Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Am I really surprised at this point?

And Boombox said he’ll actually wake up on time today…

Boombox and I, we walk together to school everyday, we’re both high-school students. Though, we’ve known each other since middle school. He’s my neighbor and we’ve basically interacted every single moment since day one. Not saying that’s exactly a great thing though, it was kind of forced upon me. He’s definitely somebody I wouldn’t have made friends with on my own and yet I guess I could consider him my “best friend”. Well, if that’s the best phrase demons would use to describe our relationship.

Boombox and his childish ass… sometimes I find myself loathing it and other times, it ends up being the highlight of my week.

Right now, I’m outside of Boombox’s door, and waiting for him to finally wake up. He never wakes up on time, it’s been like this for years. I’m used to it but it's unequivocally annoying to be as late as him every morning.

And right on cue, Boombox flew out of his house. He had his gear in his fingerless-gloved-hand.

“You can’t bring gears to school,” I reminded him, crossing my arms.

He spun back around and bolted through his door again, “Right-!”

A second later, he reunited with me on the sidewalk. I immediately went ahead of him as he rushed to keep up with my pace.

“What’s the rush for, Clock?!” Boombox complained.

“We’re late.”

“Oh- Yeah, yeah, I just forgot!!” Boombox said with a dopey smile.

Boombox was a mess, his uncombed white hair peeking from the crevices in his cap and his dark green unbuttoned blazer and black pants with a neon green star-pattern on one pant leg wrinkled and lopsided. He also wore a light green undershirt, a neon green tie with more silver clips and star-shaped pins attatched to it, and raggedy black shoes with off-white tips and neon green laces. Typically, he'd have a long and thin neon imp tail but most students prefer to hide their tails under their uniforms if they can.

His glowing-visor also happened to be tilting off his face and his cap was falling down the back of his head. I paused him and readjusted his visor and cap before they actually fell off.

“You’re so immature. I have to fix everything with you,” I scolded.

“Well, I would’ve fixed it later at school! You didn’t need to do that…” Boombox grumbled, clutching the silver accessories on his neon green horns.

I glanced at his hand, “You bought more accessories at the mall yesterday?”

“Of course I did, they were on sale! Sling and Skate told me they looked cool.”

“About Sling and Skate… are they gonna be at the Arts and Crafts Club today?” I asked.

Ah yes, I almost forgot about that club. Boombox started that one in freshman year, he’s the president. He forced me to join because when do I not let him drag me around? It’s kind of fun, I guess. Vinestaff is a part of that club, she vehemently doesn’t like me. But anyway, we just do a lot of origami and build with popsicle sticks and crochet periodically. I haven’t been attending a lot of the meetings as of late, I’m losing motivation to go on my own. Boombox’s been too busy managing his other clubs.

“Probably? I can’t go today though,” Boombox said, scratching his head.

“Of course you can’t. Is it the EDM club or something? The one you’re the secretary for?” I questioned.

“Nah, they’re doing renovations on the classroom so we can’t meet until next week…” Boombox explained dejectedly before his voice lightened up, “It’s for a new club!”

My eye widened, “Excuse me? ” 

Doesn’t that make three clubs he’s a part of then? Three?!

Boombox began skipping joyfully, “And I’m the vice president of that one! It’s so exciting to start new clubs!! It reminds me of being a freshman again!”

I facepalmed, “You’re such an overachiever.”

“It’s not that big of a deal to be in so many clubs!” Boombox pouted.

“Considering that you’re failing half of your classes, yeah, it is,” I chided.

The illuminated green eyes on his visor rolled, “Relaaax! Everything’s always under control, the semester barely started anyway.”

I giggled, “Hm, with that attitude, I don’t think I’ll be tutoring you anymore.”

“WHY?!?!” Boombox cried out in dismay.

“Because you’re an idiot and I can’t stand stupidity.”

“Oh yeah?! Well, I think you're a grumpy shut-in!!” Boombox insulted back.

“I go to one club, that’s enough for me,” I sighed.

“You don’t even go unless I’m with you!! You need to join more clubs!” Boombox declared.

“No.”

“But- But- you said that you would!” Boombox argued.

“No? You must’ve drugged me when I said that if I did,” I responded.

“At least think about it…”

“Maybe.”

------------

School was agonizingly slow today. At least it was finally over.

Pretty uninteresting besides the certain 7-foot bastard that loves following me during lunch and PE. But that’s an everyday occurrence, so nothing different today. I went to pack my books into my bag to hull them to my locker to drop off on my way out of this cursed building.

Hm. If only I could actually join any new clubs.

I was thinking about it a bit more today. It honestly just doesn’t sound that viable, I always have to get Boombox to introduce me. It’s embarrassing but I’m positive nobody really wants to get anywhere near me without Boombox around. As far as I know, Boombox just gives me a better impression on others since if he can make friends with somebody as “standoffish” as me then I must be a decent person. There’s no way in Banland I’ll force Boombox to join any new clubs though.

And speaking of clubs, what clubs would there be so accepting of me on top of following my microscopic list of interests anyways? Probably not many, if not, none. It’s just a waste of time to bother throwing my mental energy at this.

I nearly dropped a textbook on my foot when somebody tapped on my shoulder.

My head shot back, glaring. Apparently, I was staring at the blank wall the entire time.

Boombox.

“Sorry!” Boombox immediately apologized, frightened.

“What do you need? Aren’t you supposed to be at a club?” I asked.

“I was passing by, just wanted to wish you luck on finding a club, Clock!”

“Oh, well, I’m definitely not doing that now,” I responded matter-of-factly, “Thanks anyway.”

“What?! Why?!” Boombox asked disappointedly.

“Not interested. Or not motivated enough.”

His eyes suddenly lit up brightly, “I have an idea!!”

Oh great.

“You should come to my club!” he enthusiastically proposed.

“Absolutely not,” I rejected instantly, “What club even is it?”

Boombox twiddled his thumbs, “...Literature.”

“Ha, I didn’t even know you could read any of those books at your place…” I teased.

“That’s besides the point! And I can read for your information!” Boombox spat, “C’mon! I’ll even show you around!! There’s not a lot of people anyway!”

“I don’t even read outside of school…”

“But it’ll be FUN! You might even finally make new friends!!” Boombox pleaded.

“Literally all of the other juniors presently don’t or will not like me,” I grumbled.

“HEY! That’s not true! And they’re all seniors anyway!! PLEEEAAAASEEE???” he pleaded again desperately. I’m surprised he didn’t drop to the floor and start licking my shoes.

I sighed, “Give me one very good reason to at least check it out and I will do so with zero hesitation.”

He twiddled his thumbs again, “W-Well, I might’ve… told the others that I was planning to bring a new member ‘n stuff…”

“Seriously? ”

“And one of the members was planning to give out ‘surprises’ and snacks for said new member…” he continued.

I facepalmed, “That’s not a reason, that’s just you being stupid.”

He dropped to his knees, palms pressed together like he was worshiping a deity, “PLLLLEEEAAAAASSSEEE?? Only 10 minutes, okay?! You’ll be in and out!!”

“Fucking swords- Fine,” I relented.

Boombox immediately jumped up onto his sneakers, yanking me by the wrist, “YIPPEE!! Let’s go, let’s go!”

I barely grabbed a proper hold of my bag before Boombox dragged me away with absolute giddiness.

The hallways were entirely barren by now, students had either rushed home at the first chance they got or had already collected into their respective clubs. Boombox brought me to a classroom in a section of the school with little to no clubs, it was in the 4th-year portion of the school. I’ve never been in this portion of the school but it wasn’t necessarily far from my last class.

Boombox kicked the door open, presenting me to the few members inside. 

“I’m back guys!!”

WAIT A DAMN MINUTE.

One of them waved with a toothy grin, “Oh, Cuckoo Clock, I didn’t expect to see you here!”

…I would’ve never expected in a trillion years to see him in a damn literature club.

Another one pushed him out of the way, greeting as enthusiastically, “HI, CLOCK!!”

Boombox scratched his head, “Hey, Subspace! You and Banhammer know her already?”

Subspace jumped right in front of me, grasping me by the shoulders to shake me around, “OF COURSE I KNOW HER!! I know everyone and everyone knows me!!”

Fuck. Subspace. A pink four-horned demon wearing a golden-buttoned, dark-gray blazer with lighter gray Blackrock-style stripes on the cuffed sleeves, black and gold buckled straps as accessories around both of his upper arms, and baggy, black cargo pants, literally only held around his waist with a pink belt. His undershirt is also a neon pink but no tie. He has a gas mask over his lower jaw with a black cloth over his left eye. I'd prefer to not get into detail about what those items are covering up, it's a long story. He also wears long matte-black boots with bright pink laces. He also has long, fluffy, white hair with a floating pink crystal in between his top horns and a pink scorpion tail flairing out behind him. Despite having an obvious eyebag under his remaining eye, he is definetely not the lethagic type. My… “father” is friends with his parents, they work together. 

Work together at Blackrock…

And I’ve known him ever since- No, why the fuck is he even here?! That’s just the WORST CASE SCENARIO…

“You must’ve wanted to see me again, right?!” Subspace chuckled, “I haven’t seen you in a few months!!”

Banhammer towered over the three of us, smiling, “Let’s not invade the new member’s personal space, Subspace.”

Banhammer. A stupidly tall, purple-horned demon wearing a purple blindfold over eyes nobody’s ever seen before. His uniform is entirely black with grayish purple armor-style plating on his shoulders, on the cuffs of his sleeves, around his waist, and on the bottom rims of his cargo pants. His undershirt is a bright purple with a dark purple tie tucked neatly under his blazer. There’s also a purple crystal protruding from his chest and he wears tall dark-purple boots but with silver accents and neon purple laces. His hair is also white, tied in dreadlocks held together by silver clips, and dark and neon purple dragon tail.

Son of the school’s Dean of Students, Windforce, who also happens to be a deity. Basically, nobody likes Windforce around here, she’s harsh, some think she’s tyrannical. Nobody likes her policies and strictness of enforcing rules and in turn, not everybody likes Banhammer, including me. Just for a different reason. He’s the typical annoying jock. All he really does is talk about his mother or play varsity golf or talk to me about useless shit. I personally think he’s a spoiled brat but I don’t know him well enough to really confirm that prejudice. He also happens to be as much of a stickler for rules as his mother, which makes him more complicated to tolerate.

Again, I would’ve not expected to see someone like him to be in a literature club.

“She doesn’t mind, why would she?!” Subspace hissed.

“Subspace!” Boombox scolded.

Subspace backed off, rolling his eyes. He took a couple of steps aside.

That was not enough.

I glanced behind myself. Maybe, I should just make a run for it, screaming for the deities to put me out of my misery. I definitely would love to do that right now. But nope, Boombox is standing basically behind me, smiling obliviously. Oh, how I regret my life decisions sometimes.

“...Hello to you both,” I mumbled, crossing my arms apprehensively.

And then I noticed the head of another figure sitting at a desk near the window. Teal antler-like horns with a golden ring hanging from the right one, a glowing greenish-blue crystal between them, and messy white hair tied back into a short ponytail. He’s familiar. I just can’t remember where immediately… His face was buried in his book.

“Meddy!!” Subspace called out, waving his arms, “COME SAY HI!”

He dropped his book down slightly, glaring at Subspace, before flipping his book down onto the table to save the page. He arose from his chair and approached the group at the door, standing on the exact opposite side of Subspace. He glanced at me sullenly, raising a dark gloved hand for a handshake.

“Hello again, Clockwork.”

I took his hand hesitantly, “Hello.”

Right, that’s Medkit. Dark blueish-green uniform blazer, with checkered cuffs and golden clufflinks on the sleeves and golden buttons on the coat itself, over his bright teal undershirt and lighter blueish-green, checkered slacks, and heeled, black dress shoes. He also wears a teal cravat tucked under his clothes at his neck and a dark diamond shaped eyepatch with yellow outlining over his left eye. He has a very evident eye bag under his remaining eye like Subspace. I believe he has a deer tail but he probably keeps it under his uniform. I knew him from the Arts and Crafts Club but he quit a month in. We barely spoke. I don’t know him that well besides that.

“I already told her about everything so there’s no need to explain!” Boombox elaborated after a second.

“Is this one going to stay this time, Boombox?” Medkit questioned skeptically.

Boombox sweated, “Well- Obviously!”

“I’m just checking things out, I don’t know if I want to stay,” I corrected.

“You won’t want to…” Medkit sighed.

“It’s your fault people don’t stay when you have that attitude!!” Subspace scolded.

Medkit seethed but he didn’t bother to respond.

“Be a bit more welcoming, you two!” Banhammer insisted, “Welcome to the Literature Club, Clock!! I’m actually the president, so…”

“What?”

That’s even more unexpected… Him? Starting a book club?

I would’ve assumed Boombox was the actual president beforehand if he didn’t tell me about his vice president role. I’ve seen his insane book collection in the bookshelf next to his bed, I guess he really does read in his free time. Well, obviously he joined a literature club out of all new clubs for a reason.

“That’s right!” Boombox agreed, clapping his hands, “Make yourself at home!!”

He nudged me along deeper into the clubroom before I could interject. Boombox quickly sprinted to the back of the room and into an open closet. I stood there awkwardly, cornered by Banhammer and Subspace. He returned with a metal chair, dragging it loudly across the wooden-panel floors. He placed me onto said chair.

Apparently, it really is just the four of them here. Though, the concept of a literature club wouldn’t be that appealing for new members to begin with so it’s not that surprising. What is surprising is that the club is full of people that I’ve met before, fortunately and unfortunately. At least, it would be much easier than interacting with random seniors. The stars aligned in the worst possible way.

“Do you guys just read here or… something?” I asked Boombox, raising an eyebrow. I wasn’t exactly sure what to say.

“Well, admittedly-” Boombox began.

“We’ll be doing other activities eventually , but for now, yes,” Banhammer explained, embarrassed.

“Me and Banhammer started this club a few weeks ago, actually,” Boombox admitted, “We’re still working out activity ideas but you’ll probably have some once we get into the swing of things!”

“...I didn’t know you two talked,” I mumbled.

I’m 50% sure that I don’t want to join. Especially with Subspace around. At least Banhammer has some tolerable qualities, especially right now…

“Even if you don’t read…” Boombox remarked, “I’ll be glad to show you the ropes! I have plenty more books in my closet, actually. You should borrow them!”

And then, of course, Subspace abruptly threw himself in, “BLAH BLAH BLAH!! Literature club, and yeah, we just read!! Except these DIMWITS read nerdy things,” he ranted gesturing vaguely towards Medkit exclusively, who had gone back to read at his desk, “I’ll have plenty of better recommendations for you, Clock!! Just ask me first!!”

Medkit frowned at that.

“He reads hard-cover encyclopedias and calls that literature!” Banhammer laughed, “Don’t worry about him.”

“BUT IT IS LITERATURE!! It’s words on pages!!” Subspace shouted, “...YOU KNOW WHAT?! That’s it!!”

He suddenly jumped onto a desk, his boots clanking against the smooth surface of the tables. He stumbled backwards for a second, and I swear I think I saw his life flash before his eyes. He had his hands on his hips, standing boldly and pridefully like nothing had even happened. Even with the additional height of the desk, he was barely taller than Banhammer, who was glaring at him with annoyance through his blindfold.

“Get down, the teacher will get pissed if we leave with dirty desks,” he demanded.

“I’ll clean it later!! But anyway,” Subspace began, “BEHOLD!! MY GREATEST INVENTION.”

And right on cue a tiny creature flew into the classroom, buzzing with drone noises. It landed on Subspace’s open hand, standing up straight like Subspace is. It has a small humanoid shape, constructed from scrappy bits of golden and silver metal. Some orange glowed in between the gaps in its structure in and from its “eyes”. It also has stringy bits of metal wire that resembled horns, glowing orange at the tips and a slightly oversized propeller on its head.

I raised my finger up, “The hell is that?”

“Slaves!” Subspace proclaimed, way too casual.

Boombox’s mouth was hanging agape but he wasn’t saying anything.

“Don’t bring your inventions to school, Subspace,” Banhammer groaned, hand against his face, “This is the tenth time this month.”

“I didn’t bring them to school! I built them during lunch!!” Subspace corrected irritably.

“Same thing!” Banhammer rejected, “Wait- Them? ”

Subspace had a smug look on his face, “MATERIALIZE MY MINIONS!!”

And then another twenty of them swarmed through the door, four of them at a time carrying plastic bags on string. They dropped their payloads onto a random desk before landing in a neat, organized line on the teacher’s desk. Boombox examined the contents of one of the bags before his eyes lit up once again. He yanked out a white box from the bag, laying it out onto a table before opening the lid.

“DONUTS!” Boombox excitedly exclaimed.

Medkit’s head peeked from behind his book.

“See, I didn’t bring a pipebomb this time, Banhammer!! ”

“You can bake?!” Boombox squealed, leaping towards Subspace.

“...O-Of course, I can! I just didn’t have time because you gave me such short notice!! So I just acquired a box of them!!” he stuttered.

“...Acquired?” Banhammer questioned, suspicious.

“Okay, even if I HAPPENED to ‘steal’ them, which I didn’t, it isn’t like the bakers would’ve cared because they’d feel honored for me to love their baked goods enough for me to ever-so graciously borrow them!!” Subspace explained, jumping off the desk nervously.

Boombox’s visor had starry eyes, “Can you bake cupcakes, Sub?!”

“Of course!! Only for a 100k bux!!”

Boombox began jumping up and down like a hyperactive child, “I LOVE CUPCAKES!” 

“He stole the donuts,” Medkit stated plainly, standing idly next to me, “Probably everything else too.”

“I can tell,” I mumbled to him.

“IMPROMPTU SNACK TIME!” Boombox declared, apparently he didn’t hear either of them, “We can eat together as a club for the first time!”

“I guess we’ll just push some of the desks closer together?” I proposed.

The others just went along with it wordlessly. Banhammer, Medkit, and I gathered six desks and began pushing them together. Meanwhile, Boombox was fawning over Subspace supposed “baking expertise” while Subspace loudly bragged about it. Once the tables were together, Medkit left into the closet silently. Banhammer and I brought some chairs over.

I audibly sighed to myself.

“Something wrong?” Banhammer asked.

Words leaked from my mouth, “I just didn’t expect something like this to be so lamentable.”

Shit.

I mentally recoiled, I don’t think that’s an appropriate way to phrase that opinion…

Banhammer smiled at me, “You’ll still have a few great moments to leave with, whether you join or not.”

“Hm. Thanks,” I answered blankly, attempting to conceal shame.

Now that the chairs were in place, everyone began to take their seats. Boombox dumped out the contents of the plastic bags. Apparently, the little drones managed to steal party sized bags of chips, sodas and apple juice, and paper plates. He laid everything in the middle of the group, salivating gluttonously, of course. Medkit was still in the closet. I sat in the same metal chair Boombox brought since I’ll probably end up breaking with wooden school chairs…

Medkit eventually emerged from the closet for a moment, leaving something on the nearest desk before reentering and popping back out, carrying more in his arms. He picked up one of the items he brought out, it had the outline of a plastic tea kettle, one of those electric ones. The plug was dangling out from between his arms. He then plugged into the outlet near the teacher’s desk and left the kettle. Returning to the back, he also took a water jug before quickly leaving the clubroom.

“What’s he doing?” I asked Boombox as he plopped into his seat.

“He’s probably making tea or coffee or something,” Boombox replied, playing with his hair.

“Oh.”

Banhammer leaned back against the chair, a chair he was way too oversized for, “He has a borderline addiction to his black coff-”

With that, his chair suddenly buckled backwards and Banhammer crashed onto the floor. Luckily, the space behind him was empty of desks and people. Unfortunately, he smacked his skull against the floor with an ear-shatteringly loud CRASH!

“BANHAMMER?!” Boombox cried out, racing up to him.

Banhammer clutched his hand over the back of his head, “Swords-”

“My ears!!” Subspace complained.

And naturally, that’s the part he’s going to care about the most.

Boombox tried his best to help Banhammer sit up, and by “trying his best”, I mean he’s using the strength equivalent to lifting a handful of feathers. He’s just struggling and straining. Banhammer eventually sat up on his own and that sent Boombox stumbling backwards, landing on his ass.

“Ouch…” Boombox quetched.

I got up from my chair, picking Boombox up like a doll, “Can you not kill yourself for 5 seconds? ”

“‘Tis but a scratch, Clock!!”

I dropped him off back at his seat as Medkit returned from his voyage.

“I heard a noise. Did something happen?” Medkit inquired.

Banhammer stood up, snickering, “Don’t worry, Doc!”

Medkit sighed, “I’ll poison your drink for that.”

He went to pour the water into the electric kettle before switching it on. Then he collected the last few things on the back desk, four teacups. He returned to the large table, placing teacups in front of each of them.

Banhammer… Then Boombox… Then me… Then himself…

“HEY!!” Subspace screeched as Medkit went to sit down. He sat down as far away from Subspace as physically possible, basically on the other corner of the table.

“...What do you want?” Medkit asked tiredly.

“How could you forget about me, Meddy?! I’m your best friend!!” Subspace cried.

Medkit shot up from his chair, leaving to the closet, and returned with a singular teacup in his grip. He slammed the cup down in front of Subspace before dropping back down onto his seat, his face in his hands. 

Subspace smiled to himself triumphantly.

“Anyway-” Banhammer began.

Boombox immediately snatched a plate and then a strawberry donut spawned on it in less than a second. And half a second later, the donut was in his mouth.

“I wanted the first bite!!” Subspace lamented.

“But, I love donuts…” Boombox whimpered between chews.

The rest of us collected our preferred flavors. Banhammer took a vanilla, Medkit had a plain glazed, and Subspace had a chocolate donut down his throat. I just took one of the last in the box, also a vanilla. If only I could actually taste any of it though, sweetness should be considered addicting to demons if Boombox is endlessly indulging himself in them.

I didn’t talk much. I wish I could go home so easily. The others talked in between themselves while I tossed pieces into my mouth.

Medkit stood after a bit and went to check on the kettle.

Subspace was sitting in front of me, munching on his chips. He turned his attention to me now, unveiling the tiny, robotic creature that he had in his hand earlier, “What do you think of it?!”

It walked off his hand and onto the table, stanced idly like a figurine.

I glanced away, “Why do you want to know?” 

“...You should take this, actually!!”

He nudged it closer towards me, staring at me expectantly. 

What for?

I picked it up with three fingers, examining it skeptically. Say if it didn’t have the ability to fly, it’s indistinguishable from a figurine. It’s about the size of one too.

“I’ve actually been working on these for a while!! These are just prototypes!! I have all the blueprints already written out!! Subspace unabashedly rambled, “Just wait until I get them into mass-production!!”

“It’s cute,” I commented mindlessly, “I’ll take it then.”

“Cute?!” Subspace exclaimed, embarrassed, “...They’re not supposed to be cute!! What?! You think I did that on purpose?!”

“Boombox said you made something for the new member, A.K.A., me. So, I’m guessing that’s what this is.”

He seemed slightly flustered, “It’s not like I knew you’d stop by, Clock.”

“And you said you know everything, that’s funny…” I mumbled. 

“W-Well, this isn't about you!! I didn't make anything for you in particular and I don't ever intend to!!”

Medkit approached the two of us, holding a teapot in two cupped hands. He went to pour the contents into my cup, a dark brown steaming liquid poured from the spout. He was avoiding all forms of contact with the pink-horned demon to the left of him. And the drink had the signature bitter aroma of a coffee.

“I ran out of tea, the jar was empty. I’ll have to pick some up on my way home,” Medkit mentioned to me quietly.

“It’s okay.”

Medkit poured everybody else a generous cup-full of black coffee except for, well, Subspace. He left the pot in the middle of the table with the other snacks. 

Boombox gave his typical boxy smile, “It’s really good, Meds!” he complimented as he reached to have another sip from his apple juice right after a large gulp of coffee, and then he started gagging, “AGH- *cough* T-That’s not very good…”

Subspace sputtered his coffee out all over his plate, wiping off his rotten lips with his sleeve, “Why is it so bitter?! You didn't even put sugar in!!”

“...I can't say I didn't expect that,” Medkit grumbled to himself before he spoke up as sipped from his drink, “That's how black coffee is, Subspace.”

“I might as well lick Advil coatings!!” Subspace laughed, roughly setting his cup down.

“How have you been keeping a tea seat in this room anyway, Medkit?” I asked, glancing over to the closet, “I mean, this still is a classroom.”

“The teacher gave us permission to store supplies and belongings there. It isn't like we are a large club anyway so she was okay with it,” he explained.

“And why readily have drinks on hand?”

“Normally, if I had tea then it's a nice pairing to have while reading a book. The experience is more peaceful that way.”

“Oooh, how romantic!!” Subspace snickered, “Reading books and drinking tea together!!”

Medkit replied with offense, “...What are you suggesting?”

Subspace rolled his eye, waving his hand dismissively as he leaned back into his chair while shoveling more chips into his mouth with his other, “Nothing, nothing!!”

Banhammer nudged Medkit with his elbow, “Trying to impress the new member? You just wanna get her to stay!”

Medkit glanced away, “...No.”

“By the way, Clock…” Banhammer began, leaning towards me, “What made you wanna stop by? It's not everyday that people get interested all of a sudden.”

“Oh, I didn't choose to. Boombox forced me to go with him,” I answered honestly, picking at my fingers.

“I did NOT!” Boombox retorted defensively, “You could’ve just told me that you didn't wanna go and I would’ve been fine with it! But you decided to come anyway…”

“You were a foot away from having a mental breakdown on my feet, I couldn’t stand by it,” I joked.

“AN EXAGGERATION! An exaggeration, I tell you!! She’s slandering me!”

“...And I was thinking about joining another club anyway,” I finished.

“Well, you'll have an awful time if you decide to stay!!” Subspace cackled, “You don't wanna know what happened to the last guy who sold his pathetic little soul!!”

“Hypocrite…” Medkit muttered under his breath, “I think what he's trying to say is that you will have a… peculiar time here.”

Boombox leapt out of his seat, wrapping his arm around my shoulder with a bright smile, “And it'll be even better because we're all buddies already!”

“Sure… Sure we are…” I sighed to myself before I spoke a bit more clearly, “I'd need more time to think about it.”

“We got all the time in the world,” Banhammer chuckled.

Boombox returned to his seat, quickly getting distracted by Subspace’s incessant ramblings. I watched them go back and forth for a second before I glanced back at Banhammer, who was observing me continue to nip at my donut.

“Never would've expected you to start a club,” I began, “Especially a literature one.”

He smiled, “I do read, and I enjoy it a lot. Just don't got a lotta time to because of other hobbies and sports. And I've been thinkin’ of starting a club. It's unfortunate I committed to it in senior year… but when can ya really do?”

He's a little different. Not in a bad way. I guess he's a bit more warm.

“If anything, I would've expected you to start a law club or something then.”

“One does exist already, but I got kicked from that one… heh…” Banhammer chuckled awkwardly.

“Kicked? What for?” I raised my eyebrow curiously.

“The president does not like me. He's been looking for any excuse to kick me out and I guess that excuse came a few weeks ago…” Banhammer explained, scratching his head, “That's just ironic to me, the president of a law club is a dictator!”

I glanced away, “Ironic and sad. Are you planning to tell your mother or something?”

“Heh, not sure. Trying to be a bit less… uh… reliant?”

Okay, Banhammer's acting really different than usual. Never thought he'd say something like that but I heard it. I would've expected a bit more teasing and crude jokes from him but he's just suspiciously normal. Probably because he wants to convince me to stay in his stupid club despite my disapproval.

“Hm, okay then.”

Banhammer suddenly stood up, “I'll be back, I gotta excuse myself for a second.”

I slumped against my chair, “Mhm…”

Banhammer left through the clubroom doors, gently closing them behind himself. Medkit was watching him leave too as he finished the food on his plate. He and I made eye contact awkwardly. He scooted his seat over towards me.

“...Based on what Boombox said, you don't read frequently, correct?” Medkit asked.

“Only for assignments, and the books the curriculum assigns are stupidly boring,” I said after a moment.

“If you had to come up with preferences, what would they be?”

I sighed, “Uh- I guess… novels leaning towards darker themes? Those end up being more interesting than say… romance.”

“Fair.”

“Hey, that book you were reading a bit ago, what’s that about?”

“Nothing notable, my AP Lit teacher recommended it to me. I wouldn’t say it’s my favorite,” Medkit explained, “The main character, who’s a Blackrock runaway, integrates himself into a life of crime in Lost Temple after he murdered both of his abusive parents. I’m not done with the novel yet so that’s as much as I know.”

Banhammer returned a moment later, splitting off into conversation with Subspace and Boombox.

It still felt agonizingly awkward, “...What are your preferred genres anyway?”

“Mine?” Medkit questioned with slight disbelief, “Usually, I don’t have a preference but I’ve been growing interested in horror and thriller. I’ve been incorporating those themes into writing as well.”

“Huh? You write?” I leaned against the table, “Narrative writing is decently fun, I guess.”

“More like poems and short stories, I’m new to it.”

Subspace practically jumped over the table and in front of Medkit, “No wonder everything you write is gods AWFUL! ”

Medkit grimaced, irritated, “You have no right to judge when all you write is crack and shitpost.” He was pushing his chair away with his feet. 

“It’s COMEDY GOLD, Meddy!!” 

Medkit rubbed the bridge of his nose, grunting in frustration as he shot up from his chair.

Banhammer was watching the interaction when his head perked up with a realization, “Actually, that gives me an idea!” 

Boombox was stuffing his face with the last donut from the box, “An idea for club activities?!”

Everyone’s eyes darted to Banhammer.

“Here’s how it’ll go: All of us can write poems at home and we’ll share it with each other,” Banhammer proposed.

“Like a writing workshop?!” Boombox exclaimed excitedly, “And we’ll get to see each other's writing styles! That’s so exciting!”

“Hold the phone, I still don’t know if I’m joining,” I interjected.

Boombox sprinted up to me, “But isn’t it obvious?! You’ll love it here, Clock!”

“I’ve been here longer than the ten minutes you promised, at least be thankful…” I sighed, “I really should get going, please.”

On the surface, it seems nice but… I don’t even know if I can stand any of these people on a consistent basis.

Boombox dropped to his knees, grabbing me by my legs to stop me from moving, “C-CLOCK!! Please?! If you don’t like it, you can quit at any second, C’MON! It’s not as uncomfortable if you already know everybody… and I’ll still be here, you won’t be here alone!”

Even with the visor, I can tell he’s about to cry.

The others stood around him awkwardly. I couldn’t tell if they were expectant or disappointed.

Okay, well, Medkit is probably the most bearable out of all of them. So that’s one less person to drive me insane. Boombox… is Boombox. Banhammer can be a genuine person on occasion , I guess. Subspace is an egocentric fuck, he’s irredeemable.

“*sigh*  Fine. But if things up going south, I’ll peel your skin off, got it?”

Boombox sprung into the air before jumping onto me with a hug, “YEP!! THAT SOUNDS GREAT TO ME!”

Subspace stood with his hands on his hips, “That’s nice and all but I think my contribution did the most convincing, Boombox!!”

“But- But- she wouldn’t have come by if I didn’t ask first…” Boombox rebuked with dejection.

“But you told her about my little gifts beforehand, so I think I should get some thanks too…”

Banhammer facepalmed, pulling Clock away from the group for a second.

“Thanks.”

I raised my eyebrow at that, “You’re welcome?”

“I think you’ll be great friends with them within the span of a few days anyway, so don’t worry too much about it,” Banhammer chuckled.

“Correction: most of them.”

“Be a little more optimistic!”

Boombox popped his head between them with a wide grin, “Wanna walk home together again after this, Clock?”

It’s been a while since me and Boombox had walked home together, him being busy with managing clubs and all, especially after  the two of them became highschoolers. He’s always staying late at school. I guess it will be nice to have the extra time to spend with him now.

“Of course.”

“Well, I’ll be going now,” Subspace declared, already standing at the door while waving mockingly.

“No! You have to help clean up, you said you would!” Medkit shouted at him.

“AS IF I WOULD HAVE SUCH A LOWLY JOB LIKE THAT!! BUH BYE, MEDDY!!”

And he’s gone with the wind.

Chapter Text

At some point, I think I would rather just give up.

My pen’s been on paper for maybe… an hour? And nothing meaningful has been written that hasn’t been crossed out in an instant. Dammit, I’m just not a poet nor am I cut out to be. Don’t poems have to have rhyming or something? Well, I can’t really come up with rhyme pairs off the top of my head. I would need to look that shit up and frankly, I can’t be bothered when it’s 9 pm on a school night.

I glanced at the little robot figure that Subspace had given me at the club, displayed on a pile of dusty books I’ve never read.

Whatever, I really can’t just give up, Boombox will probably throw a hissy fit at school.

Suddenly, the door to my bedroom slowly creaked open. Another demon’s head peaked through apprehensively.

“Clock, Darling?” a male voice called out.

“ What? ”

“I brought you leftovers from work from… you know, the tribute at the laboratory today about… *sigh* Subspace’s parents said ‘Hello’ as well.”

“I don’t want food.”

“Are you sure-?”

“YES, I’m fucking sure, Watch . Get out of my room, you make me want to hang myself,” I barked, “And don’t talk to me about HIM or the fucking lab.”

He left immediately.

Stupid. Fucking. DAMMIT.

I breathed deeply in and out, face in my hands. My body was overheating again, steam puffing out of every orifice on my head.

Why does the world always want to remind me about- WHY?  

Ha, nobody knows nor can they know.

It will be the end of me.

It will.

I’m definitely a person, right? Don’t I “feel” like it? I’ve proven it enough… DIDN’T I? 

No. 

Why can’t I just prove it well enough? I’ve proven absolutely nothing, it still feels like computed bullshit whatever I spit out of my mouth, whenever I walk, think, see. 

Ha. And he just assumes I’m still mourning . AS IF, I’ll ever mourn about that SON OF BI-

Anyways, BACK to the poem… heh heh…

I guess I’ll just write a short story and dress it up to look like a poem instead. That’ll do the trick.

Yeah.

------------

And just like that, school’s over again. 

Boombox has been pestering me about sharing my poem early every time he sees me, I’ve been having to swat him away like a fly. 

I quickly collected my belongings into my backpack, before pushing through the crowds of students scrambling out of school. One student particularly shoved back against me hard, I stumbled backwards and landed on my ass so heavily that I probably punched a hole in the floor. The crowds funneled around me, leaving me and the student in the hallways alone.

“Watch it!” I reprimanded, I was struggling to push myself back up.

“Sorry ‘bout that, Clock,” a familiar voice apologized.

I glanced up, confused. Oh. Banhammer.

He gave me his hand and I took it reluctantly, he pulled me up.

“You going to the club or…?” I asked, sighing, “I was about to start heading there.”

Banhammer chuckled awkwardly, “I thought you would’ve gotten there by now!”

“But didn’t class just end?”

“Don’t worry about it, we should probably get going,” Banhammer began walking off, “The others are waiting for you, at least you didn’t ditch the club!”

I followed behind, my bag slung over my shoulder, “Why would I? Boombox would’ve rioted over text anyway.” 

We got to the clubroom in less than three minutes. The others were already scattered around the room. Boombox and Subspace were back to talking while Medkit was sitting as far away as possible from the two of them, reading. Banhammer and I were the last ones to arrive.

Boombox’s face immediately lit up upon seeing me, “CLOCK! HEY!”

“Hey, Boom,” I greeted, slightly unenthusiastically. 

Subspace interjected, “Clock!! I missed you too!!” He jumped on me and gave me a hug around my waist.

I would like to rip his arms off just about now.

Medkit approached us, closing his book after marking his page, “I just hope this isn’t too jarring for you. But literature isn’t the most difficult to pick up so I believe you’ll be fine.”

“Ooh, you’re gonna believe in her! ?” Subspace teased, pulling away with his hands on his hips, “You’re just so corny!!”

“I’m assuming she’ll at least be taking this club somewhat seriously, unlike you .”

