Mealtime was approaching, apparently. The Traveler only made the connection when the Kid opened the room's door, plate of riceballs in tow.

The Fighter had still been sitting with the Traveler. He appeared conflicted when the door opened. The Traveler...didn't know how to feel about the look on his face. They ended up just staring at him until he spoke.

"We've been on a strict one guest at a time rotation so we don't overwhelm you or Siff," he explained. "With the huge Change you both are going through and all...we figured it was better to take things slow?"

"You guys can't just not eat though." The Kid pointed at them with their free hand. "You can't recover without eating regular meals! And Za needs to eat, too!"

"...That I do," the Fighter admitted sheepishly. He looked towards the Traveler. "Is it okay if Bonbon comes in?"

...Oh, yeah, the Kid was still in the doorway, weren't they? "Yeah, they...they can come in."

With a grin, they made their way to the bed the Traveler sat on. The riceball plate was sat on the bed next to the Traveler, and the Kid sat on the opposite side of the bed from Traveler. With the Fighter sat in the room's single chair, it felt...nice. Having company. Not too overwhelming.

The Fighter and the Kid immediately grabbed a riceball each and started eating.

The Traveler gave the plate a much more hesitant look.

"You can't just not eat," the Kid reiterated. "Or...or..." It was near-imperceptible, but the way their hands started to tremble wasn't missed. "You don't want to try my food, do you?"

Panic flared in the Traveler's expression. "No, no, it's not that!" No, no, they couldn't make them cry— "It's not that, really. It's just— I just— I don't remember the last time I ate...anything."

"You haven't..."

The Traveler swallowed as the Kid gave them another examining look. It...it had to have been at least a couple hundred loops since the last time they'd gotten a snack break. That didn't even include stardust's loops, either; not like some bodiless star needed to eat. Even before that, though, the Traveler had started forgoing snack breaks. At some point, everything they ate just started tasting like sand in their mouth, and it all just felt like wasted time.

Way more efficient to just keep pushing ahead, right?

The Kid pointed an accusatory finger at the Traveler, startling the Traveler out of their inner monologue. "That explains it!!"

...Huh?

"You're having a lot of big emotions because you haven't eaten," the Kid explained. "Emotions are way harder when you're hungry. So you'll feel better if you eat!"

...The Traveler blinked.

Were they...correct? Was that why everything felt so bad all the time, to the point where the Traveler went and attacked stardust over it? Not to say that was the only reason, but if it was contributing—

A riceball was abruptly shoved into the Traveler's hands. Looked like the culprit was the Kid, who was still staring at the Traveler intently. The Traveler looked down at the riceball with an unreadable expression, before shifting their gaze towards the Fighter.

He was smiling kindly at them. "Go ahead." His tone was gentle. "Bonbon's a good cook. It's okay."

Shifting their gaze once more to the riceball, the Traveler's face felt...warm. They trusted the Kid's ability to cook, that wasn't the issue. Several thoughts were racing through the Traveler's head: when was the last time they ate, did stars really need to eat after all, did that really matter when they were back in a human body, this human body didn't belong to them and they were hurting it by not eating, did they even remember how to eat anymore?

The growl of a stomach interrupted the train of thought that had been hurtling towards a cliff. With a start, the Traveler realized it was theirs.

After an encouraging smile from the Fighter and more intent staring from the Kid, the Traveler brought the riceball towards their face, leaned towards it, and took a bite.

Oh.

Oh, they had forgotten—

"Why are you crying?" the Kid asked.

The Traveler lifted a hand to brush against their cheek. Oh, it was wet. They were crying, weren't they?

In a panic, the Kid continued, "It's not bad, is it? I can make something else! I can make something better! I can—"

The Traveler shook their head. "No. No. It's...it's good."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

The Traveler had forgotten just how good food was. How enjoyable the sensation of eating could be.

With relief, the Kid smiled. "Good."

"I'm glad you like it," the Fighter added.

Of course the Traveler liked it. It was made with care, from a...from someone that used to be their friend. Content, they took another bite. It was amazing how stabilizing something so small could be, wasn't it? All three of them ate in silence for a time, the Kid and the Fighter sneaking occasional glances towards the Traveler, who couldn't remember the last time they felt this...happy.

