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The only dull day off turns into a journey into the past—a journey back to the day of their first meeting.
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The sun sent its first golden threads, heralding the beginning of a new, fruitful day for the freak circus. The first signs suggested that it would be a calm and pleasant day. Not only that, but today also happened to be the only day off for the circus members. One day to rest and enjoy personal activities.
As for Ticket Taker, he had done an excellent job organizing and completing his tasks for the week. Budget check? Done. Prioritizing essential purchases? Done. Dividing salaries? Done. Setting aside a reasonable emergency fund? Also done. There wasn’t much left to do, so he simply took advantage of this rare moment of free time by enjoying a warm cup of coffee and some accounting papers—for entertainment, of course.
Jester, too, found himself free from urgent duties, so he relaxed in his tent, planning for the coming week. If he finished—or grew bored—he would move to his library to pick something more engaging. Lately, he seemed particularly interested in the works of Sigmund Freud.
The Doctor watched his plants grow beautifully. He had put considerable effort into caring for them, and this particular plant was very special. He had, in fact, fallen in love with it. After all, one doesn’t get to care for a beautiful belladonna plant every day, does one?
As for Harlequin, it was just a dull and boring day. He had designed new puppets, repaired the old ones, and practiced his performances for the coming week. What could he do now?
And is that even a question? Of course, he would go to his first and favorite target—Pierrot—to see what he was doing and, of course, to annoy him. After all, Pierrot had the best and most entertaining reactions.
With excitement and a playful look, Harlequin entered the kitchen where Pierrot was preparing lunch for the day.
“Ooooh, Pierroo~ Are you preparing food? Why don’t you let me handle the stove? You know how skilled I am at dealing with it. Don’t you remember last ti—”
Harlequin swallowed the rest of his sentence when he noticed what Pierrot was cooking. What was going on in that red clown’s mind for him to cook this particular dish, after all this time? There, on the pan, lay a large fish cooking over low heat.
Harlequin’s mind drifted far, far away, leaving reality—and Pierrot’s annoyed voice ordering him to get out of the kitchen—behind. This sight had taken him back decades, to gray days when Harlequin was still a child wandering this vast land. All that land had been his—it was all his home. Now that he had no home, no family.
For the sake of his younger siblings, and so that his parents could take care of them under harsh and difficult circumstances, the contract had to be undone, and some beads had to be allowed to fall apart. Harlequin was not stupid—he was fully aware of the reasons behind this fateful decision. But there was still that bitter taste at the back of his throat, that feeling as though he were trying to swallow a stone.
Out of everyone… out of all his siblings… why was he the one chosen for sacrifice? Excuses like “he is smart,” “he is clever,” “he knows how to handle difficult situations” were no longer enough. They were like stones thrown into a pond, sinking into the muddy bottom and allowing other thoughts to splash upward. Thoughts like:
Am I the first option to get rid of?
Am I really that worthless?
To get rid of such disturbing and useless thoughts, Harlequin roamed the land back and forth, distracting his young mind with its beautiful scenery. He watched it change its seasons as if it were trying on a new outfit each time. He lay on the ground and covered himself with the night sky, studded with stars like pearls. He walked for days and days without direction or plan—only wherever his feet and fate led him—until he reached a shore of breathtaking beauty and a golden sunset. A scene as if it had been taken from Paradise, the one he had only ever heard about—how it is something no eye has seen, no ear has heard, nor heart imagined.
And as he gazed at the distant horizon, he saw another creature at the boundary between sand and water.
Quickly, Harlequin activated his defense and caution. Was this a human? It would be a problem if it were human—he would have to leave before being noticed. But wait… were those… horns? Three of them, actually?
Harlequin felt that sudden exhaustion that comes after a strong moment of fear, followed by relief. Fortunately, it seemed that this silver-haired monster had not noticed Harlequin—either because Harlequin had been very careful, or because the monster was simply too lost in his thoughts to notice him.
Harlequin approached slowly and cautiously so that the monster would not see him. He seemed to be around his age? No… perhaps a bit older. It had been a long time since he had last seen a monster, and curiosity was going to kill him if he didn’t take a closer look.
With each step he took toward him, his features became clearer. What was he doing? He was just standing there. Suddenly, the monster stood up and, with tremendous speed that gave Harlequin no time to think, jumped into the water, splashing it up nearly a meter high. It was hard to follow him underwater as he moved quickly and erratically. Was he chasing something? A fish?
Finally, the monster emerged from the water, crowned with success. Around his jaws lay its defeated prey.
There was one thing that crossed Harlequin’s mind after witnessing this display:
This was the worst hunting strategy he had ever seen. Even his youngest siblings could do better.
Harlequin’s train of thought was cut off by a sharp sound that made his heart stop for a second, as the creature began tearing into his prey as if it had personally insulted him. He raised his head high, then brought it down forcefully onto the prey, sinking his fangs into the torn flesh…
All of this monster’s actions were unnatural. They were frantic—as if it were releasing suppressed emotions within itself. It did not seem that the goal of this hunt was to satisfy hunger, as he stopped and stared at what lay in his hands, whispering words Harlequin could not make out, while pulling at his own hair.
Finally, the other monster noticed Harlequin’s presence. Despite his frantic behavior, he simply looked at him with those eyes that resembled embers, reflecting the last rays of the sun, as they gazed into Harlequin’s emerald ones. The two remained staring at each other for a while, until Harlequin decided to break the silence.
“What exactly… are you doing?”
"Well, what a method. Didn’t your parents teach you something more effective?”
…On that day, Harlequin almost swore he heard the sound of heart shattering in that moment—a sound like breaking glass.
The monster did not respond, but instead showed a face—a face filled with sorrow, sadness, longing, and nostalgia.
Ah… now Harlequin understood what was going on. This sad monster lost his family. Was that why he was behaving like this? If it continued this way, death would be the most likely outcome.
Several days passed with Harlequin watching this yellow-eyed monster, and his observation did nothing but confirm that it could not be left alone. This creature simply wandered here and there without purpose, going days without food, and when it decided to hunt, it did so in the worst way possible. If not for Harlequin’s interference—without being noticed, of course—he would have failed miserably.
On a beautiful and quiet night, when the moon hid itself, allowing the stars to show off their light, and on that same shore, the yellow-eyed creature stood looking at the distant horizon, while Harlequin watched from afar. Harlequin had finally reached a decision: this creature could not be left alone. It needed guidance, it needed companionship. And if that creature was hungry for a companion on his path, then Harlequin was hungry to be needed—to be someone that someone else depended on. If so, then they completed each other… so why not walk together?
His expressions were still etched in Harlequin’s memory—that glimmer in his eyes, that smile, that happiness at not being alone anymore. He asked, as he looked at that sweet smile:
“Hey, Pierrot, don’t forget table manners. We don’t sink our fangs into fish and bury our faces in it—we use a fork and a knife. Do you even know how to use them, or are you going to cry and pull your hair again~?”
“Harlequin… just remember that I’m holding a knife, and I’m not afraid to use it on you.”
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Belladonna is a highly toxic flower that can cause intense hallucinations. It was used in the past to dilate the pupils, giving a strikingly beautiful appearance, but it can definitely lead to blindness if used in excess.
Well, dear reader, I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. I worked on it quite quickly, so there may be a few mistakes here and there… don’t hesitate to share your thoughts with me.
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