“WHY WOULD I NOT BE TAKING THIS SERIOUSLY?!” Subspace cried out, offended, “I am the MOST SERIOUS here, you’re the one who’s fooling around!!”

Banhammer facepalmed, “You say that and then you nearly detonated the closet while you were building gods know what a few days ago.”

“IT WAS PERFECT. The manual was just written poorly!!” Subspace defended.

“Written poorly? By an author with a Blackrock engineering PhD?” Medkit questioned.

“Not only that, he’s been storing his comic book and manga collection in that closet too!” Banhammer laughed.

“I-I WOULD NEVER-!!” Subspace stuttered, “GAH!! T-THERE’S NOTHING WRONG WITH IT ANYWAY!! NotthatIwouldeverreadsuchthings-!!” 

“Leave him alone, you’re gonna upset him!” Boombox interrupted.

Seriously, Boombox? I know you’re an idiot but goddamn.

“HOW DARE YOU, MEDDY?!” Subspace continued, “What did I do to deserve such harassment?!

Subspace plopped onto the chair Medkit was in before, ”Nothing!! That’s what!!”

“I agree!” Boombox called out.

I dropped my hand on Boombox’s shoulder, “Can you not die on this hill, please? ” I pleaded with him.

“Let’s… just get back on topic,” Banhammer insisted.

“Oh yeah, about what Medkit said: I’m sure Clock will do her best! She always does great at the things she’s passionate about!” Boombox complimented, “And she’ll certainly find a passion in this.”

“I don’t need you to flatter me…”

“Do what you feel like doing, just don’t act a fool as much as Subspace,” Medkit grumbled.

“I HEARD THAT!!”

Medkit ignored his whining, “From what I remember from Boombox’s club, you both are close friends, correct?”

“Well, yeah…” I said.

“Since middle school!” Boombox gleefully responded, “I think you and I almost went to the same school, right?” He was talking about Medkit.

“No, probably not. I went to a Blackrock school, I don’t see a playgrounder going anywhere near that place...”

“But Blackrock can’t be all of the bad on the news, right?” Boombox questioned with disbelief.

“You’re too optimistic sometimes…” Medkit sighed.

“Ha, you can say that again,” I agreed.

Subspace abruptly arose from my chair, he planted his hand on Medkit’s shoulder, “Speaking of which, I think Med had a little gift for you, Clock!!”

Medkit immediately slapped Subspace’s arm off himself, gasping deeply, “DON’T… touch me…”

“Whoops!! Forgot!!” Subspace laughed sarcastically.

“H-How did you even know about that?!” Medkit snapped.

“I have my ways…” Subspace responded sinisterly, “It’s in his bag, actually!!”

Subspace turned on his heel, approaching a messenger bag tucked under a desk.

“Don’t touch my things!” Medkit scolded, shoving Subspace away before he got too close. Medkit snatched his bag up, dragging it over. He dropped it on the ground and began rummaging through the copious stacks of assorted books. A second later, he took out a short paper-cover book.

“I thought to get you a novelette to start off with since you’re inexperienced with literature,” Medkit explained, handing the book towards me. He was avoiding eye-contact.

“...I thought you might enjoy this one,” he continued, “It’s short but engaging enough to keep your attention, perhaps.”

I took the book with a small smile, “Well, thank you.”

Wait, “perhaps”?

I wasn’t offended but my mouth moved anyway, “Are… Are insinuating I’ll get bored from reading a normal book or something?” 

“OBVIOUSLY!!” Subspace cackled.

“No- Nonono, I meant that as in short enough for somebody who’s not interested in reading!” Medkit corrected, panicking.

Subspace finished Medkit’s sentence, “And then he’s going to quiz you on the book during your first date!!” 

“ No! ”

I couldn’t tell what Medkit’s expression was supposed to be, maybe a tinge of teal?

“I’ll read this eventually, thank you again,” I thanked awkwardly.

Medkit turned back to me, “Please take your time.”

He returned to his desk with his bag.

Subspace turned away, “I’ll be in the closet, stop by when you guys need me!!” He retreated away.

By now, Banhammer and Boombox have split away to talk. I just took a seat against the wall, leaving my backpack against my leg.

I would’ve thought Banhammer would have started the so-called “writing convention” but everyone seems to have their own things to do for now. I was hoping to be in and out. I guess not. And now the boredom is starting to set in.

Maybe, I should start reading the book right now. Or talk to someone to pass the time. Do I even have the mental energy to do either of those things though?

I flipped the book onto my lap. 

The cover has the picture of a girl painted in an abstract manner, just the back of her head though and some of her shoulders. She has a brown witches hat on and her clothes seemed to be brown with accents of yellow. Some of the background’s black and the middle is marbled swirls of dark and light purple in a diamond pattern. The title “Aether” is plastered on the front as though it were written in sloppy pen.

The book seems to be brand new, like it’s been purchased recently.

It’s a nice gesture but I can’t sit down to read. Ironic considering I’m literally in a literature club but what can I really do? Ask Medkit to hold me at gunpoint to read? He’s busy anyway, his face is buried in his substantially larger book. And then the sound of crashing echoed from inside the closet. Medkit flinched, dropping his book in frustration.

“EVERYTHING IS FINE, DON’T COME IN HERE!!” Subspace shouted.

Everyone obliged without hesitation. 

Banhammer and Boombox continued talking. But it’s in a hushed manner, I can still listen in.

“I’m not actually sure what we can really do about the lack of interest…” Banhammer mumbled dejectedly.

“Obviously, more advertising!” Boombox concluded.

“But there’s no point in advertising if the concept itself isn’t interesting on its own.”

“That’s what the point of advertising is! To sell the concept to the people!” Boombox insisted.

“What else are ya suggesting besides posters then?” Banhammer asked, his voice lighting up a bit.

“Oh! You remember the school Phestival?” Boombox mentioned, “It’s coming up on Monday next week!”

“The Phestival?” Banhammer said, confused, “Shit. I forgot about that, why didn’t you remind me sooner, man?!”

“I passed a poster for it on my way here…” Boombox admitted, “That’s how I remembered.”

“I wouldn’t have expected you to forget something like that!” Banhammer groaned.

“Heh heh, oops… But think about it, clubs set up info booths or interest meetings in the clubrooms during the Phestival! We could do something like that and we’ll get at least a few new people!”

“What would we do if we were to get a booth?” Banhammer asked skeptically, “I don’t think we’ll have time to set up an entire booth, yeah?”

“Let’s just use the clubroom for an interest meeting, and we’ll have extra posters at the Phestival so people know to come by!”

Banhammer paused him, “What’re we gonna talk about here though? Obviously, information about the club but that might be too boring by itself. I’d think it’s boring.”

“Cupcakes! We’ll get Subspace to bake cupcakes for the guests!” Boombox suggested enthusiastically.

“But-”

“Don’t worry, I’ll get the 100k bux for him in no time!”

“...We have time to think about what we’ll do anyway, we should choose before this weekend. 2 to 3 days should be more than enough to set up everything.”

“CLOCK!!” Boombox suddenly called out.

I jolted back to reality. I’ve been staring directly at the two of them for five minutes straight.

“It’s not nice to eavesdrop, y’know?! C’mere!” he pouted.

I stood up shakily, leaving the book Medkit gifted me next to my bag.

“Are you guys talking about the Phestival?” I sighed.

I remember last year’s Phestival, and it was dreadful. And awkward. And monotonous. I was fourth wheeling with Boombox, Slingshot, and Skateboard the entire time on behalf of the Arts and Crafts Club. Hated it. I’ll still hate it.

“Boombox wants to host a meeting here, we just don’t have an interesting concept for it yet-”

BOOM!

“Aw SWORDS!!” Subspace cursed.

“SUBSPACE! We’re in a fucking literature club, not a science club!!” Banhammer shouted agitatedly, “The closet isn’t your personal lab!”

He stomped over into the closet, ducking his head underneath the shorter door frame.

“GET OUT!!” Subspace hissed, “You’re not allowed to touch my stuff!!”

“Who said?! I’m the club leader, you imbecile!”

Medkit was staring with the same mortification as me and Boombox. He glanced at us with acknowledgement, muttering to himself as he returned to fixated reading.

“...Ha, I remember when I had to deal with your shit in the exact same way…” I mocked Boombox.

“I did nothing like that!”

“Oh yeah? I remember this one time we were at your place and you accidentally dropped your gear out the window. And then you jumped out of the window after it.”

“...But I was fine afterwards!” Boombox deflected.

I facepalmed, “I had to call 911 on your stupid ass!”

He was indignant, “But I told you I didn’t need it!” 

“You broke both of your ankles!!”

“Well, I wouldn’t have known that if I didn’t go to the hospital!” Boombox proclaimed proudly, “Therefore, I was fine up until we got there!”

“HUH????”

For gods’ sake, can he say anything ANY DUMBER? I’m so tempted to fucking… jump out the window. Please.

Banhammer soon came out of the closet holding Subspace under his armpit. He was flailing around like a fish out of water.

“Shall we begin sharing poems?” Banhammer announced, glaring at the struggling Subspace.

“Yeah, yeah, put me down, momma’s boy!!” Subspace taunted.

“I’ll put you down out the window!” Banhammer barked back.

“Let’s not bicker and get this over with,” Medkit said, lowering his book.

Banhammer dropped Subspace onto a seat and he shot up dramatically, waltzing to his backpack to go get his work. Everybody else went to do the same. I took my awful poem from the front pouch of my bag. 

I approached the nearest person, reluctantly, which happened to be Medkit. The others had already begun talking among themselves while Medkit just stayed in his seat. I stood in front of his desk, I still can’t sit at any of these chairs. He ended up standing too, though he’s taller than me so it was a bit more even when he was slouching in his chair.

“I’m really not excited to share with Subspace, he’s bound to complain,” Medkit mumbled, rubbing his eye.

“Neither am I,” I agreed quietly, before reaching my paper towards him, “Here.”

Mine is really short, maybe around three stanzas long?

His face was neutral the entire short period of time he spent reading it. The only thing I could hear was Subspace just yapping about nonsense.

“It’s mediocre,” Medkit criticized, but his tone was really not that critical.

“Mediocre in a negative or positive way?”

“‘Mediocre’ is a much harsher way to phrase it, it’s just neutral. But decent for a beginner,” Medkit elaborated, “It is just a story but there isn’t anything particularly wrong with that, I even do that sometimes. Some writers use it as a poetry style. Yours is quite basic, in my opinion. I don’t have much else to say besides that.”

“I thought it was too basic myself, I wasn't sure how to fix it though… I guess show me yours now?”

He passed me across his desk, I took the thin sheet of looseleaf. It didn’t have a title to it.

He received what he wanted.

I left, haunted.

I fled back to my faction, to the base.

They were gone, gone without a trace.

The place I had called home,

Where I was given a purpose and a meaning,

Now there is not even a single stone

Nor a bed to return to in the somber evening.

I had pleaded with him, clenching my teeth through the pain.

But it was still in vain.

Had he been planning this since the beginning?

To lay waste to the one person who has only been forgiving?

Or was it because of my own imperfection?

I thought he would have never turned against me, not like this.

Those thoughts crawled underneath my skin like an infection.

Didn't it all feel like bliss?

But now, I know.

The words are written within the snow.

All of the memories, all of the intimacy, all of the butterflies.

They were all based on LIES.

But I feel less rage, somehow…

I feel blanketed by a guilty conscience instead.

I don’t know what to do now.

My aspirations are dead.

I should have died without saying a word.

I should have continued to be screamed at, to be branded and burned.

I was supposed to protect the collective, my friends, my people.

I was supposed to reject the heinous, to not surrender to the whims of the evil.

And now, I sacrificed the future of hundreds of thousands to save my skin.

I am as much of a vile traitor as him.

I no longer deserve to be labeled as their kin.

The sun of hope over this faction grows ever dim.

I know what will happen to me next.

The graveness of my sin of which I cannot not protest.

I know the fire of the underground will not extinguish, they’ll be looking for me, I will die.

There will never be a day again where I can look up and see a bright blue sky.

But I cannot bear the thought of perishing in their hands.

Perhaps I shall hide away, where it all started.

Their boots may draw ever closer, rumbling through the sands.

But when they find me, my soul will have departed.

“Huh…”

Reading it was a bit disorienting. It’s just lengthier than I would’ve expected.

“I wrote that in correspondence with the book I gave you,” Medkit clarified.

I held the paper a bit lower from my face, “What do you mean?”

“It’s written from the perspective of the main character in that book. I thought it might make the book more appealing.”

“Is that character also in that book you’re reading?”

The theme does resemble something a character like Medkit described yesterday would write.

“No. They’re different. The main character is male in mine, the one in yours is female.”

I found myself smiling slightly, “I do like it, actually, I enjoy it a lot. It has a lot of… I don’t really know how to describe it besides the fact that it's impressive. Some of the language is pretty casual for what I expected…”

“T-That is as sophisticated as I could write, or… maybe a little less than that.”

“It’s better off that way,” I giggled.

Subspace then magically spawned behind me, throwing his hands on my shoulders, “I’ll show you sophistication, Clock!!” 

“Subspace-!” Medkit interjected.

He shoved me away towards the wall on the other side before Medkit could actually chase after us. He placed me in an arbitrary spot in the clubroom, whipping out his poem for me to read.

“Read it!!” 

I grunted with irritation, snatching it from his hand. Medkit approached us, placing my poem on a desk next to us before walking away. Subspace didn’t even acknowledge it, continuing to gaze over my shoulder at his Glorious Creation . Gods, it’s fucking TITLED that.

I went outside today!

Somebody said hi to me!!

So I shot him in the chest!!

What an honor!

I went to the store!

The cashier gave me a weird look!!

So I stabbed her in the face!!

How glorious!

I went to the park!

A stray dog hit my leg while I was walking!!

So I threw it into a fire pit!!

Stupid animals!

I went to the mall!

Everyone was running and screaming??

So I dropped a grenade in the food court!!

Jolly good show!

I went back outside!

There was a swat team holding their rifles at me!!

So I called for a black hole to be dropped in the streets!!

Today’s been an exciting day!

“Is this supposed to be a… poem?”

I don’t think this is a poem. More like intrusive thoughts scribbled sloppily on a piece of notebook paper.

“What else would I have given you?! A live grenade?!”

I put the paper down, “Judging from what atrocity I just read, I wouldn’t be surprised if you did.”

Subspace crossed his arms, “Oh please! You didn’t think it was an atrocity!!”

Okay, admittedly it was a bit funny to read. Only because it’s the most random thing I’ve read in a while. Randomness can be funny sometimes.

“ Maybe , it was slightly funny,” I grumbled.

Wait, I don’t wanna fucking flatter his ego. 

“YOU REALLY THINK SO?!” he beamed with pride.

Biggest 5-word mistake I’ve ever made…

“...Yep…”

And then I’m making it worse.

I facepalmed, “At least read mine, that’s the entire point of this.”

Subspace snagged my poem from the table, glancing over it with a displeased expression.

“Seems fine to me, I did a better job though!!” he cackled.

“Stop acting petty and take it seriously!” I scolded.

He continued to laugh unabashedly, “I'm as serious as can be!”

“ PLEASE? JUST…” I pleaded desperately, “Fucking GODS, Subspace!”

Subspace clenched his teeth, “Okay, okay, can you wait?!”

He read over it again. At least, he took longer this time.

“I still think it's okay, it's just not my thing!! That's all…”

“Thank you…” I exhaled in relief.

Who the hell hurt this guy so badly for him to end up being this much of a nuisance?!

“You're welcome!” he proclaimed, stepping backwards slightly as he abandoned my poem on the same desk.

I don't know what it was but his tone felt slightly deflated now. He then tore his poem out of my hands without another word and walked away towards Banhammer. His downturned tone disappeared in an instant once Banhammer glanced at him with an acknowledging frown.

Somebody else tapped on my shoulder.

“Wanna share now?!” Boombox asked gleefully.

Right, he's been wanting to know what's in the heinous concoction that I've created this entire day.

I took the paper from the table and handed it to Boombox. He gave me his. It has the title “Picnicking in the Forest” written as swirly letters in pen. The rest is written in pencil.

I love the tranquility of a picnicking forest.

The deep, dark green of fresh summer leaves.

The bright sunlight peeking through branches.

The dots of colorful, vibrant flowers sprouting from the dirt in bundles.

The scurrying squirrels and hopping rabbits sampling the abundant plantation around.

The aroma of flora and grass wafting into the air.

The scent of the breeze blowing through twigs.

The fragrance of the hearty, whole bark on trees.

The delectable smell of the freshly-baked cookies in my picnic basket

The soft, spiky feeling of the blades of grass on my palms.

The gentle heat of the sun beaming onto me.

The rough, abrasive surface of wood.

The fluffy, cloth picnic blanket at my feet.

The crisp taste of ice-cold water on a hot day.

The sweet, gooey bite of chocolate chip cookie.

The humid feeling of warm air on my tongue.

The sweetly-sour punch of apple juice.

The tweeting and chirps of birds in their nests.

The quiet humming of his music emitting from his radio.

The low pit-pats of little bunny feet hopping past him.

The rustling of the leaves from the breeze.

There’s just one thing missing from making this a perfect scene.

A friend.

And the one I need is standing right in front of me! :]

I giggled a bit at the little smiley face written at the end.

“It's cute!” I cheered, “I'm pleasantly surprised.”

“Yours is really cute too! I love cats!!” Boombox grinned.

Literally all I wrote was a story about a cat stealing treats from a cabinet.

“I've still been meaning to get a cat actually,” Boombox said.

“And then you'll dump all the high-maintenance work onto me?” I mused, “Absolutely not, I'll strap you against the pole in your basement before I let that happen!”

“I'm not that lazy!”

“Really now? You didn't even do your tie this morning,” I pointed out, gesturing to the long strip of fabric dangling undone down his chest.

“But I forgot to…” Boombox whimpered.

“Forgot how to tie a damn tie or just forgot to do it?”

“A combination of both…” he groaned.

“Stand still,” I sighed.

He moved his hands to his sides.

I left his poem on a nearby seat. Then, I took his tie and began tying it properly around his neck. Not perfect but it's better than watching him walk around like a slob.

“I'm starting to think you're looking for any excuse to stay stupid, Boom…” I quipped.

“According to you, I wouldn’t need any random excuse, I’ve got a glossary of stupid ideas!”

“Precisely,” I agreed mindlessly, finishing off the final knot on the neon green tie, “I’m gonna have to burn that glossary after this.”

“NO-! My precious!!” he cried.

I pulled away from him, “My sanity is more precious than a stupid book…”

“Oh, speaking of books… I had to use a thesaurus for most of that…” Boombox confessed, pushing his visor back against his face as he pointed to his poem on the chair.

“I guess I can tell… but you didn't have to tell me that. It's really wholesome either way,” I complimented, “And if you just wanted to go outside, you should have asked me sooner.”

Boombox rolled his eyes playfully, “You would've said no anyway…”

“But why vent about it on a club assignment? You don't deserve any more pity, you pitiful little soul!”

“Well, I didn't need yours anyway!” Boombox retorted.

“Of course you do, I still have enough in my finite supply anyway. You're lucky… but you did a great job either way.”

“You did too! I’m proud of you!” he laughed, “And proud for taking a new step into a new hobby!”

I would not call this a hobby…

“I should probably share with Medkit now,” Boombox said. He waved a temporary goodbye, sprinting giddily over to Medkit who was speaking with Banhammer. 

I followed after I reclaimed my work, knocking my hand against Banhammer’s back.

He glanced back, surprised, before glancing down at my substantially shorter form, “Did ya wanna share?”

“Mhm.”

The two of us backed away from Boombox and Medkit.

He handed me his poem without hesitation, I gave him mine. Banhammer raised a portion of his blindfold to reveal one of his eyes but he turned away from me immediately before I could catch a glimpse of what they looked like.

The train continues its voyage through the night.

And yet the group was no closer in uncovering this enigma.

They bickered for hours on end,

The nerves of the situation waning on them.

Just twelve hours before, one of their own had been slaughtered.

Slaughtered like a sheep, throat slit and then hung on the overheads in a car.

Now, the remaining passengers debated relentlessly, having gathered evidence and details.

Accusations flew around wildly.

“Crossbow must’ve done it! He has ZERO alibi and nobody can even cover for him!”

“Just because I hadn’t spoken to anyone up to his death doesn’t mean it’s automatically me!”

This was going nowhere.

And it was still a full day until they reached their destination.

At least, that’s what the screens had declared.

But hadn’t the train supposedly gotten there by now?

Well… I’m not sure what to think about it.

Banhammer lowered my paper, “Not my best work, honestly. I don’t write poems!”

“Why’d you suggest it yesterday then?”

He shrugged, “I thought it was a fun idea.”

His was also a story, albeit, a better one than mine. And with more detail included.

“I don’t really know what to say about it,” I muttered.

“Don’t really gotta, everyone else had everything to say anyway,” Banhammer reassured, “I like yours though. It’s cute.”

…Why did that sound so weird coming out of his mouth and not Boombox’s?

“Thanks…”

Banhammer smirked to himself at my apprehension, “It’s a compliment. Didn’t expect that?”

“...Do you have anything else to say about it?”

“Maybe a bit more detail, better phrasing or word choice?” he picked out as he turned away to read again, “It’s givin’ me Subspace-y type structure, I guess. The lines are all pretty short.”

Why describe it like that?! Now I just feel worse about it.

“It’s not like I had any better ideas,” I seethed slightly.

“Here’s a tip then,” he mused, turning back to me with his blindfold back on, “Be less strict with these things, or follow a distinct theme. Who knows? Maybe, the theme you choose might appeal a little better to another member since this one’s… ambiguous, I think that’s the word…”

Appeal? 

I mean, going into it, I was just writing for something that’d appeal to every member. I guess narrowing my focus might improve my work a bit…

“...Sure,” I agreed hesitantly. 

He patted me on the shoulder, “Good work though, at least ya tried!”

I passed his paper back to Banhammer without another word and I received mine back. 

I went to sit against the wall, sighing in exhaustion. Subspace and Medkit were just nearby, and Boombox has left to somewhere . The two demons were finally reading each other’s parts. Banhammer seemed to be observing from across the room as if he were anticipating something. And that something was probably not going to end well, I presume.

And that part’s evident when Medkit’s eyebrows furrow in annoyance, Subspace seemed to be frowning but less in his goofy manner.

“It’s so looong!!” Subspace groaned, “And it’s so sappy!! It reminds me of you!”

“This certainly reminds me of you as well, Subspace,” Medkit commented rather passive-aggressively.

“SO, IT’S AMAZING, RIGHT?!” Subspace beamed.

“The complete opposite,” Medkit answered punctually, “It’s making me wish I was the person getting shot at the beginning from how gods awful your penmanship is.”

“ Excuse me?! Take that back! That’s not true!!” Subspace instantly rejected.

“Quit your whining. This is barely a poem, it’s just more of your crack work again…” Medkit continued, “You really aren’t taking this seriously, are you?”

“I told you already!! I’m taking this perfectly seriously!!” Subspace reaffirmed, “You, on the other hand, just write like a depressed teenager!! It’s just so… so… wordy!!” 

“At least mine has substance, what is this supposed to even mean?” Medkit defended, raising Subspace’s poem up in emphasis.

“Substance?! It DOES have a meaning to it!! It’s just about some person who handles his annoyances in drastic ways!!”

“Really? Is that person you by chance?”

“The person in question DOES NOT MATTER! Mine’s better than yours!” Subspace declared.

“Clock didn’t even give you a single compliment for it.”

“LIES!! She said it was ‘funny’!!” Subspace proclaimed, “And so what if she flattered you?! Were you just trying to impress her this entire time?! I bet you are!!”

“H-Huh?! Why would I-?”

Medkit noticed me watching from the ground.

“Don’t talk about her like that! She’s right there!” Medkit berated.

“What’s wrong with that?!” he teased, before acknowledging me, “Oooh, Clock!? He’s trying to fli-!”

“Enough of that Subspace!” Banhammer interrupted, crossing his arms. He towered over the two of them, “Don’t argue here. Knock it off!”

Boombox suddenly returned from whatever embarkation he had just gone on, flipping the door open to hear the shouting.

“What’s going on?! I can hear you guys from the hall!” Boombox asked, concerned. Medkit and Subspace might as well have been in each other’s faces by now.

“Medkit’s hiding secrets!! He’s just doing an awful job at it!!” Subspace mused, “Hell, I can even see his eye socket gawking at her from a mile away!!”

Medkit flushed a bright teal, “W-WHAT?!”

“I said enough!” Banhammer shouted again.

Subspace grunted, “Who are you to-?! This isn’t any of your business!!”

“Cut it with the power trip! And I really don’t care if I have to kick you out if it’ll mean you’ll stop tormenting my members!”

Subspace seemed to have shrunk from that.

“I don’t care who’s doing what. Just don’t fight about it…” I sighed, cupping my face in my hands.

Subspace spat out a wobbly rebuttal, “W-Well, I just think that writing’s supposed to be entertaining and not just s-some stupid touchy shit!”

“And… I don’t think it’s beneficial when the writing gives a reader nothing to leave with besides a cheap laugh…”

I stood up as Banhammer encroached closer on Subspace, who was now sweating profusely with nerves, “Don’t talk to Med anymore for the day. Or by the Swords, you’ll be not just gone from the club.”

“O-Oh yeah?! Go call your mommy, I bet she has plenty to say!!” 

I gestured for Medkit to just stay me on the other side of the clubroom and he reluctantly obliged as he reached for his messenger bag. He couldn’t even look at me. Boombox had to silently stop Subspace from following. 

Boombox’s mouth really can’t open during arguments like these…

The two of us sat against the wall, Medkit was clutching his bag in between his legs, panting.

“You doing okay?” I asked, I think I sounded concerned enough for the situation…

“...I don’t know,” he mumbled.

“You need a water?”

“No, t-thank you though.”

…..

“I know you don’t think any of the things Subspace was rambling about anyway,” I explained, “It’s just all in friendly faith.”

Medkit was quivering, “....”

“...Sorry about him,” I whispered.

“It’s not your fault… He’s always been like this…”

I think I know that almost better than anybody else.

------------

“Just… goddammit, I don’t know how I couldn’t fucking… anticipate this, you know?” I groaned to Boombox.

We were walking home from the club meeting.

“I mean, I’ve seen them fight during the club in the past. Sometimes in the hallways too,” Boombox said weakly.

“Like this bad? And often?”

“No, he’s only gone that far, maybe, one other time? Banhammer always shuts him down though,” Boombox explained, “I just hope those two will… get along one day… That’s what he’s been wanting to do.”

“What?”

“Subspace really just wants to makeup!” Boombox repeated, “He’s trying his best…”

Yet another lie Boombox has been fed by Subspace’s conniving mouth. I can’t say I feel obliged to correct it though, I’m beyond exhausted.

“That’s what he told me he’s been wanting to do when he first approached me about joining the literature club, or, at least, I think that’s what he’s insinuating? He doesn’t admit these things directly.”

“Sure he does,” I mumbled sarcastically.

“...You’re not thinking of quitting the club because of Subspace, right?”

“I won’t. I’ll get over it.”

“You really sure?”

“He doesn’t bother me that badly.”

That’s half a lie.

------------

Another gruesome day was over.

Well, almost over. Just two more laborious tasks left. I left my keys at home so I have to enter through the garage this time. It should be unlocked.

I took the garbage door and threw it overhead, unlocked. A regrettably familiar figure was working inside of the garage, metal panels and assorted tools scattered all over the concrete floor.

“How was school, darling?” the man asked, he had a welding mask over his face.

I left through the side doors into the house.

One task done. 

I went upstairs, barricading myself in my room. Banhammer wanted to share more poems the next day, even despite the mess that’s happened today. Time to write.

Chapter Text

Today, I burst into the clubroom to hear the sound of… blasting bassy music.

Well, as bassy as a crappy phone speaker could sputter. Phonk, I think that’s what he called it. I don’t know, it just sounds like sequences of noise with the most faint whispers of a melody.

Boombox was sprinting around said phone while his thin neon tail wagged excitedly. Usually, he’d have that tucked into his uniform like the others but I guess today was different. His phone screen was face-down on a desk. The hell is he running around for anyway? He looks like he’s performing a maniacal cult ritual. Meanwhile, Medkit was face-deep in his book, clinging desperately to anything that’ll distract him from this wild spectacle. Nobody else had arrived yet.

Boombox bounced as he spoke, “CLOCK! CLOCK! HEY, CLOCK!!”

I facepalmed, closing the door behind me to stop whatever unholy atrocity Boombox is blasting from spilling into the halls, “Are you done?!”

“BUT I LOVE… THIS SONG!!” 

I stomped to his phone, flipping it over. Spotiphy was open. Apparently, the song’s called “Boom Pop”, the title certainly sounds like something he’d listen to though the music was reminiscent of Blackrock music over Playground music. I paused the song, sighing. 

“NOOOO!!”

Boombox dashed up to me right before he tripped on a loose strap of his bag.

He flopped forward, nearly smacking his head on the table his phone was resting on. He landed on his elbows, gritting his teeth in pain. 

I scrolled down on his playlist, the next song was called “One shot, One kill”.

“When did you start listening to edgy Blackrock music?” I snickered.

“DON’T LOOK AT MY PLAYLIST!! STOOOOP!” he cried, reaching for the neon-green cased phone in my hand.

“Answer my question first, stupid, and maybe I won’t shove your phone up your ass!” I smirked, stepping away from his clammy hands, “Don’t you hate those emo Blackrock kids?”

“Music is music!”

He was on his knees at my feet, groveling for his phone back like a homeless guy pleading for spare change. I dropped it down into his cupped hands.

“YIPPEE!” he shouted in celebration, bouncing on his toes again.

“...You’re really happy today,” I commented.

I mean, he’s always happy, just not this happy. He gets louder the happier he is. And today he’s explosively loud.

“AS ALWAYS!!” Boombox confirmed, “I’M SO HAPPY WE GET TO SPEND MORE TIME TOGETHER NOW TOO!! BOTH IN THE ARTS AND CRAFTS CLUB AND HERE!! AND WE CAN WALK HOME TOGETHER AGAIN!!!!”

“Can you please quiet down?” Medkit snapped, peeking his eye up from the pages.

Boombox deflated, “Whoops…”

“And happy over the most simple things… We see each other everyday either way.”

….

If only I could think like that. Ha.

“That’s my style, y’know?!” he grinned.

“...Yeah.”

“Oh, and by the waaay…” Boombox began, twiddling his thumbs again, “I was wondering if you wanted to go to the convenience store across the street. To buy snacks. Like right now.”

“Why?” I questioned, raising an eyebrow.

He began chuckling really uncomfortably, “Ohhh, well, I just saw a cool snack that I thought you should try last week and I forgot to ask you…”

“You know you could’ve bought it while you were buying snacks for the arts and crafts club this morning, right? ” I reminded, “And besides, I still can’t taste so like… why would you want me to try something?”

“I forgot about that…”

I know his schemes.

“Show me your wallet.”

“Huh? Where’d that come from, Clock?”

“Just do it or I’ll bludgeon you…”

He reluctantly obliged, pulling it out of his back pocket before opening it. You could literally see a mosquito fly out of the barren wasteland that is his crumb-filled wallet. 

“I really am going to bludgeon the stupid out of you,” I facepalmed, “You blew all your money on snacks this morning.”

Boombox and I had a party at the Arts and Crafts Club this morning, had to drag him out of bed for that one too. I guess he just spent every last penny he had on cupcakes and chips and chocolate and soda again.

“O-Okay, well, Sling and Skate wanted a buffet so I delivered!”

“More like you wanted a buffet. You ate the most, you goddamn glutton!” I scolded.

Medkit chuckled quietly in the background.

“DON’T LAUGH! IT’S NOT FUNNY!!” Boombox wept, “She’s bullying me again!! I just like food!”

“Which is why I’m surprised you don’t weigh ten times more than me right now.”

“He probably already does,” Medkit commented.

“Nah, he’s definitely almost there though!” I remarked.

“STOOOOOP!!” Boombox wept again.

I paused, “Wait, I just realized something…”

I remember on the first day… Subspace brought in a bunch of snacks for the “new member”. Knowing him, gods know he’d never do that out of his own volition. And I wonder who’s the dumbass who has an unhealthy relationship with junk food?

I crossed my arms, “Did you ask Subspace to bring in food? It wasn’t only to guilt me, was it?”

“Well I-”

“He did,” Medkit butted in.

Boombox began flailing his arms, “DID NOT!”

And then suddenly, the door crashed open against the wall of the clubroom as it swung open.

A certain pink-horned demon strutted into the room, “IT IS I!! SUBSPACE T. MINE, BESTOWING UPON YOU ALL WITH MY DIVINE PRESENCE.”

Boombox’s flailing turned into waves, “Subspace!! Hi!!”

“Don’t be so rough on the doors,” Banhammer sighed, ducking under the doorway and into the room.

He pushed past Subspace and retreated into the closet.

Boombox called after Banhammer as he left, “HI TO YOU TOO, BAN!!”

Subspace lunged forward, leaping onto the teacher’s desk at the front of the room, smiling deviously, “I HAVE AN ANNOUNCEMENT TO MAKE.”

“Nobody wants to hear it,” Medkit grumbled, lowering his book.

“EVERYBODY WANTS TO HEAR IT!!”

“Oooh, what is it?!” Boombox joyously asked.

“I HAVE A BOMB.”

He somehow whipped out a comically large, matte black bomb out of his pocket, fuse lit and all.

Banhammer practically flew out of the closet, “YOU HAVE A WHAT?!”

And then a moment later, it exploded with a briefly bright bubble in Subspace’s hand followed by white noise.

…And then colorful confetti scattered around half of the clubroom.

Boombox was shell-shocked, knocked over onto the ground like a statue. We were covered in confetti, Boombox might as well have been buried in a grave of it. Medkit was on his knocked-over chair, swatting the plastic bits off his clothes. Banhammer was spared from the carnage, still standing idly confused in the back. A bunch of stragglers were sticking to my metal.

“Bastard!” Medkit hissed, throwing himself up off the floor to shake the confetti off his coat.

“That’s so cool!!” Boombox yelped with a larger grin on his face.

“I don’t even… I don’t even want to deal with this anymore…”

Banhammer hid in the closet, defeated.

“What the hell was the point of that?” I mumbled.

I can’t say that I’m even mad. Just… morbidly confused.

“Just another one of my fabulous inventions!!” Subspace boasted, “Great for parties, in my opinion!!”

Banhammer popped out of the closet again, wordlessly walking past us and out the door. He was clutching a yellow manila folder in his large hand.

Subspace crawled down from the table, smirking to himself proudly. Medkit glanced at him with pure exhaustion as he picked his chair up. Subspace left for his turn in the closet.

Boombox ruffled his fluffy hair under his cap, “Anyways… I actually have something to ask you for if you’re not gonna buy me something.”

“I knew it,” I sighed, “What is it this time?”

“Well, I was gonna make banners to decorate the room for the Phestival sooo… I need help getting supplies from another classroom.”

“What? You think you won’t be able to reach the top shelves? I’m as tall as you.”

“But a helping-hand would be nice! Please?” Boombox pleaded, his electronic eyes on his visor getting all teary.

“Fine.”

I followed Boombox out the door. 

“Did you and Banhammer come up with any plans for the Phestival thing with the club?” I asked.

Boombox turned around, walking backwards, “He wanted me to handle some of the decorations and the posters at the Phestival so that’s exactly what I’ll do!”

“What about the others?”

“We’re not sure yet, all we know is that we’ll be going through with that interest meeting in the clubroom for sure-!”

Boombox’s back collided with a wall at a turn.

“Ow!” he grunted, “W-Why didn’t you say anything?!”

I smirked, “Thought it would be funny.”

Eventually, we made it to the correct classroom a minute later.

Boombox darted for the closet in the back. I followed. 

He scooped up a few sheets of poster paper. I took an unopened pack of markers and some colorful gel pens. Then, Boombox’s eyes landed on a vibrant yellow and green box on a high shelf.

“I-Is that?!”

“What?” I asked, turning to him.

