The excitement we feel about existing is cut short by a spike of panic that courses through us only a moment later. “Stop making that racket out there!” shouts a voice from inside the building we’re leaning against, shortly followed by the sound of stomping feet. We glance to the side and see a window not far from us, and the panic fully takes over. Leaping to our feet, we scoop the gold that dropped to the dirt up, leaving a groove in the ground in our haste. As the curtains in the window begin to shake, we dash away at lightning speed, back toward the school.

Passing through the front gate, we sprint across the silent, mist-covered campus, slipping in the front door of the dorm building just as dawn’s light breaks. Only then do we consider that maybe we should not be in this form in this place, but fortunately, no one appears to be inside the dorm lobby. Jetting through the side door, we finally reach the sanctuary of our room and close the door behind us.

Collapsing onto the bed, we breathe a long sigh of relief. The gold in our hands cascades onto our bare chest, which feels weird, given we’re naked. But we don’t feel as naked as when in singular forms? This body lacks detail, so feelings such as gold running across our breasts don’t have the complication of nipples to contend with. Shooting back up to our feet, we step toward our full-body mirror, some gold falling to the floor and ground, but a decent amount still cradled in our arms.

Oh, wow, that’s weird. Part of us had seen it before, but it’s different knowing we’re looking at ourself. The other part of us just never actually got to see us like this! We’re a tad shorter than Ruem, fatter too, with no horns or tail to speak of. Shoulder-length hair frames a round face with no mouth, no nose holes, and yellow eyes. Oh, that’s different, right? Kittpey said Bimenie’s eyes were red. What’s most distracting about our body, though, is the splotches of black and white. We hadn’t looked for long last time, but those splotches move. They pulse and shift and change, like a lava lamp but a person.

We’re dimly aware of a sound behind us — a soft click, like a door handle. And then a gasp. Eyes like saucers, we swivel around to look, the gold in our hands spilling to the floor. Kittpey is there in the doorway, staring at us in utter shock, her mouth agape. A moment later, she slams the door closed.

Before we can begin figuring out how to handle this disastrous scenario, the door swings open again. Kittpey steps inside, then quietly closes the door behind her, pressing her back against it.

“R—Ruem?? Or… B—Biat…?” she says, clearly trying to keep calm and doing a mediocre job of it. She’s much more roughshod in appearance than we’ve ever seen her before, making it clear just how much effort she must put into her usual presentation. Right now she has no makeup on whatsoever, and her normally straight hair is curly, flaring out around her neck like a tangled bush.

We shrug. “Both, actually.”

“H—how…?”

We look away. Part of us is willing to tell, but the other part very much isn’t. We settle on a compromise. “…It’s a long story, but the important part is that we had a moment together, and we hugged, and then we became this!”

Kittpey squints. “A moment?”

“Not like a gay thing,” we say, waving a hand. Is that completely correct, though? Together like this, we’re unsure. “…I think.”

Our blonde friend’s doubtful eyes rake over us, then down to the floor. When they leap back up to meet ours, her gaze is sharp. “And the gold?”

Fuck. We’re so tired of lying, can’t we just tell her? No, we super can’t tell her, she’ll be all judgey about it, and we’d have to rehash the fresh wound of Radestro. She’s going to know we’re lying, and we don’t even know if she forgives us for the other lies. Ugh, but look, it was illegal, right, so wouldn’t that implicate her or something if we told? Getting our friend in trouble with the law would be a bad friend thing to do, right? Of course, that didn’t bother us when we got a different friend, who may or may not be part of us now, involved in illegal activities. Look, we just really really don’t want to talk about this, so shut up about it— Well then let’s split up, so one of us can tell her— NO!! You don’t tell her either, keep your mouth—

Whatever magic kept you both bonded together falls apart, your body falling toward the bed, Ruem’s spirit body shooting off in the other direction. Unfortunately, you’re not actually very close to the bed, so you’re about to slam your face into the wooden frame instead of the mattress. Fortunately, Kittpey has quick reflexes. She dives in front of you, catching your body at the last moment and saving your face from disaster.

