Chapter Text
“Frin! Frin, look at this weird flower I found!”
Siffrin pauses their conversation with Isa to watch Bonnie run back to the group. The kid's knees and clothes are covered in grass stains from rooting around in the pastures lining the road, where they've been looking for plants so they could make fresh spices. Well, according to Bonnie, at least. Odile and Nille say they're just burning off energy.
“Let’s see it, Bonbon!” Isa says, beaming.
Bonnie reaches them and jabs their hand forward, holding a single flower. It's white, with long, wavy petals and clusters of black speckles near the center.
“You didn’t need to pick it,” Nille sighs. She looks too fond of her sibling’s antics to be properly scolding, though.
“But it looks like Frin! It’s got their hair and black in the middle for their eyepatch and everything!”
“It is pretty,” Isa says, giving Siffrin a shy smile.
Mira giggles. Siffrin ducks their head, cheeks heating.
“Oh, gross,” Bonnie says, sticking out their tongue. “Don’t drag me into your dumb flirting. I just thought it was funny.”
“It appears to be a species of iris," Odile cuts in, a wry grin growing on her face. "And I must say there is a striking resemblance.”
An iris? Oh, Siffrin can’t pass that up. “Bonbon, I didn’t know you found me so…”
Bonnie’s face drops into panic. “Wait, no, don’t—"
“Iris-istible.”
“Ugh, you’re the worst!” Bonnie makes a disgusted face and gives Siffrin a shove. Before the loops it would’ve been strong enough to send them back a step, so they fake it, grinning and relishing in the millisecond of contact.
“We may be able to press the flower if you’d like to, Boniface.”
Bonnie perks up at Odile’s words, hopping closer to her. “Press it? Whaddaya mean?”
“It’s done often in Ka Bue. You simply dry the flower and place it between the pages of a book, then use weight to press it flat. It preserves the petals so they don’t wilt.”
Something about the phrasing of that makes Siffrin’s skin crawl, the idea of plucking and “preserving” flowers in time a little too close to the King’s own mindset. But they know that’s silly, so they smile when Bonnie gasps and begs Odile to show them how.
“Won’t you need something absorbent so the book doesn’t stain?” Isa asks. Somehow, Siffrin isn’t surprised that he knows about the practice.
Odile’s mouth twists, but she glances at Bonnie practically vibrating with anticipation and sighs. “I have some parchment paper I don’t mind using in my pack.”
“Yes!" Bonnie throws up their arms and does a happy dance around Odile and Nille. “I’ll see if I can find any other cool flowers! Maybe there’s one that looks like you too, Dile!”
“Oh! We could even make something with them!” Mira suggests, hands clasped and eyes sparkling. “Charms?”
“That wouldn’t be too difficult,” Odile muses. “We could pick up some supplies in the next town we pass through.”
As Bonnie cheers, their sister Nille laughs. Siffrin is glad that she allowed Bonnie to travel with them a while longer, tagging along herself after a teary reunion in Bambouche a few days ago. She’s tall, with unruly black hair like Bonnie's, but much longer. Same sharp eyes. A bit quieter than her sibling, but with a touch of the same temper and an unexpected sense of humor lurking beneath her stern demeanor. She smiles at Siffrin, though, so that’s nice. And Siffrin likes that Bonnie is happier with her along.
Once Odile mentions pressing the flower as soon as possible to keep it from wilting, Bonnie panics, so the party decides to stop for the night shortly after. The sun is setting anyways, and by the time they move into the wood line and find a small clearing for their campsite, dusk has started painting their surroundings a darker shade.
While Odile shows an enraptured Bonnie, Nille, and Mira how to press the flower between the pages of one of her tomes, Siffrin and Isa get to work finding materials for the campfire. Isa takes it upon himself to gather branches deeper in the woods while Siffrin digs up stones to line the firepit: the usual arrangement. Siffrin loads their arms up with five or six fist-sized stones and takes them to the clearing to dump near a handy patch of dirt leftover from past travelers.