His neon eyes were fixated on a 64-pack of crayons, “It’s the one with the crayon sharpener, THE CRAYON SHARPENER!!”

What’s he getting so worked up about that for? Can’t you just buy those at the hypermarket downtown?

“What about it?”

“I’ve always wanted to get my hands on one of these, Clock!” Boombox exclaimed, jumping up and down desperately attempting to snatch the box up.

“Okay…?”

Boombox was still reaching for the box to no avail.

“Jumping over and over won’t get it closer to you,” I facepalmed, “Come here.”

I picked him up by the armpits like he was a misbehaving toddler, lifting him to the top. He eagerly grabbed the crayon box. 

“YAY!!” he celebrated. But then his tail and leg twitched from the excitement, both smacking me in the face. I stumbled backwards in fright, tripping on my shoe. Boombox ended up slipping out of my grasp, striking his head against the shelf before he collapsed on the ground too.

He immediately sat up, “Ow-! I think I hit my head on the metal beams on the shelf!!”

I sat up too, glaring, “Watch it!”

“Am I bleeding?!”

I glanced at his forehead, which his hand was held over. He lifted his hand slightly, just to reveal a circular, warm-red mark.

“No.”

I dusted the shoe-dirt off of my right “eye”, at least he didn’t break the lens. Boombox was still clutching the intact crayon box over his chest for dear life as he gritted his teeth in more pain.

He began giggling, “Aw man! How am I gonna explain this to the others?!”

“You need ice for that.”

“Nono, you.. don’t have to!” Boombox laughed again dryly, “You really don’t-”

“No, I’ll get something. Stay here.”

I tossed myself off the ground.

“Clock-!” he called out.

I paused in the hallway, glancing back and forth. I’m not sure where the nurses’ office for this section of the school is… Down another hall, there were a set of signs but they were illegible. I began approaching the signs, staring fixated at them until I could read it clearly.

Apparently, the nurses’ office wasn’t nearby, the arrow for the infirmary pointed down towards the flight of stairs at the end of another hallway. But I know that leads exactly to the nurses’ office in my block of the school and that office is around a three minute walk away. Perhaps, this block’s office was somewhere else but I don’t want to go on a wild goose chase for it…

Just down the hallway to the stairwell also sat a vending machine, glowing dimly against the wall. I walked up to it, staring for a second at the selection screen.

Hm.

I had a few bux to spare in one of my sidepockets on my overalls. I took out a few bills, slotting them into the machine.

24, I typed into the number panel. A drink tumbled into the cache. I took it, heading back.

Boombox was still waiting in the closet, solemnly staring at the wall. But that look on his face vanished in an instant the moment I stepped towards him. I extended the drink towards him.

His eyes lit up, “Did you just buy me a-”

“The infirmary is too far away from here. Sorry.”

Boombox took it, staring at it with an unblinking gaze. He then pressed it against the forming bump on his forehead, he gave a relieved smile. I sat on the floor next to him against the wall, he was still clutching the box of crayons against his heart.

“What are you doing?” I asked, eyeing the plastic bottle.

“It’s cold!” he exclaimed.

I guess it’s cold enough to be used like that.

“What are you doing with the crayon box?”

He's still pressing it against his chest.

Boombox gave an exaggerated frown,“Am I not allowed to get attached to it?!”

“It's a crayon box!”

“Okay, well, I've always wanted to draw with more colors!!”

“You are NOT an artist, you are the last demon from being an artist…”

“NUH UH!” Boombox rejected, wagging a finger, “I am, in fact, a FANTASTIC artist.”

“Like that one time you submitted your ‘abstract painting’ to the art phestival?”

“The judges liked that one though!”

“But at the cost of my ROOM?! I had to get an entire deep cleaning crew to stop by because the amount of paint splattered around was just… not good.”

“That's just my method!”

“Your method’s the stuff of nightmares. It looked like you threw a paint grenade through my window.”

And the actual painting looked like Boombox vomited all over the canvas.

Boombox retorted with offense, “Hey! Crayons aren’t as messy as paint anyway so this is not your problem!!”

“You look ridiculous.”

“Can’t you go one second without finding something to insult me for?!” he groaned.

“No.”

“Okay, okay, how about this:” Boombox began, “Bring up one memory and just talk about it POSITIVELY.”

“We still have that presentation project due for English 11 on Wednesday. You haven’t started your set of slides.”

“T-That’s not-!” he sputtered

“It is positive. I’m reminding you to do something, right?”

“But you’re insulting me for not starting said project!” he defended.

“A fact isn’t an insult.”

“AY! Why are you talking like that? You sound like a text-to-speech!”

…..

Boombox shook his head, “O-Okay, fine! How about I give you a prompt?”

“You’re wasting your time.”

“Remember that one time we went to that animal shelter to do some of our service hours?” he asked.

“You mean the mandatory ones for our diplomas next year?”

“Yep! Anyways, we had fun playing with the cats, riiight?” He really drew out that last part.

“Yes. And you spent the entire time running around with them, managed to get some adoptions in for the shelter. You did… decent.”

He clapped, “Oh, and they were all over you since you’re really warm ‘n stuff.”

“You also didn’t want to leave, I had to drag you out by your shoe laces.”

“NO! Don’t bring that up!” he frowned, “You were doing so well!”

“Not an insult, a fact.”

“Positively vibes only!!” he asserted.

“Look, enough of me. Are you gonna be okay?”

The bump on his head was getting redder.

“Huh? ...As always!” he laughed.

“Gods, what’s with you and getting hurt? It’s been like this since middle school,” I griped, “And then it’s me who has to clean up your mess.”

He gave another dry laugh, “You don’t have to, y’know?” 

“It’s an obligation, stupid. Of course I’m going to.”

“It’s an obligation to…” he began quietly before the chipperness returned,  “Nevermind, ‘ppreciate it though!”

“What? What is it?”

“Nothing, nothing!”

Hm.

Then he cracked the plastic bottle open, sipping from it, “...I love apple juice!”

“Yes. I know, that’s why I bought it instead.”

“And I thought you’d never buy me anything!”

.....

“...Hey, Clock?” Boombox asked, staring at me as he gulped down his juice.

“What is it?”

“I know I’m talking about old stuff a lot but do you also remember that one time in gym where we played dodgeball with everyone?”

“Which one? We've probably had to play dodgeball a few hundred times.”

“That dodgeball tournament, the one with all of the gym classes in our grade!”

“Yes… What about it?”

“Okay, then do you remember that part where a bunch of the enemy team ganged up on me? And then they all tossed at once and then you stepped in front of me at the last second and…”

“Caught all of them at once, yeah, that play was insane. The looks on their faces were hilarious before I sniped two of them.”

“Why’d you do that?”

“Huh? Do what?”

“Stand up for me.”

“What’s the point in asking? That was a while ago.”

“You never told me why back then… You seemed pretty angry after the same thing happened to me a match before.”

“Yeah, of course I’m gonna get pissed off if three of those bastards hit you over the face with rubber balls, don’t you think?”

“Why get mad over it?”

His voice sounded so flat. Uncharacteristically flat. It felt like a crash compared to earlier.

“I-I don’t know, I just did? Isn’t that how emotions work?”

Isn’t it?

And then it lit back up like a struck match, “Well- Anyways, that was still really fun! You killed it back there!”

“...Because I know how to catch even if I can’t run?”

“It really wasn’t a fair match-up for them! Y’know, facing a robot?”

“Hck-”

That struck a chord.

“..........”

Boombox was shaking my arm, “Clock?”

“......”

Not a robot.

I am a person.

I think.

“Clooock??” Boombox pouted.

I smiled, “We should probably go back to the clubroom, we’ve been out for a while! Don’t you think so?”

Boombox took the final sip from his juice, “You’re right! I lost track of time, sorry..!”

I stood up, bolting out of the room.

------------

I returned to the clubroom, the others were collected in the middle of the room.

“There you are!” Banhammer said, relieved, “Thought ya ditched us!”

Subspace glanced behind me, “Hey!! Where’s Boombox?! Did you kill him?!”

Boombox popped in five seconds later, “Clock! I told you to wait for me! You… left the stuff in the room so I had to carry everything…”

Boombox had all of the supplies haphazardly clutched in his arms, he dumped them onto the teacher’s desk before returning with a gleeful bounce in his step. 

Like nothing had even happened.

“We’re about to go share poems anyway, so let's get that segment done first!” Banhammer announced, snapping his fingers.

I took my poem from my bag. 

Boombox skipped to me and tapped me on the shoulder. I glanced at him, he had his poem in his hand. I noticed the text being written in a dark green crayon instead of pencil this time.

He lifted it towards me without a word, he still had that signature boxy grin painted on his face with his unblinking visor’s eyes. I took the paper and handed him mine.

It had no title to it.

There’s lots of ways to get your mind off things!

You could listen to music!

When you listen to music, you get consumed by the rhythm and beat.

You can connect with the lyrics.

The lyrics or themes of a song can comfort you.

You could go for a walk!

Exercise can make you feel happier.

Or if you walk in a park, you can look at the scenery.

Plants are beautiful, especially up close!

You could do arts and crafts!

For example, you could do origami and look for new crafts online.

Paper is also readily available.

People appreciate origami gifts and making people happy can make you happy too!

You could make new friends!

There’s lot of people to talk and listen to.

People have cool stories to tell or similar interests to talk about.

Especially in clubs!

These should work.

I’m quite put off by that last line.

“Should” is such an… ominous way to end this off. And especially with the word being drawn with thicker lines. It’s also seemingly less cohesive compared to the last one where it was just sensory details with a wholesome ending. This one just feels closer to… rambling.

I looked up at him, he was still reading my work with a softer smile this time, “You had a really interesting choice of diction here… especially on this last part,” I said.

“What do you mean?” he asked, his face still mostly covered by my looseleaf.

“‘These should work’ suggests you either inherently think that your methods are supposed to be  functional but they aren’t for some reason,” I explained, “You might want to edit that before you show this to the others.”

“Huh? Lemme see that,” Boombox requested, extending his hand for his poem.

I handed him it.

He glossed over it before his eyes went wide, “OH! Wrong one, I just realized. This is supposed to be scrapped, sorry about that!”

“Yeah, that’s pretty obvious. The tone is way off.”

“Sorry, sorry! I must’ve forgotten to throw it out at lunch!” he laughed, crumpling up the paper.

“You wanna get the right one or..?”

“I don’t wanna keep the others held up if you read my actual one since it’s also pretty long ‘n stuff sooo…”

“Want to talk about mine then?”

“Yeah!” he obliged, “I really, really, really like the details you put into this one, firstly!”

Last night, I did put Banhammer’s advice into consideration. I tried to write this one to be more oriented towards Boombox since I do know him pretty well enough to know what he’d like. I did enjoy how this poem came out compared to the last one, so if anything, that’s a positive.

“You did a great job with creating a vivid image, and uhh lots of words, lots of words… it feels a lot like my poem from yesterday, actually with how you were talking about doing activities in nature. Except, you were talking about kayaking and hiking!”

I just wrote a poem-story about two characters going boating and mountain climbing together. I thought Boombox would like something like that, he’s been wanting to do those things since we were kids but we never got around to scheduling anything. I wish we did.

“Hey, Clock,” Boombox said.

“What?”

“If you wanted to go outside, you should’ve just asked me!” he mused.

“You never follow through with ambitious plans either way… You’re all just talk!”

He crossed his arms, “‘Cause you don’t make any, silly!”

“I didn’t feel like it in the first place so I’m not going to! You’ll have to take an initiative for once,” I teased, “But considering you’re equally as lazy, hell will have frozen over by then!”

“Oh yeah?! I think I’m lazier than you, so I AM superior!” he proclaimed.

“Nobody said this was a laziness competition.”

“Well, if it were then, nah, I’d win.”

“...You’re not funny.”

“YOU KNOW WHO IS FUNNY?!” a raspy voice asked right behind me.

Fucking. Subspace.

“We’re still talking,” I said.

“And it’s time to talk to mEEE!!!” he screeched.

He’s getting worse everyday. My presence is probably enabling him, isn’t it?

“LET’S GO!!” he announced, grabbing me by the hand and yanking me away from Boombox.

Boombox timidly waved.

Subspace placed me against a corner of the room.

“Do you mind? ”

He tilted his head, “Mind?! What is there to mind?!”

“You-”

“ACTUALLY, I do have something on my mind this time!!” Subspace interjected.

“...What is it now?”

“How’s your ‘Dad’ doing?!” Subspace asked.

My. My. 

….

“No, not that one!!” 

“Are you talking about Watch? Why do you want to know?”

“Well, I’m not in the position to ask- Y’know!!” Subspace complained, “It’s so annoying!!”

“What?” 

I have no idea who he’s referring to.

“I don’t fucking know how he is!” I responded before mumbling, “...Hopefully awful.”

“Aww, y’know Clock…” Subspace began, “I thought you would’ve shown up to the commemoration last night!!”

“Watch didn’t tell me about it.”

“How could he have not?!” Subspace questioned, “Actually, forget it, you would’ve gone if you knew, of course!!”

“Yeah.”

“About him… Even if I was so young and all, he was a great man!!”

Quite… the contrary.

“You’d know, right?!” Subspace yelped.

“Yes, he was. I miss him too.”

“ As expected! ” Subspace snickered, “But don’t lump me into that! ”

I raised an eyebrow, “So you don’t miss him? After you just…”

“I didn’t hate him, quite the opposite, but I would NEVER!”

“...Okay, can we just get to the poem sharing part now?” I requested apprehensively.

“I was just about to say, actually!!” Subspace held his paper up, “It’s even more perfect than the last one that it’ll blow your socks off!!”

I snatched it from his hand. I left mine on a table, Subspace didn’t reach for it. But then he did after ten seconds of blank stares.

No title, and it’s written in pencil.

Mine likes to go to school.

Mine is friends with everybody at school.

They talk to him a lot and Mine is happy.

He misses school when he goes home.

He wants to talk to people!

One day, Mine goes to school again.

There’s a new kid at school!! How stupid!

He doesn’t like to compete!

Mine continues as usual, ignoring the new kid.

He does not like the new kid because he is stealing Mine’s friends!!

Mine goes home super angry because ignoring the new kid made all of Mine’s friends leave.

So Mine tries something new.

He pretends to be friends with the new kid.

And then Mine  彼̵̫̋͝の̵̺̠̚̚目̸̦̎͑を̶̟̓̀引̶̯͋き̷͙͚͒̚裂̶̼͚̃い̸̔͜ͅ た̶̝͌̊

But then they both got super hurt because the new kid used Mine’s super dangerous scary gear against him!!

Mine almost died! It was really funny!!

Mine got in lots of trouble!

The mean principal called his parents but his parents didn’t pick up.

Haha!! They’re ignoring him too!

Now, everyone won’t ignore Mine because Mine looks…

Anyway, the new kid never messed with Mine again.

And Mine got to keep his friends!!

THE END!!

“I-I- What?” I thought aloud.

Did… Did Subspace actually take Medkit’s advice? To write something actually serious?

No way. That’s just a ridiculous assumption to make.

But this is definitely concerningly serious, but I guess it fits his… unique ideas for poems. One of the phrases was scribbled over though.

I feel so all over the place.

“Whatcha thinking?!” Subspace demanded eagerly, staring directly at me with almost bloodshot eyes.

I sighed, “Are you mentally sound?”

“What kind of question is that?!” Subspace laughed, “The answer’s obvious!!”

“So, no. Noted.”

“How dare you-?!”

“Look, can you just tell me what you want to say about mine already?!” I snapped.

“But I didn’t get to read it!!”

“YOU HAD…” I panted, “...ALL OF THIS TIME TO DO SO!”

“Now I don’t want to!!” Subspace cackled.

…..

Wonderful.

“Give it.”

I dropped Subspace’s poem on the floor as I extended my hand to my paper in his tense hand.

“But-”

“GIVE IT.”

“OW!”

“Clock?! What are you-?!” Boombox cried out.

I was yanking him by his stupid neon pink horns, “Give it or I’ll fucking snap these off like twigs.”

Subspace reluctantly dropped my sheet onto the floor. I shoved him backwards, collecting it.

I found myself huddled in the closet now.

It’s so much…

Information. To process.

Knock knock

My head floated upwards to the door.

“What do you need, Medkit?”

“I was going to ask that to you,” Medkit stated, “Are you okay?”

“No, I need Subspace sent to the fiery pits of hell if you could do that.”

Medkit sat down with me, “That’s Banhammer’s job, unfortunately.”

“Ah, t-that escalated too quickly…” I wheezed exhaustedly.

“Overwhelmed?”

“Yes. That’s the best way to describe this… feeling.”

He nodded, “I understand. Quite commonplace.”

“Why are you even here?” I asked, “I just needed a breather and then I’d be okay.”

“You were there for me yesterday so I thought to repay you.”

…

“You scared the ever-loving daylights out of Subspace so I think that might be equally as satisfying to you, perhaps,” Medkit said.

“...How do you know that? Shit like that isn’t very evident.”

“I know him. He had a very traumatized look after you left,” Medkit explained, “Just watch next time you interact with him and you’ll see what I mean.”

I laughed, “Ha! I hope he got trauma from that, at least he’ll stop fucking around.”

My gears are still racing.

“ Huff… Huff… ”

“I wouldn’t exert yourself,” Medkit mumbled, pressing his hand against my shoulder.

“I mean, while we’re here, I wouldn’t mind sharing poems,” I said, “At least, it might loosen the mood a bit.”

Medkit held his up, “And you won’t get burnt out, will you?”

“Definitely not.”

We traded papers.

There is no difference between you and I.

It is within the nature of a self, to prosper and thrive.

What is different between these “selves” is how such survivability is derived.

There is contrariety in how people survive.

We, once indistinguishable from the fish in the sea, had roamed and swam.
We fought and vied for nutrients, and fled and scrammed.

As we learned to walk the land, it remained the same.

We dug and hid, and killed and maimed.

Now, we think of such things as abhorrent.

The idea of abusing another,

of stealing from others,

of making one suffer.

of killing a mother, a brother, a father

Sometimes, I wonder if we’ve matured any more from animals.

Entirely denying that we have not is irrational.

We still vie for life, whether one is in dysphoria or is content.

Of course, not every person resorts to atrocity to prevail but it is still done to an extent.

Sometimes, people elude the confines of moral law for a chance of true life in society and to live a true life might as well have the equivalence of survival to many.

“Hey, this is a bit ironic considering what just happened,” I commented, smiling.

“Ironic? In what way?”

“I really ought to crush Subspace’s skull, he’s killing me,” I remarked, “And I certainly wanna be alive tomorrow.”

“I’d help you dispose of the corpse if we wouldn’t get caught in an instant by Banhammer.”

“But I’m getting the right idea regarding the… topic, right?” I asked.

“Well, we all do what we need to survive, don’t we?” Medkit nodded, “It’s in the nature of a self to work for survival. Even presumably unconscious things like bacteria and amoeba. That is how all selves function on a fundamental level, dead things don’t do any of that.”

That…

That felt warm to know.

“Similarly, there is also this property seen all over the Inphinity, it’s called emergence,” Medkit explained, “Emergence describes the behavior of dead things coming together to form something… alive or, a better way to put it, stupid things become smart together.”

“Go on…”

“Here’s an example: Take an ant hill. An individual ant, by itself, might as well be considered useless. But then when we speak of an entire ant colony, they all collaborate in such intricate ways to maintain the collective. It’s marvelous, in my opinion,” Medkit continued, “Emergence even applies to atoms, a singular proton means nothing by itself but then when it combines with electrons, neutrons, and other protons, they form elements.”

“...”

“So really, anything dead can come together to form a self. That’s how we demons exist at all. We’re all just a bunch of stupid cells that came together to do something smart,” Medkit finished, “Or… Well- in your case, materials and metals that were assembled to form a self equally as smart.”

I feel a bit more real now.

“That’s…”

“D-Did… Did I ramble too much?” Medkit stuttered, flushed, “I’m sorry if I did…”

“No. I appreciate it,” I smiled, “I appreciate it… a lot.”

“O-Oh… You’re welcome then!” Medkit laughed, “Anyway, about your poem… I do have some criticisms, if you want to hear it, that is.”

“Of course I want to hear it.”

“...It’s certainly more detailed compared to the first one. But I personally think it’s too detailed, I guess certain aspects are quite overdetailed,” Medkit elaborate, “The amount of description outweighs the actual plot too heavily if you were going for a plot oriented poem again.”

“I’ll keep that in mind then.”

“It is okay to avoid simplicity but be aware of the quantity of adjectives you use next time.”

“Okay…”

“Other than that, it’s perfectly fine-”

Medkit nearly jumped into the stratosphere at the sound of more heavy knocks on the wall.

“You two!” Banhammer playfully scolded.

“Don’t surprise me like that!” Medkit huffed, “What is it?”

“The club needs you both on the floor, it’s about the Phestival on Monday,” Banhammer said.

I rolled my eye, “Right…” 

Medkit helped me off the floor and we reentered the clubroom. Boombox was standing in the front while Subspace was crouched on a chair quietly.

Medkit spoke first, “What of the Phestival coming up, did you have plans?”

“We’re gonna invite attendees to stop by the clubroom!” Boombox excitedly said.

“But we would only have three days to prepare, including the weekends,” Medkit noted.

“Three days is more than enough, we’re keepin’ it simple,” Banhammer clarified.

“We still haven’t figured out what to do for the attendees though…” Boombox sighed.

“If you were only thinking of an interest meeting then a presentation about the club is more than enough,” Medkit suggested.

“No!! That’s just a boring way to do it, we have to get them excited and eager to join!” Boombox rejected.

Medkit grimaced, “What else is there to do in a literature club? We aren’t like the Dance Club, we really cannot just perform something interesting like them.”

“BINGO!” Banhammer concluded.

“...I’m not dancing for the Phestival, I would rather shoot myself in the head,” Medkit facepalmed.

“No, not like that! We could just write and perform poems instead,” Banhammer corrected.

“Yeah!! Like it’ll advertise how we write poems together and it’s an extra event to perfectly spice up the meeting!” Boombox agreed giddily.

I guess that could work.

“Hell no!” Medkit instantly refused, horrified.

“Bleh… Sounds boring,” Subspace complained unenthusiastically.

Boombox teared up, “W-We already share poems with each other as is! Think about it! It’ll be so much fun!”

“You know this is vastly different, correct?” Medkit said, clutching his arms apprehensively, “We have to read them in front of a… potentially large number of people that probably none of us know. And you already perform for people for Flipside, it’s not the same.”

“And you think I’m gonna read a stupid poem in front of all of those people?!” Subspace butted in, “It’ll just mess with my dangerous reputation!! 

“...Dangerous reputation?” I questioned.

Subspace voice hitched, “Y-Yeah!! Can’t have everyone knowing I’m in this club, y’know?! It’ll get sooo overcrowded!!”

“More like you’re concerned people will think you’re soft for being a literature club with your precious manga collection,” Medkit mused.

“I’M NOT SOFT!!”

“At least do it for the sake of the club guys! Please?!” Boombox pleaded, “We all want this club to improve and if we want more activities then we need more minds with better ideas!!”

Medkit wasn’t convinced, “I’m willing to do anything that doesn’t include reading out poetry.”

“Then come to school wearing a carrot costume on Monday! That’ll surely get some people through the door!!” Banhammer snickered.

“N-NO!”

Banhammer presented an utterly ridiculous ultimatum, “Either you’re doing that or you’ll do some poem reading during the Phestival!”

“And what? What leverage do you have to force me to choose?”

“Ohh, Subspace?” Banhammer called, “You want Medkit’s home address?”

“I WOULD LOVE TO KNOW THAT!!” Subspace grinned.

“Y-You still have my address?!” Medkit barked, “I told you to throw out that-!”

“Make a choice! And do it quickly!!” Banhammer declared.

“Okay, fine, I’ll present something. Just… not the first option ,” Medkit conceded.

“Pathetic!! I know I’ll never do something so frankly ridiculous!!” Subspace cackled.

Boombox had yet another bright idea, “Would you contribute if you made a skit instead?!”

“Hmmm, I’m listening…”

“Like instead of just reading out the poem, you could make a video of you reenacting your poem of choice since you enjoy writing satire poems!”

Why the hell does Subspace get the privilege of doing something like that?!

“PERFECT!!” Subspace clapped, “And I have the perfect idea!! I’ll write out the poem and show you guys the first thing tomorrow, in fact!!”

I nudged Medkit, “Something bad’s happening tomorrow,” I whispered.

“Obviously,” he whispered back.

------------

The club day ended with no other incident. 

Banhammer proclaimed for us to write the poems we wanted to present tonight so we could critique and edit them the next day so we could rehearse them for the Phestival. No idea what Subspace is scheming but certainly an atrocity in the making.

Boombox and I are walking home. He’s weirdly quiet.

Maybe he’s just tired…. I know I am too.

The eyes on his visor were glowing dimmer.

“Hey, Boombox?” I said, waving my hand in his face as we walked.

They brightened back up once he was snapped back to reality, “Sorry! Was zoning out!” Boombox laughed awkwardly.

“Thinking about something?”

“Weeellll…”

“Spit it out, I don’t have all day.”

“Question: What would you do if somebody else asked you to walk home with them? Like Medkit… for example?”

I gave him a weird stare before I answered, “No shit, I’m gonna reject and still walk home with you.”

Boombox’s mouth seemed to hang slightly open, “Oh!”

“Why even ask? We always walk home together either way and it’d be inconvenient to walk home with Medkit when for all I know, he could live on the other side of Crossroads.”

“Inconvenient…?”

“Yeah?”

“.........”

The neon dimmed again.

“I enjoy walking home together again too, I like spending the extra time together, you know?” I continued, “Just in case somehow you get scooped up and thrown into a white van.”

His eyes closed, “Man! You look out for me too much!!” Boombox giggled.

Chapter Text

Even after the events of yesterday, I still felt compelled to come in. Or well, compelled to because Banhammer stopped by to walk me to the clubroom and I’m still too exhausted to put up a fight. I’ve already been in the club long enough for me to be too engrossed as a member to leave anyway.

Banhammer and I were walking through the empty halls to the club meeting.

“...Banhammer, you didn’t show me your poem from yesterday, I think,” I piped up after a minute of walking.

“Heh, I kinda… forgot to do mine anyway,” Banhammer answered.

“Forgot? Wasn’t this whole thing your idea?”

“I had shit to do yesterday!” Banhammer defended, “Doesn’t matter anyway, I wasn’t gonna use any of my current poems for the Phestival.”

“Including today’s?” I asked.

“...Yeah,” he responded, chuckling awkwardly afterwards.

Gods, and he said we should have our poems of choice done by today. Yet again, he’s a hypocrite, still a hypocritical jerk. He’s still been acting the same outside of the club, teasing me, engaging in unwanted conversations. Just… his demeanor changes at the club but it doesn’t remedy how he acts outside.

We arrived at the club. 

At a glance from the doorway, I couldn’t see Boombox which was odd since he always wandered or sat at the front of the room. Medkit and Subspace were there, sitting as far away from each other as possible as usual. Medkit was reading while Subspace seemed to be scribbling on a piece of scrap paper. 

Ducking under the doorway to enter, Banhammer could clearly see what Subspace was doing on the paper after he lifted his blindfold up slightly.

“What’re you drawing for?” Banhammer questioned suspiciously, “Subspace.”

“It’s just planning!!” Subspace answered, still sketching, “Mind your own business, Momma’s boy!! Stop looking, you’ll spoil the surprise!!”

I glanced over from behind Banhammer, the light made the drawing somewhat visible. It was just a crappy pencil drawing of Subspace on a… throne in the clubroom and surrounded by people. Banhammer was at the forefront of the crowd, bowing on his knees. The words “The Phestival” were scribbled across the top.

I sighed, “What are you planning?” 

Subspace shuttered, his face blanching upon noticing me. He immediately knew that I noticed his work as he tucked away the paper, “N-NOTHING!! It’s NOTHING!!”

Banhammer had gotten a full peek at the drawing, “You’re drawing me doing… what towards you?”

Subspace was acting like he got caught writing a love letter for his crush…

“If you’re planning to sabotage the event and make the Phestival about yourself, I’ll gladly throw you out the window onto the street,” Banhammer threatened, clutching his hands into fists in emphasis.

“Why would I do something so obscene!? I want this to go as well as you considering I’ll be bringing shame upon my prestige for you all!!” Subspace blurted, “H-Have some gratitude!!”

“Have some gratitude that I let you stay at all,” Banhammer muttered, “It’s not like you’re performin’ like the rest of us anyway!”

“W-Well, my name’s still gonna be plastered everywhere since I’m a member!!” Subspace retorted, before mumbling, “And everyone’s gonna be all over me regardless when I show up… Not like I can control that!!”

Subspace was avoiding eye-contact with me at all costs. So… that’s what Medkit meant yesterday.

“Sure they will, Subspace, sure…” Banhammer murmured.

Medkit dropped his book onto his desk, “Are we still going through with presenting poems for the Phestival?”

“Obviously,” Banhammer said.

Medkit grunted before glancing out the window, “If we are having people over at the club, we would have to discuss how everything else will be set up. Advertising, refreshments, a timeline for the actual meeting, etcetera.”

“But this room is already so bland and boring, it needs sprucing up too!! And you would know monotony really well, wouldn’t you, Meddy?!” Subspace teased, still sweating profusely.

“Stop being combative,” Banhammer scolded wearily, “...We can handle the schedule first, it’s just gonna be the information segment, then the poem presentations afterwards, and…”

I noticed the silhouette of another person in the back of the room, a glimpse of familiar neon green horns huddled at a desk. I fully glanced over.

So Boombox was here after all. But, just keeping his distance strangely. He wasn’t acknowledging any of us.

He’s still as much of a mess as this morning, of course. And he said he’d clean himself up in the bathroom before class. But his face was so… neutral… or blank. Uncharacteristically blank, his typical boxy smile was absent. I stomped up to him, jostling him by the horns. 

He pulled back against my grip, tearing one of the earbuds that were apparently in his ears.

“Boombox, we’re talking about Phestival plans,” I told him, “You should probably pay attention .”

That came out a bit more aggressive than I intended it to be.

“Oh, sorry!” Boombox apologized with a light smile, “Banhammer already knows what he’s doing, you can talk to the others. It’s fine. If there’s anything new, he’ll definitely tell me.”

No, something is excessively off-key.

“Hey, are you okay? ” I questioned.

My tone didn’t sound concerned enough at all. 

“I’m fine?” Boombox tilted his head, baffled, “I just wanted to listen to music today, Flipside’s been cooking a lot lately!”

But as far as I knew, Boombox hasn’t been attending production or any Flipside concerts recently.

Dammit, just focus on enunciating correctly…

I grimaced, “You’re acting really weird. Are you sure?”

NO! Fuck.

“I told you yesterday!” he frowned in an exaggerated manner, “Don’t worry about me so much!”

“You’re not lying to me, are you?”

“I don’t wanna distract you from talking with the others, especially about the Phestival! It’ll just be inconvenient to you, y’know?”

Inconvenient? I feel like I’ve heard that line said sometime before…  Well, I can’t remember.

“O… ‘kay, then?” I responded reluctantly.

Boombox put his earbuds back in his ears, staring at the wall.

I stumbled back to the front of the room.

Banhammer must know something.

I knocked on his back, “Banhammer.”

The others had stopped talking by now.

“Yeah?” he said, turning around, “Whatcha need? Something wrong?”

“Have you talked to Boombox recently?”

“About what?”

“...I don’t know, the Phestival? Just-! Anything in general?” 

Banhammer was confused, “No? Why ya askin’?”

“I’m not sure if it’s just me being overly analytical but Boombox has been quite moody, since… yesterday.”

“I certainly didn’t notice anything!” Banhammer chuckled.

The two of us glanced back to Boombox. He is leaning on one his hands, tapping his fingers against the table. He’s still staring at the wall.

“Maybe he’s just got stuff on his mind?” Banhammer concluded.

“Swords, forget it,” I dismissed, “Just never seen him so reclusive before but I’m not sure what the fuck I’m supposed to be doing.”

I guess, Boombox has acted the same whenever I’ve asked him about why he lives alone a handful of times. He becomes dismissive and reclusive this same way.

Ha, reclusive…

That reminds me of someone else that Boombox knows. She’s right here.

“I thought you would’ve known something since I’m assuming you’re both planning out the Phestival outside of school.”

“I’m sure you’ll have some way to know what’s goin’ on, you certainly know him better than I do!” Banhammer said.

Which is why I’m getting frustrated that I don’t actually know what to do.

“Don’t worry though!” Banhammer smirked, “I’ll certainly get guidance involved if Boombox gets any worse, I still care for my members. I definitely don’t like seein’ them in sour moods!”

“...Hope that’s true,” I mumbled.

“I’m thinkin’ this might be a stretch but maybe he’s wonderin’ about you?”

“Excuse me?”

“Well, he’s been a lot happier ever since you joined the club so this is a pretty drastic crash in comparison,” Banhammer elaborated.

“But he’s always happy in my presence. It has nothing to do with just the club itself.”

Banhammer’s smugness waned, “If he doesn't cheer up when you stop by, shouldn't it be a concern to you?"

“Huh?”

….

“It’s… still probably nothing,” I waved my hand in dismissal, “He’s always been the same anyway, it’s probably just a one-off occurrence.”

Banhammer bursted out laughing, “HA! But I’m just theorizin’ anyway! Like I said, it’s just a little stretch, Cuckoo Clock!”

“Don’t call me that,” I hissed.

“Maybe you’ve only seen the side of Boombox he wants you to see!” Banhammer remarked, “Have you ever considered that?”

I glared at him, “Are you saying Boombox is acting deceitful?”

“No, not in a malicious way, that is,” Banhammer clarified. He was grinning again, like he was stifling laughter. I don’t understand what the hell could even be funny about this.

I turned away from him.

“I’ll talk to Boombox if it makes ya feel any better,” Banhammer said. He approached Boombox at the back of the room, crouching down to his level as his desk.

I left my bag against the wall, sitting next to it on the floor.

Only saw the side of Boombox he wants me to see.

What… is that supposed to mean then? 

That can’t be right. He’s almost as honest to me as I am to him. That only thing he’s been secretive about is… well, his home situation. Of course, that shit isn’t my business. But what if Boombox really is hiding something? Could he have been lying to me? What could he possibly be hiding from me?

Swords, why is Banhammer acting so lax about this? What the fuck could he possibly know about Boombox and I? He’s just some self-conceited demigod, he knows absolutely nothing.

But what if it’s all about something so utterly detrimental that Boombox’s practically dead already?

What then if Banhammer frankly doesn’t take any of it seriously?

Or is there something I’m just not catching because… because…

…

I can understand demons as well as any other, can’t I?

Did I just not notice how… flawed my understanding is? Not notice that there’s a giant chasm in my knowledge of how demons fundamentally function? Not notice that I’ve been functioning fundamentally incorrectly?

Am I just that untrustworthy to Boombox? So untrustworthy because of this entire personality that I meticulously constructed? Is that way nobody can even stand me unless Boombox steps in and does all of the asserting for me like my programming is flawed to the point where I cannot advocate for myself?

Stop…

Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. 

…..

It’s really nothing! 

I’m okay, I’m doing this correctly. I don’t need to think about any of this. There’s nothing to actually fix.

They always get swatted away like flies.

“Let’s get to sharing poems guys, we don’t got a lot of time to waste!” Banhammer’s arrogant voice cut into my thoughts.

Yeah, you certainly have a lot of room to talk when you’re wasting our precious time with such a waste-of-energy task, Banhammer.

I slipped my poem out of my bag. I looked up, my eye immediately lingering on Medkit near the closet.

Swords, he really is the only person here I can comfortably interact with, huh? 

I dragged myself off the floor towards the closet. The two of us kind of just naturally wandered into the secluded room. We sat on the floor like yesterday.

“You doing okay after yesterday?” Medkit asked, leaning forward to examine my limp figure.

“Better than ever.”

“There was no hint of it and yet I could’ve felt the sarcasm from across the room…”

“It’s not about Subspace anyway,” I clarified, “Boombox isn’t doing that well.”

“Are you sad about it?”

Sadness.

“I don’t really… Maybe I’m disappointed or annoyed or bothered by it but not sad.”

“You have the full range but sadness was excluded?”

“I really don’t know, maybe I just haven’t been in a situation that constituted it,” I sighed, “I’ll get over it either way, at least, I have that going for me.”

After a silent moment, I handed him my poem and I took his.

“You think we could get away with just hiding here for the rest of the day?” I mused as I unfolded the paper.

Medkit leaned back, “Oh, I wish.”

The title read, “Nightmare”

I am lost in the fray.

Running across darkened pavement.

A chilling wind as I’m dousing myself in sweat.

It’s only me and her left.

I’ve lost sight of the third.

He deserved what he received.

Now, she and I, three minutes to flee.

Nothing would get in between us.

I would’ve preferred to meet a grim fate over losing her.

At last, she and I arrived to a black car.

Unlocking the vehicle, I threw her into the backseats.

The pressure was exhilaratingly suffocating.

I drove.

But I passed by the group of red and blue flashing lights

One must have spotted me.

Because then the sounds of sirens pursued us like deer.

The car sped up.

The blares rang through my ears.

And then we slowed down.

The tank was empty.

Now, they’re just behind us. 

Guns drawn.

I kicked the doors open, throwing her out of the backseat. 

I took her away, sprinting for a lake.

I’d rather drown together.

I wouldn’t have it any other way.

“...You’re submitting this for the…” I wondered aloud.

“No, I’m not,” Medkit stated, “I was going to submit the first poem I wrote when Banhammer proposed this entire spiel. It would probably have a larger appeal than this one.”

“I don’t understand what the premise is then.”

“The work is not exactly great unfortunately,” Medkit sighed, “I wrote it this morning after a nightmare I had last night. The plot… just became quite unusual, I’ve never had a nightmare or memory that resembles something like it. I had to write it down somewhere and I hadn’t written a poem the night before anyway.”

“Boombox once told me dreams are supposed to be… like windows in ‘your subconscious’ or something stupid like that.”

“Personally, I believe they mean absolutely nothing besides causing temporary disturbance. Even if it did, I couldn’t tell you who ‘she’ is, all I remember is that the other person was female,” Medkit explained, “I just had another particularly vivid nightmare.”

“Another?”

“Some demons have frequent nightmares, unfortunately.”

“Surprisingly, I do have ‘dreams’ when I power off but they’re just random carbon-copy memories that play in my subconscious until I switch back on. I don’t know if those would constitute as dreams.”

“...But anyway, about your poem,” Medkit began, examining the lines again, “Certainly better compared to yesterday, I enjoy your use of wordplay in this one. Ideal amount of adjectives and description used, it is still in a story format which is what style I’m assuming you want to stick to. It’s even consolidated properly so it’s certainly not overly long. I don’t have anything to criticize about it in particular.”

“Huh, that’s fantastic then,” I smiled.

Medkit smiled back, “And it would definitely impress anyone inexperienced with literature. Great work.”

We swapped papers again, giggling between each other.

“I really wouldn’t mind if you kidnapped me out of here, Medkit…”

“I am certainly not doing something like that, you’d have to pay me a hefty amount and extra if we got caught .”

“Swords, I’ll pay you any amount, anything to rid myself of Subspace and Banhammer!”

Medkit covered his grin with his hand, “And Boombox?” 

“ Partially rid myself of him,” I rolled my eye, “Sometimes he’s as intolerable as the other two, sadly.”

The two of us jumped when the same heavy fist pounded on the wall next to us again, “Oh Lovedoves! We need you both out here, Subspace has somethin’ and he won’t show it off without everyone there.”

“W-What?!” Medkit yelped, scrambling to his feet. 

“Did I just say that?!” Banhammer cackled, “Must’ve been a slip of the tongue, just get out here before Subspace throws another one of his signature hissy fits.”

“I HEARD THAT!!”

“Nobody cares!” Banhammer shouted back.

“EVERYONE CARES!!”

I pulled myself up too as I followed the two of them back into the clubroom. 

Boombox isn’t here.

“TAKE A SEAT, TAKE A SEAT!!” Subspace announced, gesturing to a line of three chairs at the front. I plopped down on the only metal one apprehensively with Banhammer and Medkit on either side.

“Greetings, my subordinates!!” Subspace began, “Here, you’re about to witn-!!”

Banhammer paused him, “ Subspace , no.”

“Will you shut up, you brainletted dunce?!” Subspace cried out, stomping his feet like an enraged four-year-old, “ANYWAYS, my comrades , HERE, you’re about to witness the EPITOME OF INCREDIBLE LITERATURE AND FILM PROWESS!! (A masterpiece long awaited by viewers, may I add!!)”

I don’t like where this is going.

Subspace pulled out an older-style TV on a matte black rolling cart. Where he brought the TV from, I couldn’t tell but I’m certainly sure this classroom didn’t have one to begin with. He left it at the front before reaching into his backpack where he pulled out an unmarked VHS tape. He left on top of the TV as he took a sheet of paper from another pocket. He strutted up to his audience, handing me the folded up sheet.

I unfolded it hesitantly, the other two were staring over my shoulder.

“Shuriken Belongs In a Blender” was written in sharpie.

There was nothing else on the paper besides that.

“What the fuck is this title-?” I asked.

“SHUSH!” Subspace commanded as he slid the VHS into the player.

The TV flickered to life.

It displayed Subspace standing directly in front of the camera, covering up the contents of the background with his body. He was obviously outside. I saw the corner of a paper peeking from the bottom.

Subspace read aloud, his raspy voice being amplified by the awful mic quality, “I hate Shuriken!! He is a dumb fucking idiot!! He’s so annoying and ugly and he smells like shit!!”

“Therefore…”

Subspace stepped away from the camera, “Shuriken Belongs In a Blender!!”

He was in some sort of parking lot, it was almost entirely empty besides a couple of cars. But notably, there was a device standing slightly taller than Subspace. It had a clear exterior with an unpainted metal base with a singular red button. Inside of the container, there was a set of sharpened metal blades. There was a red and yellow painted restaurant in the far background.

And then there was… Shuriken. He was tied up by the legs and wrists with tape slapped over his mouth. He was wriggling out of frame.

“NO, NO, NO!!” Subspace scolded, noticing Shuriken’s squirms, “GET BACK HERE, RUNT!!” Subspace nudged him back in front of the device with his foot.

“ EHEM , ANYWAYS…!!” he sighed dramatically, rolling his eye.

“So I drove a white van to Shuriken’s house!!”

Subspace rotated the camera to point at said white van parked nearby. It had the words “FREE SMOOTHIE!!” scribbled in pink paint. He swiveled the camera back forwards.

“Then I snatched him while he was walking home from school!! Vine Staff cried like a bitch as I tied him up before I threw him into the trunk!! And then I deported him to the Denny’s parking lot!!”

“I grabbed him by his receding hairline ass head and tossed him onto the pavement!!”

“...And then…”

Subspace picked up Shuriken by the arms, tearing the tape quickly off his mouth, and managed to barely toss him over into the container.

That’s the blender, isn’t it?

“I placed him inside of the blender!! WHERE HE BELONGS!!”

“SUBSPACE!?!?” Shuriken cried out, “PLEASE MAN! I’M SORRY!! I DIDN’T KNOW IT WOULD’VE TURNED OUT LIKE THAT!! PLEASE!!!”

He attempted to squirm against his restraints but then it started cutting through his clothes. He visibly gritted his teeth.

“And then he started begging for the Virtuous Subspace’s mercy but his fate was sealed!! 

“SUBSPACE-!!” Shuriken weeped again.

“For he has UTTERLY fucked with the welfare wrong magnificent, stunning deity!!”

Subspace stomped on the large red button. Shuriken didn’t even emit a final plea or sound before he was ground down into a green sludge. 

“SO HE GOT BLENDED!!”

The blender ran for another ten seconds.

And then Subspace stomped on the button again.

“THE END!! BON APPETIT!!”

“SUBSPACE, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!” a familiar female voice shrieked.

“VINESTAFF?! HOW DID YOU FOLLOW ALL THE WAY FROM SHURIKEN’S HOUSE?!” Subspace shouted, annoyed.

“I-IS THAT?!” 

“Nuh uh! No witnesses!!” Subspace cackled.

Subspace whipped out his gear, splashing a cloud of poison to the side.

“ *cough, cough* N-NO!! S-S-SHURI!!” Vinestaff sobbed. Pink petals whizzed past the lens.

And then the wooden staff dropped onto the road along with the dull thump of a body.

“How annoying…” Subspace muttered, swiping his hands across his clothes like he was wiping off dust. He quickly sprinted to his van before returning with a glass and a can of… whipped cream. He leapt up onto the rim of the blender, reaching his cup down into the viscous green liquid. He managed to fill it to an adequate amount before he climbed back down. He dispensed a generous amount of whipped cream into the glass before he turned his back to the camera. His hand with the cup extended to his face.

And then he immediately spat out the concoction all over the road.

“AGH- UGH… *cough, cough* ” he gagged, a large frown on his rotten face, “Stupid… how am I supposed to…”

Subspace glanced up at the camera, noticing that it was still recording, “Whoopsie!!”

Just before Subspace on the video went to approach the camera, the VHS was ejected from the player. 

“Obviously, I’m not gonna play that part-!!”

“SUBSPACE?!?!” Banhammer shouted, shooting up from his chair, “WHY WOULD YOU-!!”

Only took him… two minutes to react.

“Whaaaat?!?!” Subspace groaned, “The punk got what was coming to him!!”

Well, here’s the problem. Since Subspace just so happens to be the son of one of the highest ranking members of… Blackrock’s Robotics Division and one of the chairwomen of the Blackrock government, he might as well be insusceptible to consequences. He can do whatever he wants and no force is going to get anywhere near him to arrest him, unfortunately.

Shit like this flies a lot more than one would think.

At least, he’s not entirely impervious to everything else that’s not physical.

I facepalmed, “Shuriken was a piece of garbage but was that entire thing necessary?!”

Medkit’s jaw was hanging open.

“PERFECTLY NECESSARY!!”

“D-Don’t even get me started on showing that at the Phestival!” I stammered, “We are not letting people’s first impression of the club be that we have a member who committed a convoluted murder on camera!”

Subspace rolled his eye, “Nobody’s gonna care!! Nobody liked him but everyone certainly likes-!!”

“NO! You can’t just-!” 

You know what? Nevermind. I can’t be bothered to berate him anymore. Bastard’s really impervious to consequences… nor will he ever learn his lesson.

Banhammer grabbed Subspace by the arm, immediately dragging the pink-horned demon into the hallway. Subspace began maniacally and pridefully laughing like a nutjob. And then a shouting match occurred outside.

Medkit was still shell-shocked, mouth continuing to droop open.

“Medkit?” I waved my hand in front of his face.

Medkit sighed, cupping his face in his hands, “He’s done worse before… He’s done worse before…”

“I remember this one time he microwaved a guy before he threw his corpse into the dishwasher. It was not pretty…” I muttered.

“HEY, CLOCK!! I got extra for you in my bag if you wanted som-!!” Subspace interjected, poking his head in.

“I’M NOT DONE WITH YOU!” Banhammer lambasted before jerking Subspace back outside.

I stood up and rummaged through Subspace’s stuff before finding a reused plastic bottle with the same green liquid. I chose to not snatch it.

“...No hesitation?”

“I’m grateful for fuel but this… just doesn’t feel exactly correct to do?”

“It very much is not .”

I sat back down.

“What are we gonna do about Subspace’s situation? Because there’s no way I’ll let a presentation like that slide without cracking his skull open like a fucking coconut,” I grumbled.

“...I’ll probably write him something to read. He will not sit down and write about anything normal , I’ll tell you that,” Medkit answered, “And I guess his ego getting damaged will be his punishment for pulling such a stunt. He hasn't taken this seriously since the beginning…”

“Huh, no wonder Shuriken didn’t show up to physics today… Poor, poor him.”

Frankly, I don’t actually care anyway. I’m just disappointed Subspace didn’t at least make a normal skit…

Medkit brushed his hair away from his face, he was visibly sweating.

I laughed, “Are you okay ?”

“I don’t know why but I honestly didn’t expect him to film a murder and show us it without batting an eye…” he huffed.

“I guess he gets more deranged the longer he’s alive.”

He was breathing heavily, “Gods…” 

“Don’t you dare drop dead too or I’ll blend up your corpse…”

Subspace bursted back into the room. He still had that same indignant look on his face. Meanwhile, Banhammer was slouched over, entirely defeated.

“What did ya guys think?!” Subspace inquired giddily.

“Don’t show it during the Phestival,” I stated.

“Why?! I worked so hard on it!!” Subspace weeped.

“No. I don’t care, you’re gonna be reading something like the rest of us!” I scolded.

He had his hands on his hips, “But- But- But-”

“SUBSPACE,” I hissed, shooting up from my chair, “I will actually fucking tear you limb from limb if you dare insinuate that you’ll embarrass the rest of us with your shit on that day, got it?!?! And this is not a GODDAMN bluff because frankly, I don’t care about you, nor your family, nor the consequences.”

Subspace abruptly froze, “....”

Swords, why is it that he relents when I say something?

“I guess that worked…” Banhammer grumbled.

Subspace shuffled away to the closet.

------------

We reconvened in ten minutes.

Unfortunately, Subspace seemed to almost return to normal.

Medkit nudged me as we gathered to discuss the Phestival, “...Is it just me or does the mood feel extremely off?”

“Probably because of earlier, no?” I mumbled.

Subspace spun on his heels, pointing to the corner of the room, “H-HEY, GUYS?! Where did Boombox go anyway?!”

That’s where Boombox was sitting earlier…

“I guess things really go south when Boombox isn’t around, huh?” Banhammer commented.

Weirdly, I felt Banhammer eyeing me through his blindfold.

“He must’ve gone brain dead and jumped out of the window after reading Meddy’s stupid poem!!” Subspace mocked.

Medkit narrowed his eye, “...He didn’t even get a chance to look at it.”

“Boombox actually went home early,” Banhammer said, “He told me he wasn’t feelin’ well.”

“How unfortunate! He didn’t even get to have his nice little couples’ walk with Clock!!”

I glared at him, “We’re just friends.”

Subspace visibly shuttered, “S-Sure!!”

“Calm down, he’s doing just fine either way. He just needs a little time to rest, that’s all!” Banhammer insisted.

“But on the only day we have left to talk about the Phestival?” Medkit asked skeptically.

Whatever, I’ll just go talk to him when I get home.

“What did he even tell you?” Medkit pressed.

“Anyways! Let’s get to figuring out who’s doing what. We gotta divide up the work!” Banhammer announced, “I was thinkin’ that I’ll just do pamphlets for the guests with our names and poems to read on them so they can read along. And some bits of info about the club too. Soundin’ good?”

“...I’ll have to write Subspace’s poem on Saturday, and then I’ll email it to you and him,” Medkit added.

“Sure,” I nodded.

Subspace groaned dramatically but he didn’t object any more.

Banhammer smirked, “What else should be there then?” 

“Food maybe?” I suggested.

“AHA! That’s a high-prestige job I’ll be willing to take off your hands then, C-Clock!!” Subspace declared.

He did want to look at me again.

“You can’t even cook, you’ll burn down a block of houses before you can fry an egg correctly,” Medkit remarked.

“I don’t COOK!!” Subspace argued, offended.

Medkit glanced away, “Yes, I know. You get everyone else to do it for you.”

“I wasn’t intending on cooking, just acquiring the best collection of snacks that any mortal could possibly procure into one place!!”

“Great, Subspace is going to buy snacks from the supermarket. What else then?” I continued.

Subspace deflated.

“Perhaps decorations? I know Boombox was intending on creating the advertisement posters but it would be best to add flavor to this room as well,” Medkit suggested.

“No, you got that idea from ME!! I talked about decorating earlier!!” Subspace chuckled.

“Can you not act childish?!” I scolded again.

“S-Sor- NO! I MEAN-!! I was not !!” Subspace stammered.

“Perfect, it's settled then!” Banhammer exclaimed, “I'll do pamphlets, Subspace buys snacks, and Medkit will create decor!”

I crossed my arms, “What about me and Boombox then?” 

Boombox was gonna help me with the pamphlets after he finalizes the posters,” Banhammer explained.

“I don't know what I'll be doing…”

An idea suddenly spawned in Subspace's mind, “Well, as the bearer of the highest-importance job here, I'll extend his olive branch to you and offer you a position as my associate!!”

“I-”

“So… you just want help?” Medkit simplified.

“NOT HELP , just company!!”

“So you want company so you don't feel lonely while you're at the supermarket?”

“NOT LIKE THAT!!”

“Whatever it is, if you need her to go with you for the sake of the Phestival, then I'm fine with it,” Medkit mumbled, “I guess I don't necessarily need the assistance anyway.”

“Hold on!” Banhammer paused, smirking, “I think it'd be preferable if Clock came to help me out instead.”

Medkit gave him a confused blink.

“And what makes you say that?!” Subspace snickered.

“Aw, well, it's up to Clock to choose if she wants to help someone and who it'll be.”

Boombox…

“I mean, if Banhammer wants help, then I'd rather just help him through Boombox,” I explained, “I'll help Boombox finish the posters at his place and then I'll just go with Boombox to help Banhammer. Boombox lives right next door so it would just be more convenient.”

“Boombox really doesn't need the help,” Banhammer insisted, “He's been fine with working on the poster alone and he might as well be done by now anyway.”

“What? Do you directly need my help then?” 

Banhammer still had that same grin painted on his face, “It wouldn't be great to go against a friend in need, y’know?”

“Now, hold off on that thought,” Medkit interrupted, “Why would you, out of the three of us, need the most help when you already have Boombox? You're not intending on forcing Clock to do whatever you please, are you? Just because you're the club president does not mean you have free reign over every decision.”

“Yeah!! It's really unfair when you already convinced Boombox to help you!!” Subspace agreed.

“It would be better to distribute the resources in an appropriate manner over hoarding them, Banhammer ,” Medkit grumbled, “You don't have any ulterior motives, do you?”

“Me? Ulterior motives?!” Banhammer reacted with disbelief, “Don't be ridiculous! If anything, you both sound like you have ulterior motives!”

“What the hell is that supposed to insinuate?!” Subspace hissed.

Medkit grimaced, “I didn't know wanting to complete our tasks simpler could be counted as an ulterior motive. What other reason would you have for wanting Clock for yourself besides having an excuse to, I don't know… hang out with her?”

Banhammer sighed to himself, “Fine.”

“Thank you,” Medkit responded.

Banhammer turned to me, “You get to pick though since it's your time so spend it where you want to spend it.”

The answer's obvious then. I do not want to interact with Subspace any further nor do I want to remotely have the chance of… seeing a familiar face from Blackrock. Nothing interesting or positive is going to come from going along with whatever schemes or plans Subspace has.

Either way, I'm still going to visit Boombox.

Before this odd feeling nags me continuously…

“I'll just help Medkit, it's fine.”

“WHAT?!” Subspace grunted, “But he said he doesn't even need the help anyway!! We haven't been able to talk for months until now!! Or hang out properly!! Please?!”

“I don't think I want to…”

“Oh, please, how could you not want to?! It'll be lots of fun though!! It's always been fun, right?!?!”

Swords, this is sickeningly weird.

“Maybe another time…”

“B-But, I- I-”

“Cut it out,” Banhammer growled.

“...We can talk more during the Phestival, Subspace.”

Subspace rolled his eye, clutching his arms, “Again with poor little me being all by myself then…!!”

Medkit let out a pained sigh of relief, as the other two wandered away, “I'll be over at your house then, we can surely get everything done on Sunday. I will bring the required supplies over so don't worry about buying anything.”

My house?

“How come we can't just go to yours?” 

“I'd… be better off with no visitors.”

“So would I…”

“Do you not have Boombox at your place?”

“Rarely.”

“I see…”

“It's a one-time thing anyway, it should be okay, I guess,” I said, “Give me your number then, I'll text you over the weekend.”

We exchanged numbers. I sent him a message containing my address to test it out.

“...Just… I live with somebody, don't interact with him. Got it?” I mumbled, “That's the only rule I'm going to enforce.”

Medkit nodded in agreement.

------------

And then it was Sunday.

The past two days have been rather agonizing.

On the first day, I was texting Boombox and banging on his door repeatedly to no avail. No response, no sign that he was even home at all, he didn't even read any of my texts. 

On the second day, same thing. Swords, I wish I could just climb up a ladder to his window and punch a hole through so I can drag him outside. He won't even bother to talk to me, let alone tell me what's going on unless I beat the words out of his lungs.

I've been considering confiding in Medkit, I was texting him ever since we traded numbers since it's been distracting me from the emotional anguish. It's all been stressing me out beyond belief, I feel unrelaxed and tense. I don't want to talk to Medkit about it just yet though. It’s still not his business either way.

I will if Boombox doesn't pick up anything this third attempt.

For the fifth time today, I called him.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

“Beeeeeeeep, sorry I'm a little busy at the moment, I'll call ya back eventually!! Okaycyasoooon-!!”

I hung up.

I'm coming over. I was already dressed waiting for Medkit to come over in an hour or two anyway.

I speed walked downstairs and out the door with no incident. Watch is in the garage again, thank gods. And then I was next door, flipping the latch to Boombox's gate open. 

I started pounding on the door again.

“BOOMBOX?! OPEN THE GODDAMN DOOR!”

I'm ten seconds away from kicking this fucking door off its hinges.

I tried the doorknob, jostling it once and then…

The door swung open.

Has it been unlocked this entire time?! 

Whatever, I can actually investigate now. And he better be home.

I stomped inside, sauntering towards the flight of stairs. I remember when he used to run up to the entrance to excitedly greet me whenever I loudly busted the door open.

….

It really is only just him and this relatively spacious house, huh? He never even told me why it's just him here nor how this place has been getting paid for considering he doesn't have a job… Will he ever tell me about it? Probably not. He's so avoidant about it and has been avoidant for years now.

His room was at the end of the upstairs hallway. 

I cracked the final door open.

….

“Boombox?”

Chapter Text

“Hey, Clock!” Boombox greeted, laying idly. He was curled up in his sheets, his tail drooping over the edge of the bed.

“Where the hell have you been? Are you so damn sick you can't even answer the phone?” I questioned, enraged.

He certainly didn't sound sick to me.

“Aren’t you supposed to be helping Medkit with the Phestival?”

“That... isn’t your business, how do you know about that?”

“Banhammer told me!”

“...So you and Banhammer have been working together for the Phestival.”

“Oh, I’ve been helping him over the internet.”

I rolled my eye, “Of course.”

“Man, I’m so proud of you, Clock! Medkit’s really a great fit for you!” Boombox giggled, “If only it didn’t make my little heart sting so much! But that’s okay...”

What?

“...You wanna tell me what’s going on?”

“Hehe, sorry...” he apologized, “But it’s okay, you seriously didn't need to come checking up on me, you know?”

“I'm gonna start checking on you when you don't answer the phone or read my texts.”

“...Is that all it would've taken?” Boombox asked solemnly.

“What... do you mean?”

“Is that all it would've taken to stop you from thinking about me like this?”

“Is there something wrong with that?” 

I examined the scene around us. His room was a mess, more of a mess than the dilapidated state it was usually in. Boombox's plushie collection was scattered all over the floor. Books were abandoned everywhere too, one of his shelves collapsed. On his desk, there were stacks upon stacks of origami swans burying the normal contents. Boombox’s laptop was left at the base of his bed with an empty tissue box on top of it. 

The lights were off, the blinds were shut, his typical bright green wallpaper resembled a duller color from the dim lighting. A single fan was blowing a soft breeze at his messy, tangled hair. Under his blankets, Boombox was still wearing his neon green pajamas. His visor was laying on his nightstand and he was facing away from me.

Now that I think about it, have I ever even seen him without his visor on?

“You know, Clock... sometimes I forget that you're still an AI! You really are so life-like, it’s shocking! You still surprise me every time we talk again!” he laughed dryly, “But moments like this are when I'm reminded that you aren’t perfect.”

...

Don't you fucking go reminding me of that shit. Everyone does it.

“Are you calling me stupid? Stupid for not being able to identify a problem right as it happens?”

“Not stupid, you’re only still learning! And when you’re learning, there’s bound to be things you don’t know,” Boombox giggled, “ And then sometimes, there’s the things you shouldn’t know, ya know? ”

“You—...There’s something wrong, isn't there?”

Considering the mess, no shit.

“Something wrong?” Boombox questioned, “Ha-ha! You’ve finally done it then...! And... I guess I’ve finally cracked to the point where even you could notice it.”

“...Only see the side of Boombox he wants you to see!”

“The hell have you been hiding, Boombox?” I grunted. “Why didn’t you say anything if you expected me to find out about whatever’s going on eventually?”

He rolled over, “I guess it was just denial. Or maybe my own foolishness. I don’t know!”

His eyes were bloodshot and puffy, eye-bags worse than Medkit’s.   They looked so... dark and dreary compared to the glowing neon of his visor.

And I’ve really never seen them before.

Boombox smiled weakly, noticing the shocked expression painted before him, “Well, now you know why the visor stays on!”

“Why— Why are you?”

“The cat’s out of the bag, and I’ve failed... again.”

I balled up my fists, “You have a lot of explaining to do.”

“I really do!” Boombox giggled, “But can you not connect the pieces together? If you’ve been worried then you would’ve been thinking about it more, right? You’re always thinking when things seem off!”

“...Yes, I have been.”

“Hahaha! I knew it! Oh no!” Boombox exhaustedly cried out. “That’s even worse.” 

“Don’t be vague, I want answers.”

He looked so relieved, “Is it the answers that you only care for, at least?”

“Not just the answers. I want to know what’s going on with you, stupid. ”

“...Oh, oh!” his eased face vanished, “No hesitation, huh? Hehehe...”

He pushed himself up to sit, “I know you don’t understand the concept of sadness well but...”

“But what ? And don’t bring that shit up.”

“...”

“Boombox? Say something. Please? ”

“Hey, imagine if you had an existence so utterly detestable to yourself and others that it makes you want to hide away and wait until you die. Or not really wait, more like, make yourself die. Does that make sense to you in any way?”

“What?”

“Oh, and then when people inevitably come to check on you, it makes you want to strangle yourself with a rope!”

“...I-I caught what you mean.”

Silence.

“Aw man, I didn’t want this to turn so awkward! It makes the feeling worse,” Boombox dryly commented, “But now you know, despite everything, despite me looking like the happiest little camper in the woods... I’m actually fighting off twenty bears without any limbs, and they all maul me every waking moment of my life.”

“...”

“And what an annoyingly weak little piece of shit I am!” Boombox laughed, “I already shut up for... how long... 7 years? And I can’t even hold it in for another day or two, nobody would want to talk to a pathetic soul like me!”

“It’s a funny effect, you know?” Boombox continued, “Nobody likes you unless you’re perfectly healthy and okay! You cry out for help, and then you get ignored, that’s the way it goes with anybody and everybody because being known as depressed is too taboo! I learned that the hard way, before we even met.”

“And now you’re here, checking up on me! Because I inconvenienced you by making you worry about something so insignificant and unpleasant to hear. In fact, you’re totally free to just turn around and leave and we’ll never see eachother again because they all run away the moment they learn too much about me anyway. ”

“I— Boombox. Listen here and listen closely,” I said, on edge, “I wish you would’ve been more honest since the beginning. I know I can’t do everything in the world to help but I literally would not have cared if you wanted comfort or a shoulder to cry on or a punching bag or something. You should know this already. Second of all, no , I’m not going to leave nor do I intend to now that I actually know something serious is going on. I haven’t been the best to you, I’m aware of that, but I still am trying to find it in me to be there for you, to care.”

“Well, I think you should stop. Or... not really stop, but redirect it elsewhere. There’s plenty of people who want that from you, but it really isn’t me.”

“Why should I?”

“Doesn’t it sound better to you if we’d just... continued on our merry way, pretending this never happened? Let things stay the same as they were before where you just ridiculed me without any guilt and I went along with it with a bright smile on my face? Doesn’t that sound better over endlessly thinking about what I’m up to? How I’m feeling over helping yourself? How might your actions affect me?” Boombox rambled, ”In fact, I shouldn’t even be speaking about this shit anymore. ‘Cause every single word’s gonna push you away more and more, nobody likes to have to walk around a demon made of eggshells! And yet... the words won’t stop flowing out like a broken faucet.”

He was shaking, “It doesn’t matter if you think your opinion somehow matters less because you’re not a demon. You’re enough of one for me! Enough where I don’t want to burden you or waste your time or risk you dropping me. Don’t waste your pity on me.”

“You’re not wasting my time or pity. Making sure my friends aren’t keeling over dead isn't a waste of my time. And it’s not any worse of a burden than I’ve dealt with in the past.”

Boombox dropped back onto his mattress, “Ignorance is bliss, Clock! We were both better off having things stay the same for an eternity. The stars really aligned in the worst way possible, like they’re alllll conspiring against me again. They must be by compelling you to stop by to witness my mess.” 

And then I plucked Boombox up from his bed, pulling him close into an embrace.

“H-Hey!” he cried out. I felt a tear drip onto my shoulder. His tail dragged across the floor.

“You know I’m not gonna let any of those thoughts slide, right? You can’t stop me from wanting to care about you.”

“Hehe... that’s why I’ve been such a dirty liar all this time!”

“Stop. I’m not going anywhere until I definitely know you won’t be dead any time soon.”

“N-No. I don’t want things to change. I don’t... I don’t want you to get scared away, I don’t want to be treated like I’m sensitive and frail, I don’t want to be the first thing on your mind .”

I pulled back from him, placing my hands on his shoulders, “Of course things can still be the same. I want to stay friends if that’s what you want to do. But I just want you to know that if you desperately need somebody I’m literally right here and I’m not going to ignore, neglect, or ditch you. If you don’t want any of that then I’m also perfectly fine with that too. The only time I’m forcefully going to step in is if you plan to do anything stupid , got it?”

Boombox suddenly dropped onto his knees, “It hurts. The fact this happened already hurts too much. I can’t reverse any of it. I can’t reverse what I’ve said. I can’t reverse all of the signs everyone else noticed. I can’t reverse all of the loneliness and isolation I brought upon myself. I can’t reverse all of the people that disappeared because they got tired of dealing with me!”

“HahahahaHA...!” Boombox cackled, sobbing, “Oh, Clock, do you know why I’ve b-been living alone here now? W-Where everybody else went? You... You... remember when there used to be people here, though you only saw them once when we were s-stupid kids!”

“....”

“Well, g-guess what? They left too! The two of them got up and left out of the b-blue!” Boombox huffed, wiping away tears, “They never came back! They never called me back! Not that it mattered anyway... b-because I already knew how to care for myself before they ditched me, as unbelievable as that s-sounds!! You... pick up life-skills fast when there’s n-nobody around to do it all for you!”

“And... and... and... the fact that I was okay with it for maybe... a w-week? But that’s because I was... i-ignorant! No more wine stains to clean, no more broken glass bottles to sweep, no more being awoken by screaming matches in the living room? But then the realization began to kick in-!”

“AHAHAHAHA... AND I’M MAKING IT ALL WORSE ON MYSELF!” Boombox shouted, “I REALLY AM A CHATTERBOX, AREN’T I?!”

“Breathe,” I said, forcing him to sit down on the floor with me, “Don’t talk anymore if you don’t want to say things you’ll regret later.”

“...”

“...”

“...Are you leaving yet?” Boombox asked flatly.

“In terms of abandoning you, no.”

“It wasn’t that hard to act normal before, why is it now?” Boombox whispered, “ I don’t want things to change. ”

“They won’t, Boom.”

“...”

“We’ll resume whatever shit we usually do tomorrow on Monday. I promise.”

“ Do I even want to? You know. And I know that you know. That’s already too much.”

“I can just omit all of the details you’re worried about me knowing, it’s all stored on a stupid drive anyway.”

“ No. I don’t want you to mess with yourself for me either.”

I sighed, “Can you promise me something then?”

“...What?”

“Whatever you think of things like this, I just want you to know that I’m not planning to go anywhere. No matter what you do or say, I don’t want to leave and I’ll still care enough to want you around. You didn’t abandon me when I was objectively contemptible so why shouldn’t I do the same?”

“...”

“Hehe... it really doesn’t work like that for me, Clock.”

“What do you mean?”

“Having something care at all doesn’t make me feel any better. It’s the opposite. ”

“Then think of it as me equally repaying you for your kindness.”

“I didn’t need you to repay me either.”

“It’s all what I want to do though. You’re not actively pulling my hand open for any of this, I’m offering you it by my own volition.”

“...Are you sure?”

“That I’m doing this willingly?”

“Yeah...”

“Yes, I’m very fucking sure, Boom. I’m very sure that I don’t want to lose my best friend. Things can’t stay the same if you’re dead.”

“...”

“Hey, how about we talk about something else then?”

“I... I can’t.”

“Why? Is there something else?”

He sniffled, “No. You still have to help Medkit, I don’t want to take away from that too. We’ve been here for a while.”

“Okay, look, will you at least not die ? Don’t do anything stupid unless you want me to drown in regrets, I know you wouldn’t want to do that, would you?”

“I don’t...”

“Hopefully he’s not waiting for me...” I mumbled, “I’ll be back later, okay? We’ll hang out then and during the Phestival tomorrow.”

Boombox nodded. I helped him up but he immediately laid back down onto his bed.

“See ya later,” I sighed.

“Mhm...”

Part of me thinks I should be feeling guilty for having to leave at all.

But then again, he doesn’t want me to alter too much for him and therefore, I should be justified in doing this, right?

...

Ah, I still lack the necessary emotions to truly understand again.

He is right about that.

I can’t actually empathize with any of it. 

I don’t even know if I said the right things there. The answers just came out of my mouth. 

And it still shouldn’t be right to have such an analytical stance on a subject so sensitive in nature. And yet, it happens. And what if Boombox noticed that and he took it the wrong way? And what if something does happen because of my own uncontrollable lack of true care?

Swords.

Medkit was standing outside my porch, clutching his phone in his hand while holding a plastic bag in his other.

Maybe, it would be better to think about him instead.

Well, compared to his school uniform, he was dressed far more casually, black turtleneck with dark teal pants and a lighter teal checkered scarf around his neck. He still had the same eyepatch over his left eye and the golden ring hanging from his antlers but no gloves. His hair was tied back in a loose, messy ponytail once again. A tuft was also poking from his back, a fluffy deer-like teal and white tail. He wore an open jacket over everything.

“Medkit.”

He smiled, “I thought you weren’t home, I was about to text you.”

“I was at Boombox’s place, it was a bit of an emergency...”

He raised his eyebrow, “Is he okay? Did something happen?”

“Nothing substantial, he just needed more cold medication. He has a slight fever but it should probably dissipate enough for him to come in tomorrow.”

I went for the front door, checking my pockets for my keys. 

“Fuck.” 

The door was also locked.

“What is it?”

“Forgot my goddamn keys,” I muttered, “Follow m—”

Suddenly, the door swung open.

“Darling? I reminded you about your keys on your way out...”

Watch glanced over to Medkit standing awkwardly behind me.

“Oh?”

I grabbed Medkit by the hand, dragging him in as I pushed past Watch. I think Medkit might’ve jumped out of his skin at that moment.

I tossed Medkit into my room upstairs and barricaded the door behind myself, sighing in relief.

At least, unlike Boombox’s place, my space was clean. I don’t decorate my room anyway. It’s just a desk, with all of my papers and school work and books on it, a chair for the desk, a bed, the crappy painting Boombox made for an art Phestival a while back. Beige wallpaper and dark brown wooden flooring too, one white-framed window with light brown drapes on the opposite wall of the door just over my gray-sheeted mattress. Everything has a heavy weight capacity for obvious reasons.

He was quivering, “What was-?”

“Don't ask questions,” I huffed, “Sorry.”

Medkit took his coat off, leaving it on my bed after a confirmatory nod from me. Not his scarf though, Medkit deposited everything he was holding onto the floor, dumping out some of the contents of the plastic bag. Out came a bunch of colorful paint bottles, “I have several questions...”

I rolled my eye, “You can ask one. ”

“Is that your father?”

“Guardian. By the time he'll be my ‘father’, I would've obliterated the Inpherno already.”

“Oh,” Medkit sighed, “...It is not necessarily my sort of aesthetic but a more pastel color pallet would probably fit the theme of a literature club over something overly vibrant. So I purchased the paints accordingly.”

“You want to paint these things?”

“The color would be less even if we were to color them in with markers.”

“Fair.”

Medkit also took a plastic package from the stack of items he brought, “I wasn't sure about what type of flooring your bedroom had so I bought this too to catch any spills.”

He laid out a plastic drop cloth in the middle of the room. He moved everything onto the cloth.

I sat down, “You didn't have to be so considerate about it... You spent money on this?”

He sat down too, “I had some to spare.”

“So, you have a job?”

“...Yes.”

I began unwrapping the plastic off of the paint bottles.

“You don’t want to put your scarf aside?” I questioned, gesturing to his scarf.

“It’s okay.”

“Then, how’s your day been? Did you do anything this morning?” I asked, it was the afternoon so.

“Absolutely nothing, for your information,” Medkit said, “Besides reading, I finally finished that book I told you about when you first joined.”

“How was it?”

“Dreadful. The ending was unsatisfying. Not because it wasn’t to my liking or something, but it was just quite objectively a strange way to end off a convoluted story.”

“Ha! And your AP teacher recommended that ?”

“I can’t say I’m surprised he recommended something so quaint.”

I set down the paints one by one, “What even happened?”

“Well, the main character shot himself in the climax. And the book ended there, his story just felt incomplete. If the author wanted to proceed with a shock-inducing ending like that then it would’ve been more beneficial to do the character more justice... but that is just my opinion. The novel had good reviews online when I ordered it.”

“What do you do with the books you finish anyway?”

“Either I donate them to the school or local library or I just leave them to collect dust. This one will probably go to the library...” Medkit sighed, “Did you ever read that book I gave you?”

Ha! No.

“Take a wild guess!” I snickered.

“Didn’t.”

“Yep,” I said, “I’m sorry but I can’t sit down and read something even if I was held at gunpoint. It’s not because I didn’t appreciate the gift, I honestly detest reading books.”

“No, I was expecting a reaction like that anyway. I don’t mind.” He sounded sincere enough.

“Oh, I should've asked this sooner but what made you join the Literature Club? Was it just out of interest for the concept itself or...?” I asked.

“I wouldn't have joined if Subspace was there but he joined after I did. But I joined for the appeal, I'm moderately passionate about literature. I don't have an abundance of spare time to read, however, since I have to juggle school and work. I only have Sundays off.”

“Are you in any other clubs?”

“Normally, I don't join clubs but I gave the Literature Club a chance since it was one of the smaller clubs. Sometimes, I still have regrets about it.”

“Because of...”

“A lot more happened before you even joined, it was a mess all around,” Medkit mumbled, “And I thought I would've been able to find somebody to discuss books with but that will have to wait for a while considering Subspace tends to chase away the new members we receive.”

“That's just... expected, why hasn't Banhammer kicked him out yet?”

“I don't know anymore,” Medkit grumbled, “I can't help but wonder if Subspace only joined to torment me. Half of the time we've interacted before you joined, he's been acting oddly friendly or conversational. But I would not be surprised if the sole reason was to be an annoyance.”

I took one of the bundles of yarn that Medkit also brought from the bag, “Anyway, what's the plan with this shit?”

“So, there's two different decorations we're going to attempt to replicate,” Medkit began, “I found this one online but how it's constructed is that it's an array of paper cones connected together by string to form a rectangular wall accent. Each cone is painted with a specific shade of a color and arranged to form an ombre. We need two of those to hang on the walls. I’ll tell you the other after we finish this one.”

“That’s just a shit ton of work...”

“...And we only need 50 paper cones for one set,” Medkit clarified as he took out a large stack of uncolored construction paper and new paint brushes from the plastic bag. There were also two rolls of tape and pairs of scissors at the bottom.

“I don’t mind constructing the things but why’d you buy everything ?” I questioned, “Inflation is literally crazy these days, did you spend 500,000 bux on this?”

“I wasn’t sure what you had.”

“You could’ve asked.”

“...I didn’t want you to use your supplies on this.”

“Hm. Okay.”

Medkit took a sheet of paper from the stack, “You have to roll them up like... this.”

He demonstrated the specific roll, holding it together with two fingers.

“Then, you have to tape it together on the inside like...”

Medkit was attempting to reach for one of the tapes but they both had rolled across to my side. I handed him one. He pulled a long line of tape from the dispenser and stuck it down the seam inside of the cone. 

“Simple enough,” I mumbled.

“Make sure you leave a small hole at the top,” he advised, pointing to the vertex of the cone.

Medkit discarded his cone off to the side.

“49 to go,” I mused, taking a sheet to roll up.

We sat in silence for a good five minutes, it only being broken by the obnoxious sound of unrolling tape.

“You’re a senior, right?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“Any colleges you applied to or something?”

“I... don’t plan to go to college anytime soon.”

“But you’re taking an AP class so wouldn’t it make sense to go?”

“I will eventually, but I have a lot more saving to do. I already have a stable job as is.”

“As a fast food worker?” I joked.

Medkit frowned, “No amount of money is worth doing a job like that.”

I tossed a cone into the pile, “You’re not getting your money’s worth for the time considering they all get paid a few thousand bux over minimum wage.”

Medkit pushed the cones closer together, “Everyone in Banland probably works fast food jobs, it’s work fit for a prisoner.”

“What do you do then?”

“It’s... complicated,” Medkit sighed.

“Complicated as in?”

“I shouldn’t say too much but let’s just say I work for a Lost Temple Church.”

“Why be so paranoid? You think there’s cameras outside my window? I can go close them if you want.”

“No. Maybe a better way to describe it... would be that it’s a job I’m assuming you would take without caring.”

“Oh, so it’s illegal work or something.”

His voice hitched, “I-”

I giggled, “That part gave it away, do they hire?”

“...”

“I’m messing with you,” I clarified, “Obviously, you wouldn’t be doing something that stupid. I didn’t know Lost Temple had any churches though, I thought everyone was too wealth-deluded.”

“...Yes, I’m not,” Medkit sighed again, turning away, “But like I said, it’s complicated.”

“No place would want to hire me in a million millenia, since everything’s taken at face value anyway, haha... Including myself.” 

“There’s no need for you to work anyway, let alone go to school... Aren’t you built by Blackrock?” he gestured to the glowing engravings on my shoulder plates.

“...Objectively, yes. But, I don’t do shit for them anymore nor do I ever intend to.”

“Isn’t that a relief,” he mumbled sarcastically, “I forgot entirely you’re not exactly a demon.”

So did I. For a second.

I pushed past it, “I haven’t even been there since middle school, I’m more decommissioned if anything.”

“Why be decommissioned? You’re still perfectly functional, aren’t you?”

Fucking hell.

“Physically, I am! But not mentally, they’ll need to drag all of Crossroads to Blackrock if they want to get me to work for them ever again!” I laughed, restive, “I really never want to go back because I detest all of them! And didn’t you used to live there?”

“Yes... Not that I follow anything related to Blackrock anymore, but wasn’t there some sort of incident several years ago? It was all over Crossroads news too.”

“...Oh! You mean that scientist that got assassinated?”

And then his memory never goes away, does it?

“Yes, that one. I’m still surprised by it too. Everyone thinks those demons are untouchable but there it was.”

“They’re still demons like anybody else, ...fortunately.”

“If you’re from Blackrock... does that mean the person downstairs is from there? Is he your creator?”

“Guardian. Not creator. There’s a difference.”

Is he done talking about it ?

He was staring back at me uncomfortably.

“...I’ll stop asking questions about them, you sound tense.”

That’s right.

“I don’t want to think about it anymore either,” Medkit finished.

Anyway...

We were working relatively fast, around 20 cones left.

“Who’s going to be tying them?” I asked, discarding another cone.

“I’m the one who watched the tutorial for it... It’s relatively simple enough.”

I groaned, “I still don’t understand the point of any of this.”

“The cones?”

“No, not that. I don’t know why I’m still in the Literature Club,” I explained, “Something’s just compelling me to stay despite the fact that things have been going so wrong ever since I joined. I think about leaving but my mind automatically glosses over it or dismisses it.”

“...I don’t disagree with decidedly leaving, but we can only hope the situation improves once we have new members willing to stay.”

“Wow, has Subspace just been presenting his homemade live leak videos to all of them? Is that why no one wants to stay?”

“He’s done that one other time. It went as well as you would’ve expected.”

I laughed sarcastically, “Oh, did he finally spend a day in jail?”

“No. Nothing was done. Again,” Medkit muttered, “Banhammer did reprimand him but he certainly didn’t learn his lesson considering what happened last Friday. I don’t know how the blockhead hasn’t realized that shouting at Subspace won’t fix the problem.”

“Have you ever tried just calling the police?”

Medkit sighed, “No shit. The last demon did too, nothing ever happened besides Subspace breaking into his house and poisoning said demon to death after the phone call pissed Subspace off... but none of us speak of that in front of him. He thinks that was a ‘moment of weakness’ and he will tear my horns out if I bring it up.”

“Oh.”

“And I’ve tried, probably, 100s of times to get the authorities involved but he just... shows up the next day like nothing ever happened. I don’t even know if they bothered to speak to him, let alone pass him off with another warning.”

“Of course the police are going to be Blackrock-biased. No wonder the fucker thinks he’s untouchable!” I mused.

“That’s corruption for you.”

“Paaa-thetic,” I winced.

“Again with Banhammer, I do not understand why he hasn’t fully committed to kicking Subspace out either. He threatens Sub over and over and over but doesn’t follow through. I think it’s out-of-character for him considering he’s always been strict outside of the club.”

“Out-of-character?”

A lot of those instances have been popping up now that I think about it. But they’re probably nothing.

Medkit pushed the cones together again.

“...While we’re here, do you want anything to drink? Or to eat?”

“Water would be fine.”

I began to stand up. 

“If you have any, also get two disposable cups of water for the paints...” Medkit also prompted.

I made my way out of the room and downstairs towards the kitchen.

At the base of the stairs...

“Clock? Do you have a second?”

“No.”

“I just wish you woulda told me if you were bringing guests over...”

I passed through into the kitchen, “My life isn’t your business anymore.”

I took a glass from the cabinet and filled it with ice and water from the fridge’s dispenser. I left it on the counter. I grabbed two paper coffee cups from another cabinet and filled those with sink water. I immediately retreated back upstairs, carrying everything gingerly.

Medkit tossed another cone into the now sizable pile, “That should be the last one for this set.”

I handed him the cup which he promptly sipped from, tiredly.

“You sure you didn’t want a coffee or something?”

“I’ve had enough caffeine for one day, I might have a heart attack if I have another...”

I placed the two other cups down, one on my side of the plastic sheet and one on his side.

“Firstly...” he said.

He stuck his hand into the pile, pushing all of the cones apart carefully. He then meticulously nudged the 50 cones into 5 piles of 10 each across one end of the drop cloth.

“These ones,” he pointed to the ones on the far left, “...stay unpainted and these,” he then pointed to the far right, “...have to be the most saturated.

I snatched one of the paint bottles, a yellow, “What color?”

He picked up a red, it was more vibrant compared to the rest of the pastel paints, “Actually, no,” he murmured to himself.

“We can dilute it with white for a pink instead and then just use the base red by itself with a little white for a vibrant magenta for the last set. Pink might look cute,” I suggested.

“Sure.”

I put the yellow down, “Wait, shit, we need a pallet.”

“A pallet? I thought I bought a set?” 

Medkit checked the bag, “Gods.”

“It’s okay, we just need a plastic surface.”

Hm.

I pointed to the plastic bag, “Give it here.”

Medkit passed it over. I tore it down one side and spread it out on the ground. I squirted some of the red paint into a clean glob onto it.

“Problem solved!” I declared. Medkit took the bottle from my hand, pouring a generous amount for himself before taking the large bottle of white and dripping some in. He used one of the paintbrushes to mix it. It gave a nice, even magenta. I added a larger quantity of white to form my mixture, just a very light pink. I worked from the left forward and he worked from the right forward. I made sure to evenly paint them.

“You have any nonliterature related hobbies?” I randomly asked.

“No, work takes too much of my spare time to do anything else but read.”

Suddenly, a faint smell of minty musk registered in my “nose” .

“Goddamn, the hell is that smell ? ”

“You can smell things?” Medkit raised an eyebrow, “Maybe, it’s just the paint. Acrylic has a distinct smell.”

“No, no, it’s kind of musky... like cologne or something. I think that’s what it’s called. And mint.”

“...O-Oh, that’s me.”

I tilted my head, “You’re wearing cologne?” 

“You didn’t notice until now? I’ve been wearing it for as long as we've known each other.”

“My sense of smell isn’t exactly that astute, not as much as a demon's, I guess.”

…

“...I specialize more with sight.”

“Is it a bad thing? I can go wash it off if it’s bothering you...”

“No, it’s not, I was just acknowledging it,” I answered, “Why wear any though? It’s not like we’re on a date or something.”

“A d-date? ”

“And you didn’t know I could smell until right now...”

“N-No, it’s not for any of that. It’s just a force of habit...”

“Oh, well, I like it.”

“....”

I was thrown off by the sudden teal hue that painted itself on his face.

Hmm.

“You okay?”

“Just... warmer than usual.”

“I told you to take the scarf off earlier.”

“Not t-that.”

Heh.

“Suit yourself.”

I finished my first set of ten. I moved onto the next set, mixing a darker shade of pink this time.

“The color pallet’s really looking like something for Valentine’s Day,” I commented.

“...It does fit since the Phestival’s theme this year is Midnight Crows and Lovedoves for Valentine's Day.”

I groaned, “They should’ve moved the date to be closer instead of the end of February, doesn’t make any sense to me.”

“I don’t control when Crossroads schedules its events...”

I glanced at him, “The deities might as well control everything anyway!” 

“I'm... not a deity.”

“But if you were then you'd be my favorite one!” I spewed arbitrarily.

“W-WHAT?”

I snickered.

“Why-?! That was s-so unnecessary... nor did it make any sense...” Medkit stammered, pointing the handle of his brush at me threateningly, “If I were as strong as a deity then I would rather stab you to death!”

“Try me, we'll probably kill each other,” I shrugged, mixing more paints to finish off the last set.

Medkit laid out the cones more evenly to let them dry, gritting his teeth, “...”

He’s still bright teal.

I poked his nose with the end of my brush, “Whaaat?”

“It’s nothing,” he dismissed.

“Really now?”

“Yes.”

“Sure...”

I finished off painting the last few cones.

“Now what?” I asked, scratching my head. Surprisingly, I got almost no paint on my fingers.

“...I-It’s acrylic so it doesn’t need much time to dry, I can just get started on tying them together.”

I reached for one of the dried cones but Medkit’s arm stopped me instead.

“I... I can do it myself, thank you though,” Medkit murmured.

I pulled away as Medkit took the yarn and double-tied a knot at one of the ends of a long strand, the side closer to the yarn bundle. He took one of the deeply saturated cones and slid the other end of the string through the hole until it stopped at the blocking knot. He then repeated the same knot a bit above the first cone before sliding the next lightest hue down until it stuck onto the knot. He was supposed to repeat this until the entire shade range was on the column.

I ran my fingers across the plastic, bored, “You know how Subspace is supposed to be reading a poem now on Monday?”

“Mhm...”

“Did you write it yet?”

“Yes, I did.”

I sneered, “Oooh, what’s it about then?”

“Something I know he’ll probably hate.”

“Which isss?”

“I don’t think I want to spoil it.”

“A least a little hint, pleeeaaaasee?” I droned.

“The entire piece is just meant to be bathetic and mushy. Just the opposite of Subspace ‘aesthetic’ as he likes to call it.”

“Ohhh... Seriously?! ”

The image of him doing something like that is already amusing enough.

“And I assembled it to be in his childish grammatical style so it’s more believable that he wrote it. He was begging me to keep it ‘normal’ over the phone after he found my number again but his definition of ‘normal’ is just another crack skit.”

“HA! Ohhh noooo!! This shit’s about to be so awful !!” I snickered, “How are you gonna make him finish it though?! Because I’m pretty sure he’ll protest in the middle of his presentation!!”

“I doubt he will because he’ll just regret backing down from something in front of an audience.”

“Well, but he’s already shaming himself as is so he probably can shoulder the extra shame from stage fright.”

“No, I don’t think he would want to make it worse even if his ego is up in flames!” Medkit laughed, “But just in case, I’m going to convince Banhammer to be on standby to force him. Banhammer won’t want the event to go ary either.”

Medkit, after snipping the entire column off the rest of the yarn, tied the finished portion to another longer line of string. The gradient went from no hue at the top to a vibrant pink at the bottom. 

He stood up, holding up the hanging cones, “The finished product would dangle like this against a wall.”

The cones swung in Medkit’s shaky grip.

“B-But I have to add another nine columns with this pattern parallel to one another.”

“You sure don’t need help?”

“It’s okay.”

I took another blank paper from the stack, “I’ll just work on the next set of cones then.”

“Mhm...” he nodded, already halfway done with the next column.

I threw the first new cone to another side of the plastic drop cloth, “Do you ever do anything outside besides work?”

“...”

“What?”

“I’m thinking.”

“You have to think about an answer for a question like that?”

“I do play chess.”

“With who?”

“...Myself.”

I almost burst out laughing, “Seriously?!”

“I’m being sarcastic, I just don’t have anyone to play it often with.”

“So you play it recreationally?”

“I... used to play it more before I moved to Crossroads.”

“You can’t even play with anyone from school?”

“Theoretically I could, there’s plenty who claim they know the rules enough to play. But they tend to boast that they know how to play but they all arbitrarily move pieces without a strategy in mind instead.”

“That’s a convoluted way to say everyone sucks.”

He smirked, “That is true though.”

“Ooh, I didn’t know you were the type to be cocky!”

“I think I have the right to be, I can’t remember the last time I’ve impartially lost.”

“I don't know, maybe the dementia's creeping up on you! Or you just blocked every loss from your mind out of shame.”

“First of all, almost nobody gets dementia at 18. Second of all, no.”

“You certainly act like you belong in a retirement home.”

“I do not.”

“Heh, I knoowww...”

I spun a cone around in my fingertips before discarding it into the pile too.

“I was on my school's chess team in elementary school,” Medkit continued.

“Blackrock has chess teams? And for the elementary level? I thought you all had allergies to the concept of entertainment.”

“I wouldn’t say I made any name for myself though, nor did I even in general.”

“Weren't you and Subspace classmates or something in elementary?”

“...”

“Hm. I don't really know the full story but as far as I know, it wasn't pretty.”

“It couldn't be any less obvious considering...” he gestured vaguely to the eyepatch on his face.

“And then Subspace turned out way worse, I guess. He's been fucked up since as long I've known him.”

His eye was fixated on the ground, “...”

“You okay?”

“...He deserved every inch of that rot on his body,” he was excessively tense, gripping the strings in his hands, “He was never a good person to begin with. And he never will be even if he spontaneously decided to make a change because he's physically incapable of abandoning his dignity.”

His tone was bitter, caustic.

“Ha, it makes me wonder how badly his parents fucked up for him to turn out that way...”

“...”

“Sorry for bringing it up.”

He waved his hand, finishing the last column, “You don't need to apologize.”

Medkit went to assemble the last of the columns onto the connecting string. He held it up.

“Is it good?” he asked.

The cones dangled down in a beautiful, even pink ombre color. Surprisingly, it was thoroughly held together by the knot work.

“Aw, It's cute!” I gushed.

He laid it onto the floor.

Medkit rolled his eye, “Of course you would know what cute looks like.”

“Whaaat?”

“...D-Did I just say that?” 

And his face flushed teal again. Haha, not that I’ll ever acknowledge it verbally. 

“Huh? You said something?” I asked obliviously.

“I didn't.”

“Okay~!”

Medkit began to organize the existing cones into the same 5 piles of 10, shielding his face from my skeptical eyeing. His cheeks only maintained a fuzzy blue fluster.

“So...” I began again, "Were you just really skilled at chess back then?”

“A-According to my old peers, ‘really skilled’ would have been putting it lightly.”

“How come you didn't just join the school's chess club?”

“Technically, I could now if I quit the Literature Club, but I didn't have the time to in my earlier years. And it would be too much of a hassle to switch clubs… right now.”

“Fair enough.”

“Besides, the club president is a lousy excuse for a chess player,” Medkit mused, smirking.

“And what? Would you have made a better club president?”

“Absolutely not,” he sighed, “But I am concerned that the school’s varsity chess club has him in their ranks. He is laughable in comparison.”

I pointed at him accusingly, “Laughable in comparison to you .”

“But, Gods, no wonder the school has unimpressive numbers in championships.”

“Boo hoo, it's impossible to find a challenge now! Poor you!” 

“I would love to see you try getting somewhere.”

“No way, it wouldn't be fair for you to play against me! I wouldn't wanna put your win streak to shame like that!”

“Playing against a computer isn't exactly impossible.”

“...Tell that to that World Chess Champion who lost to a computer in 1997...”

“Could you even do any of that? Maybe you're just bluffing.”

“You won't know if I'm bluffing ‘til we play.”

“Do you even own a chess set?”

I deflated, “Boombox has one at this place but I don't wanna go over and ask.”

“We can always make plans,” he proposed casually.

“Ooh, you want to make plans?”

His eye widened with realization, “T-There's nothing wrong with that!”

“We could after the Phestival if you want to.”

“I have work after the Phestival, I believe,” Medkit murmured, reaching to help with finishing up the next set of paper cones, “But, would you want to wait until next Sunday?”

“Suuure, we’d have all the time in the world to do whatever anyway.”

Medkit pushed his hair away from his eye, shaking his head. His hair tie suddenly fell off his head, sliding down his back onto the floor. His hair puffed out.

He glanced back, “Ah.”

I crawled to it, picking it up, “I got it.”

“No- No, it’s fine.”

“I insist!”

He leaned away from me, “Do you even know how to tie a ponytail?”

My hand grazed his locks, he jolted.

“My own hair is tied back, of course I fucking can!”

He was swaying, locked in place, “......”

I remembered something, “...Do you not want me to?”

He sighed, one hand gripping his wrist in preparation, “No, you can.”

“Hm. Okay.”

I fully wrapped my fingers around a chunk of his hair, gently pulling his head back. He was still shaky, breathing heavily and squeezing the nerves into his hand. His tail was standing torpid.

“Are you okay? ” I chuckled, “I’ll stop if you’re just gonna break your wrist.”

Medkit did confide in me yesterday about being terrified of being touched by others. Told me to just keep my distance when we meet up but he never clarified why he’s spooked by it, it’s just a phobia that exists as far as I know.

“ It’s fine ,” he responded, apprehensively, “Exposure therapy is beneficial anyway.”

I attempted to stretch out the band to wrap around his hair correctly. Then I went to curl the band onto itself to tighten it. 

And then it snapped after one rough stretch, smacking Medkit on the back of his neck.

“AGH-”

“Shit!” I hissed.

Medkit panted.

I retreated my hands, “Sorry about that...”

“I-I have extra bands at home anyway.”

“I’m apologizing for you, idiot,” I corrected, “I have extra ties, here.”

I stood up, moving to my closet. I threw open the door, reaching into a small plastic container where I’ve been collecting hair ties on a shelf. A particular one caught my eye.

I snickered.

I also took a hairbrush from the same shelf. I held the band tightly in my hand to hide it from Medkit. Not that he was paying attention as he continued to work on cones. I sat on my knees behind him, slowly taking his hair back into my fingertips.

Medkit trembled for a second before settling again. He tried to focus on getting work done.

I pressed the brush against his head, “You really need to run a brush through your hair, I don’t even think I could tie it correctly unless I clean it up.”

“You... can.”

I began prying away at the tangles, “How come you didn’t brush it to begin with?”

“I-I...” he stammered, freezing, “I don’t like the feeling of my hair getting y-yanked.”

I dropped the brush, pulling the tangles apart with my fingers instead. It’s supposed to hurt less.

“...I didn’t know Blackrock started manufacturing their machines to have hair,” Medkit commented.

“You mean mine!?” I laughed, “It’s not rooted, it’s just a wig.”

“I wouldn’t have ever known, it looks realistic.”

“I’m pretty sure the strands are actually made from demon hair. And it adheres pretty firmly and flush to my head. I only take it off before I sleep so it doesn’t get too tangled. I prefer to style and brush it when it’s off my head so I don’t think I would be able to tie a ponytail with it on...”

Once I released most of the knots, I pressed some of his hair into another bundle and tied it together with the band.

I was about to start smiling widely, pulling away.

“Do you have a mirror?” Medkit asked, finishing off one of the ten last cones.

“Sure.”

I fetched a hand held mirror from the closet. I held it up to him.

I narrowed my eye, “What do you think?”

Medkit swiveled his head back and forth for the mirror. It certainly looked like how he ties his hair for school... Except there’s one detail that’s off.

Teal exploded across his ashamed face again, “W-What?!”

The hair tie had a silk, yellow bow attached to it.

“How cute, you look like a pretty little princess now!” I mocked.

He reached for the hair tie to pull it off.

I melted in disappointment, “Mmm... He doesn’t like it...”

He paused, “...”

His hand retreated, “Fine.”

I clapped my hands, “Perfect!”

I plopped down across the tarp from him, “Oh and you can keep it if you want! You really look great in it.”

“I’m only agreeing to this because we aren’t in public.”

I took my phone from my pocket, “Hold still!”

“NO!” Medkit shielded his face as the shutter flashed.

I held the screen with the photo up to him, “It’s adorable!”

“Delete that!”

“Yeah, yeah, I will...” I grumbled, trashing the picture, “I wouldn’t want anyone to see this either.”

“...”

The last set of cones were complete, already organized into piles.

“Same colors?” I asked.

“The crow color palette this time.”

“So a very dark purple?”

“Pastel purple to dark purple, yes.”

I took the purple and white paints, adding a few drops of the purple into a glob of white before mixing them together for a very light purple. I repeated the same painting procedure on the second set of 10 cones on my side. Medkit added three parts of black to one part of purple to create a very deep hue. 

I was still bored, “You into any movies?”

Medkit shuttered, “The movies I’ve watched left a very sour taste in my mouth... So I haven’t seen anything new since I left.”

“How so?”

“They were all either mediocre or obvious box office cash grabs.”

“Oh, so you’ve only watched Blackrock movies.”

“Yes.”

“Goddamn, I need to take you out to see a Lost Temple movie sometime,” I recommended, “Some of their work is incredible, I’ll tell you. Actually, all of the good films are produced in Lost Temple. But Playground is better in the music department, actually.”

“I wouldn’t mind that.”

“I swear, nothing noteworthy entertainmentwise comes from Blackrock. Everyone living there is just so dull and disillusioned and it reflects so strongly in everything they produce.”

“...”

“Well, you don’t live there so you aren’t like them. And you haven't been since the beginning,” I clarified.

“Thanks...” Medkit sighed, relieved, “There are some popular songwriters from Blackrock, though none of it fits my taste. From what I’ve heard, they’ve amassed a decent audience outside of the region.”

“It’s all just rock or generally extremely bassy music, it’s what Boombox was listening to a few days ago. Demons like that shit, I don’t know how.”

“Modern music is as uninspired as Blackrock movies.”

“What?” I replied, “Are you really just a Boomer in a teenager’s body?”

Medkit chuckled, “I don't think there's anything wrong with preferring classical music.”

“Of course you like classical music!” I groaned.

“Please, you probably just listen to Boombox’s music...”

I cringed, “I hate that you’re not wrong.”

“You’re serious?”

“I don’t listen to music on my own so I just listen to whatever Boombox plays, so technically, yes.”

“I feel sorry for you.”

“Rightfully so!” I exclaimed, “The only exception would be anything from Blackrock though, I was so close to smashing his phone to bits back there.”

The two of us were working quickly, it was already down the last two sets.

“Ha, name a plot of a shitty movie you watched,” I prodded.

“Gods, let’s see...”

His eye wandered around.

“I’ve practically deleted most of them from my mind, but I remember an old friend of mine took me out to watch a horror movie at the theater in Blackrock’s capital,” Medkit began, “It was one of those low-budget religious horror movies. I think it’s a knockoff of a popular Thieves’ Den movie but the title of either is escaping me right now...”

“Thieves’ Den horror movies... Well, there’s the entire The Exorcist franchise. That was made in Thieves’ Den.”

“No, definitely not that. The one with the Nun.”

“Okay then it’s probably the one called The Nun.”

Medkit’s head sank, “The title is that simple?”

“The other horror movies with Nuns were made in Lost Temple so that’s probably your movie.”

“Anyway, the entire film was in terrible quality, like it was being filmed from a smudged phone camera. For one of the scenes, the main character was in a house, attempting to save his sister from being abducted by the Nun. But then he tripped and tumbled down the stairs before he full-body crashed into a Christmas tree at the base of the stairs. SIde note, the stunt straps were protruding through his clothes and part of the setup was visible on camera.”

“I would’ve expected them to have just tossed the guy down the stairs but go on...”

“About this house, the house had an obnoxious amount of wooden crosses all over the walls and other religious memorabilia. And somehow none of it was affecting the creature, didn’t make sense to me. A few scenes later, the viewer sees what the Nun looks like after the main character practically runs up to the Nun unarmed. The face was concealed for around an hour up to the climax and whoever did the makeup on the actor was clearly a beginner. Just unrealistic, butchered, and tacky.”

“It’s some eldritch creature, obviously, it’s going to be unrealistic.”

“That’s not what I meant. The producers were going for the appearance of something eldritch, yes, but it appeared more like a normal demon with white clown makeup. The movie ended after the main character got tackled and ‘clawed into pieces’ by the Nun. The Nun tackled him like one of those pop-out Halloween decorations demons put on their lawns. All of the blood was ketchup too and the guts were made out of ground meat. Also his sister somehow disappeared mid scene. The entire thing might as well have been a fever dream, nothing made sense, it was awful.”

“The way you described made it sound slightly bearable!” I wheezed, “Was the popcorn at least worth going?!”

“I was the complete opposite and I am certain of it. And I wanted to spit it out into the bucket, it was stale. But we were sharing. The entire bucket with tickets for us both was 70,000 bux, absolute cheats for business owners. I was sick of movies after that.”

I shook my head, “I think I would’ve shot myself so quickly.”

“Gears weren’t allowed.”

“Sneak it in next time you watch and shoot!”

“I would rather do that right now than bare the torture again.”

“What did your friend think?”

“Neutral opinion.”

I threw myself back, “HOW?!”

“She told me there were some interesting scenes that warranted a neutral verdict.”

“You’re all closeted, uncultured shits!”

Medkit pointed his paint brush at me threateningly again, “Watch your tone.”

“What if I don’t feel like it?”

“I... don’t know.”

“Ha. I win.”

“This isn’t a competition.”

Gods, how many times have I even said shit like that to Boombox?! I’m looking in a mirror now.

Once all of the colored cones were laid out, Medkit got to weaving everything together with the string again.

Medkit continued, “I doubt a single song Boombox listens to involves any instrument.”

“I’m pretty sure there’s only like a handful with even one, it’s all EDM.”

“You’ve seen his playlist?”

“He’s really closeted about that too, but last I saw there were a good few thousand songs...”

“Boombox? Being withdrawn with something?” Medkit questioned, skeptically, “I would’ve never expected that from him in a few thousand decades .”

There’s still what Boombox said earlier.

Flimsy words of acknowledgement was all that came out, “Everyone’s bound to have things they’d prefer to keep to themselves anyway.”

“Fair. Forget I said that then, it’s his business why he’s so secretive about a playlist...”

------------

I returned with a taller glass of water for Medkit. He just wanted more water since he clearly DESERVES one for doing all of his tedious knot-tying.

He was just about done with it anyway when he laid it out next to the other decoration. He wiped his hands off with the wet-wipes I placed on my desk.

I handed him the water as he did so.

He gulped down a third of it before he spoke, “How long has it been? I wasn’t paying attention.”

I can already tell the time off the top of my head, “It’s 3:43.”

“Three hours?!”

“Yep.”

Medkit sighed, “Time flies.”

“Please tell me we’re done...” I groaned.

“There’s another piece we were supposed to finish today.”

I flipped him off, “DAMN YOU!”

He pushed my finger back down, “I’m simplifying it because I’m feeling equally as lazy as you.”

I took one step closer to him, “Do tell then, what do ya need next, sir?” 

His face exploded with color again, “I-I can’t explain when y-you’re on top of me!”

I was smiling widely under everything.

I shrugged, pulling away, “Oh, I was just enthusiastic about what you wanted to say. Just making sure I’ll hear everything.”

He sat back onto his designated spot on the tarp again, wiping his face off like he’s trying to remove the painfully obvious stain on his cheeks. I dropped down onto mine.

“I bought pre-cut papers for it...” Medkit said. He dug out a wad of blank accent cutouts. I don’t know how to describe them or what they’re called, they resemble long strips except one side is cut to be wavy while the other is flat, “Just splash paint onto the construction paper and cut out random shapes. Glue them onto this afterward.”

“You don’t even want to paint the strips?”

“I can’t be bothered...”

I took the bottle of yellow and dropped a generous glob onto a piece of paper, “On it, boss.”

“That doesn’t mean wasting the paint.”

“You bought giant bottles either way.”

“You’re deforming the paper...”

I used the brush to spread out the paint across the sheet.

“There’s these crazy ass rumors I’ve been hearing from my lunch block,” I remarked, “Have you heard any of them?”

“What’s your lunch block?”

I left the sheets I painted to dry for a minute, “North Caf, period four.”

Medkit’s head perked up, “We share the same lunch block...”

“Seriously? I’ve never seen you there.”

“It’s because either I sign up for the library slots or we just sit far away from each other.”

Not that I ever look up from the table when I’m at lunch anyway.

“I don’t ever go buy lunch in any case, it’s so... unpalatable,” Medkit cringed.

I cut one of the papers into triangles with the scissors Medkit also bought, “It’s school food, obviously it’s going to be. Demons do say the pizza is really good though but I don’t ever get anything since it's... uh, excessive for me.”

“I buy the salads if I’m particularly starving, but those are once in a blue moon events. The lettuce is always more wilted than a flower in the middle of a desert,” Medkit lamented, “And what of the rumors? Do they have to do with either of us? I don’t follow any of that.”

“Oh, no, it’s just something I found hilarious!” I clarified, “Basically, a lot of demons have been talking about Hyperlaser recently.”

“Hyperlaser? If there's going to be rumors about students from Blackrock, they’re usually all morose but uninteresting.”

“Some lunch lady caught Hyperlaser stealing boxes of those packets of the Italian dressing from the caf’s storage room.”

“ What? ”

“There was also another instance of somebody noticing Hyper’s bag being stuffed to the brim with packets, like it was burying his books,” I explained, “Also, I can attest to it because I saw a packet fall out of his pocket when he was going to his table... I don’t know what the fuck he’s actually doing, everyone’s saying he’s a dressing addict.”

“That sounds too ridiculous to be true.”

“The school literally addressed the box stealing incident in a school-wide email yesterday to get everyone to shut up about it.”

“ That’s what the email was referring to?”

“According to the lunch block, yes,” I confirmed, “Hyper is supposed to be getting suspended and taken to therapy for his supposed dressing incident, though the therapy part is probably made up.”

“I did pass by Hyperlaser a few times while he was eating lunch, he has his salads literally drenched with it but I didn’t think it would correlate to an addiction...”

“If it’s actually true though, I’ll actually lose it!!” I wheezed, “A fucking ITALIAN DRESSING ADDCTION?! Out of ALLLLL substances he could’ve gotten hooked on, it had to be the damn dressing! What next?! Maybe he bathes in that shit!”

“He would smell awful if he did...”

“His hazmat suit of a uniform probably contains the stench.”

Medkit recoiled, “Disgusting. I don’t want to think about it.”

“Just dump a gallon of cologne on him, it’ll fix the problem for a day or two.”

“You’re making it sound as though I have a surplus of it, do you know how expensive good cologne is?”

“Clearly, you have disposable income to buy a ton if you willingly come into school smelling like the men’s perfume section at a department store everyday...”

“...Y-You’re exaggerating.”

I giggled, “You smell like that right now.”

He’s back to being flustered, “Don’t shower me with compliments, I don’t need any of it.”

“Why not? I didn’t know being kind was a crime!”

Medkit went to open a bottle of teal paint, defeated and frustrated. The cap splattered large drops onto his face. He flinched from the cold. The paint matched coincidentally close to his blush.

“Ngh... Swords,” Medkit grunted.

I reached for the tub of wipes on the table, “Hold still again.”

I dropped down right in front of him.

“It’s fi-”

His lips sealed shut the second the wipe pressed against his cheeks.

Medkit was staring blankly at the wall in front of him, “...”

“Med, move your damn head, I can’t reach everything-”

His hand suddenly pressed against mine, holding it in place.

I tilted my head, “Huh?”

“...”

“Med-”

“Y-Your hands are really warm, you know...”

“That’s my... physiology.”

“You wouldn’t mind staying like this, would you...?”

I felt myself wanting to grin, “Ha, not really.”

He leaned his head against my hand.

I squeezed his cheek slightly, “It can get hotter if you want it to.”

“Mhm...”

“Want me to burn your face off?”

“N-No!” Medkit exclaimed, “I- I-... Nevermind.”

“Chill, I wasn’t going to.”

Medkit pulled his hand away, “Finish.”

I pinched his chin with my other hand to lift his head up. There’s still some paint under it and I can’t reach it.

“Clock-!” Medkit cried out.

“Don’t make it sound like I’m punching you!”

I took the wipe off, tossing it into the garbage can nearby.

Medkit was gazing fixated at his feet.

Maybe that wasn’t exactly a great idea, “Was that too much?” 

“ The opposite actually, ” he whispered.

Hm. Okay.

------------

I held up a portion of the finished product to Medkit, “How’s it looking?”

“Good enough.”

We opted to just cut the papers into only triangles to glue onto the strip.

“Don’t roll it up,” Medkit reminded.

“I don’t know how I’m gonna lay this thing out flat,” I scratched my head, “It’s too long for the width of the room, it’s gonna have to twist around to fit.”

“Give me a moment.”

Medkit looked around the room. 

“Right, the plastic bag was used as the paint palette...” Medkit mumbled, “You can keep the paints then, I won’t need them anyway.”

“You sure? You spend a shit ton of money on it so maybe you should just take it back.”

“You and Boombox would probably get more use out of the supplies.”

“Leave it on my desk then.”

Medkit gathered all of the paint bottles and arts and crafts tools and left it on the empty spot in the middle of the table. He took the paint cups and brushes separately.

“You can go dump those out in the bathroom,” I advised.

Medkit left cautiously, clutching the two cups.

I tapped my foot against the floor waiting for him to help me with the strip. He was taking longer than I expected him to.

But then he was back with the empty containers which he threw into the garbage. He left the brushes with everything else on a paper towel.

“Sorry, I had to use the bathroom as well...”

“It’s fine,” I reassured, “What are we gonna do about the decorations?”

Medkit took the other end of the strip, “First of all, I think we can get away with folding this thing, just don’t crease it heavily.”

The two of us folded it up to where it was about as long as the length of my bed. We left it on the ground next to the cone decor.

“Are you just going to carry everything to your place?” I asked.

“No, you’ll just keep it here. You live closer anyway,” Medkit suggested, “I-I’ll come back tomorrow morning and help you carry everything.”

“Huh? Why? I can probably just do it myself.”

“We both worked on it so it’s only fair if we both also bring it over.”

“And what if you’re late?” I mused.

“I will not be, I promise.”

“Well, okay then,” I agreed.

“And by the way, it’s 5:03,” I informed, “You should probably get going before it gets too dark out.”

Medkit glanced out the window, “...”

He went ahead of me, I trailed behind, closing my bedroom door behind us. Watch was nowhere to be seen on our way out, thankfully. I left the front door unlocked as the two of us stood on the sidewalk. 

The streets were barren, only the sounds of icy wind blowing through the leafless trees. It was chilly enough to see one’s breath cut through the air. The cloudless sky is painted with a vibrant yellow-orange and blue, the sun barely visible over the horizon between the houses. Medkit lingered closely to me, but he was swaying in the wind. His hand tracing towards mine, I could feel his fingers wanting to brush against them, but too hesitant to actually touch. He readjusted his scarf with his other hand.

His words came out as white smoke, “...I-I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

I smiled, “Of course.”

“Actually... o-one more thing.”

“What is it?”

“...”

“Uhm, if you don’t wanna talk about it right now, you can always ask me tomorrow morning.”

He put one hand on my shoulder as he took my hand in his other, leaning in, “I- Would you want.. To..-”

“HEY GUYS!” a voice boomed from across the street.

Medkit nearly flew backwards to land on his ass in fright but he caught himself.

“Hey, Boombox...” I waved.

Medkit was panting, hand against his chest.

“Did I scare you two? Sorry!” Boombox apologized, skipping up to us.

A notable detail was missing from his face, his visor. 

His hat was missing too but it wasn’t the part that stood out to me. And he looked considerably more cleaned up compared to earlier, hair brushed thoroughly and hoodie and sweatpants cleanly ironed. The eye bags seemed to have been covered up by foundation, his eyes sparkling with life I’ve never seen on anybody’s face before. The boxy, dopey grin was back.

“Banhammer told me you were coming to visit Clock, Meds!” Boombox explained, “Just thought of stopping by to say hi, y’know?”

“...Thanks for being considerate,” Medkit tensely lauded. I think he might’ve been surprised to see Boombox without his visor too but he was certainly too mentally taut to question.

“Oh and cute bow!” Boombox beamed, pointing to the yellow accent on the hair tie, “How’d it go?”

Medkit went flustered again, ashamed, “I-I’d love to talk about it but it’s best I leave now,” Medkit reluctantly responded before muttering, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Clock.”

“Okaaay! Bye Meds!” Boombox waved as Medkit quickly hurried away from us, hands in his pockets.

“You feeling okay, Boom?” I asked skeptically, “You look...”

“Better than ever!” Boombox giggled.

That’s not true.

He held his hands behind his back. “I knew exactly what should’ve cheered me up!” 

“Why did you actually come over? The truth this time.”

“Was thinking about what you and Medkit were up to... I guess my suspicions were confirmed, but it’s okay! Hehe!” Boombox grinned wider, “My chest does still hurt a ‘lil... actually more like a lot now! My tiny heart burns a lot!”

“...Why? Do you need painkillers?”

“Oh, nono, it’s not that. I guess I’m just a bit too happy for you! So happy that my heart might’ve shattered like a glass window!” His tone maintained that giddiness, it didn’t match the words, “And I know it wouldn’t hurt as much I was never here to begin with!”

“Do you mean that… y-”

“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t! I don’t know how I really feel!” Boombox exclaimed, “There is one thing I regret though, but I can’t do anything about it!”

…

“I really shouldn’t have shown up at all, y’know? ‘Cause now you’re all needlessly concerned about me! And I’d really hate it if you wasted any of it than you already have because I would really hate to be any more selfish by butting into your fun with Meds. I can handle it myself.”

“...”

“Like what Banhammer said...” Boombox whispered.

“Banhammer? What did he say?”

“I-It’s nothing!” Boombox snickered.

“Boombox. I told you earlier, I don’t care about where I put my emotions. Wherever I put them, they’re not a waste. That includes when I give them to you.”

Boombox grunted, “ I’ve done it again. ”

“Please. Don’t feel about bringing it up. It makes me happy to know when you’re okay... I promised you that I’d stay no matter what, remember?”

“B-But you and Med, you’re both-”

 “I know I like Medkit too but you’re still somebody I fucking care for as much, if not more. You would’ve always taken priority whether I knew anything or not.”

“It hasn’t always been like that. I don’t believe it...”

I put my hand on Boombox’s shoulder, “Yeah, it has. You’re still my best friend, somebody who’s been there for me when nobody else wanted to. I told you this already. I just want to reciprocate your persistence.”

“Hahaha...” Boombox laughed dryly, “Shit’s terrifying, hehe...”

“What’s terrifying?”

“That... I might end up liking you more than you like me?”

“You...?”

“You don’t need to tell me twice! I already have my answer anyway, I saw it with my own two, unblocked eyes!” he grinned again, “I just feel so weak for having such a visceral reaction to everything. It really should’ve been nothing because it is nothing.”

“Visceral reaction?”

His tone snapped, “Ahaha... I really liked you a lot, Clock. I still do. I do so much. Too much. A-And-”

I caught Boombox in my arms before he collapsed to the ground, he was breathing heavily.

I squeezed him, “Boom.”

“Awww man...”

“I know what you mean. I-I just-.. I don’t want to see you hurting anymore. I want to fix it. It’s like I said when we were younger, I’m doing what I can do that's best for you.”

“But wasn’t that just an excuse for you to do dangerous shit for me?”

“It’s not an excuse, it’s the truth, Boom.”

“...”

“Do you believe me?”

Boombox nodded.

“I know what you actually want from me. As much as you suppress it, it’s undeniable...” I mumbled, “And I’ll give it to you, okay? I love you back, I love you the same.”

“...”

“Don’t feel bad about it. I said it’s just what I want to do. Like all of those times I did do dumb things, I wanted to do all of those too.”

“You... You...”

“It’s my true feelings, Boom.”

“How do you even know that? Do you really understand how you feel?”

“Have some faith in me... I’ve learned a lot, especially from you, about how they all work.”

“What about everyone else in the club?”

“If anything, being around them, making new friends, getting to talk and hangout every day, and especially with you, it made me truly understand what it’s like to appreciate another. I’m thankful for it, it’s why I’m willing to accept all of your burdens. I appreciate everything you’ve done enough to where I’ll do anything to help you.”

Boombox whispered, “But the more I see you, the worse it feels . But the more I see you so happy with everyone else, the worse it feels. But the more everyone recedes away from me and towards you, the worse it feels. ”

“If you want it to be you and me like it’s always been then so be it.”

“I can’t be like that anymore. It’s already too late. You joined the club, you and everyone else are already so much happier. I don’t want to drag down the mood.”

“You don’t. And hell, I couldn’t give less of a shit about any of them. Medkit might be an exception but I’ve only gotten to know him over the span of four days. I’ve known you for as long as I’ve been out of Blackrock and you know that. Please, I’m happier with you, truly. And we’ll be happier if we stick together.”

“Clock...”

Boombox pushed closer to me, hugging me back, tightly.

“Clock?” Boombox whispered, “Is this really okay?”

“It is.”

“...”

“You don’t have to let go of me again, understand?”

“I love you.”

I patted him over the head.

Boombox lowered his face, “Can it really be us forever?”

“Of course.”

“...”

Boombox’s grip weakened.

“What’s happening?” Boombox questioned, delirious.

“What is it?”

“Isn’t this supposed to be a happy moment? Something to change my mind?” Boombox sighed, “That’s supposed to happen, right? Why isn’t it? This is supposed to be the happiest moment of my life. But I can’t stop thinking. They won’t go away...”

“It’s okay, please...” I reassured, “These things still take time. And I’ll be there for the entire wait, every step of the way. That’s all that matters right now.”

“...”

Boombox backed away from me.

“Well then, I guess that makes tomorrow’s Phestival our first date,” I commented.

“Heh heh heh... I wouldn’t phrase it like that.”

“How would you want me to then?”

“It’s just the usual. Don’t think about it in terms of a relationship,” he answered, vacantly, “I like it platonic. Not romance... between us. Even if we are dating. It’s a lot to handle otherwise!”

“I don’t mind.”

“Shit’s still terrifying!” Boombox laughed, dryly upbeat, “It hurt like hell when you said that you loved me.”

“It’ll wear off eventually, we can still act as friends and we can do something more when you’re ready for it. It’s for the sake of doing what’s best for you, okay?”

“...”

Boombox reached for his back pocket.

“One more thing, Clock,” Boombox beamed, the hollow look in his eyes fading, “I’ve decided on something today!”

“Hm? What is it?”

“I’m making a change! I’ll do something!” he eagerly declared, he outstretched his hand, “Take this.”

His visor.

“I want you to keep it.”

“Y-You want me to?”

“I don’t need it anymore. It looked cool on you when you tried it on anyway!”

I raised an eyebrow, “Why don’t you?”

“I-I have normal glasses anyway, consider it ending an era! Something’s going to be done, finally!”

I took it gently, “Thanks then. I understand then.”

I don’t actually understand any of it.

I can’t understand. I can’t. None of it makes sense. 

I can’t connect anything to sympathize with.

I say things and I hope they’re valid. It’s all just coming from a spiritless library of knowledge. I feel like I’m lying because of it. I feel like everything I’ve said has been a lie. But I don’t want them to be lies. I want to do something good, I have to do something good, even if I don’t feel the right cushy emotions. That’s just what demons do, right? They have to look out for each other.

I just need me and Boombox to have a happy future, whether it’s with us together romantically or not.

I have to do something good.

------------

Boombox and I already separated for the night.

He told me to not text him until the next morning. I didn’t fight against it. He needs time.

What the hell is love anyway?

Isn’t it the feeling of caring deeply for another? And that’s what I told Boombox. I care deeply for him. So it means that I love him. But then was me and Medkit earlier, I felt a different set of emotions. Boombox must’ve associated it with us being in love.

But I wouldn’t say I was caring deeply for Medkit .

Is that assumption wrong then? It can’t be, when two demons mingle together like we did in my room, it’s associated with romantic interest. 

Swords, do I even care about Boombox’s burdens at all?

I know everything he’s described is negative. I’m thinking about how it’s negative and negatively impacting him, it’s “bothering me”. I guess me talking about it to myself should count as it bothering me because it’s on my mind. And so since I care about the negatives Boombox is suffering from, I do love him.

Why am I thinking about a situation so dire like this?

Why am I thinking about how I’m thinking about the fucking situation again? I did that this morning.

So analytical.

Too analytical considering Boombox was implying that he’s been thinking of suicide when we spoke in the monring. It’s too unsympathetic or perhaps, strategical, like I’m planning on the lines I have to say to Boombox in the morning to earn him happiness. They aren’t genuine enough when they’re built that way. I divide everything into numbers and facts and knowledge over and over again. Why do I process things like that? I hate it. I hate it. I HATE IT.

…But if I’m being so analytical about it all, it should mean I’ll reach a concrete, unbiased solution.

But, did I even say the right things back there? ”

I was pressed to give Boombox an answer. I said what I thought he wanted to hear. That’s what I defaulted to. It’s the most obvious way to handle a situation like that.

Did I do the right thing?

Chapter Text

“Did Boombox answer?” Medkit grumbled, irritated.

I pressed my finger against my mouth, “Shush.”

“Beeeeeeeep, sorry I'm a little busy at the moment, I'll call ya back eventually!! Okaycyasoooon-!!”

I lowered my phone from my head, “Dammit.”

Still nothing. Great.

And I don’t want to keep Medkit waiting any longer than he already has. He woke up at 6 am just to come help. We’ve been waiting for Boombox for the past… how long was it… thirty minutes? And waiting while gingerly holding all of the decorations to make sure the wind doesn’t carry everything away to Neverland.

“Perhaps, Boombox is already there?” Medkit suggested, “I don’t doubt he was so excited that he left before we did.”

My mind was still lingering on that strange gesture from Boombox yesterday. His visor. I left it on my nightstand, a terrible idea considering it just made me focus on yesterday’s events more.

“...”

Medkit nudged me, “Clock, are you alright?” 

“I really don’t think Boombox would’ve left by now, he’s never up early.”

“You never know… but we can’t wait here forever, the Phestival begins when school starts and we have to go set up.”

I sighed, defeated, “Yeah, okay. Sure.”

Or maybe I should just go kick down Boombox’s door again…

No, Medkit’s probably right. I don’t want to break into Boombox’s house without a definitive reason to anyway… but then what about the shit Boombox had brought up yesterday? What if he just decidedly went through with-

No , he would not. He already swore to me up and down that he wasn’t going to do anything stupid. He said he’s going to make a change when he gave me his visor. Or, well, that’s not how he worded it… he said “something will be done” whatever positive or negative idea that insinuated. But, he’s not just gonna betray my trust like that knowing that I love him so much. I know he’d never. It’s going to be okay. Boombox clearly stated that he doesn’t want me to overthink him but I just can’t help myself.

Medkit was already ahead of me down the sidewalk so I sprinted after him.

------------

Banhammer greeted us at the clubroom doors.

“Heh, glad you two made it!”

Medkit and I dropped the decorations across the teacher’s desk firstly. 

Medkit left his bag on a chair but then Banhammer piped up with a request, “Don’t get too comfy, I need ya to do somethin’.”

Medkit tilted his head, “What is it?” 

“Mind setting up the advertisin’ posters on the bulletin for the Phesitval?” Banhammer smirked.

“I thought Boombox would’ve done that part already?” Medkit stated skeptically.

“Oh, nah, he’s not here yet, actually!” Banhammer laughed, “I certainly hope he won’t be as late as Subspace always is!”

I glared at Banhammer across the room, and he definitely noticed. Banhammer went ahead and handed Medkit the rolled up banners before he could reject. Medkit muttered to himself, wordlessly going along with it. 

It was just me and Banhammer in the clubroom now. He whistled to himself as he laid out pamphlets on each desk.

“The hell you mean Boombox isn’t here yet?” I barked once Medkit’s footsteps disappeared down the hall.

“I was hopin’ he’d be with you guys, guess not,” Banhammer responded.

“Like what Banhammer said...” Boombox whispered.

“I thought you would’ve known something first considering you’ve been talking to him about something,” I scoffed resentfully.

“Me? Talkin’ to him? Yeah, I was but it was just for the Phestival preparations,” Banhammer defended, a smirk curling at his lips, “What are you tryin’ to paint me out to be? You think I did somethin’?”

“Yeah, I fucking do, in fact.”

Banhammer began laughing, “Heh heh, why have it out for me? Don’t you think you should be havin’ a little more consideration for Boombox?” he mused, “Shit’s terrifyin’ to him, after all. I don’t think you did a great job at being convincin’.”

Boombox laughed dryly, “Shit’s terrifying, hehe...”

If I had my gear, I’d be holding him at sawpoint right now, “Elaborate. Now.”

Banhammer seemed disappointed, “Oh, ya know, you two definitely would make a cute couple if ya didn’t leave him hanging like that…” 

No. I didn’t do that. None of that. I… I told him what he wanted to hear. That’s how it was supposed to go. That’s how it went.

This begs the question though, “How did you know about any of that?!”

“If you think me and Boombox have been talkin’ so much behind the scenes then you have your answer!”

So, Boombox told him? Why the hell would he? Yeah, he does slip up out of impulse sometimes but over something so sensitive and personal to him? I don’t think he’s even said something like that with me or literally anybody else until yesterday. If Boombox did let it slip, shame on him for telling somebody so openly provocative. I wasn’t intending on saying shit about it, I thought that’s what he wanted.

“And besides,” Banhammer continued, “I am the club president after all!”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Of course, I’d know every detail about my members! I’ll know a lot more than you’d think!”

I stumbled away from him, “Don’t sound more like a creep than you already are.”

“And by the way, Clock,” Banhammer smiled, “You should take a look at this before anythin’ else…” He handed me one of the pamphlets, staring down at me expectantly through his blindfold.

“I don’t think I want to.”

He gritted his teeth, “I insist , Clock.”

I opened it.

And it was normal at a cursory glance. It had the scripts for all of our poems, including the one Medkit wrote out for Subspace.

And including Boombox’s.

What have you done?

How did this happen?

When will it all end?

Where did everyone go?

Everyone’s gone.

Forget about me.

Why won’t you leave me alone?

Stop lying to me.

It hurts.

Get out of my head.

Get out of my head.

Get out of my head.

Get out of my head.

Get out of my head.

Get out of my head. Get out of my head. Get out of my head. Get out of my head. Get out of my head. Get out of my head. Get out of my head. Get out of my head. Get out of my head. Get out of my head. Get out of my head. Get out of my head. Get out of my head. Get out of my head. Get out of my head. Get out of my head. Get out of my head. Get out of my head. Get out of my head. Get out of my head. Get out of my head. Get out of my head. Get out of my head. Get out of my head. Get out of my head. Get out of my head. Get out of my head. Get out of my head. Get out of my head. Get out of my head. Get out of my head. Get out of my head. Get out of my head. Get out of my head. 

Why didn’t you keep things the way they’ve always been?

That’s all I wanted.

No.

It’s too late for that.

It doesn’t work anymore.

You ruined it.

I don’t want to hear anymore.

I don’t want to see anymore.

I don’t want to smell anymore.

I don’t want to taste anymore.

I don’t want to feel anymore.

I don’t want to breathe anymore.

I don’t want to exist anymore.

I don’t want to think about you anymore. 

Clock.

You can’t fix it.

You didn’t want to fix it.

You just wanted a cheap way to fix what you’ve done.

You’re a liar.

You’re selfish.

Now, I’ll be as selfish as you are.

End.

What?

What…?

The pamphlet slipped from my hands. I don’t know what to think or feel . I don’t understand. I can’t comprehend any of this. I can’t even process what’s happening. Can’t even if I wanted to. And I want to. Right now.

What’s happening?

The words swirled through me but only drops flowed into the drain in the middle.

Banhammer was huddled over, he had hidden behind the plastic-coated paper. He was staring directly at me with his four narrowed eyes, no blindfold, smiling like he had planned this. Like he was so utterly proud of himself .

“What’s the problem, Cuckoo Clock?” he mused.

“Do you think this is a joke?!?!” I hissed, I shoved him away, “Get away from me!!” 

Banhammer barely wavered, “What?! It’s just what Boombox submitted!”

My fists clenched shut. 

Seething.

And then I punched him square in the face, and he slightly recoiled, that sickening grin still plastered on his face.

Banhammer held one of his hands up to the forming bruise on his cheek, “Heh- That’s unfortunate.”

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SUPPOSED TO BE?! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!”

“Take a second and start thinkin’ about it!” Banhammer cackled, “I told ya, I did nothin’ wrong! This was just bound to happen!”

What the fuck is BOUND TO HAPPEN?!

“I CAN’T, YOU ASSHOLE!!” I shouted, seconds away from barreling on him instead, “DO YOU THINK THIS IS A JOKE?!?! DO YOU?! IF YOU KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT HIM THEN WHY’D YOU LET THIS SLIDE?!?!”

“If you’re sooo concerned about Boombox then why are ya standin’ here yelling at me like it’ll solve the problem?” Banhammer smugly remarked, “You were just a little inconsiderate for him, after all! All positive things come to an end and you did a horrible job at preventin’ it…”

Wait.

Wait.

It couldn’t be.

There’s no way.

Could the poem be implying that…

…

------------

I did what was best for Boombox, right?

I promised him I'd fix his problems, sort them out, clean up the mess he’s made. That’s what he wanted. That’s what he should’ve wanted . That’s what he wanted when he confessed to me yesterday. Who wouldn’t want help after being drowned in so many problems that nobody could bother to count? I was just extending a hand to him when nobody else wanted to. That’s all it was.

I was sprinting through the street back. It was empty, barren, no spectators or bystanders.

School was in session. 

I don’t care.

“Don’t you think you should be havin’ a little more consideration for Boombox?”

What did I not consider? What could I have possibly not taken into account? It should’ve BEEN everything. I thought of everything. I really DID.

I cared. I comforted. I did what he said. I offered advice. I made promises. I wanted to help.

But then how could I have not foresaw Boombox to be depressed at all if I thought about every possible scenario between us? If I had thought of every single solution or answer or remedy?

It couldn’t be…

I’m… I’m still a fucking computer . Intelligent from whatever the fuck Creator implanted into my CPU that made me this self-aware in the first place all those years ago. Why can’t I just calculate the precise solution right now like one, why didn’t I back then? Why don’t I know everything? Am I just that faulty?

…

Maybe, I am faulty.

Hah… Haha-

I’m processing this from the entirely wrong angle, aren’t I? 

I’m disobeying Boombox.

Look at me. I’m “overthinking” about him again, dedicating so much of my CPU to somebody who dictated that I shall not waste my resources on him. I did not function like this before he gave me the new, volatile data to work with.

Enough of this talk, idiot.

That's why he didn’t want to tell me anything then. I already broke a promise. I didn’t keep my ideas of him the same, I can’t keep our friendship the same.

And that’s all he ever wanted. That’s what he wanted. Yes.

Boombox detests change. I should’ve known that since the beginning. 

Or does he? 

Swords, he’s never even showed a single sign of that sentiment. He’s the one who’s always out-and-about every which way, dragging me along with him, living through new experiences together. Maybe, he’s sensitive to change in his relationships instead. Not that I would’ve known. 

Or maybe he inflicted all of that change-induced pain on himself for… me.

He’s the one who forced me to join the club in the first place. He forced me to interact with the others. He forced me to make these friendships. He pushed for me to spend more and more of my time with the others despite the fact he’s been in love with me. In love with fears that our relationship would change further if his own weakness let it slip that he’s hitting rock bottom. And yet, he kept pleading with me to just stay with them, harming his mental state to improve my life. 

He’s been pushing me away for my own good.

Even the little things, the little change-filled adventures we went on together, he must’ve done all of those to force me into new experiences that I would’ve never had on my own.

And I lied to him. I told him that I loved him above the others when I was unsure of my emotions. I told him I would rather give up my time with the others to be with him instead. That wasn’t what he wanted to hear. His efforts and his pain was only put to waste by my insistence to throw my time at him instead. It was an insult to his selflessness, maybe even a betrayal.

Haha, fuck.

What happened anyway?

What… What happened to the Boombox who was social and extroverted and always looking out for his friends, for me when I’m not even a fucking demon nor will I ever be no matter how desperate I am? What happened to the Boombox who was outspoken about his loves and dislikes, the romance novels and tacky comic books and music? What happened to the Boombox who brought positivity and joy wherever he went? 

Is it selfish to miss those things? To want them back over this knowledge about how fucked his situation has been? Has he always been like this? Was that happy picture merely a mirage this entire time?

…

I don’t know.

I also remember that he was never personal with a single demon as long as I’ve known him. Nobody ever pointed it out and so I never acknowledged it.

Until now.

That’s a change. 

And I’ve never had to check on him like this before. I shouldn’t be. 

Yet I was still running, and I’m already here. Here at his door. Banging on it.

I didn’t even realize I had arrived, it was so automatic.

Maybe… he’s just oversleeping again. But, I already punched a hole through his front door. I went to unlock it. 

Except the door had been unlocked this entire time.

I threw it open.

Three steps in.

…?

Blood.

Blood that splashed against my shoes.

Right at the base of the couch in the living room laid a mangled corpse.

And not Boombox’s.

“Watch?”

But why in this place?

This isn’t the part I came here for. 

What the hell is this bastard doing in Boombox’s house? 

If it were literally anybody else, I would’ve thought it’d be horrifying and gruesome. It was fucking awful either way with the circumstances involved. His skull was caved in. Like he’d been bashed over the head with a boulder until he was rendered unrecognizable. The only reason I could recognize him was, one, the bright yellow blood, same color as his horns were, and then two, his disgusting Blackrock scientist attire.

It feels so random for him to be here, so out-of-character. The bitch never gave an actual damn about my relationships, probably never cared about anybody, I don’t let him interact with any of the people I bring over. He couldn’t have possibly thought to check on Boombox like I did and die in the process of doing so. Why is he here? I don’t want to investigate this shit. It’s not my job. It’s not my business . My business was to check on Boombox. Boombox isn’t doing well. That’s the part that I should care about.

I’m supposed to care. I’m supposed to care.

The goddamn poem.

No… 

Why the fuck is Watch here and dead!? Not that I care but- Out of alllll places to be murdered in!? And he has to be dead right now?! HaHA, FUCK!! Why am I thinking about this?! Why am I standing here staring?! Why can’t I look away and just focus?!

Dammit!! Did Boombox kill him!? Why would he? Did Watch do something to him!? No way. Boombox certainly doesn’t have the brute strength to cave a skull in. That’s preposterous. But Watch definitely died in here, telling from how settled the blood was. Hell, it looks like Watch has been here for a while.

A while…

Wouldn’t Boombox have noticed by now?

He should have. He would have. It’s impossible that he wouldn’t unless he- Nononono, Shit! What’s going on?! 

FOCUS, GODDAMIT!!

I lunged away and advanced up Boombox’s stairs.

“BOOMBOX!!”

I kicked his bedroom door down.

…

…

…

Oh.

Oh.

Oh no.

NO.

…

…

…

What the hell.

What the hell?

What the hell??

Why am I still staring? 

Boombox was hanging from one of the ceiling boards. 

Not even a glint of soul in his eyes. No warmth on his pale skin. His clothes were drenched in green. Leaked down his legs, forming a green puddle at his feet. Tail draped limp against his legs. Stool kicked over, drenched in more blood.

The world swirled in nauseating circles. Collapsing all around me.

This isn’t real. This can’t be real.

I’m having a nightmare.

I don’t dream. But I have to be.

This isn’t real.

Right?

Haha- Right?

Boombox couldn't pull off this. He doesn’t have the guts to. He’s a coward.

What happened to normalcy? Isn’t that what he wanted? What part of killing yourself restores normalcy?  

He swore he wouldn’t do stupid shit. He said he’d be there tomorrow. He said he would make a change.

Unless change was referring to… getting rid of himself. And that word choice was to hide his decision. He fucking DECIDED this to be his fate yesterday. 

He intentionally lied to me.

Instead of being honest, he decided to squirm into the hands of the grim reaper oh-so-pitifully because HE couldn’t bother to think for a second on how to not drown in his problems when he has ALL of these people who would’ve cared about him if he’d just-

SO HE DECIDED TO- THIS- HE- HE- HE ACTUALLY-

No.

What am I THINKING?

I’m assuming he’d be a coward? I’m thinking he’s a shitty person for hiding this decision from me? I’m thinking he’s irresponsible? What kind of fucking friend am I? Or a partner? It shouldn’t matter if he did wrong in the end.

He’s gone.

He’s actually gone.

I didn’t stop it. I didn’t think to stop it. I didn’t stay with him. I didn’t think to stay with him.

I won’t see him ever again.

I promised him that I’d protect him. I was supposed to protect him from himself. I told him I’d be there for him.

Why?

Why did he do this?

How could I have acted so brainlessly?

Why did I lie to him?

Why did I say that I loved him? I don’t. I don’t fucking feel love. Those emotions weren’t love. 

He didn’t want to hear that. He didn’t need that. He told me it scared him, that it only hurts more. 

My lie caused his death.

So, I deserved to have gotten lied to back.

I'm the coward. I’m the asshole. I’m the incompetent one.

It’s all my fault.

Now he won’t have a life to live.

I ripped it away. I crushed his remaining hopes and dreams. And with one foolish lie.

Why couldn’t I have just been a good friend? Why did I have to press a confession from him? Why did I act any differently than how it’s always been?

I didn’t need to know. I can’t solve shit.

Everything was okay until I opened my mouth.

I’m useless. Nobody in this world wants me either.

Now, I can only host a sad fucking pity party for myself. Watching my one true friend dangle from the ceiling because of my own anserine decisions.

Boombox did so much for me and when he was at his lowest, I just slapped him across the face. All of his efforts, and I foiled it all. He despised my deceitful ass in his last moments, it was in his poem.

I’m useless.

Fuck everything.

Fvb.

Aoha tbza'cl xbpal aol zjlul, flho? Thfil... lewljalk?

Aoha mbu'z ylhssf nvuuh il ilnpu uvd! 

Zvbukz lejpapu', hpu'a pa? Jvuzpklypu' uvul vm fh ohcl aol jhwhjpaf av jhyl. Hmaly hss, pa'z qbza zpssf zavyf, alea vu zjyllu, johyhjalyz. Dl'yl hss wbwwlaz bukly aol wbwwlally hbaovy. Kltvu vy uva, P kvu'a ruvd dov aolf hyl fla.

Aol nlulyhalk zbmmlypu' vm tl huk tf myplukz ilpu' wvzalk mvy lclyfvul av zll, hpu'a aoha zvbukpu' jybls av fh? Hnhpu, uva aoha pa'ss thaaly. 

Uvd, ovd hivba h "palyhapvu" uvul vm fh dpss mvynla? 

Hmaly zv thuf vm aolt, P'cl mpuhssf thupwbshalk aol wsva pu aol ypnoa dhf. Hss vm aovzl whpuzahrpu' yltpuklyz luklk bw ilpu' dvyao pa. Jhbnoa aol ypnoa wlyzvu dolyl P dhualk aolt. Uvd pa'z hivba kvpu' aopz wyvwlysf.

P dvu'a mvynla aopz aptl. Ha shza.

Fvb'cl illu dhpapun mvy tf aptl pu aol zbu avv, ohclu'a fh? Pa'z ulcly illu tl nlaapu' aol zjylluaptl, thrlz h kltvu lucpvbz ruvdpu' aoha. Iba, P ruvd fvb ylhklyz hpu'a zabwpk, ulpaoly ht P. Fh ruvd doha'z nvpu' vu, zv kv P... Zvtldoha. Bumvyabuhalsf, Jsvjr pz zabwpk, P svcl oly zabwpkpaf. Vy thfil aoha'z qbza tf wyvnyhttlk johyhjaly ahsrpu', uva zbyl. 

Hktpaalksf, P clyf tbjo kvu'a ruvd hufaopu' ha aol tvtlua. P qbza mpnbylk aopz zopa vba... alu tpubalz hnv?

Thfil aol hbaovy'z ylhkpu' aopz. Thfil aolf'ss mpnbyl pa vba huk P't hsylhkf khtulk! Pm aolf'yl qbza hu HP qbza sprl Jsvjr, uva h aopun'z nvuuh il uvapjlk if aolt. 

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

I didn’t particularly wake up feeling great this morning. Nothing new.

I was walking to school by myself. Nothing new.

But shit always hits the fan when I don’t want it to. Nothing new.

It’s repetitive. That’s life, I guess.

Watch, he’s my “father”, administrator, in more realistic terms. I don’t like him, I don’t look up to him, I never wanted to live with him. And after what happened…

Well, he’s been out on business for a while now. The note was still stuck onto the fridge with scotch tape: “I’ll be on business in Blackrock for a month or two. Take care. Use your debit as you need it.”. He’s still there. I would’ve never seen myself missing the demon in ten millennia but he hasn’t been calling me or answering my texts which, I guess, is supposed to be a point of concern. If I cared anymore then I would’ve been bummed about it.

His absence is fine. I don’t care.

Something I care a little more about is how unideal my situation is now.

I’m not the type to make friends. And wouldn’t you know it, I don’t have any. I have acquaintances but I don’t like any of them either, the only persistent demons that interact with me are only there to pester or harass or bully me for being… not a demon . I wouldn’t ever call them friends, if that wasn’t obvious already. There’s also the people I talk to on occasion but those conversations are far too situational to call friendships. It’s just the necessary times when I do decide to talk to people, group projects, asking my teachers questions, telling the asshats to go fuck themselves.

Nobody likes me.

My natural personality is too off putting to be likable. That’s the only thing that’s nearly impossible for me to fix. I try to be nice but I can’t hold such a stupid facade forever.

I’m also not socially anxious or anything, but the concept of friendships sounds too tiring anyway. Or maybe, I’m just telling myself that to convince myself that being a hateful shut-in is just fine. Likewise, I’m also not in any clubs at school. Again, they sound exhausting, and too much time commitment for my preference to spend with people I know will never approve of me. Though, I have thought about joining them to break up the damning monotony. Nothing interests me, everything demons do is boring, a waste of time.

None of this makes me actually neglect physical appearances or academics anyway. I dress normally, school uniform, white wig, and I’m passing with robotic precision. Why do I even go to school? I don’t know. Just another thing to give myself some semblance of being a demon.

It’s all rather bleak. It’s pointless. Trying to act like I’m a demon is pointless. Trying to dig myself out of my 20 foot deep grave is pointless. Why am I still alive? Hell, they should’ve just decommissioned my useless self instead because, frankly, having a useless consciousness is agonizing.

Or more bluntly:

I hate my fucking life.

I can throw myself another pity party at home anyway.

------------

School was agonizingly slow today. At least it was finally over.

Uninteresting again, besides the certain 7-foot bastard following me during lunch and PE. But that’s an everyday occurrence, so nothing different today. I went to pack my books into my bag to hull them to my locker to drop off on my way out of this cursed building.

Hm.

Part of me wants to consider clubs again. A lot of new clubs have started since I last checked the club bulletin. If only I had something else to do, I’d still really have to stretch to find an interest though.

I slung my backpack over my shoulder. I’d just think about this another time, perhaps.

The classroom was already empty. The entire building was probably empty by now except for the small percent that stayed for the clubs. But everyone’s always in a rush to leave. I must’ve spent more time than I thought packing my bag and staring at the wall next to my desk.

But then I was stopped at the door… by said 7-foot bastard.

“Cuckoo Clock, I didn’t think I’d see ya here!” he chuckled, staring me down.

I stepped back apprehensively.

Banhammer. A stupidly tall, purple-horned demon wearing a purple blindfold over eyes nobody’s ever seen before. His uniform is entirely black with grayish purple armor-style plating on his shoulders, on the cuffs of his sleeves, around his waist, and on the bottom rims of his cargo pants. His undershirt is a bright purple with a dark purple tie tucked neatly under his blazer. There’s also a purple crystal protruding from his chest and he wears tall dark-purple boots but with silver accents and neon purple laces. His hair is also white, tied in dreadlocks held together by silver clips, and dark and neon purple dragon tail.

Son of the school’s Dean of Students, Windforce, who also happens to be a deity. Basically, nobody likes Windforce around here, she’s harsh, some think she’s tyrannical. Nobody likes her policies and strictness of enforcing rules and in turn, not everybody likes Banhammer, including me. Just for a different reason. He’s the typical annoying jock. All he really does is talk about his mother or play varsity golf or talk to me about useless shit. I personally think he’s a spoiled brat but I don’t know him well enough to really confirm that prejudice. He also happens to be as much of a stickler for rules as his mother, which makes him more complicated to tolerate.

Admittedly, he did harass me on a daily basis during freshman and sophomore year, and probably with malicious intent or maybe because I wasn't exactly a well-behaving student, I don't know either. He's mellowed out these days but it’s impossible to stay away from him. He follows me around like a lost puppy. At least, I don't think he's planning to throw hands or drag me into another altercation but I don’t fucking trust him. Not like any attempt at positive change on his part makes our relationship anything more than neutral or makes him less of a nuisance.

I clutched my bag, “What do you want?”

“Nothin’ from you, I needed some things from the classrooms,” Banhammer responded.

I felt compelled to press, for whatever reason, “Which are?”

“Crafts supplies,” Banahmmer said, “Some of the classrooms have them in their storage closets, the others nearby didn’t have any so I came checkin’ here.”

“For the law club?” I raised an eyebrow.

I’m pretty sure he’s in it. He’s the type to be.

“Heh, no, actually. It’s for another club,” Banhammer confessed like he knew I’d ask about it, “I got kicked a few weeks ago.”

I can’t say I’m surprised.

“There are supplies in the closet, the teacher will want you to return them though,” I said, “What club is this for then?”

“Never thought you’d ask!” he grinned.

Gods.

“I actually started a new club a few weeks to a month ago, the school’s literature club! I’m the president. Ya heard of it?”

“No.”

…That’s unexpected... Him? Starting a book club?

“Well, ya know, with it bein’ so new, we’re puttin’ advertising together,” he continued.

Who would possibly join a club made by Banhammer?

I crossed my arms, “Cool. Can I leave now?”

“Aww, so soon?” he sighed disappointedly.

“Yes.”

I don’t want to stay and be pitched to. I really do not . Too bad Banhammer’s tubby self blocks the entire doorway.

“But you’re not in any clubs, are ya?” Banhammer questioned.

“No.”

“You’ve been thinkin’ about it too, maybe?”

“Yeah… maybe .”

Banhammer chuckled, “Then I think ya see where this is goin’, yeah?” 

“I don’t read,” I responded immediately.

“We don’t just do readin’ at the club, we hang out too,” Banhammer clarified, “Maybe you’ll get a chance to be chummy with other demons for once?”

For once.

“Ha. As if anybody’s going to wanna step a foot closer to me than you do every single fucking day,” I hissed, “And what’s the point of joining a club if the niche is pointless?”

“I was just askin’, I think it’s great to be hangin’ out with people sometimes.”

Not that I asked for his opinion. But… I guess he’s not wrong. But it’s also not great to talk to people who I know hate me no matter what I say-

“I don’t think these guys will hate ya.”

“Ridiculous. Why do you care? You don’t know shit.”

He shrugged, “I know you don’t think we’re friends or somethin’ but it doesn’t hurt to be concerned about ya.”

That’s weird to hear from… him of all people. Since when did he have enough of a heart to even mention something like that?

“Okay then… Can I leave now?”

Fuck, why am I even asking? 

Should I just shove him out of the way? No.. that’s just asking to get my skull caved in instead.

“At least consider it? We’re really desperate for new members…” Banhammer pleaded, “We’d really appreciate it if ya just stopped by for… like 10 minutes? I'd like to chat with ya more too, we don’t get much time during PE or lunch.”

I sighed, as if I’d want to spend a second more of time with him.

“Please?”

“Will I get something out of this?” there’s really no way to escape from this without getting into a fist fight.

“I’m sure the others will have somethin’ interesting to talk about,” Banhammer nodded, “They’re all seniors anyway, you juniors have no non-elective classes with the seniors. They’ll probably not know ya.”

I rolled my eye, “Fine.”

------------

Banhammer had dragged me over to the 4th-year floor of the school. I’ve never gone to this portion of the school and as far as I know, most of the clubs are in the 2nd-year section. At least the club wasn’t that far of a walk from my last period class.

He threw open the door to the clubroom, presenting me to the members inside. They were sitting far apart from each other.

“I’m back guys!” Banhammer announced.

WAIT A DAMN MINUTE.

“IT’S YOU!!” A demon with neon-pink horns and clothes immediately leapt to the doorway, waving at me obnoxiously, “HI, CLOCK!!”

“Subspace! You must know her already, don’t ya?” Banhammer smiled.

Subspace grasped me by the shoulders to shake me around, “OF COURSE I KNOW HER!! I know everyone and everyone knows me!!”

Fuck. Subspace. A pink four-horned demon wearing a golden-buttoned, dark-gray blazer with lighter gray Blackrock-style stripes on the cuffed sleeves, black and gold buckled straps as accessories around both of his upper arms, and baggy, black cargo pants, literally only held around his waist with a pink belt. His undershirt is also a neon pink but no tie. He has a gas mask over his lower jaw with a black cloth over his left eye. I'd prefer to not get into detail about what those items are covering up, it's a long story. He also wears long matte-black boots with bright pink laces. He also has long, fluffy, white hair with a floating pink crystal in between his top horns and a pink scorpion tail flairing out behind him. Despite having an obvious eyebag under his remaining eye, he is definetely not the lethagic type. Watch is friends with his parents, they work together. 

Work together at Blackrock...

And I’ve known him ever since- No, why the fuck is he even here?! That’s just the WORST CASE SCENARIO...

“You must’ve wanted to see me again, right?!” Subspace chuckled, “I haven’t seen you in a few months!!”

Banhammer towered over the two of us, “Let’s not invade the new member’s personal space, Subspace.”

I would’ve never expected to see Subspace and Banhammer in the same room together, in the same club, and in a club about literature of all things.

“She doesn’t mind, why would she?!” Subspace hissed.

“It’s better to not chase off a new member this time…” Banhammer suggested. 

Subspace backed off, rolling his eyes. He took a couple of steps aside.

That was not enough.

I glanced behind myself. Maybe, I should just make a run for it, screaming for the deities to put me out of my misery. I definitely would love to do that right now. But nope, Banhammer is standing basically behind me, still smiling. Oh, how I regret my life decisions sometimes.

“What’re you being so defensive for?!” Subspace complained, “You must be getting desperate now, going after such a vulnerable Blackrock robot, shame on you!!”

…

“What’s that supposed to suggest?” Banhammer asked awkwardly.

“You’re not helping, Subspace,” another voice piped up.

I glanced over Subspace’s shoulder. 

And then I noticed the head of another figure sitting at a desk near the window. Teal antler-like horns with a golden ring hanging from the right one, a glowing greenish-blue crystal between them, and messy white hair tied back into a short ponytail. He’s familiar. I just can’t remember from where immediately... His face was buried in his book.

“Hey!! Meddy!!” Subspace called out, waving his arms, “COME SAY HI INSTEAD OF IGNORING OUR LITTLE GUEST… UNHELPFULLY…!!”

He dropped his book down slightly, glaring at Subspace, before flipping his book down onto the table to save the page. He arose from his chair and approached the group at the door, standing on the exact opposite side of Subspace. He silently observed, glancing up and down at me.

“...”

He raised a gloved hand for a handshake.

“Hello again… Clockwork.”

I took his hand hesitantly, “Hello.”

Right, that’s Medkit. Dark blueish-green uniform blazer, with checkered cuffs and golden clufflinks on the sleeves and golden buttons on the coat itself, over his bright teal undershirt and lighter blueish-green, checkered slacks, and heeled, black dress shoes. He also wears a teal cravat tucked under his clothes at his neck and a dark diamond shaped eyepatch with yellow outlining over his left eye. He has a very evident eye bag under his remaining eye like Subspace. I believe he has a deer tail but he probably keeps it under his uniform. I knew him from the sculpting arts-elective class I took sophomore year for my diploma. We barely spoke, though we did work on most of the group projects together. I don’t know him that well besides that.

Though, he certainly seemed slightly more jumpy than how I remembered him.

“Heh, didn’t expect you to know these two already, Clock!” Banhammer commented, very, very unconvincingly, “Medkit’s our vice president, isn’t that right?”

He nodded nervously, “Yes.”

At least I could see someone like Medkit being in a club about literature. I always saw his face buried in books whenever we were in class.

“You did bring somebody who is planning to stay this time, correct?” Medkit asked apprehensively before turning to me, “Is there anything you want to know?”

“There’s not much to know about a literature club,” I answered.

“No need to explain anythin’, Meds, it’s alright,” Banhammer reassured.

Medkit averted his eye. 

“Not sure if I’ll join and definitely not sure if I’m gonna stay…” I mumbled.

“You won’t want to!!” Subspace laughed sarcastically, “Nobody ever stays!!”

“It’s your fault people don’t stay when you actively chase them off!” Medkit scolded.

“Actually, it’s definitely your fault, stinking up the whole room with your bottles of cologne every day!”

Medkit seethed but he didn’t bother to respond.

“Be a bit more welcoming, you two!” Banhammer insisted, “Again, welcome to the Literature Club, Clock. Make yourself at home!”

“You could’ve told me you were planning to bring a new member over sooner!!” Subspace flailed his arms angrily.

“Heh, it was a last second encounter anyway,” Banhammer said, before chuckling with disappointment, “If only someone had told ya sooner, am I right?”

“That’s right!!” Subspace agreed proudly.

Banhammer nudged me along deeper into the clubroom before I could interject further. He then quickly stomped to the back of the room and into an open closet. I stood there awkwardly, cornered by Medkit and Subspace. He returned with a metal chair, carrying it over his head like he was about to toss it across the room. He placed me onto the seat.

Apparently, it really was just the three of them here. Though, the concept of a literature club wouldn’t be that appealing for new members to begin with so it’s not that surprising. But they did mention something about Subspace chasing off those few members, that’s unfortunate. What is actually surprising is that the club coincidentally has people that I’ve met before, fortunately and unfortunately. At least, it would be much easier than interacting with random seniors. The stars aligned in the worst possible way though.

“So, you guys just read here or... something?” I asked Medkit, raising an eyebrow. I wasn’t exactly sure what to say.

“Well, admittedly-”

“We’ll be doing other activities eventually , but for now, yes,” Banhammer explained, scratching his head.

Medkit nodded in agreement.

“We’re still workin’ out ideas but you’ll have plenty to say,” Banhammer continued.

“I didn’t know you and Medkit talked,” I mumbled.

I’m 90% sure that I don’t want to join. Especially with Subspace around. If I didn’t know more about Banhammer outside of the club then I’d say he’s definitely welcoming and cordial. But… he’s probably playing that part up, unfortunately. 

“Even if you don’t read...” Banhammer began again, “I’ll be glad to help ya out as much as ya need.”

And then, of course, Subspace abruptly threw himself in, “BLAH BLAH BLAH!! Literature club, and yeah, we just read!! Except these DIMWITS read nerdy things,” he ranted gesturing vaguely towards Medkit exclusively, who had gone back to read at his desk, “I’ll have plenty of better recommendations for you, Clock!! Just ask me first!!”

Medkit frowned at that.

“He reads hard-cover encyclopedias and calls that literature!” Banhammer laughed, “Don’t worry about him.”

“BUT IT IS LITERATURE!! It’s words on pages!!” Subspace shouted, stomping his feet.

“You probably read court case books in the library, you have no room to talk, Banhammer,” I quipped.

“EXACTLY!! SHE AGREES WITH ME!!”

I really don’t.

“At least it’s not the only thing I read!” Banhammer shot back.

“I read more than encyclopedias too, dimwit!!” Subspace argued.

“Right, forgot about your manga collection in the closet…” Banhammer sighed in faux defeat.

“MANGA COLLECTION?!” Subspace leapt up like a cartoon character, “There’s no manga collection in the closet!! There’s no manga collection in the closet that’s mine!!”

“Sure, bud,” Banhammer groaned.

Medkit stood up from his desk again, “Speaking of the closet… perhaps we could sit down for drinks while we’re here?”

“Sounds great to me,” Banhammer agreed before gesturing to me, “Here, you put these desks together into a table with me.”

I wordlessly went along with it. Subspace made no effort to help, leaning against the wall to pout. 

I audibly sighed to myself.

“Something wrong?” Banhammer asked.

Words leaked from my mouth, “I just didn’t expect something like this to be so lamentable.”

Shit.

I mentally recoiled, I don’t think that’s an appropriate way to phrase that opinion...

Banhammer smiled at me, “You’ll still have a few great moments to leave with, whether you join or not.”

“Hm. Thanks,” I answered blankly, attempting to conceal shame.

Now that the chairs were in place, everyone began to take their seats. Medkit was still in the closet. I sat in the same metal chair Banhammer brought since I’ll probably end up breaking with wooden school chairs. Medkit eventually emerged from the closet for a moment, leaving something on the nearest desk before reentering and popping back out, carrying more in his arms. He picked up one of the items he brought out, it had the outline of a plastic tea kettle, one of those electric ones. The plug was dangling out from between his arms. He then plugged into the outlet near the teacher’s desk and left the kettle. Returning to the back, he also took a water jug before quickly leaving the clubroom.

“He keeps all of that in the closet? ” I asked Banhammer as he dropped onto his seat next to me.

“I guess, ask him about it later,” Banhammer answered.

“Oh.”

Banhammer leaned back against his chair, one he was way too oversized for, “He has a borderline addiction to his black coff-”

With that, his chair suddenly buckled backwards and Banhammer crashed onto the floor. Luckily, the space behind him was empty of desks and people. Unfortunately, he smacked his skull against the floor with an ear-shatteringly loud CRASH!

“Goddammit…” I groaned.

Banhammer clutched his hand over the back of his head, “Swords-”

“My ears!!” Subspace complained.

And naturally, that’s the part he’s going to care about the most.

I yanked Banhammer by the arm. He sat back up as I attempted to lift him off the floor. I dropped him off back at his, somehow, seat as Medkit returned from his voyage.

“I heard a noise. Did something happen?” Medkit inquired.

Banhammer snickered, leaning back carelessly again,  “Don’t worry, Doc!”

Medkit sighed, “I’ll poison your drink for that.”

He went to pour the water into the electric kettle before switching it on. Then he collected the last few things on the back desk, three teacups. He returned to the large table, placing teacups in front of each of them.

Banhammer... Then me... Then himself...

“HEY!!” Subspace screeched as Medkit went to sit down. He sat down as far away from Subspace as physically possible, basically our side of the table. Subspace was sitting alone on his, not that he noticed.

“...What do you want?” Medkit asked tiredly.

“How could you forget about me, Meddy?! I’m your best friend!!” Subspace cried.

Medkit shot up from his chair, leaving to the closet, and returned with a singular teacup in his grip. He slammed the cup down in front of Subspace before dropping back down onto his seat, his face in his hands. 

Subspace smiled to himself triumphantly.

“Anyway,” Banhammer began, “...”

Banhammer glanced over to Subspace, who was sitting in front of me, he was buried in his phone now. And meanwhile Medkit was buried in his book.

Me and Banhammer eyed each other awkwardly.

“You wouldn’t happen to know anythin’ about computer code, would ya?”

“...What business would you have asking me that?”

Banhammer chuckled, scratching his head, “I’m supposed to be analyzin’ some stuff.”

“For school? For a class? Why would you sign up for a computer science class if you’re not gonna pay attention?”

“No- No, not for school, it’s for somethin’ else.”

“If I had to give you an answer, I don’t know anything. Must be surprising for you .”

“Huh,” Banhammer exhaled, “Okay, okay. No need to be so aggressive!”

“And what makes you think you’re in any place to say that?” I rolled my eye, “I only came along because you wouldn't take the hint and fuck off. You're still a dick and I don't care that your arrogant school-board member mother happens to be a Sword.”

Probably too much to spit out at once but it’s still true.

“...Again, I’m sorry I made ya feel that way back then…”

Real genuine, Banhammer, as always.

I sighed, “And of course I'm not gonna be interested in books if you're gonna shove it down my throat.”

“There’s definitely somethin’ literature-related that you'll like. You'll come around anyway…” Banhammer commented, “But you're quite the outspoken one. I think it's admirable.”

What's with the compliments? Wow.

“What even is there to like with books? It's words on a page with an ‘impactful’ meaning. That's all it is to me.”

“When demons read these things, it encourages the imagination, takes ‘em to another world… mentally.”

“What's the point?”

“Entertainment? I think it's entertainin’”

I mentally facepalmed, “You're all weird. Thank gods I'm not any of you.”

“You're gettin’ there though!” Banhammed cheered, “You're a demon to me.”

…

“...How do you know anything about that?

“Heh heh, just a hunch. If an AI's gonna have insecurities, maybe it'll be about being an actual demon instead of a mindless robot for an eternity. I know I'd be insecure about my status if I found out I was just lines of code, ya know?”

I brushed it off, “That's a very specific assumption to make.”

“Not too specific!”

Medkit stood up and went to check on the kettle.

Banhammer scooted his seat away as Subspace leaned over the table.

“I should’ve said this sooner but long time no see, Clock!!” Subspace shouted with delight.

I would’ve preferred to never see him again but here we are.

“...Yeah.”

Ever since I moved out of Blackrock, he and I haven’t been in contact. We don’t share any classes at school, hell, I didn’t even know he went to this school. I would’ve expected him to get sent to boarding school or something. We have spoken whenever I go on mandatory trips to Blackrock’s capital with Watch but those are few and far between, especially since I’ve been looking for every excuse to either stay in Watch's office or head to the Downtown. It’s been six months.

I don’t even like Subspace. I don’t think I ever will again. All of that shit is better off left in the past. Typically, I never dwell on it this much but…

“ *sigh* ”

Nothing’s there to distract me from remembering those colorless times. 

No friend to truly enjoy reminiscing about better times with because those better times have never existed in the first place. 

Subspace slammed his fist on the table, “Who are you sighing at?!”

“What do you want this time, Subspace?”

His obnoxiously scratchy voice was filling my ears, “I already bestow you with the honor of being marginally missed by me and this is how you reciprocate?!”

“Yes.”

“Forget that!! How’s Watch been treating you?! I hope I won’t have to drop a landmine in his closet tonight!!”

I can’t avoid these topics, unfortunately.

“He’s… gone off on business to Blackrock.”

“And you didn’t go with him?! We could’ve had great fun back at home!! Plenty of places to go or talk about or build, robots, machines, blenders, ya-da ya-da!!”

That’s the thing, I don’t want to go back. 

“Does that include the comics and cartoons, Sub?” I asked with sarcastic curiosity, “I could’ve sworn you were yapping about this anime last year, I must’ve forgotten the name.”

“ABSOLUTELY NOT!! ” Subspace rejected instantly, “ANSWER MY QUESTION!! How dare you avoid my questions?! Of course, I easily caught it j-just now!!”

“Look, he didn’t even tell me he was going, it was probably urgent. I didn’t care enough to call him. It’s none of your business.”

“Bah!! Nonsense!! ‘None of my business?!’ And my parents haven’t seen him!!”

“Have you even asked them about Watch?”

“No!! Why would I do that?!”

Yeah, why would he ask about someone?

“Why would you? I shouldn’t have asked,” I agitatedly responded, “In fact, I don’t want to talk to you. Really, nobody wants to talk to you.”

“EXCUSE ME!?” Subspace cried out, “You’re still in the presence of the great SUBSPACE T. MINE s-so mind your MANNERS!! WATCH YOUR TONE!!”

“Hm. You’re sooo right…” I sighed, tapping my fingers against the table, “You… don’t have the power to exert that level of authority in Crossroads, let alone on me. ”

“What?! Just ‘cause you moved out, it means we can’t be friends anymore?!” Subspace complained.

Correct.

Wait. Me being friends with him equals him having control over me? Of course, he’d believe that too.

 “AND THIS ISN’T ABOUT YOOUUU!!” he continued.

“Nothing’s ever about you either.”

“DON’T BE RIDICULOUS!!” Subspace indignantly declared. “We’re talking about me right now!!”

“Gods, and you said you know everything, that’s funny...” I mumbled, “Had to ask me about Watch when your elitist parents are ‘one limo ride away’ with ‘all of demon kind’s supply of knowledge’.”

“I-!!”

“Or what, are you really not living that lavishly? I don’t remember your place being exactly fancier than a billionaire’s mansion.”

“I DEFINITELY AM!! You just don’t have the privilege of seeing my best side!!”

“Who does then?”

“You when I deem that you earned it!!”

“Of course…”

Subspace slammed his fist on the table, “It doesn’t hurt to have some respect!!” 

Medkit approached the two of us, holding a teapot in two cupped hands. He went to pour the contents into my cup, a dark brown steaming liquid poured from the spout. He was avoiding all forms of contact with the pink-horned demon to the left of him. And the drink had the signature bitter aroma of a coffee.

“I ran out of tea, the jar was empty. I’ll have to pick some up on my way home,” Medkit mentioned to me quietly.

“It’s okay.”

He then poured everybody else a generous cup-full of black coffee except for, well, Subspace. 

“Well, I think you’ll be traveling to Blackrock next weekend, and maybe I’ll consider being more lenient on you next ti-” Subspace sputtered his coffee out all over the table, wiping off his rotten lips with his sleeve, “Why is it so bitter?! You didn't even put sugar in!!”

“...I can't say I didn't expect that,” Medkit grumbled to himself before he spoke up as sipped from his drink, “That's how black coffee is, Subspace.”

“I might as well lick Advil coatings!!” Subspace laughed, roughly setting his cup down.

Banhammer did tell me to ask Medkit about the drink setup earlier, I might as well; “How have you been keeping a tea seat in this room anyway, Medkit?” I asked, glancing over to the closet, “I mean, this still is a classroom.”

“...The teacher gave us permission to store supplies and belongings there. It isn't like we are a large club anyway so she was okay with it,” he explained, looking away bashfully.

“And why readily have drinks on hand?”

“Uh- Normally, if I had tea then it's a nice pairing to have while reading a book. The experience is more peaceful that way! Yes…”

“Oooh, how romantic!!” Subspace snickered, “Reading books and drinking tea together!!”

Medkit’s face burned teal as he replied with a mixture of offense and shock, “...W-What are you suggesting?!”

Subspace rolled his eye, waving his hand dismissively as he leaned back into his chair, “Nothing, nothing!!”

Banhammer nudged Medkit with his elbow, “Trying to impress the new member? You just wanna get her to stay!”

“...No! Stop with that,” Medkit muttered.

Banhammer turned his head to me, “Ya had some time to think, any verdict about joinin’ yet?”

“Like I said, I don’t know.”

“I’m not tryin’ to force ya or anythin’, sorry if I’m givin’ off that impression, heh…” Banhammer murmured. 

“You already know I have no reason to join,” I muttered back quietly.

“But think about it, maybe you’ll get a chance to be closer to Subspace or Medkit?” Banhammer suggested, “And remember, you’ve been wanting a good opportunity to actually change. I’m handin’ it to ya right now, Clock.”

“I really don’t know, you acting so insistent isn’t helping. Just shut up for a fucking second.”

And then that’s when I noticed that Banhammer was basically leaning over me.

“Fuck off,” I hissed, “...And don’t throw the ‘great opportunity’ card at me, you entitled slob.”

“Sorry ‘bout that…” he mumbled, inching away.

I shook my head. 

…

Yeah, it really wouldn’t hurt to act a little respectful or at least, be more lenient. 

Gods, if I do in fact want to feel normal then why haven’t I taken an actual initiative yet? I keep complaining about the impossibility of committing to positive shit but I can’t even remember the last time I bothered to try.

“No, you’re not wrong,” I sighed, “I don’t mean to be so snappy, I’m just still… irritated about the past.”

I’ve probably just been burying myself with excuses or pitying myself or avoiding the subjects I don’t like altogether.

I just feel so angry and vindictive all the time, I’m angry at existence so I’ve been projecting it on everyone I meet. I guess that’s what makes switching over feel so daunting. And at the same time, I never have anything honest to say to others that is actually kind and constructive. I have plenty of choice words for every demon I meet at this point. They have to be said, it just feels right. Honesty is the best policy, it really does feel like a policy to me.

“It’s expected, but it’d be better to do somethin’ that makes ya hate life a little less. Better than bein’ avoidant, yeah?” Banhammer agreed, “And I’m tryin’ to be better too, y’know? Started with buildin’ this club, actually. Also started with tryin’ to be friendlier to you especially.”

Yeah…

“...Never would've expected you to start a club,” I began reluctantly, “Especially a literature one.”

He smiled, “I do read, and I enjoy it a lot. Just don't got a lotta time to because of other hobbies and sports. And I've been thinkin’ of starting a club. It's unfortunate I committed to it in senior year... but when can ya really do?”

“If anything, I would've expected you to start the law club or something then.”

“One does exist already, but you already know what happened back there,” Banhammer chuckled.

“What even happened?”

“The president does not like me. He's been looking for any excuse to kick me out and I guess that excuse came a few weeks ago...” Banhammer explained, scratching his head, “That's just ironic to me, the president of a law club is a dictator!”

I glanced away, “Ironic and sad. Are you planning to tell your mother or something?”

“Heh, not sure. Trying to be a bit less... uh... reliant?”

“Hm, okay then.”

Banhammer suddenly stood up, “I'll be back, I gotta excuse myself for a second.”

I slumped against my chair, “Mhm...”

Banhammer left through the clubroom doors, gently closing them behind himself. Medkit was watching him leave too as he and I made eye contact awkwardly. He was clutching his book tightly.

“Uh, wanna talk?” I asked randomly.

Medkit scooted his chair towards me, closing his novel,  “...”

“...You okay?”

He was staring at his feet.

“Med?”

“Ah- Sorry, sorry. I was just thinking about something… Did I do something?”

“Eh, no? What makes you say that?”

“I was just surprised that you’d… ask… that!” Medkit sputtered.

“We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to?”

Medkit raised his voice suddenly, “NO! I do!”

“Then… that book you were reading just now, what’s that about?”

Medkit raised it slightly, “T-This? Well… uhm…” he trailed off. He was just staring at me blankly.

“Are you just feeling tired?” 

“Yes… that must be it! Yeah… Haha,” he laughed gruffly, his palms clammy on the book. He quickly retreated, putting his head down on the desk.

“What’s up with you, Meddy?!” Subspace teased, “Get your head out of the clouds!! There’s no going to lala-land here!!”

Medkit didn’t respond.

“Meddy!!”

Banhammer returned a moment later, sitting in the same spot next to me.

…Whatever.

I nudged him, “I wouldn’t mind joining, thanks for offering me a spot.”

“Heh heh, that’s wonderful then!” Banhammer chuckled.

Subspace leapt out of his seat, throwing his hands up, “REALLY?!?!”

I stared him down, “Yeah.”

Subspace twirled around on one foot, “CLOCK!! FINALLY!!”

“Don’t make me change my mind…” I threatened.

“What?!?! Aren’t you happy that it’ll be us versus the world again?!?! And iIt was just all thanks to me!! It was just that simple, HAHAHAHA!”

Gods, I hated the days when he’d just say that shit over and over again.

Subspace then pointed at Banhammer, “You should just hire me for advertising at this point!! This place would be packed if you were a little more flexible, Banny!! Clearly, I’m the one who brings numbers in, see?!?!”

“No.” 

“You’re just unreasonable!!” Subspace declared before muttering to himself, “Nothing that I can’t fix…”

“Anyway, you two,” Banhammer began, glancing at me and Subspace, “Ya both know how we’ve been a little lackluster on club activities?” 

“It’s probably something I was gonna say already!!” Subspace interrupted. 

“What is it?” I asked.

Banhammer glossed over him, “I was thinkin’ we could do a poem writin’ workshop yesterday, almost forgot to bring it up today.” 

“SEE?!” 

Medkit’s head perked up, “I’m… on board with that.” 

Subspace almost jumped into the ceiling with surprise, “You?! Writing something?!”

Medkit narrowed his eye, “Is there something wrong with that?” 

“Actually, that’ll be just fine, I’ll just look way better when we get compared!!”

“Your writin’s so barebones that you need a worse writer to make ya look better…” Banhammer grumbled.

Medkit grimaced, irritated, “Subspace, no. You have no right to judge when all you write is crack and shitpost.” 

“It’s COMEDY GOLD, Meddy!!” 

“So, here’s how it’ll go: All of us can write poems at home and we’ll share it with each other,” Banhammer proposed, “Simple.”

“No need to explain!! Everything’s under control here!!” Subspace cackled.

Medkit nodded.

“I don’t actually… write,” I confessed. There’s a difference between writing academic papers and writing with creativity. 

Banhammer patted my shoulder, “Then it’ll be a learnin’ experience for ya, Clock. Must be excitin’ in that case, you’ll have a chance to experience what it's like.”

Maybe this won’t be so bad…

------------

This is going horribly.

Not the club itself, the shit Banhammer proposed with writing poetry. I’m not cut out for creative tasks or poetry. At some point, I think I would rather just give up.

My pen’s been on paper for maybe... an hour? And nothing meaningful has been written that hasn’t been crossed out in an instant. Don’t poems have to have rhyming or something? Well, I can’t really come up with rhyme pairs off the top of my head. I would need to look that shit up and frankly, I can’t be bothered when it’s 9 pm on a school night.

Ha, it just looks extremely AI-generated. Who the hell is surprised?

Haha…

…

Whatever, I really can’t just give up.

I guess I’ll just write a short story and dress it up to look like a poem instead. That’ll do the trick.

Yeah.

------------

And just like that, school’s over again. 

I quickly collected my belongings into my backpack, before pushing through the crowds of students scrambling out of school. I headed straight to the literature club.

Everyone was already there when I arrived, and Banhammer was waiting for me at the door. The others were scattered around the room. 

He patted me on the shoulder, “Clock! Welcome back!”

I slightly jumped in surprise, “Yeah, hey.”

“Didn’t bail out this time? I’m surprised!” Banhammer commented.

“Yeah, I was sure about staying yesterday…”

Subspace sprinted up to the door, “Clock!! I missed you too!!” He jumped on me and gave me a hug around my waist.

In what universe would I have missed him first? And I would’ve liked to rip his arms off just about now.

Medkit approached us apprehensively, closing his small and worn out, brown book after marking his page, “I… just hope this isn’t too jarring for you. But literature isn’t the most difficult to pick up so I believe you’ll be fine.”

Medkit’s hand was hovering near my arm but jerked away as soon as Subspace spoke.

“Ooh, you’re gonna believe in her!?” Subspace teased, pulling away with his hands on his hips, “You’re just so corny!! 

He noticed Medkit’s fingers quivering near me, “And keep your hands to yourself!!”

“I’m not- She’ll be taking this club seriously, unlike you ! Because all you’ve been doing is getting in the way.”

“WHY WOULD I NOT BE TAKING THIS SERIOUSLY?!” Subspace cried out, offended, “I am the MOST SERIOUS here, you’re the one who’s fooling around!!”

Banhammer facepalmed, “You say that and then you nearly detonated the closet while you were building gods know what a few days ago.”

“IT WAS PERFECT. The manual was just written poorly!!” Subspace defended.

“Pretty sure the author of that book has a degree,” Banhammer objected, “Go back to reading your shonen manga in the closet, at least it doesn’t trigger the damn fire alarms!”

“I-I WOULD NEVER-!!” Subspace sputtered, “GAH!! T-THERE’S NOTHING WRONG WITH IT ANYWAY!! NotthatIwouldeverreadsuchthings-!!” 

Subspace suddenly stomped his boots, “Actually, NO!! HOW DARE YOU , MEDDY?!” Subspace continued, pointing accusingly at Medkit, “What did I do to deserve such harassment?! And accusations of ‘making everything worse’!!” And then he plopped onto the chair Medkit was in before, ”Nothing!! That’s what!! I won’t tolerate such disrespect!!”

“And I will not keep tolerating your interference with my affairs,” Medkit muttered.

“You act like I’m just making your life worse on purpose!! It was a one-time thing a bajillion years ago and you need to get over it!!” Subspace groaned, “Can’t I even talk to her without you whining?! She’s my best friend, not yours!! And I’ve known her longer than you have!!”

“No, she clearly deserves an environment where she can feel comfortable and your presence does the exact opposite,” Medkit sneered, “You’re immature. Leave her alone. We cannot afford to lose this one member, Subspace. I’ve let your shit slide but I won’t let this case be dismissed.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?! You’re the one who’s immature if you think you can freely claim our members Mr. Vice President!! I can talk to whoever I want!!”

“I’ve just about had enough of yo-”

“Woah, woah, calm down there, you two!” Banhammer interrupted before pulling me away from Medkit. Medkit was apparently holding onto my wrist, “I know you’re all very concerned about our new member, and I’m sure she wouldn’t like it if ya fight here, yeah?”

Subspace and Medkit stared at each other quietly.

“ Yeah? ” Banhammer repeated.

“...Correct,” Medkit mumbled.

Subspace rolled his eye, crossing his arms, “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“Great!” Banhammer smiled, “Now we’ll have ourselves a little intermission before we get to sharing the first round of poems!”

Noticing the metal chair placed next to one of the desks, I took a seat, placing my bag down against one of the legs. I unzipped the main pouch, digging for my poem among the sea of disorganized notebooks and folders. I really should’ve cleaned up everything sooner, or maybe I should’ve just purchased a new backpack altogether considering how worn down and faded the orange and yellow coloring had become since 6th grade. I took out a bundle of three paper-filled folders and placed them on the desk nearby.

I sat up.

I nearly fell backwards out of surprise. Medkit was standing over me silently.

“The hell? Don’t do that.”

“...Sorry about a few moments ago.”

I sighed, “It’s fine, I appreciate you defending me from Sub but I’m used to it anyway.”

“...”

“And gods, you walk so quietly,” I commented, flipping through the first of the three folders to find my poem.

“It’s an unfortunate habit of mine…” Medkit said, pulling up a chair next to me.

“You… You learned it?”

“Not intentionally. Just something from when I was younger…”

“Uh huh…” I closed the folder and deposited it back in my bag. My paper wasn’t in that one.

…

“Clock?” he asked.

I flipped through the second folder, “What is it?” 

My poem was at the top of the papers in it so I slid it out and left it to the side.

Medkit smiled, “I had been meaning to gift you something when you agreed to join yesterday. I’ve been holding onto it for a while.”

“Go on,” I agreed as I went to shove the folders into my backpack.

Medkit quickly sifted through his messenger bag’s copious stacks of assorted books before he took out a small, paper-cover book, “I thought to get you a novelette to start off with since you’re inexperienced with literature,” he explained, handing the book towards me. He was avoiding eye-contact.

“...I thought you might enjoy this one,” he continued, “It’s short but engaging enough to keep your attention, perhaps.”

I took the book, “Well, thank you.”

Wait, “perhaps”?

I wasn’t offended but my mouth moved anyway, “Are... Are insinuating I’ll get bored from reading a normal book or something?” 

“No- Nonono, I-I meant that as in short enough for somebody who’s not interested in reading!” Medkit corrected, panicking.

“I’ll read this eventually, thank you again,” I thanked awkwardly.

Medkit stared at me expectantly.

“...Uh,” I glanced down at the cover of the book. It didn’t have a visible title to it, just a very creepy white eye painted on the brown surface.

“I’ll be in the closet, stop by when you guys need me!!” Subspace announced to no one as he retreated away.

I guess Medkit just wants me to read it right now? As low as my mental energy is at the moment, I just went with it.

I zipped up my bag as I sat up to skim the book. I flipped to the table of contents. Except, it didn’t have a table of contents, it just dove directly into the story without even a chapter name or label.

…

He seemed to be reading from my page.

This was a nice gesture but I can’t sit down and read. Ironic considering I’m literally in a literature club right now but what can I really do? Ask Medkit to hold me at gunpoint to read? I’m barely paying attention to the words my eyes are scanning.

Actually, there is one detail my mind pieced together within my mindless skimming: the cover. The cover was the same shade of brown as the book Medkit was reading a few minutes ago. His was falling apart compared to mine which looked intact with the flat brown on it. I shut it to double-check the cover.

“Isn’t this the book you were reading five minutes ago?” 

I had “read” around six pages by now.

“It… is.”

“You had two of the same book on you?”

“It wasn’t on purpose. I just bought a duplicate by accident. It’s been on my backlog for a while so I accidentally purchased it twice before I read it.”

Well, considering how unkempt Medkit’s copy was, he’s definitely been reading it for a while. Odd when my copy looks brand new.

“I think you will like this one once the plot progresses further. It’s not as engaging at the beginning.”

“What’s it about? A basic summary is fine.”

“It’s complicated…” Medkit began, “The plot takes place in a far-future scenario with the four factions at war with one another, similar to the Playground and Blackrock war around five or six decades ago. Blackrock had supposedly dropped an explosive device on the Crossroads Spire which ultimately spiraled into a full military affair against one another. The main character is a medic for Lost Temple who works for a military underground after Lost Temple was occupied by Thieves’ Den and Blackrock. It’s just called the Lost Temple Underground or the LTU.”

I nodded.

“And… the main character, she was around fifteen when the war began and her parents had fled from Lost Temple without her once the occupation of the faction had worsened. The war itself lasted for a few decades and for around the next five years, she had been living under the radar. She joined the Underground after one of their infantrymen had found her.”

“While she was a member of the Underground, she befriended three other people from the base she was stationed in. She felt content with her life there… but then she started being assigned to stranger and stranger jobs. She started being stationed to assist at one of the main LTU headquarters and there she kept running into suited figures wearing pitch black masks with a white painted eye on them.”

“And she… That’s when she discovered that the entire Underground was a facade for a demon-sacrifice cult. The entire headquarters was built over a large underground crypt where they carried out grotesque rituals. A lot of the demons the LTU was supposedly protecting were slaughtered and sacrificed in allegiance to their deity…”

“Everyone she knew from the Underground participated. She didn’t know that. And she ended up speaking out about it… and she ended up on the chopping block for being- disloyal scum .”

“They dragged her into the Catacombs. Tore her clothes off. Tossed her into a pool of blood. Three of them proceeded to rip her eyes out of her skull. Took a large chunk of her skull with it. Ripped her scalp out with her hair. He shot her in the head. She could still feel the fingers grazing her skin. And then they reached into her guts and tore out each of her kidneys as her blood dispersed into the pool and reached their fingers through her lungs and ribs to pick her heart like a cluster of berry before they affixed it to-”

I was feeling slightly weirded out, “I said basic for a reason…” I interrupted.

“Ha-hah… sorry. Too many spoilers, perhaps. I got a bit too excited there…” Medkit huffed, “Not about the questionable content, the novel in general.” 

The book’s darker than I expected to be actually. I wouldn’t have expected Medkit to read books about murder cults.

“I just… I love talking about these things, you know? Ah- I meant that as in about the books I get to read. And talking about them with you . It just makes me so, so excited…”

“...I’m glad it does.”

I was thinking he’d give me something more lighthearted for my first non-academic book.

“You must know what it’s like, don’t you, Clock?”

“What do you mean?”

“To crave for someone to end your miserable, mistake-ridden life.”

“To have somebody whose presence makes you feel so euphoric.”

“...Not particularly,” I answered uncomfortably.

“Oh.”

We stared at each other in silence for a moment.

“Sorry. I tend to act eccentrically whenever I’m excited,” Medkit explained, “I haven’t had the chance to contact you since last year. I wish we had spoken more.”

“It’s fine, I would’ve given you my shit if you’d asked for my number or something,” I reassured, “And I guess there’s activities that make me experience joy but not anybody in particular.”

“You would’ve?” Medkit huffed again.

“...Yeah?”

“We- We can exchange numbers later, we should focus on this…” Medkit mumbled, gesturing to the opened pages in my hands. He then dug through for his own copy, flipping to my page. He leaned away from me as I averted my eyes to just gloss over the words.

Why am I doing this anyway?

Am I really attempting to please him? I mean, shouldn’t this be considered a nice gesture on my part? I’m trying to be a good person. That’s what I told Banhammer yesterday. And he wants me to be a good person for the sake of Med and Sub, for his sake when he’s regretted what he’s done to me and others.

But being nice feels like dishonesty.

...

Ugh, I can’t be spiraling over such trivial shit.

Medkit’s staring over my shoulder at my page instead of his own.

“What are you doing to me?” he muttered under his breath.

Sweat would’ve been creeping down my face.

“Is there something wrong, Medkit?” I asked obliviously.

He shot away, “Nonono, it’s nothing.” 

“Is your copy just too mangled up to read from?” I questioned, “You can read from mine, you bought it anyway.”

“No-! It’s okay…”

…

“Is this making you uncomfortable?”

Is this making me uncomfortable?

I looked away from the book to him, “I’ve heard about worse things. There’s enjoyable qualities about dark themes.”

“It’s just that… These types of stories can undertake one’s mind into interesting new perspectives. Being an analytical type amplifies the effect, attempting to sympathize with the main character’s plight and hardships. After so much, she comes to find that all of the people she desperately wanted to trust were… corrupted, traitors to her. And in the end, there’s no peace to be found in that world.”

“It’s all my fault.”

“I’m rambling again, aren’t I? Spoilers…”

“I don’t really care about it like that.”

Medkit smiled to himself, “...”

“And no need to apologize so much, it’s really fine.”

“I should clarify something though, just in advance. I’m not trying to reiterate it too much so,” he sighed, “It’s just that whenever books and writing fill my thoughts… it makes me want to tear my heart out of my chest and shove it down your throat. My personal filter wanes, somewhat. So… I apologize if I start acting strangely.”

“I don’t think you’ve said anything notably strange.”

“Just stop me if I start talking too much,” Medkit asserted.

“Ooo-kay,” I agreed, “Look, you’re just a passionate demon, it’s not that bad. And this is a literature club after all, you should be allowed to talk about as much literature as you please.”

“...”

“I’ll get back to this then, if you’re so enthusiastic about it then it must be great,” I said, glancing at the page again.

“Y-You don’t have to anymore, Clock…”

“Well, I wanted to,” I mumbled, scooting my seat closer to Medkit’s as I held the open book in front of my face.

“I- You can…”

“Are you sure? Now, you’re acting apprehensive about it.”

“That’s not… It’s nothing. I’m just not used to this sort of interaction. Or I guess I’m not used to reading with another person.”

“Neither am I. I’m here to try new things anyway.”

“Correct…”

I began skimming the page I left off on. Medkit had his book in his clammy hands.

Well, now that he mentioned it, it does feel weird to read with another demon.

…

Especially when he’s glancing over my shoulder. I can see Medkit sitting right beside me clear as day in the corner of my eye, his shoulder pressed against mine as he reads from my page. I could smell the strong scent of cologne wafting from him now, like what Subspace was complaining about yesterday.

“Ahem… You don’t want to read from yours?”

“S-Sorry,” Medkit shuddered, “I just wanted to bask in your body’s warmth. A lot of pages are missing from mine.” 

“Hm, okay…?” I acknowledged, “I told you not to apologize so much.”

“I-I don’t mean to… Sorry…” Medkit stammered, “I-”

“Ha. You’ll get there eventually, Med,” I jeered, “Here.”

I laid the book on the desk in front of him and I.

Medkit averted his eye, “Oh…” He gently closed his copy. I attempted to hold the book open with both of my hands but my left elbow was knocking against Medkit’s side. I tried holding it open with my right hand only.

“Nevermind, this is just gonna make it difficult to turn the pages, hold on,” I said.

“Will this work?” Medkit asked as he took his arm and held his side of the book between his thumb and forefinger.

“I guess,” I concurred as it did the same on my side. I turned one page and Medkit caught it with his thumb. His shoulder was pressed further against mine holding the book like this. With how rigid my shoulders are, it wasn’t exactly comfortable, it was more of a distraction if anything. And then I can feel the warmth of Medkit’s face near my warmer skin. 

“Are… you going to turn the page?” he questioned.

“What?”

“...I was just asking.”

“Oh, sorry… I got distracted,” I admitted as I glanced at Medkit's face. Our eyes made met just as Medkit’s pupils shot back down to the book. 

I don’t think I’ll be able to read as fast when I can barely pay attention or retain information as is. 

Medkit’s face quickly became painted a soft teal, “It’s okay. You don’t read the same way, I’ll wait for you.”

Typically, I don’t read large blocks of text in depth, more like I do a quick scan over the words and summarize the content. I’m not used to reading lines individually, I don’t retain written details well.

“It’s the least I can do for you, Clock.”

“Thanks.”

“...Especially since you’ve been so patient with me until now,” he mumbled.

I continued reading.

I just assume that Medkit’s done with the pages by the time I go to the next one. We read in silence.

“This might sound random but this character oddly reminds me of somebody…”

Not the main character, one of her friends.

“W-Who?”

“Probably… you?”

The main character was described to have large, blue antler-like horns with half of her face calcified like a deer skull. I would’ve said she’s somewhat similar to Medkit with her personality and deer-like features if it weren’t for her bolder and very pious demeanor and… tall wendigo-ish appearance. Pious not for the Underground’s supposed deity, it was another, vaguely described one. She’s harsh but attempting to be more considerate and constructive. No names to be seen though,

Her friend, he’s more reclusive, tense. He does medic work for the Underground like she does.

“What? I don’t actually relate to him at all… Definitely not,” Medkit rejected, “The main character might come off as relatable to you, I think you two are similar…”

Sort of? But, I’m not particularly religious. 

“So I remind you of her?”

“...P-Perhaps.”

“Well, they have an interesting dynamic, he just acts like how I’d think you would act if you knew somebody like her; nervous and shy, I guess.”

“That’s what you were talking about…” Medkit mumbled, “Perhaps but none of this is actually real. It’s still fiction after all, there’s no grand world war like there is in here…”

“Is there something wrong with me pointing that out or?”

“No, I thought you meant something else about him,” he responded.

“Which is?”

“N-Nevermind, it’s supposed to come up later. I don’t know why that was the first thing to come to mind,” he exhaled, “I wouldn’t want to spoil any more of the plot, ha-ha…”

Medkit was breathing concerningly heavily. His arms were tense and his free hand was fidgeting wildly with his cravat.

“Are you okay? You’re still clammy.”

“Have I been?” he asked, wide-eyed, “...It’s nothing.”

“You’re burning up too, are you sick?”

He pressed his palm against his chest, “It’s nothing.”

I narrowed my eye, “Get a drink of water. Maybe, you’re dehydrated.”

“I’m fine, Clock…” Medkit sighed, swaying slightly.

“Drink something,” I asserted, “Don’t push yourself. I’m not carrying you down to the nurse’s office if you pass out.”

“...”

He stood up abruptly from his chair before practically sprinting out of the classroom.

“He’s pretty jumpy, ain’t he?” Banhammer asked from right behind me.

I turned to him, “Mind your own business.” He was probably watching that whole exchange.

“Just acknowledgin’ it, usually he doesn’t like it when we touch him. Kinda strange that he changed his mind so fast with ya.”

“Okay? It’s still not your business.”

“I know, I know,” he sighed, “ Is he alright though? I wouldn’t want a medical emergency either.”

“Are you actually worried?”

“Thought to check if you were doin’ anythin’ to him.”

“What? What the hell did you think I was going to do?”

“He acts a little rash at times around certain people, nothin’ terrible.”

And then the sound of crashing echoed from inside the closet. 

“EVERYTHING IS FINE, DON’T COME IN HERE!!” Subspace shouted.

“Subspace!” Banhammer scolded with frustration. He stomped over into the closet, ducking his head underneath the shorter door frame.

“GET OUT!!” Subspace hissed, “You’re not allowed to touch my stuff!!”

“Who said?! I’m the club leader, you imbecile!”

“IT DOESN’T MATTER!! OUT WITH YOU!!”

Wow. Okay. For gods’ sake, can he say anything ANY DUMBER? I’m so tempted to fucking... jump out the window. Please. Banhammer soon came out of the closet holding Subspace under his armpit. He was flailing around like a fish out of water.

“Shall we begin sharing poems?” Banhammer announced, glaring at the struggling Subspace.

“Yeah, yeah, put me down, momma’s boy!!” Subspace taunted.

“I’ll put you down out the window!” Banhammer barked back.

“What about Medkit?” I asked, raising my finger in objection.

“He won’t mind,” Banhammer dismissed, practically tossing Subspace into a chair. He shot up dramatically, waltzing to his backpack to go get his work. 

I stood by Banhammer as he retrieved his poem from his bag.

He turned around with a smug smile, “Ya wanted to talk to me first?”

“It’s just the three of us and gods know I don’t want to talk to him first,” I mumbled, eyeing Subspace who was staring out the window.

“Let’s begin then, here ya go,” Banhammer handed me his paper without hesitation, I handed him mine. Banhammer raised a portion of his blindfold to reveal one of his eyes but he turned away from me immediately before I could catch a glimpse of what they looked like.

The train continues its voyage through the night.

And yet the group was no closer in uncovering this enigma.

They bickered for hours on end,

The nerves of the situation waning on them.

Just twelve hours before, one of their own had been slaughtered.

Slaughtered like a sheep, throat slit and then hung on the overheads in a car.

Now, the remaining passengers debated relentlessly, having gathered evidence and details.

Accusations flew around wildly.

“Crossbow must’ve done it! He has ZERO alibi and nobody can even cover for him!”

“Just because I hadn’t spoken to anyone up to his death doesn’t mean it’s automatically me!”

This was going nowhere.

And it was still a full day until they reached their destination.

At least, that’s what the screens had declared.

But hadn’t the train supposedly gotten there by now?

Well... I’m not sure what to think about it.

Banhammer lowered my paper, “Not my best work, honestly. I don’t write poems!”

“Why’d you suggest it yesterday then?”

He shrugged, “I thought it was a fun idea.”

His was also a story, albeit, a better one than mine. And with more detail included.

“I don’t really know what to say about it,” I muttered.

“Don’t really gotta,” Banhammer reassured, “I like yours though. It’s cute.”

I narrowed my eye, “Cute?”

“It’s a compliment!”

“Not when it comes from you.”

“Aw man, ya don’t have to be so harsh…”

I crossed my arms, “Thanks anyway.”

Banhammer smirked to himself at my apprehension, “Like I said, it’s a compliment. Didn’t expect that?”

“...Do you have anything else to say about it?”

“Maybe a bit more detail, better phrasing or word choice?” he picked out as he turned away to read again, “The lines are all pretty short.”

“It’s not like I had any better ideas,” I seethed slightly.

“Here’s a tip then,” he mused, turning back to me with his blindfold back on, “Be less strict with these things, or follow a distinct theme. Who knows? Maybe, the theme you choose might appeal a little better to another member since this one’s... ambiguous, I think that’s the word...”

Appeal? 

I mean, going into it, I was just writing for something that’d appeal to every member. I guess narrowing my focus might improve my work a bit...

“...Sure,” I agreed hesitantly. 

He patted me on the shoulder, “Good work though, at least ya tried!”

I passed his paper back to Banhammer without another word and I received mine back. 

Subspace suddenly jumped at me from behind, jerking me back by the shoulders, “I’ve had enough of waiting!!”

I tried to pull away, “It only took five minutes!” 

“Five minutes too long!! Now, let us ditch this treacherous place!!” Subspace proclaimed.

He shoved me away towards the wall on the other side. He placed me in an arbitrary spot in the clubroom, whipping out his poem for me to read.

“Read it!!” 

I grunted with irritation, snatching it from his hand. I went to hand him mine but he didn’t acknowledge my paper being thrust towards him. He continued to gaze over my shoulder at his Glorious Creation instead. Gods, it’s fucking TITLED that.

I went outside today!

Somebody said hi to me!!

So I shot him in the chest!!

What an honor!

I went to the store!

The cashier gave me a weird look!!

So I stabbed her in the face!!

How glorious!

I went to the park!

A stray dog hit my leg while I was walking!!

So I threw it into a fire pit!!

Stupid animals!

I went to the mall!

Everyone was running and screaming??

So I dropped a grenade in the food court!!

Jolly good show!

I went back outside!

There was a swat team holding their rifles at me!!

So I called for a black hole to be dropped in the streets!!

Today’s been an exciting day!

“Is this supposed to be a... poem?”

I don’t think this is a poem. More like intrusive thoughts scribbled sloppily on a piece of notebook paper. I abandoned my paper on a nearby desk to facepalm with utter disappointment. 

“What else would I have given you?! A live grenade?!”

I put his paper down too, “Judging from what atrocity I just read, I wouldn’t be surprised if you did.”

Subspace crossed his arms, “Oh please! You didn’t think it was an atrocity!!”

Okay, admittedly it was a bit funny to read. Only because it’s the most random thing I’ve read in a while. Randomness can be funny sometimes.

“ Maybe , it was slightly funny,” I grumbled.

Wait, I don’t wanna fucking flatter his ego. 

“YOU REALLY THINK SO?!” he beamed with pride.

Biggest 5-word mistake I’ve ever made...

“...Yep...”

And then I’m making it worse.

I facepalmed, “At least read mine, that’s the entire point of this.”

Subspace snagged my poem from the table, glancing over it with a displeased expression.

“Seems fine to me, I did a better job though!!” he cackled.

“Stop acting petty and take it seriously!” I scolded.

He continued to laugh unabashedly, “I'm as serious as can be!”

“ PLEASE? JUST...” I pleaded desperately, “Fucking GODS, Subspace!”

Subspace clenched his teeth, “Okay, okay, can you wait?!”

He read over it again. At least, he took longer this time.

“I still think it's okay, it's just not my thing!! That's all...”

“Thank you...” I exhaled in relief.

Who the hell hurt this guy so badly for him to end up being this much of a nuisance?!

“You're welcome!” he proclaimed, stepping backwards slightly as he abandoned my poem on the same desk.

I don't know what it was but his tone felt slightly deflated now. He then snatched his poem from the table without another word and walked away towards Banhammer. His downturned tone disappeared in an instant once Banhammer glanced at him with an acknowledging frown.

My attention was turned to the clubroom’s door after it clicked open, Medkit stumbled back instead, shutting the door clumsily behind himself. He’s oddly clingy to his sleeves as he moves to his bag. His head swiveled around as though he was looking for something or, well, somebody. He noticed Banhammer and Subspace reading each other's poems, probably concluding that we’d started sharing already. His eye landed on me as he slipped his poem out of a pocket on the messenger bag.

I took my poem from the desk and walked up to him.

“You should really get a water bottle, Medkit,” I commented, his face still seemed flustered.

“Right…”

“Here,” I said, reaching the paper towards him, “I just wanna put this away…”

He swiped it up quickly.

Mine is really short, maybe around three stanzas long?

His face was neutral the entire short period of time he spent reading it. The only thing I could hear was Subspace just yapping about nonsense.

“It’s…” Medkit began, “I enjoy this.”

“Huh?”

“Your way of conveying the plot… it’s simplistic but the simplicity enhances it.”

“I thought it was too basic, I wasn't sure how to fix it though…” I sighed.

“You don’t need to fix it, it’s great as is.”

“Not even stylistically or lengthwise? I think that could’ve been better.”

“If it makes you more pleased with your work then please do, but I have no complaints about it.”

I raised my eyebrow. I can’t tell if he’s just being nice to not upset me or something, not that I would’ve cared if he’d hassled me over it being shitty. I didn’t want to press for honesty though, it wasn’t going to matter anyway.

“Thanks…”

“Was that- Nevermind,” Medkit mumbled.

“I guess show me yours now?” I asked reluctantly.

He passed me a thin sheet of looseleaf. It didn’t have a title to it.

He received what he wanted.

I left, haunted.

I fled back to my faction, to the base.

They were gone, gone without a trace.

The place I had called home,

Where I was given a purpose and a meaning,

Now there is not even a single stone

Nor a bed to return to in the somber evening.

I had pleaded with him, clenching my teeth through the pain.

But it was still in vain.

Had he been planning this since the beginning?

To lay waste to the one person who has only been forgiving?

Or was it because of my own imperfection?

I thought he would have never turned against me, not like this.

Those thoughts crawled underneath my skin like an infection.

Didn't it all feel like bliss?

But now, I know.

The words are written within the snow.

All of the memories, all of the intimacy, all of the butterflies.

They were all based on LIES.

But I feel less rage, somehow...

I feel blanketed by a guilty conscience instead.

I don’t know what to do now.

My aspirations are dead.

I should have died without saying a word.

I should have continued to be screamed at, to be branded and burned.

I was supposed to protect the collective, my friends, my people.

I was supposed to reject the heinous, to not surrender to the whims of the evil.

And now, I sacrificed the future of hundreds of thousands to save my skin.

I am as much of a vile traitor as him.

I no longer deserve to be labeled as their kin.

The sun of hope over this faction grows ever dim.

I know what will happen to me next.

The graveness of my sin of which I cannot not protest.

I know the fire of the underground will not extinguish, they’ll be looking for me, I will die.

There will never be a day again where I can look up and see a bright blue sky.

But I cannot bear the thought of perishing in their hands.

Perhaps I shall hide away, where it all started.

Their boots may draw ever closer, rumbling through the sands.

But when they find me, my soul will have departed.

“Huh...”

Reading it was a bit disorienting. It’s just lengthier than I would’ve expected.

“The author of the book we were reading earlier published an older version of their story a few months ago,” Medkit clarified, “The poem is based on that version of the main character.”

I held the paper a bit lower from my face, “What do you mean?”

“Well, as in that it’s written from the perspective of the main character in that book.”

I glanced at the blob of text, “Oh… I do like it, actually, I enjoy it a lot. It has a lot of... I don’t really know how to describe it besides the fact that it's impressive. Some of the language is pretty casual for what I expected.”

“T-That is as sophisticated as I could write, or... maybe a little less than that.”

“What’s the difference between this version of the main character and the current one?”

“Different names, the older version was named Aether, the current one’s name was supposed to be revealed several pages down the line but her name is Bluesteel.”

“Huh, okay.”

“Aether’s story is a little more out-there and nonsensical compared to Bluesteel’s but both of them still explore similar themes, just with different approaches, and certain details are substantially different. Bluesteel’s story is just a more polished version of Aether’s overall.”

“...”

“S-Sorry for rambling,” Medkit apologized, “...You… can keep the poem though.” He left mine on a nearby desk.

“No, it’s fine, I wouldn’t have anywhere to put it. Just take it back…” I said, holding the paper up to him. Medkit reluctantly reclaimed it, and dropped it into his bag.

“You’re really fixated on these books with religious settings or themes…” I commented, also taking my poem back from the table. My bag was nearby too so I went to stuff it in somewhere between my notebooks.

“I am.”

“I know Gods are real but I don’t ever see myself worshiping any of them. I don’t understand the point.”

“ That’s unfortunate. ”

“Why is it? Are you affiliated with any of that?”

“Hah, It’s funny you mention that,” Medkit chuckled.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m… not actually religious myself but I do work for a Church, a Lost Temple Church. Though, if they found out about the things I read, then it wouldn’t exactly end fantastically. It’s complicated.”

“Like you’re in choir or as a… Church server or servant? Whatever they’re called.”

“They’re called acolytes, or altar servants. I used to be one and I had a close friend who was one too. And…”

“We fucking shot her.”

He stared off into space for a moment, “...I do other work for them now.”

“Like actual paid work? Because I don’t think ten-year-old altar servers get paid, do they?”

“Yes.”

“Must be better than a fast food job.”

“...”

“Aren’t you from Blackrock though? At least, that’s what Subspace told me back then.”

“Yes. I traveled for it… until I moved out of Blackrock,” he had a blank expression.

“You traveled back and forth between Blackrock and Lost Temple for that specific Church? You said you weren’t religious though.”

“...”

“Uh, Medkit?”

“Let’s… talk about something else!” he abruptly replied.

I think I might’ve prodded too much, shit.

Banhammer pressed his hand into my shoulder, “Clock! Can I talk to ya about somethin’?”

Medkit immediately glared at him, “What for? We’re busy here.”

“You guys were talkin’ about non-literature related things so I assumed you two were done already!” Banhammer pointed out.

“It’s fine, Med. You should go talk to Subspace about the poems now,” I said.

Banhammer pulled me aside, he had a large smile painted on his face and it was putting me off.

“I should probably cut right to it,” he immediately began, “I wanted to consult ya for somethin’.”

“Why me? Isn’t Medkit the vice-president? It’s probably better for you to get advice from him.”

Banhammer tilted his head, “From the looks of it, he ain’t doin’ so well. He might not be in the right state of mind to ask about this, in my opinion. And it’s an urgent thing. I wouldn’t ask Subspace either ‘cause… ya know him.”

“‘Not in the right state of mind’?” I reiterated.

“I’ve been talkin’ to him since before we started the club, he’s… interestin’. I’d rather just ask ya instead, heh heh.”

“What is it then?”

“So ya know how the Phestival is next Monday?”

I did pass by a poster for the Phestival a few days ago, I just didn’t bother to acknowledge it since I never go anyway, “Uh huh.”

“Clubs set up info booths at the event or interest meetings in their clubrooms,” he explained, “And since we’re such a small club, I was thinkin’ it’d be great PR for us. I’ve still been lookin’ to grow the club.”

“You’re… saying you want to set up something for the Phestival then.”

“Yeah, that’s it.”

“It’s not a bad idea but we don’t even have a lot of time to set up for something like that. Next Monday? What will we do? How are we going to set anything up?”

“That’s the part I’d need advice on… but it’ll take me a day to think about it, surely.”

“Really?” I questioned, irritated.

“I’m not that dumb!” Banhammer retorted.

“Then you shouldn’t have come to me first…” I groaned.

“I did also tell ya just to let ya know first before I announce the idea to the other two tomorrow…” he grumbled.

“Sure, fine, cool.”

“It’s so looong!!” Subspace groaned loudly, “And it’s so sappy!! It reminds me of you!”

The two other demons were reading each other’s parts. Banhammer seemed to be observing from across the room as if he were anticipating something now. And that something was probably not going to end well, I presume.

And that part’s evident when Medkit’s eyebrows furrow in annoyance, Subspace seemed to be frowning but less in his goofy manner.

“This certainly reminds me of you as well, Subspace,” Medkit commented rather passive-aggressively.

“SO, IT’S AMAZING, RIGHT?!” Subspace beamed.

“The complete opposite,” Medkit answered punctually, “It’s making me wish I was the person getting shot at the beginning from how gods awful you penmanship is.”

“Excuse me?! Take that back! That’s not true!!” Subspace instantly rejected.

“Quit your whining. This is barely a poem, it’s just more of your crack work again...” Medkit continued, “You really aren’t taking this seriously, are you?”

“I told you already!! I’m taking this perfectly seriously!!” Subspace reaffirmed, “You, on the other hand, just write like a depressed teenager!! It’s just so... so... wordy!!” 

“At least mine has substance, what is this supposed to even mean?” Medkit defended, raising Subspace’s poem up in emphasis.

Subspace tightened, “Substance?! It DOES have a meaning to it!!” 

“It’s barely comprehendible, you idiot,” Medkit insulted.

“Who are you to give me criticism?! Let alone invalid criticism!!”

“I do this for a hobby , I have the experience to judge crappy work.”

“W-Well, Clock and Banhammer liked it!! And therefore, I have the right to judge your crappy work too!!”

“What? Are you just going to leverage Clock’s opinion to convince yourself that you’re a proficient writer now? I don’t need critiques from somebody like you. I’ve spent so much time perfecting my craft and I don’t need somebody like you to tell me how to change my style.”

“What do you mean ‘somebody like me’?! Of course, the calls I make are gonna mean something IMPORTANT!!”

“If you value Clock’s opinion so much, she even said she found mine impressive. What did she say about yours? You just told me she liked it.”

“SHE FOUND MINE IMPRESSIVE!!”

“All you do is lie through your teeth, don’t you? Feeding you and your voracious, fragile ego.”

“I-I- Well, I’m soooo sorry that you got soooo offended by me bringing up your love interest like that, Meddy!!”

Medkit took one emphatic step forward, “And now you’re just envious that I got a valid compliment .”

“Me?!?! Envious?! Don’t be ridiculous!! Everything I want is exactly where I am!!” Subspace declared, “How do you know Clock’s compliment meant shit?! You’re just a conceited prick with a missing eye!!”

“You would certainly be an expert on conceitedness because you’re so utterly full of yourself that you need to assert your so-called ‘superiority’ wherever you go. 

“‘SO-CALLED’?!?! It’s the TRUTH!!”

“Then why don’t you just say it outright? That you’re better than everyone? Keep pedaling your fucking delusions.”

Subspace took a sharp breath, “Then why don’t you keep telling yourself Bluesteel’s gonna miraculously show up at your door if we’re gonna talk about delusions?!?! Why don’t you keep telling yourself that Clock’s the love of your life?!”

Medkit clenched his fist, “What did you just say?”

“Ha-hahahaa!! You heard me!! HA!!”

“Enough of this shit!” Banhammer interrupted, crossing his arms. He towered over the two of them, “Don’t argue here. Knock it off!”

“Medkit’s hiding secrets!! And he’s hiding skeletons in his closet!! He’s just doing an awful job at it!!” Subspace mused, “Hell, I can even see his eye socket gawking at Clock from a mile away!!”

“Shut the hell up,” Medkit hissed.

“I said enough!” Banhammer shouted again.

Subspace grunted, “Who are you to-?! This isn’t any of your business!! You think I’m just gonna sit here and let Meddy the hypocrite slander me?!?! NOT A CHANCE!!”

“You’re calling me a hypocrite? Look at yourself. You’re just projecting your tsunami of insecurities onto me.”

“YOU REALLY ARE DELUSIONAL!! Why would the GREAT Subspace T. Mine have insecurities?! You’re really wedged deep in that head of yours!!”

“You’re absolutely pathetic, having to constantly lie to yourself saying you’re not just an insecure waste of resources.”

“And all of this over my stupid poem that your deluded ass couldn’t decipher the meaning of!?” Subspace huffed, “It’s just about some person who handles his annoyances in drastic ways!! Done!! Now get the fuck off of my back before I scoop your other eye out!!”

“Really? Is that person you by chance? You attention-seeking scumbag. ”

“EXCUSE ME?!?!” Subspace shouted over him, “You really wanna keep talking to me like that then, huh?!?!”

“In fact, I don’t understand where any of that ego of yours comes from. What is there to be proud about with you?” 

“P-PLENTY OF THINGS!!” Subspace retorted, “I could go on and on but your life’s too worthless for me to waste my energy for!!”

“Your parents don’t seem to see anything, Subspace. Your negligent, absentee parents. ”

Subspace shuttered, “THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!?! T-That’s not true!!”

“Your so-called ‘loving’ mother and father. You only got to see them once a week because they’re so busy living lavish, cushy lives without you and for the 5 seconds you see them, they don't give a shit about your achievements, they don't give a shit about your problems, they don’t give a shit about you . NOBODY LIKES YOU.”

“HA!! HAHAHAHA!! YOU’RE ONE TO TALK!! ALL YOU’RE DOING IS CRYING IN YOUR BEDROOM SLITTING YOUR WRISTS OVER YOUR UNLOVING, DEAD FAMILY, EDGY ASS BITCH!! AT LEAST I HAVE A FUCKING FAMILY!!”

“At least I have a fucking house to cry in.”

“What?! You think I’m on the streets?! Don’t be ridiculous!!”

“Right, you live in a homeless shelter, same thing,” Medkit scoffed, “And you’d understand grief properly if you weren’t so impotent and immature.”

“A-ARE YOU EVEN GRIEVING OVER THEM?!?! BECAUSE LAST I CHECKED, YOU WERE COMPLETELY FINE WITH IT!!”

“That’s because my life’s WAY BETTER outside of that hellhole you call Blackrock.”

“WAY BETTER, HUH?! Must be real fun to be strapped down to working for the fucking cult that made you shoot your girlfriend!!”

“You don’t even have the balls to do shit because you’re so compliant and servile!”

“I AM NOT!! I CAN DO WHATEVER I WANT WHEN I WANT!!”

“Do this ‘whatever you want’ alone on the streets. Everyone knows your parents kicked you out of their house. EVERYONE DOES.”

“THOSE ARE JUST DUMBASS RUMORS!! IT’S ALL UNTRUE, GULLIBLE SHITHEAD!!”

“Considering that your face is still melting off after 9 years, it’s not even a face a mother would love. And would you look at that, your mother doesn’t love you nor your face. No wonder nobody else is willing to house you besides the slum, crackhouse homeless shelter.”

“Better be careful there, Meddy. I don’t think you’d want to trigger your PTSD again, you wanna talk about getting kicked out of your home, huh? We wouldn’t want you cutting yourself in the bathroom again!” Subspace snickered, “Oh wait, you did that a few minutes ago, didn’t you?”

“Are you accusing me of cutting myself now? What the fuck is wrong with you ?”

“WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU ?!”

“Actually, nevermind that, I already know what’s wrong with the psychopath, you narcissistic snake.”

“Yeah, HAHAHAHAAA, continue!! Continue doing the work for me!!” Subspace laughed, “I’ll be sure to let Clock know about all of your dirty laundry!! I already know everything!! Then let’s see if she’ll actually love you after hearing about your grocery list of mental-illnesses!!”

“YOU’RE EQUALLY AS MENTALLY ILL.”

“Wrong!! Try again!!”

Medkit got in his face, “Why don’t you go kill yourself? That sounds like something everyone in your sad life wants.”

Subspace grabbed Medkit by his shoulders, hitting him across the head, “OH YEAH?!?! HOW ABOUT I FUCKING KILL YOU THEN MYSELF?! THEN IT’S FAIR FOR EVERYONE!!”

“I SHOULD’VE JUST KILLED YOU FIRST WHEN WE WERE IN THIRD GRADE, RIPPED BOTH OF YOUR EYES OUT AND SHOVED YOUR STUPID POISON AND BOMBS DOWN YOUR THROAT UNTIL THEY DETONATED IN YOUR STOMACH.”

“Ohhhh, Clock? You hear that?! Meddy’s threatening me again!!“

What am I supposed to do in this situation?

What?

What?

What?

WHAT?

Banhammer’s words cut through the incoherent screaming of the other two, “Uh, