being born out of wedlock…

Frankly, Blossom had—as a natural adaptive response to trauma—blocked out the detailed memories of what had occurred. It was hard for her to remember whether she had told them…everything in full truth, or half-truths shaded with lies, such as her being…the daughter of a whore rather than…a maid; the bastard of an elite and petty bourgeois commoner…rather than a high-born feudal.

Her mother had conditioned into her many automated responses to scream and shout were she ever to be kidnapped and or…interrogated, suffice it to say. However, these conditioned deceptions were…not necessarily any better for a girl’s reputation.

Indeed, Blossom was expecting them to have had slandered her by now… Twisting things or…something, as spiteful girls tended to do. Yet the perpetrators had yet to do anything with the dirt they had collected; it was almost as if she had told them nothing at all… Although she had yet to speak with Miranda since the last time, maybe…Miranda had actually talked with them, and somehow…had gotten them to…not do…any of that.

She did not know; frankly, she did not want to think about this…despite it lingering within.

Blossom sighed as she retracted her sight away from the windows, only to abruptly pause as her shine-blue eyes drifted off to the left, becoming distracted again. Before her sight was a rather familiar tall mannequin donning quite the familiar set of knightly armor, bastard sword in hand…

Although it was not truly long ago, it felt like forever since she had last gazed at this…stupid decorative mannequin and its…admittedly strapping armor… It was…remarkably dustier than before, quite so.

“No distractions.” Suddenly, a voice pierced from behind.

Blossom immediately shivered and turned; “Oh… Sorry…” she…apologized.

Indeed, now shadowing behind her always…was a peer of hers—another recently promoted junior, albeit not from her group.

Taller than her, quite mature in both stature and…development, standing strict and stern with an obvious ‘no lallygagging’ attitude… This maid was assigned specifically to Blossom in order to ensure the bestest of behaviors, conduct, and…verbiage. And her name was Melon—no doubt due to her…melon-green hair and watermelon-red eyes…

Melon was a constant watching owl hovering over Blossom, making sure she was always doing what she was supposed to. Yet Blossom was not particularly bothered since… in a way, this felt…protecting—even if Melon was…

“Stop standing and keep walking. It is not only your time that is being wasted.”

A bit of a cold bitch, despite her sweet name and looks.

“Sorry…” Blossom apologized again, a bit mellowly… She was actually trying her best to be…cooperative and not…start anything; she knew she was dangling by a thin string…

However, Blossom returned her eyes to that knightly mannequin, and then to the other decorative sets of armor displayed around… They were all dusty and…unmaintained. Without deliberation, she turned to Melon behind; “These…need to be cleaned… I want to clean them, if…that is fine…” she…somewhat cautiously spoke.

Melon stared, before her perpetually serious eyes looked at the mannequin, inspecting… “Fine.” she acquiesced; “So as long as you are working and behaving.” Work was work, ultimately, and Blossom was hardly one to ever volunteer.

“…cool” Blossom…mellowly replied, a tiny smile forming. So rare it was, it felt, to have a choice indeed.

“Although, I will be ensuring you are both diligent and qualitied.” Melon specified.

Blossom’s tiny smile withered… “Expectedly…” Indeed, somehow Melon’s standards were even stricter than the juniors’ overseeing maids. Though, at least she would never strike with hands to reprimand; Melon used words instead, albeit the words themselves struck with equal stinging force. “Let’s go retrieve the…needed things, then…” Thus, she promptly rebegan her walk, Melon shadowing behind.

Perhaps…Blossom did feel bad on the inside…that, due to her own impulses, Melon was now condemned to stay awake as long as her; no doubt, she was probably brooding about being unable to eat and…unwind…and relax…

“But after this, you will help me organize the Sir’s ancillary office and study.” Melon so spoke; “These are things I would have done hours ago were it not for you.” her voice was straight and blunt, neither antagonistic nor hostile.

Blossom sighed… “Alrightly…”

‘Relaxation’, who was she kidding? Melon was brooding about not being able to so dutifully do her job… Surely, she must be hungry and fatigued? Blossom absolutely was…

Sometimes she had to wonder if Melon was a golem and not a girl just a couple years her senior.

-||-

Blossom stood with…perhaps some pride…as she gazed at the now shiny mannequin before her eyes, armor freshly dusted, wiped, and lubricated.

Truly, this had to be her best work ever…of all time. Never before had she felt that she had put so much…genuine care and effort into any chore. And she had made sure to do this specific knightly armored mannequin last so that she could apply all that which she had…learned from cleaning the others first, all to clean this one…the best.

She really did like this…set of armor; it was becoming of the handsomest knight who would save the kidnapped princess in those fables of old. And, to her, it was as if freshly new.

“Hm.” Melon so judged; “Adequate. Although undoubtedly amateurish.” Her voice’s…utterly diminishing tone ruined the moment far more than the actual words, even if this was a complement relative to her…prior commentaries.

Blossom nearly dropped the duster and delicate rag in her hands as her posture essentially…deflated. Indeed, so suddenly did her perceptions mutate. No longer was this armor so sparkly clean and cleansed; she could see all of the faults, now. And she really had tried her best.

She turned her eyes and gazed at that which Melon herself had cleaned, superiority evident almost immediately… They were, truly, almost as if new—and this was Melon’s first time.

Yet abruptly, however: a stomach’s rambunctious growl. Frustrated, indeed, that organ was, to be so deprived of sustenance. Yet to whom such a growling stomach belonged remained…unknown, for neither Melon nor Blossom desired to claim ownership. Both, indeed, were rather embarrassed, for such audible gastral noises misbecame a lady.

Blossom stood and straightened her posture; “…do you want to fetch supper?” she simply asked, turning to Melon.

“It is…unavoidable…” Melon…acknowledged; “We must return what was borrowed, firstly.” yet she quickly added.

-||-

Blossom yawned again for the nth time as she gently strolled. Tired she was quite, yet she was…yawning intentionally. An ‘experiment’ for ‘science’, as the Far Westerners would say; such was what she was doing this moment. She kept yawning every now and then, to see… Yet no consequenting yawn would ever follow from she who trailed behind…

From Blossom’s extensive fifteen-years’ experience of being a…living breathing girl, yawns tended to spread. Others’ yawns would make her yawn, and her yawns would make others yawn… This was a consistent pattern.

Yet not Melon; Melon did not yawn from her yawns, nor others’.

Obviously, such was yet further evidence that Melon was, in fact, a golem and not a real girl.

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“You know your continued staring and unstaring of me is slowing your pace and suchly slowing my pacing… And I would prefer to be at supper now.” Melon, observing, chastised coldly.

“S-sorry…” Blossom’s eyes retracted away… “Has to be a golem… Nothing but…metal inside” she murmured to herself, thoughts bleeding…

“I heard that.” Melon’s voice pierced.

Blossom’s mouth immediately closed tightly; she focused her eyes to the front ahead…

Truly, what a maze these halls were… She wondered if they got turned…

Turned…

Turned…

Blossom began to notice someone else…appear ahead, strolling much like her with attention barely present… Approaching… Paths set to cross…

Although she began to identify whom, she continued to walk, despite her breaths becoming increasingly more tense, uneased, and…perhaps…terrified. Recent memories best left in the mind’s abyss started to flash and flow, as if reality was losing its cohesiveness… Yet she continued to walk…

Until the aimlessly approaching other too…finally noticed… she who was now becoming in front… They both mutually, and immediately, froze in place as eyes interlocked.

Blossom’s eyes stared into the other’s as the other’s stared into hers, both equally—even if divergently—disquieted by this sudden…convergence; one clearly orchestrated by Fortune and Fate in some kind of joint deplorable scheme, both assumed.

Such nightly blue hair and shiny lunar eyes…as if belonging to the full moon’s atmosphere… Indeed, frozen before Blossom’s sight…was Moon.

Moon was bewildered and tense, eyes widened. Blossom was even more so; she could not hide the cramping apprehensions and shivery jitters in both muscles and breaths. Neither of them was expecting to bump into each other, seemingly.

“Pink…” Moon’s breaths so blurted…

Yet Blossom remained silent, her mind unable to react… as if the queen of Demons had materialized before her.

“What is this hold, now?” Melon’s nearly bemoaning voice so intervened; “Seriously, Pink… Supper only has finite time over-hours.” she tried to…urge, even if not directly.

Blossom shook her head, snapping out… “Rightly… S-s-sorry… Sorry” she apologized, taking a deep breath, before glancing back… “Just…ignore what just happened, please…”

“If you keep walking.” Melon merely replied.

Taking another deep breath, Blossom began to walk as Melon shadowed along. She tried to pretend the person she walked past did not exist.

But Moon, snapping out of her own freeze, spun herself around as she looked at Blossom walking away. She had been willfully deferring this moment for…too long… That which needed to be done.

“Uhm… P-pink! Pink! May we… Uhm… Can we…” yet she struggled to articulate.

“No conversating.” Melon so immediately stated, not pausing or turning to Moon; “You are noticeably acquainted, but you are not to be speaking or gossiping unless related to your duties.” she reminded Blossom.

Yet Blossom had no qualms with that. She did not want to speak to Moon, ever; she wanted to keep walking.

“Hrmm…” Moon, locking onto Melon, lightly growled… “Melon.” she called by name.

Melon, sigh-ughing, paused and turned, glaring at Moon with ever-stern eyes. Blossom, noticing, paused in kind, though she remained staunchly behind Melon… She stared, becoming timid.

“Moon.” Melon thus spoke; “As I said, no conversating. We are busy.”

Moon…was atypically more perturbed and…awkward, though she tried to hide it behind her maidly decorum. “I am aware… But you appear to be hungry and tired… You need a break…” she remarked.

Melon, however, remained firm; “I am assigned to be her monitor.” she stated.

“I know… And I can…take that role for you so that you can…have a break” Moon replied…

“I am assigned to her. There is no switching.” Melon stated.

“I know… And you will still remain so, but you undeniably need a momentary break. Go eat supper in peace while I monitor her in your stead” Moon suggested… “You must be fairly fatigued from being around her…or anyone for so long…”

Melon glanced at Blossom, contemplating her assigned duties as opposed to Blossom herself…

Blossom, hearing all of this, desperately wanted to shake no, please no… Yet, frozen once again, she could not.

Melon sighed and looked at Moon; “Fine. You win. I am far too famished to tolerate her slow pace anyway.” she thus acquiesced; “However, I expect to see her in the supper hall before I am finished so that she eats too, lest starvation make her even slower.”

“Worry not…” Moon simply replied.

Melon sharply turned and began to walk away, having been relieved in effect… Indeed, she was now much faster and more precise in her walking and pace than before…

Nevertheless, thus was Blossom now alone… Her breaths tensed; her heart flared; yet she could not move. Despite the burning dread within, she was frozen still… Having been left at the mercy of the last—or rather second-to-last—person she wanted to be left alone with…

Moon, unaloof to Blossom’s terror, cautiously approached, attempting to be docile and unthreatening. Yet…such was useless, for everything was interpreted as menacing and malevolent by Blossom’s frail mind.

Blossom began to reactively back away, breaths escalating. She wanted to whelp and whimper in fear, yet her breaths clogged; her voice remained stuck.

“Pink…” Moon thus spoke… “Let’s uhm… Walk…”

Blossom, however, shook no…over and over… “I… I… I think… I am going…to… No, I think I am going to…” her voice was…disorganized; she would rather toss herself out the window, effectively.

“Yeah…” Moon mellowly replied, her eyes gently averting…as she paused. Indeed, there was no point in trying to circle around or build-up; it was best to just say it… “I am sorry…”

Blossom required a moment to process these words, and once she did, her brain zapped, in effect, with such…absolute and utter…something. “…huh?” she blurted, pausing in place; “…you are…sorry?”

“Yes… I am sorry, Pink… For everything we… I did…” Moon apologized.

Yet Blossom stared, her mind simply unable to… “You are…sorry?” Indeed, her voice was hardly thrilled, relieved, or satisfied… Her teeth shivered as her lip twitched, for her flighting terror was mutating into fighting rage.

‘Sorry’…? That was all this bitch had to say? Oh, she was ‘sorry’??

“Unbelievable…” Blossom exhaled… “You are not…sorry! You are not even a daughter of man! A demon… A succubus… You are freaking succubus!” Her mouth was running itself again, her thoughts…not necessarily cohesive.

“That is…a creative way of saying I am a bitch-skank…” Moon, however, softly acknowledged… trying her best not to be provoked, even if it was…difficult.

“A deceptive fornicating…dirt-collecting slut!” Blossom ought to really keep her voice down with such remarks, yet her consciousness and emotions were no longer in harmony.

“That too…” Moon acknowledged; “However, I wear ‘slut’ as a medallion of pride…”

“I don’t… I literally… I don’t care! I want you to leave me alone! You’ve already tortured—tortured—enough out of me… You have no idea! You can…determine whether or not…my life here… Even be… Gods’ sacred… Gods’ sacred…” Blossom’s breaths only became more…hyperventilative; in this moment, she realized just how much…damage Moon could potentially do.

Everything her mother tried to do for her sake…would be undone… All of this would have been…pointless…

Although deep down within Blossom blamed herself more than not, in this moment, all of that blame was being directed at Moon exclusively; in this moment, Moon was the source of all evil, practically.

“Please, just…leave me alone. I have not told anyone, besides—well, nobody, I have not told—J-just, just leave me alone! You have done enough—enough!” Blossom’s emotions were becoming messier, tears beginning to drip as she backed away…

This was…becoming rather the scene, indeed.

Moon…sighed; “Pink, hear me… You are…not going to believe me, but I…sincerely…sincerely do not remember the details… I know what we…what I…did, but not the sounds or words… It is hard to describe, it really is, but…I do not remember what things you revealed to me…” thus she spoke, her voice solemn and sincere. “Sparing the theories, something had…come over us; that is all I can…say…”

“Eat my…” Blossom nearly blurted; “Tch, ‘do not remember’—that is so…stupidly convenient! I am not stupid! And yes, something had happened to you… You became a succubus obsessed with drinking noble seed!” Her anger flared again.

Moon…once again, sighed… This was becoming tiresome. “I will be completely honest with you, Pink: I hate you. We all hate you. You know why? Because of this: you are also a vile bitch… Your mouth is fowl, and you show no respect for anyone else… It is not as though you did no wrong…to cause this on yourself…” Maybe she was starting to…become too defensive and antagonistic…

“You little…” Blossom’s fiery breaths snarled, by no means amused. However, despite the present…inability of Blossom to see the other side, the words were nevertheless…perhaps hitting deeper within.

“I am just being honest with you, Pink… Because if I said I wanted to apologize for everything I thought or claimed of you, that would be a lie… And I do not want to lie” thus Moon said… “I feel…horrible for what I did, and I am confused; that is the truth… But I hate you; I still hate you… Originally, my only motive for wanting to initiate this was… Miranda, I… We talked a couple of days ago, and…she found out, and… she told me we could never talk again unless I make peace with you. But now…”

As if yet another zap to her mind, Blossom began to…somewhat simmer after hearing Miranda’s name… They had talked, then… “…so, you don’t care…about me or what…you did to me…at all…? Only Miranda…” she thus spoke.

“I was not finished, but…” Moon paused, recollecting her thoughts… “There is a piece of me that feels…justified in what happened… But there is also a piece—a larger piece—that feels…guilty and so ashamed; I feel horrible…either way, and I can hardly…even look at you without…seeing everything again… Without hearing…hearing…” Moon’s breaths abruptly tensed, though…she quickly calmed; “All I am trying to tell you is that…I am genuinely…genuinely attempting here. I want to make peace and…try to see you…differently… Maybe then my heart will be given back…”

Blossom was…more calm now. “I don’t think…we will ever get along… I hate you; I hate everyone here… I cannot stand any of you… All of you suffocate me…” she frankly stated, still a bit charged.

“Yes, you never bothered masking your contempt; it was obvious, Pink… You always convey yourself so bitter and hateful which rotted every pleasant mood…” Moon was…perhaps becoming too antagonistic again.

Indeed, Blossom glared, becoming growly…

“Sorry…” Moon apologized, calming herself… “Mutual hatred is a commonality we have, at least…” She sighed; “…‘try to see beyond the veil and understand the heart within’, that is what Miranda told me, if I recall… Honestly, we would both benefit from…being more like her…”

Blossom’s eyes…averted a little… “Yeah… I suppose…” she mumbled, voice becoming lowly… Indeed, Miranda was almost…unnaturally talented at piercing hearts and charming souls.

And truth be told, it was not as though Blossom was completely…incognizant of why Moon was so spiteful that day… By no means did such exempt her and the others of their crimes, but…Blossom’s runaway mouth was the causal factor for everything that day, even if she still did feel…justified in standing her ground with that…serpentine man-boy.

Nevertheless, “I am sorry about…ruining…that heat moment, I suppose…” Blossom opted to…apologize, she supposed; “I just gravely dislike Swordstaff; there is something wicked about him…”

“To be honest, I only like him because he is courteous in appearance, sexy, and fucks…good” Moon so remarked, opting to…open herself a little.

Blossom was taken aback by this sudden tonal shift. Almost instantly, her cheeks inflated as she attempted to suppress a gagging laugh. That random remark had…admittedly…improved her mood.

“I guess we may say that I am also a fowl mouth, albeit of a different category…” Moon remarked, before aheming; “But…that is all, I suppose. I just wanted to make clear that…I want to…make peace with you, if you are willing to let me…” Her eyes…drifted away; “I know I cannot make amends, but…I suppose…what I can do is…make sure that nobody else gets the same idea, I suppose, by… by…”

“…by?” Blossom tilted her had.

“…by being your… friend…” Moon…awkwardly completed.

“Friend…?” Blossom, again, was caught by surprise.

Moon sighed; “Maybe that is too excessive… Perhaps we should start by…not hating each other…”

“Hmm…” Blossom’s eyes drifted away, contemplating… “So… If I understand, you remember torturing me but have ‘forgotten’ what…was revealed?” thus she spoke, eyes returning to Moon; “Just…swear, you are…being truthful, rightly? You truly…do not remember…anything?”

“Yes, Pink… I genuinely have not the faintest idea, I swear in all truth… My memories are deaf, if that makes sense…” Moon replied, her voice solemn; “Memory generally has become a tad strugglesome…lately…” she…mellowly added.

“Hmm…” Blossom mumbled… “What is my name?” she…abruptly asked.

Moon, however, immediately tilted her head; “Uhm… Pink?” she instantly answered; “What else could…? Sorry, I am just… I said my memory has become slightly strugglesome, not… I literally just…said it? ‘Pink’…” She was…rather confused.

Blossom eyed away, thinking… Truthfully, she still did not entirely believe Moon; it would be stupid to… However, Moon’s confusion seemed so…genuine and real… Would she have replied in such a way if she were lying? Blossom did not know…

Yet… “Fine…” Blossom sighed, acquiescing; “Let’s agree not to…be bitches with each other, I suppose…”

“Acceptable… I suppose” Moon…agreed, she supposed; “Now, let us…return you to…Melon. She is waiting, and…”

“She is…not someone I want to make angry…” Blossom completed.

“Yes. So, let us…walk…” Thus, Moon began to walk, and Blossom…so followed.

Although the bruises remained present and trust remained barely existent, Blossom was…nonetheless convinced enough by Moon’s genuine sincerity in wanting to make peace to…at least…give this a chance. This could not…make things any worser, to be honest…

However, if—and that was a prominent if—Moon was telling the truth, then…that opened many more questions of what, how, and why… Yet Blossom was with neither the mood nor the energy to ponder, besides merely accepting what seemed to be.