“Are you alright!?” she says, her face very close to your face.

Going a bit red despite yourself, you say, “Y—yeah, thanks to you.” A light blush forms on Kittpey’s cheeks too, prompting her to look away.

“Good,” she says, pushing you to your feet and also away from her. Once you’re up, she stands too, the silence between you palpable. That only lasts a moment before Ruem appears on your shoulder, screaming in your ear.

“Don’t say a word to her! It’s my business, and I don’t want—”

“You made it my business too, Ruem,” you say, turning your eyes to Kittpey. You extend your arm, and Kittpey extends hers in kind.

“What is it you’re trying to keep from me?” she says to Ruem, softly.

Literally squirming on your shoulder, Ruem says, “Look, it’s— I don’t wanna talk about it, okay!? Maybe later? But it’s not really your business—”

Kittpey’s gaze falls to her lap. “…Okay.” After a pause, she adds, “Are you safe, at least?”

“Probably?” Squirming some more, Ruem looks back and forth between you and Kittpey. Her eyes scrunch up, she rocks back and forth, and then, finally, she speaks. “Werobbedabank and Radestrobrokeupwithme and woah, I super have to go, great seeing you Kittpey, hopefully you forgive me for the earlier stuff, bye!!” With that, she disappears, and after a moment of shock-induced stillness, you let your hand fall from Kittpey’s arm.

“Sorry,” you say with a grimace.

Looking at you in utter bafflement, Kittpey says, “You robbed a bank??”

You find yourself deeply envying Ruem’s ability to float away from situations. “Well… yes? It wasn’t my idea, and I’m not sure how much it was Ruem’s. It was Radestro who most wanted to do it.”

She stares at you. “Were you forced?”

Oh boy. You have no idea to what extent she has or hasn’t forgiven you for your earlier actions. But regardless, this is not a great impression to make in a relatively new relationship, is it? “Not exactly? There was this whole argument between Ruem and Umeso about it. Umeso thought it was a bad idea—”

“And they were right.”

“S—sure, but, well, their argument also kinda led to some gender stuff for me, and I was riding high on that, and I also thought it would be a good sort of test run for saving my friend Ellemenie, so I decided to help out…”

Blinking rapidly, Kittpey holds up a hand. “Wait, there’s a lot there, give me a moment.” Pursing her lip, she takes her requested moment, then looks back at you. “Ellemenie is your dream friend, right? And she’s in danger?”

“Yeah, exactly!” you say, relieved that she remembers. It’ll make explanations shorter, at least. “She helped me beat that monster that attacked the school, and there’s like this boss guy that’s mad at her for it? So I want to get her out of there—”

“Out of your dreams?”

You stifle a grimace. It’s not unreasonable for her to think that, just continue explaining… “Well no, I think she’s probably actually somewhere in this world? I haven’t exactly figured that out yet.”

Holding her elbow in a palm, Kittpey presses her chin against the other palm. “So you robbed a bank hoping it would help you break into… some other place. That may or may not be at all similar to a bank. To rescue a woman you’re not completely sure even exists on the same plane of existence as us.”

You find it difficult to maintain eye contact. “…Yes?”

Taking a seat on the edge of your bed, Kittpey says, “Can you explain the other thing she said? About Radestro?”

“Oh, yes, well he—” She pats the edge of the bed next to her, which for some reason is all your brain is capable of thinking about for a moment. After a second or two, you follow the wordless instruction and take a seat, making sure to leave some space between the two of you. From this distance, you can tell she has some light bags under her eyes, but they don’t make her any less gorgeous than when she has a full face of makeup. “H—he broke up with her. She tried to convince him not to run, to wait for her to get her body back, but he wasn’t interested.”

Rolling her eyes and grinding her teeth, Kittpey says, “Of course he wasn’t. Bastard. What did he say to her?”

“Something about the sex being good but all good things have to end?” Feeling anger rise within you again, you add, “He refused to directly talk to her when he said that, too! He wouldn’t let me touch him so he could see her.”

Boring holes in the wall of your dorm with the intensity of her glare, Kittpey says, “I wish I’d been there. I would’ve kicked him in the face.”

“I wanted to throw a gold brick at his head, but Ruem wouldn’t let me.” That earns you a bout of laughter from your blonde companion, intense enough that she clutches her sides. When it eventually dies down, a pleasant silence takes over for a minute or two. Eventually, she speaks again.

“Well, I know why you would want to do such a ludicrous thing, but I still can’t fathom why Ruem…” Her brow furrows, her eyes boring holes in the ground. “She didn’t just want him not to run, you said. She wanted him to wait for her… Because she also wants to run.” She looks to you, the hurt back in her eyes at full force. “Why?”

Her stare is hard to match; you turn away after only a few seconds. “I—I’m not sure? She said something about escaping her parents…?”

“Ah,” Kittpey says, the syllable weighty with understanding. Right, of course she would know what that’s about. They’ve been friends since they were kids, as you recall. Her sadness shifts more toward irritation now, and she speaks, more to herself than to you. “Why didn’t she tell me? Of course I would understand!”

You have a hunch. “You would’ve tried to convince her to stay, though, right?” you say, looking into her eyes again. Though their yellow tint is the same as all other Idrestians’ eyes seem to be, you still find them entrancing.

“I mean… of course I would have.” Splaying your hands at her, you nod, and you see recognition pass over her face as well, followed by an even deeper irritation. With a heavy sigh and a short growl, she mutters, “If I couldn’t convince her I would’ve gone with her, though! If she’d just given me a chance…”

The more you get to know Kittpey, the more you realize that she really is ride or die when it comes to her friends. It’s a charming — but also mildly terrifying — aspect of her personality. And it makes you wonder…

“Am I your friend?” you say quietly, not entirely meaning to speak it aloud.

Despite the question visibly surprising her, Kittpey schools her expression quickly. Turning towards you, she grasps your hand, gingerly cupping it with her both of her own. She refrains from allowing your inner hands to touch, which prevents that tingle you’ve experienced from Idestrian hand-holding before. Still, given the significance that seems to be placed on hands touching hands in this culture, this gesture of hers feels significant. When you finally peel your gaze off your hands, you find that she’s staring at you, her face radiating patience and serenity. You ignore the heat in your cheeks.

“That’s right, we haven’t talked about it yet. About where we left off.” You swallow a lump in your throat. “I’ll give you the short answer first: I don’t know. I would like to be, or to at least try to be. But it’s… difficult.” Valiantly preventing your lip from warbling, you nod your head several times. Objectively too many times. You stop moving your head. With no indication of if she noticed your over-enthusiastic head wobbling, she continues. “It’s just hard to look at her face and hear her voice, a face and voice I’ve known for so long, and disentangle that from her. It’s hard not to process everything you say and do as still somehow being reflective of her, despite how different you two clearly are. It’s my own hangup, clearly, but… I do worry that it will get in the way of actually getting to know you.”

Oh. That was… not actually what you were expecting. Her concern does make sense; you imagine that if Umeso had known Ruem for longer, they’d be experiencing a similar issue. But wait, is she still mad at you, then, or not?? She didn’t mention that at all! As though reading the thoughts on your face — which maybe she’s doing, you're not putting effort into keeping your expression neutral — Kittpey smiles.

“I’m sorry, that’s not quite what you were asking, was it? You want to know if I forgive you for having lied to me for months.” Her phrasing makes you cringe. She’s right, of course, but it sure does twist your stomach in knots to hear her say it again. She laughs, the sound soft and light. “Her face has always been an open book of emotions, too. That’s something you both have in common, actually.” The pout you make just receives more giggles. They fill your heart, despite the worry still pooling in your gut. If she could just say— “Yes, I think I forgive you, Biat.” Your heart soars, but you try to reign your expression in as it does so. Given the smirk forming at the edge of her lips, you’re not sure you did a great job. “As much as I can, I understand why you’d do it, being stuck in a strange body and world and all that. Those are difficult circumstances for a person to have to handle.”

Just as all worry finishes draining from your body, her hands squeeze yours tight, her expression flipping on a dime to something dangerous, terrifying. If looks could kill, you’d be dead on the floor. “Don’t lie to me again, though. Got it?”

Chest tight, heart thumping, you nod vigorously. “Y—yes, ma’am.”

And just like that her grip loosens and a smile returns to her face. She even giggles again. “Oh, you’re much more fun than Ruem, though, aren’t you.” It’s not a question, though it does spawn a thousand of them within your head. What in the world does she mean by that, and why does it make your heart pound in your chest even more than her threatening tone did?

Placing your hand in your lap, Kittpey slides off the bed and to her feet. “Time to get ready for school!” Though your mind takes a moment to fully come back to itself, once it does you follow suit and slide your feet down to the ground. Your legs barely manage to support the action, though, your body swaying worryingly, like a young tree in a hurricane. Kittpey puts a hand on your back to steady you, eyes filled with worry.

“Are you alright?”

There’s a great haze forming in your mind, one that might’ve been there to some extent before, but is undoubtedly growing stronger. You feel more exhausted than you think you’ve ever felt, in this life or the last one. “I—I’m just tired, I think. Like… really tired.”

Gently guiding you back to the edge of the bed, Kittpey has you sit down and says, “How long have you been awake?”

“Since…” Your face scrunches as you think. “Since the middle of the night, two nights ago?”

“Over a day!?” she nearly shouts, brow scrunching in a combination of irritation and concern. “And have you used magic much in that time?”

It feels like there’s a right answer to that, but it’s not the answer you have to give. “…Um… a lot, yeah.”

She pushes your shoulder, knocking you backward onto the bed. “Go to sleep, Biat!!”

“B—but school?” you say weakly.

“You’re taking a sick day.” There is no room for argument in her tone.

Harrumphing, you do an awkward elbow crawl into a more reasonable sleeping position. “Fine…”

Kittpey’s grumpy expression shifts to the same sort of smirk she wore when calling you ‘fun’ earlier. Even if your mind weren’t fading fast, you’re still not sure you could have figured out why. You don’t hate it, though.

Walking over to stand near your head, Kittpey looks down at you, hands on her hips. “I’ll check in on you later, and bring you something for lunch, okay? And you’d better still be sleeping until then, alright?”

Though you pout, you don’t argue, just nod. Then you shuffle your body and the bedsheets around until you’ve got the former under the latter, in a display that would be more humiliating to have Kittpey witness if you weren’t so damn tired. As you finish snuggling in, you’re caught by surprise as your friend bends down and presses a light kiss to your forehead. Your heart shoots into your throat, cheeks burning, but she offers no explanation, and instead turns away, trotting over to the door.

“Goodnight,” she says with over-the-top sweetness, before disappearing into the hall and closing the door behind her.

Not even a minute later, you fall asleep.

~~~

The room you find yourself in is not Ellemenie’s room or the dungeon you saw before. You’re in an unfamiliar room now, a room filled with bottles and beakers and an assortment of sharp, dangerous-looking metal tools. The ceiling is high but the amount of things stuffed within the space still makes it feel cramped. It’s a very oppressive and unsettling room, in a way you’ve never quite experienced before. But the most horrifying thing in it is your dream friend’s situation.

Ellemenie is strapped to a flat table, her eyes squeezed shut, her breathing short. Your friend is being tortured right before your eyes, and you’re trapped in place, unable to do a thing to help her.