As Siffrin turns to head back to the trees, a prick of light in the corner of their eye catches their attention. The stars are starting to come out. Siffrin pauses for a moment to look up at them, taking a breath of the warm evening air to try and clear their tired, foggy brain. They still love the stars, even if looking at them now makes their chest ache. They don’t think they’ll ever be tired of the sight—the stars are a part of them, of their past—but it certainly feels more…bittersweet than it used to.
Bonnie shouts something in their excitement, making Siffrin jump as Odile claps her heavy book shut and binds it for extra weight. With that done, the others start their own chores for the night. Mira unpacks everyone’s bedrolls while Odile clears the ground of bothersome twigs and pebbles. Bonnie starts unpacking their frying pan by the beginnings of the firepit, pulling out ingredients to cook up a meal. Nille, clearly a bit lost on what to do among the well-oiled machine of their team, settles on joining her sibling.
Siffrin smiles, the ache in their chest and the tension in their frame easing with the familiar sight of their family—their friends—settling into the old routine. Friends. Not family. Siffrin didn’t have the whole family talk with them this loop—the final loop—so they can’t call them that. Which is fine.
(It has to be fine. They said they still want to travel together for a while. That’s more than you deserve to ask for, after everything.)
Siffrin takes another breath and shakes their head. They head back into the trees, finding a few more suitable rocks and prying them out of the dirt and moss. The sounds of nature pour over their nerves like a stream over stones, smoothing them out and giving Siffrin a nice background song to drown their thoughts in. Bugs singing and chirping. Wind rustling through the leaves. Creatures startling in the brush. Siffrin isn’t feeling up to hunting right now, but they bet there are plenty of squirrels around.
When Siffrin returns to the campsite with his last stones in tow, Odile and Mira are already finished laying everyone’s bedrolls out. It’s strange, for a moment, that there are six sleeping spots instead of five, but it’s a good kind of strange that doesn’t feel unsettling. The four fighters’ bedrolls are arranged in a protective barrier around Bonnie’s smaller one, as usual, with Nille’s pressed tight against her sibling’s.
Siffrin smiles and arranges their stones in a tight circle around the bare patch of dirt, perfectly prepared for the firewood. Right on cue, Isa crashes back through the brush, stumbling over roots with a disgruntled expression that makes Siffrin bite back a laugh.
“’Bout time!” Bonnie calls, organizing their supplies on the other side of the firepit with Nille’s help.
“Sorry, Bonbon. Got a bit tied up,” Isa says.
Siffrin eyes the branches in the man's arms, and a pun jumps to mind, which is…welcome. They haven’t really been feeling up to making many puns since the loops, still acclimating to an unpredictable world of conversations. Two in one day is a new record, post-Dormont.
“Isa,” Siffrin says.
Isa turns to them with bright eyes. “Yeah, Sif?”
“The campfire.”
Isa’s perks up, recognizing Siffrin’s tone. “Uh-huh?”
“Wood you like some help with it?”
Isa barks a laugh. “Of course! I think you could really spark my motivation!”
“You two are insufferable,” Odile comments from where she’s pulling the Familytale from Dormont out of her pack. The townspeople were kind enough to lend it to her, on the condition it made it back to them in one piece.
“Yeah!” Bonnie says. “Keep making mushy faces at each other and I'm gonna have to beat you up!”
Isa trips over one of the campsite stones as he arranges the wood, and Siffrin feels their face heat. But unfortunately for Bonnie, they’re on a roll today!
“Sorry, Bonbon,” Siffrin says, a smug smile creeping onto their face. “We just camp help it.”
Isa bursts into booming laughter while Bonnie and Odile send Siffrin mirrored looks of disgust.
“I can’t believe how much I missed your puns, Siffrin,” Mira giggles.
Siffrin grins wider and tilts their chin towards the trees. “You can’t be-leaf it?”