Soon enough, the riceballs were all finished. The whole experience was such a blur of emotion that the Traveler didn't remember much of the actual eating, but that was okay. The experience was etched in whatever was left of their heart.

The sound of a throat cleaing brought the Traveler back to earth. The Traveler looked towards its source.

Looking nervous, the Kid spoke. "Can I ask a question?"

"Depends on the question." The last thing the Traveler wanted to do was to end up lying by taking back a regretted yes. Better to be honest.

"What can I call you?"

...Huh?

"Nicknames!" the Kid announced triumphantly. "I give everyone nicknames. Like Za and Dile and Belle. I was calling you 'starhead' because you looked like a star, but now you look like Frin so it's. Weird." They looked away. "I know you said to call you Loop when we met, but that's hard to turn into a nickname. 'Oop' sounds stupid. So I wanted to ask. What you want your new nickname to be."

Oh, that's right... None of that had occurred to the Traveler, but it made sense that the Kid had been dwelling on the subject.

"I don't. Know."

It really was a credit to how much the Kid's riceballs were helping that the Traveler didn't spiral right then and there. Identity was one of the big things they were struggling with right now, and of course someone had to ask what to call them before they were ready to answer.

...Not that the Kid knew, to be fair. That conversation had been private with the Housemaiden, hadn't it.

Okay, think this out. What described people besides their names? Roles, right? Even when the Traveler had long forgotten the names of their former party members, he still held on to their roles within the group. Even when the Traveler felt like they had lost the privilege of calling their former party members by name, they held on to their roles.

What was the Traveler's current role? Even the title of Traveler had been recast away from them. So what were they now?

"For now, you can call me...Laris."

Polaris. The pole star. A fixed point in the sky that did not move, much like the Traveler and their original timeline.

The approach of the King

Far too slow, as if awaiting eternity.

Far too quick for any true preparations to be made.

She made every preparation she could think of. Lock every door, hide every key, set every trap. Even knowing it would be futile, she had to try. It was her duty, as the Head Housemaiden, to ensure the safety of the House and every Housemaiden within its walls.

(How could you possibly expect to stop the King when everyone else in the King's tearsoaked path had already succumbed to his curse?)

She even turned towards what the people of Dormont believed to be desperate superstitions. (Deep in her soul, you knew it was more.) The townsfolk asked favors of the Favor Tree, and she asked them each what they wished for.

Did enough people wish for salvation? Did anyone know the proper ritual to do so? Would the Favor Tree channel their wishes the way she hoped?

...When floating tears appeared on the edges of the town, she knew they were running out of time to find out any answers to any remaining questions. The King approached, and Dormont...no, Vaugarde was depending on her to stop him. Depending on her to save the country.

Save this country that...

That...

(...Huh? Oh...right. You're a Head Housemaiden, Euphrasie. Time to prove you're worthy of the title.)

Hands balled into fists, she stood in front of the King.

Trying to look and feel as intimidating as she can, she still feels powerless. Even with her taller than average stature, the King was practically a giant compared to her.

She doesn't know what to expect, she doesn't know what he's planning, but there's no other choice. No other option, but to stand here and fight.

The King seemed to be charging up an attack, which was fine by her. Calling upon her Craft, she stood strong, prepared for anything. (Your defense was boosted!)

One of the King's fists shifted to the side, letting a single eye of his peer down at her.

"...The curtain falls, Head Housemaiden."

(You see a vision of the future...)

She couldn't move. She couldn't see. She couldn't feel.

This was the end.

(How would you rather die, Euphraise? Frozen in time? Choking on your own blood?)

(You would rather die... In tears and ti—)

--

Blinking awake, she peeled herself off her desk. It looked like she fell asleep amidst her notes, studying for any chance of victory against the King while there was still time to prepare.

That...that dream? Was that a dream? Fighting against the King, being defeated in a single strike? It was so vivid, felt so real.

Even down to the final detail: the amount of pain she felt, facing her own death. Facing her own failure.

...

She looked down.

In her hands was a spreadsheet; a column of names, a row of wishes, showing who in Dormont had wished for salvation against the King. A spreadsheet of wishes brought to the Favor Tree.

It felt so familiar.

The smell of sugar danced in the air.

Before she could give anything another thought, her studies were interrupted by another Housemaiden entering her office. Claude, of course it was Claude. Offering a cup of tea and words of encouragement.

Always so thoughtful.

The longer the two spoke, however, the more Euphrasie realized—

They had already had this exact conversation in her dream. Down to the same joke that she made that made Claude snort with laughter in the way she loved.

-

Your family was still taking shifts on watching over you while you recover. And after you and Bonbon finished eating, Odile came in and announced her shift was starting.

Bonbon made you promise you would eat more later, said their goodbyes, and waved as they left to get their own rest in.

You watched as Odile crossed the room. She sat down in a chair at the far corner, opened her book, and...stared at you.

You stared back. The two of you sat in silence, engaged in a mutual staring contest, until...

"I'm not good at this," Odile admitted. "You were asleep during my last shift, so all I had to do was wait to see if you woke up, but..." She rose a hand up to gesture vaguely. "Now you're awake. And I'm not good at taking care of people."

You looked away. "You don't have to do anything. I just need to rest."

Odile raised an eyebrow. "Ah, yes. Siffrin Nolastname, known for taking care of themself and accepting help from others, says they just need rest and I don't need to do anything. Clearly, I have no reason to worry."

You looked back up at her. The edge of her mouth turned up into a smile, and you couldn't help it. You laughed. You laughed, and she started to laugh, and everything felt...okay, for a moment.

But, despite the laughter the two of you just shared, Odile appeared...worried? "That wasn't too much, was it? If that was uncalled for, I—"

"It's fine." You smiled and gave her a thumbs up. "I've earned it."

She didn't look convinced, but she nodded before burrowing herself in her book for the moment.

That was...different. Odile didn't usually apologize after joking around like that. Suddenly, she was acting like you were...fragile. And, Bonbon, they were weird, too, weren't they? Like they weren't sure what to say to you, like they couldn't look you in the eye even, before...

Before...

Before asking you why you said you were Loop earlier.

"Uh, Odile..." You started off hesitantly, and Odile looked up. This felt really weird to ask about, but if anyone could help you get to the bottom of this, surely it was Odile, right? "Can I ask you something?"

"You already are."

"Right..." You stared up at the ceiling. Why did your head hurt all the sudden? "Um... Bonbon... They said that earlier I said I was Loop?"

Odile stayed silent.

"I know they wouldn't lie to me, but..." You look down at your hands, unsure how to say it. "...I don't remember saying something like that? I... I don't know what they're talking about."

You heard the sound of a book shutting. You felt a sharp gaze trained on you.

...The sweat plastered against your forehead... Was that the craft sickness, or from the anxiety?

Could Odile hear your heart beating within your chest?

(This heart that, you were still processing, wasn't rightfully yours at all, was it?)

"So you don't remember that conversation at all?"

Your heart skipped a beat; you weren't sure exactly what you were expecting Odile to say in response, but...that wasn't quite it. "So that conversation really happened?"

"Of course it did. Everyone was there for it, except you, apparently." Odile drummed her fingers against the cover of her book, one at a time. "You woke up, and when I spoke to you, you adamantly refused to be addressed as Siffrin. Just looking at your own hands was upsetting you. I got everyone else, and Mirabelle talked to you. You told her you weren't Siffrin. You called yourself Loop. And when asked how that happened, you said you didn't know. You didn't know, and you were crying, and you were shaking, and Mirabelle said you were probably overwhelmed. She asked the rest of us to leave the room and spoke alone with you. I haven't seen you since, until now, and Mirabelle told us the rest of that conversation was private."

(The painful pressure in your head was growing stronger.)

Grabbing the blanket over you for stability, you closed your eye. "Why did I say that?" The question was rhetorical; you knew neither you nor Odile had the answer. "Why did I talk like I was Loop?" You opened your eye again, and looked over at Odile. "Odile... Do you... Do you think I was just delirious from craft sickness? Or..."

"I've been puzzling over that myself," she said. Another drum of her fingers against the book cover, this time a bit slower. "I suppose delirium combined with amnesia from craft sickness isn't an impossibility."

You

did not know how to feel about that statement.

"However," she went on, "It's far from the only possibility. I won't say I've ever heard of a case of two people merging, but... It's still bothering me. The way you talked to me, to everyone... I've only known Loop for a day, but the way you spoke was identical."

You let out at confused hum. What was that supposed to mean?

"You wouldn't address any of us by name. You called me 'Researcher'."

...There were only two times you could currently remember Loop referring to your family with their actual names: once, when you forgot Mirabelle's name and begged Loop to remind you, and the other was when Loop tried to kill you.

Most of the time, when Loop talked about your family, they used titles for them. The Housemaiden, the Fighter, the Researcher, the Kid. And you were almost always stardust.

Swallowing, you confirmed, "Yeah, that's how Loop talks."

"As for an exact explanation? That requires more research." Another slow drum of her fingers. "Luckily, we are currently in a House of Change, and it doesn't hurt that we're the saviors of Vaugarde. Perhaps if I drag Isabeau with me to the library, the two of us can..."

"Can I come, too?"

She paused for a second. "You're recovering from craft sickness."

"Yeah, but... How am I supposed to rest if I don't know what's going on with me?"

(Your head throbbed with pain in response to your own question.)

"I..." Sighing, she looked away. "I'm not the proper person to judge your ability to look into this matter. I... That's a call for Mirabelle to make, I think, as our party's healer. If she says you can go to the library, it should be fine, but if not..."

...You may need to trust this matter to Odile and Isa after all.

⁂

Where Rio ended and Merag began was hard to say, sometimes. Their lives, memories, fates were tied together in a knot so tangled that no one could hope to pull them apart any time soon.

But for as long as Merag had lived the life Rio should have been able to, she felt like nothing more than a shadow.

A shadow of Nasch, perhaps. Because everything they did, they did either together or for each other. Yet, Nasch was always the one taking the lead. Nasch was the one that decided she needed revenge for being burned. Nasch was the one who decided to join the war on the side of the Barians. And when Rio had a shred of agency, all she found herself doing was...follow.

(When she first met Yuma, she'd been determined to be known for more than having a twin brother. Known for his accomplishements, downfalls, mannerisms. She wanted to be more than that? Yeah, right. What a joke.)

Or was she a shadow of Rio? Ever since finding out about her real identity, Merag couldn't stop wondering... What would Rio's life be like, were she still here? If she didn't die so long ago, with Merag stealing her identity like some kind of parasite? How would Rio have lived? What would Rio have done? And how would it compare to the life Merag had strung together for herself?

(When she compared herself to Rio, she couldn't help but think...that Rio could have done it better. Would have done it better. She wasn't just an imitation, she was a poor excuse for one.)

Or was she just...a shadow? Life kept pushing her down, forcing her to just take it and be glad she could still get up. And yet, no matter how hard Merag tried to live her own life, be her own person... Sometimes it was like she was just watching life go on without her. Days where chronic pain kept her from doing what she wanted to do. Days where the fatigue of multiple lives pulled her down too much to do what she should be doing. Days where she looked at the deck of cards that meant so much to her, and the memories that welled up were too painful for her to even touch them, let alone play the game she loved.

She didn't used to be like this. She wasn't supposed to turn into this.

Where did she go wrong?

⁂

Author's Notes:

HELLO EVERYONE IT'S BEEN ALMOST SIX MONTHS SINCE I UPDATED, honestly in a lot of that time i wasn't writing much of anything. i can explain. mother's day this year was simultaneously one of the worst and best days of my life. to make a long story short, i moved out of a really bad and abusive home situation (which i spent my entire life up to that point living in), moving out with my mom and my brother in the beginning of july. between may and july i fell into a really huge depression that i'm honestly still recovering from because of all this, and it's starting to get better as a result of the move. but. i am still, in the moving process. which is still depressing. lol. because of that huge depression i just wasn't able to get myself to write barely anything since may and i'm only just starting to get back into it, with this and a few other projects. it's been a struggle i won't lie. but it's worth it for my siffrin+loop system nonbinaries.

⁂

When you woke back up in the bed the House provided to you, it was just you and Bonbon.

Bonbon had what looked like an endless pile of food that they were going through. Probably for you and them to share; yeah, you were hungry, but surely Bonbon needed to eat, too...

It was while you're staring at them, assessing the situation you woke up into, that Bonbon looked over towards you. Seeing you were awake, their expression lit up.

Just as quickly, it fell.

Huh?

You didn't have any time to process that before Bonnie spoke, "H-Hey. Are you. How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay, Bonbon. Okay as I can be, I think." Not as rested as you expected to feel after napping, but, you blamed the craft sickness for that one.

At your answer, Bonbon perked up again. "You're okay! You're okay. That's good."

They were happy that you were doing okay.

...They sounded a little too happy that you were doing okay. For someone purely concerned about your wellbeing, they had yet to pause their task of going through food. They'd looked away again, even, their attention seeming to barely be on you at all. Not that you wanted to force them to pay attention to you, or—

Okay, they were just acting weird, okay?

Gathering up your courage, you opened your mouth to ask them what was up—

"Bonbon—"

"How did you share a body with the starhead?"

...What. "Huh?"

"The starhead. Loop?" Bonbon pulled away from their task entirely, opting too jump onto your bed and sit by your feet. They stared at you with the intensity of a preteen wondering why anyone would ever possibly run away from home. "Why are you sharing a brain and body? How did you do that, anyway? Doesn't that feel weird? Can you read each other's thoughts now?"

...WHAT.

Gently, you leaned forward, and rested a hand on Bonbon's shoulder. It hurt to move. "Bonbon. Where. Did you get that kind of idea."

They shrugged. "Earlier when you woke up Dile was telling us you were acting weird, and when we came up to check on you you told us you weren't Frin. You told us you were Loop."

Your grip on their shoulder tightened. "N-Now's not a great time to play pretend, Bonnie..."

"I'm not! That's what you said!" They puffed their cheeks out. "Ask Za or Dile or Belle, they were there, too! I wouldn't lie or joke about that!!"

...

Okay, two possibilities here. One, everyone decided to play a collective joke on you. While you were recovering from craft sickness. After you almost ended the world. Or, two...

"Frin, you're shaking again."

...YOU DON'T REMEMBER ANY OF THAT HAPPENING THOUGH?? Why would you tell them something like that, anyway?? It's not like you were trying to Change? Stars, are you really that sick???

"Frin?"

You shook yourself back into the present. "I. I was probably delirious? From craft sickness? Again? Bonbon, I... I'm not Loop. I promise."

They stared at you.

"I super duper promise," you reiterated.

"...Okay." They did NOT sound like they believed you. "If you say so. Frin wouldn't lie, so..."

"Nope. No lying. I'm just sick."

"Just sick," they repeated. "And food helps with sick, and Frin's always hungry, so... Maybe Frin needs food!"

You managed a laugh. Ow, that hurt. "I always need food."

"I already have food ready!" Bonbon puffed their chest out proudly. "I have the boring stuff all sick people eat to get better but I have other things too if you want something different! You get to pick!!!"

They go through their options, and you dutifully listened to each one while thinking over what you want.

At the same time... Your thoughts also wandered. Bonbon said that you had told everyone that you weren't Siffrin. That you were Loop. Assuming that really happened, because Bonbon wouldn't lie to you, there were a couple of options. One was that you were just so delirious from craft sickness earlier that you spewed nonsense and then completely forgot about it. Two... Two was that, well... Loop had said when they disappeared, they and you could possibly fuse and become one?

Did that happen?

Briefly, you stared down at your hands, and mentally...called out for Loop? Asked if they were there? Like when you used the hand sign they taught you, just without the actual hand sign? Was that how it worked? Was this how you should do this?

You

did not get an answer.

Bonbon had finished listing our their food options. You mentally went through the ones you remembered them telling you. Nothing sounded any better than the rest, so you picked an option at random. Beaming, Bonbon gave you a plate filled with palmiers.

At their insistence, you picked one up and took a bite.

They were just as messy as you remembered.

Putting the plate down in your lap, you raised your now free hand to give Bonbon a thumbs up. The resulting smile you received was enough to warm an entire planet.

You offered them a palmier off their plate.

"Those are for you, stupid Frin!" Oops, Bonbon's smile was gone. "They're to help you feel better!"

You looked down at the palmier in your hand, then back up at Bonbon. "...You know what would also help me feel better? Knowing you're not hungry and that you ate, too."

"I'm not hungry. Stop worrying about me, when you—"

A stomach growled, and it wasn't yours. You raised an eyebrow, and gave what you could only hope was the most smug grin to ever grace your face. Bonbon rolled their eyes, but still smiled again as they took the palmier out of your hand.

"Fine, you win. This time."

"This time," you agreed as you grabbed another palmier.

And as the two of you chatted over palmiers, it really started to feel like how things used to be again. Before Bonbon got upset about you losing your eye to protect them.