Isa’s laughter turns to howls. Bonnie screams and chucks an old cookie at Siffrin. He snickers and pick it up from the dirt, taking a bite out of it. Stale, but still good.
(Plus, it’s not the kind that Bonnie made in the loops, so it doesn’t make you nauseous.)
Siffrin’s job is done for now, so they flop onto their bedroll, tilting their head to watch Mira help Isa light the fire with some flint. Siffrin’s chest feels warm, and lighter than it has in what seems like forever.
Stars, Siffrin loves their family.
…Their friends.
Siffrin swallows hard and looks back up at the night sky. The voices around them are comforting, but they also remind Siffrin of that perfect loop.
“But we’re family, right?”
“YEAH! WE’RE FAMILY!!!”
“Yes, ‘family’ fits better, I think.”
“Family! What a lovely word to describe our relationship to each other!”
(Stop.)
Siffrin’s blood family is gone, from what little he can patch together of his memories, specks of gold amongst the loose, endless sand of his mind. And he still has Bonnie and Odile and Isa and Mira, at least for a while. Until they leave again. Until they all have to part ways.
“And if one day, no matter what you do, everyone’s paths and yours diverge…You’ll have to learn to be okay with it.”
Siffrin is not okay with it. Not yet. They want to be, want to think their fear of being abandoned—forgotten—alone—is magically gone after everything. They’re supposed to work on it. Talk to the others about what they’re feeling.
Instead, they are painfully aware of the weight of the dagger at their hip, murmuring for them to try again, try again.
(Stop.)
They’re almost relieved when their stomach rolls at the mere thought of waking up in that field. They don’t think they could handle getting trapped in the loops again without shutting down entirely, so the quick, instinctive thought to just off themself and start over loses some of its appeal.
(…You're pretty sure Odile would say that sentence is concerning. You should probably tell her about what you're feeling.)
Siffrin takes a deep breath and tries to forcibly shove those thoughts out of mind. They’re happy now, they are. They’re free of the loops, Vaugarde is saved, and they’re still with their family friends. It’s everything they could’ve wanted. So they shouldn’t still be feeling so…off.
Siffrin turns onto their side to watch the campfire shenanigans, only a little surprised to catch Odile watching them from where she’s sat on her own bedroll. The woman meets their gaze for a moment before looking back to the tome in her lap.
That’s something different, too. Other than Nille’s presence and the significantly lighter mood to their travelling—
(Other than the nightmares, the terrifying thought of the loops returning, the stars-forsaken craving for touch, other than the way you sometimes have to force Bonnie’s delicious meals down past a lump in your throat, other than the way you still find yourself so on edge all the time like you can’t relax, constantly ready to go fight kill die—)
Other than a few small changes, Siffrin has also noticed the others…watching, sometimes. Watching Siffrin. Odile simply meets their gaze with an unreadable expression when they catch her, while Mira and Isa give Siffrin a sweet, reassuring smile. Bonnie just sticks their tongue out at them. If they aren’t all trying to hide it, Siffrin doesn’t think the change can be too bad, but they can't help feeling anxious about it. Are the others still upset with them? They assured Siffrin they weren’t. Instead, they almost seem concerned when Siffrin meets their gaze, but Siffrin can’t tell if they’re concerned for Siffrin or concerned that Siffrin is going to fly off the handle again.
…Stars, please don’t be the latter. The former is embarrassing enough.
Siffrin is better! Really. It’s been a whole week since they broke free of the loops, and they’ve been trying hard to stay upbeat. Siffrin doesn’t fake smiles nearly as much as they did in the loops. Most of them are real, now. Effortless. So they don’t see the harm in the occasional dip in their mood. They experienced that plenty before the loops, too, even if no one else knew. As much as they appreciate everyone’s concern, the quiet attention makes Siffrin feel…itchy. They don’t know what to do to make it stop.
Everyone said Siffrin needed to talk to them more, but that’s easier said than done. He hasn't talked about the loops since his apologies in the House of Change, right before speaking to the Head Housemaiden. Hasn't disclosed much of exactly what he did and saw. If the rest of them are like Mira, then maybe they don’t want to know.
Plus, Loop filled them all in on the basics, and none of them have asked, so. Siffrin assumes everyone has silently decided to move past the whole embarrassing debacle, which they're more than okay with. The others probably meant for Siffrin to talk about any new things that bother them, things that actually happen in this timeline.
Isa and Mira move to their own bedrolls on either side of Siffrin, chatting about something related to flour and baking mishaps. Siffrin smiles, welcoming the distraction, and rolls onto their back to close their tired eye and listen. They don’t sleep well at night, but sometimes they doze off when everyone else is awake and chatting around them. When it feels safe.
It could be a mere minute later or half an hour when Bonnie casually calls out, “Hey Frin, can I tell Nille about, uh. You going to school a bunch of days in a row?”
Normally the terrible attempt at subtlety would make Siffrin laugh, but they can’t help freezing, eye snapping open as their breath catches. Isa and Mira’s conversation abruptly cuts off on either side of them. Out of the corner of their eye, they see Odile lift her head up from her book. Nille shifts uncomfortably, picking up that something is wrong without knowing what it is.
Siffrin should say yes. They should not act weird about this. They’d been expecting someone to bring it up, after all, especially after the first few days. They just…let their guard down too soon, for some reason. And of course Bonnie would be the first one to bring it up so blatantly. If anything, Siffrin should be grateful that impulsive Bonbon thought to ask Siffrin’s permission before sharing.
So why can’t he seem to sit up and say something?
“Bon,” Nille starts, voice hushed, “I don’t think—”
“Wait. Why are you all being weird?” Bonnie asks. Siffrin can hear the frown in their voice. “I don’t gotta tell Nille, but…”
“The loops are a bit of a…sensitive subject, Bonbon,” Isa says.
(...They are?)
Siffrin hears Bonnie set their pan down against one of the rocks with a clang. “What? Are you guys not talking about it with them? I thought you were just keeping it from me ‘cause it’s adult stuff!”
“Siffrin has been through an ordeal,” Odile says calmly. “They decide when we broach the subject.”
Ordeal? Wait, they’re waiting for Siffrin to bring up the loops? That's why it hasn't come up yet? Oh. Oh no. That’s never going to happen. Talking about sharing his feelings is one thing, but Siffrin actually doing it is another. He doesn't think he ever learned be vulnerable in his life.
(Not that you can remember, at least.)
“I thought we all said Frin needed to share more stuff with us so they don’t break the universe!”
“Bonnie,” Mira starts, hesitant. Siffrin can feel her gaze flick over to them. “That’s true, but, um…it hasn’t been that long since…since everything happened.”
“But they won’t ever talk about it if we don’t make ‘em!” Bonnie protests.
Of everything, it’s that painfully accurate jab from the preteen that finally urges Siffrin to sit up. Isa and Mira look at them with concerned, conflicted expressions, while Odile watches with an unreadable look. Nille just seems wary about upsetting the balance of their group’s unfamiliar dynamic. Bonnie, as expected, is frowning at Siffrin from across the campfire, frying pan in hand as they cook up something eggy and sweet.
“Sif doesn’t have to tell us anything if they don’t want to, Bonbon,” Isa says, voice soothing. His gaze meets Siffrin’s. “If you're ready to talk then we’re here of course, and we want you to share, but we don’t want to push you too hard too fast, either. “
Oh. That’s…really sweet, actually.
“We don’t even know how many times they looped!” Bonnie grumbles, but goes back to their cooking. “How’re we supposed to make sure Frin’s okay if they still aren’t going to tell us anything?”
There’s a loaded beat of silence as no one seems to be sure what to say to that. The food in the pan crackles alongside the fire and the cricketsong. Siffrin thinks Bonnie is making crepes.
Odile is the first to break the quiet, setting her book aside. “Fine, I will be the adult here. Siffrin, Boniface could have phrased it a bit more tactfully, but they do have a point.”
Mira and Isa frown, but don’t interrupt. Siffrin kind of wishes they would.
“You don’t have to tell us all the details, of course, and we can guess you were in the loops for…a while, based on your, ah.”
Siffrin cringes. Their mental breakdown? When they said the cruelest things possible to the people they care about most? When they lost control of their Wish Craft and almost broke the Universe with their temper tantrum?
“Your behavior, in the last loop,” Odile finishes, surprisingly delicate. “We want you to tell us when something is bothering you, but we also don’t want to push too quickly. But…perhaps a number may give us a better scope of how…long the experience was, for you. How ingrained your new habits are.”
Siffrin stares at her. New habits? Siffrin has new habits since the loops? Have they…have they really changed that much? The thought is discomforting, like someone went and dyed their hair without them knowing. They grip their arm beneath their cloak, hard enough to bruise. An old habit.
(You think it’s an old habit, at least.)
“So,” Odile finishes, straightening her clothes as if that will help the awkwardness of the moment. “Yes. In short, I agree with Boniface. You can talk about it with any of us, but I do recommend you talk about it sooner rather than later so we know how best to help. We can’t let you go too long without speaking on the matter, but we’re aware that your mental state is still…recovering.”
She’s talking about Siffrin as if they’re…injured. Treating them like the first week after they lost their eye to the Sadness that attacked Bonnie. Like they're hurt and need to be nursed back to health.
For some reason, that makes them angry.
Siffrin clenches their fists into their pants under their cloak, fingers biting into their thighs hard enough to bruise. Hard enough to ground them. Odile means well. Siffrin just doesn’t like her talking about them like that, because the loops are done. They didn’t even happen for anyone else. Siffrin should be over the whole thing.
(If you’re so over it, why won’t you talk about it?)
“I-It’s up to you, though,” Mira soothes, holding out her hands in a calming gesture. You don’t have to—"
“108,” Siffrin blurts, before they can overthink it like they do everything else.
Everyone pauses.
“…Pardon?” Odile asks.
Siffrin’s pulse pounds in his ears. “108 loops.”
Mira jerks back, eyes going wide. Isa makes a noise like a kicked puppy, turning fully to face Siffrin. Bonnie’s expression flattens, as if they aren’t sure how bad that number is but know it isn’t good. Even Odile seems caught off-guard by the answer, complexion paling, which shouldn’t feel as satisfying as it does. Siffrin likes Odile. And now everyone is staring at him.
(Whoops.)
Siffrin’s hand twitches for their dagger on instinct, head screaming for them to redo-redo-redo but they stop themself as soon as Odile’s sharp eyes lock onto the movement. No. They aren’t in the loops anymore. They have to live with their screw-ups.
Instead, they close their eye and take a deep breath in. Hold. Then let it out. An ounce of the anxiety crawling under their skin leaves with it.
“108?” Mira asks, hushed, as if the number is sacred. “Siffrin, I don’t…we thought—"
“You went through the whole crabbing thing 108 times!?” Bonnie cuts in, blessedly casual compared to everyone else’s gravitas. Apparently, Bonnie’s earlier consideration for keeping Siffrin’s secret has slipped their mind in the wake of their surprise. “Remember when I said you didn’t have to apologize ‘cause looping would make me mean enough to blow up the planet? I change my mind. I thought you meant like. Ten loops, tops. If I had to do that over a hundred times I would be mean enough to blow up the universe.”
Siffrin barks a laugh, thoroughly caught off-guard. Thankfully, Bonnie’s words seems to defuse the tension for everyone else, too.
Isa huffs, running a hand through his hair. “Well, now I really feel like a jerk for getting so upset with you over what you said by the Favor Tree. You were probably super sick of talking to us, huh?”
Siffrin jolts, shaking their head. “N-No! I mean…yes, but you didn’t deserve what I said.” They wince, then peek at everyone else, one by one. “Any of you.”
“Yeah, yeah. You already apologized, Frin,” Bonnie says with a roll of their eyes. “We know you’re sorry. It’s fine.”
Frin doesn’t agree, but they know they won’t win this battle when they look at Mira—arguably one of the most upset with Siffrin about what they said—and see only sympathy in her soft eyes. It makes Siffrin feel worse, rather than better.
“What you said was terrible,” Odile agrees. “But it is a bit more…understandable, with the strain of that many loops.”
“The loops were my fault, though,” Siffrin says. “I trapped myself, so I shouldn’t—I don’t—"
“You don’t get the right to be upset?” Mira asks. “Siffrin, it was an accident. You didn’t choose for it to happen.”
“I think you’re more than allowed to feel upset,” Isa agrees.
“Not enough to hurt all of you!” Siffrin argues, looking down. “E-Even if I had to go through it a thousand times, that never should’ve been enough to make me—make me say those things to you.”
“Sif,” Isa cuts in, shuffling closer with his hands out. “Hey, you’re shaking. Can I..?”
Siffrin doesn’t know what he’s asking. They stare at him, suddenly registering their heavy breathing. The roaring of their pulse.
(What’s the right answer? What’s your line?)
Isa’s expression falters, but he scoots from his own bedroll to Sif’s and slowly, so slowly, offers out his hands. Siffrin takes them on instinct, latching onto them like an anchor. The fighter’s palms are warm, even through Siffrin’s gloves.
“Breathe,” Isa reminds them.
Siffrin shudders out a breath they hadn’t realized they’d been holding.
“There you go,” Isa murmurs. He starts to rub comforting circles into Siffrin’s hands with his thumbs, smiling. “Take a sec, yeah?”
Siffrin doesn’t answer, following Isa’s exaggerated breaths until their rising emotions plateau, then start to fall again. Isa pulls away, but only to scoot over and sit pressed tight against Siffrin’s side. Siffrin gratefully sinks into his warmth.
It's unnaturally quiet again. Uncertain.
Siffrin cheeks darken when they realize everyone must've seen their little freakout. They peek up from beneath their hair, grateful beyond words that everyone is pointedly not staring at them. Bonnie is cursing out a crepe that’s daring to burn and Nille has her eyes locked onto her sibling's work. Odile isn’t watching at all, looking into the distance and deep in thought.
“We forgive you, Siffrin,” Mira says, smiling sadly. “Sure, there are still some hurt feelings to talk out, but I can’t blame you too much after knowing how much you went through.”
Siffrin disagrees. Still, they look down and nod. They won't be winning this fight, not now.
Odile pipes up, “I must admit I’m curious now, Siffrin. How many loops did it take to beat the King the first time around?”
Oh, stars. Siffrin squints out at the darkness of the trees for a moment. It’s hard to remember—the loops started blurring together around the tenth one. “I think we beat him for the first time on the 26th loop?”
Isa balks at Siffrin’s side. “It took 26 tries?”
“We..?” Odile adds, unsure.
Siffrin blinks. “Yeah. All of you were with me in the previous loops.”
Mira looks surprised. “W-We were? All the way through the House?”
“Even after you said that mean stuff to us?” Bonnie asks, half-listening.
Siffrin winces. “I…never said any of that until the last loop. Before that, every loop was fine. I knew the script. I made sure all of you were happy.”
Isa and Mira trade a look. Odile’s eyes narrow.
“That’s kinda creepy,” Bonnie says, frowning as they look up from the crepe. “The script thing. We aren’t actors in one of your dumb plays.”
“It is a little unsettling, knowing you were apparently playing us for fools each time and we didn’t suspect a thing,” Odile says, though she sounds more uneasy about missing Siffrin’s deception than with the deception itself.
Loop’s voice comes to Siffrin once more.
“I pity them, though. I wonder if they’d think you’re doing this out of obligation. Or worse, just because it makes your life easier.”
“N-No!” Siffrin says, too loud. “I didn’t—it wasn’t like that. I…I had to play each loop like it would be the last, i-in case it was. If I deviated from the script, I made you worried, or upset, a-and…”
“And you couldn’t have that,” Odile says drily.
Siffrin nods, not realizing until after the motion that none of them look happy about Siffrin’s immediate agreement. They shrink back.
In a way, Loop was right. Siffrin was so scared of screwing up—despite that being all they did—that they wouldn’t even let their family friends make their own decisions anymore. Just manipulated them into saying what they wanted to hear.
Ah, hello self-loathing. Welcome back.
“Stop beating yourself up, Sif,” Isa sighs, hesitating only a moment before draping an arm around Siffrin’s shoulders like a heavy blanket. He’s warm. “We know you did the best you could on your own."
"It's the 'on your own' part that worries me," Mira says, brow pinched. "Siffrin, did you ever actually tell us about the loops? Even once?”
Everyone’s eyes snap to Siffrin, expectant. Siffrin winces.
“Of course you didn’t,” Odile mutters, pinching at the skin between her eyes. “Gems alive, I’m starting to realize you have quite the martyr complex, Siffrin.”
Siffrin frowns. He can't remember what that means, but he doesn't like the way she said it. “I just…I couldn’t tell you. What if it made you all doubt yourselves before the fight with the King? I already felt so hopeless, a-and…I didn’t want you to feel like that, too.”
There’s a heavy silence after that.
Siffrin looks around, desperate to make them understand. “Would you have believed me if I suddenly started talking about time loops?”
Odile snorts. “From your comments in Dormont, you clearly had more than enough information to convince us.”
Siffrin’s mouth flattens as they look away. They know Odile doesn’t hold it against them anymore—she sounds closer to her usual teasing, rather than actually bitter—but…
“But it’s our fault too, isn’t it?” Mira says, looking upset. “None of us noticed something was wrong with you until it was too late. We had no idea you were going through so much. If we'd just asked you...”
Siffrin shakes their head. “Sometimes I screwed up. If you ever suspected something was wrong, I just looped back and tried again.”
“Sif,” Isa murmurs, sounding sad. “I…we would’ve helped you. You know that, right?”
Siffrin curls in on themself. They might know that now. Now that everyone is still here with Siffrin even after they said the worst things to them. But they certainly didn’t know that before. They were always too scared to show any hint of the most disgusting parts of themself. So when they got the chance to hide those missteps away—
“I know,” they murmur. “Sorry. I would tell you now, if I…if I went back.”
(Liar.)
“Good!” Bonnie says, plating the food they just finished and getting to work on the next dish. “You’d better! No more hiding important stuff from us and not sharing, right?”
Isa chuckles. “Right. You got that, Sif? Anything’s wrong, you tell one of us or Bonnie’ll whack you with their frying pan.”
“You’re crabbing right I will!”
Siffrin smiles weakly as they all start gathering at the firepit for the meal ahead.
Some part of him genuinely considers it. Sharing with them, living up to Loop’s hopes. Sharing the nightmares, the nausea, the desperate hunger he suddenly has for touch. The way he can’t ever seem to fully relax. He promised, after all. He promised each of his friends, one by one, that he would tell them if something was wrong.
But…is this really something wrong? It’s more like…a slight annoyance. A too-lenient punishment, even. Siffrin can live with this. With the exhaustion and missed meals and tension. They don’t want to be a pain over something that probably can’t even be fixed. They’re just…a little broken now. More than before.
Besides, the others aren’t Siffrin’s family anymore. Siffrin messed that up. Mira and Isa and Odile and Bonnie and Nille are all going to leave, sooner or later. Go back to their own lives. So Siffrin wants to make the most of every possible minute until then. Siffrin will let them go, when the time comes. Siffrin is better. Siffrin is fine.
(Really.)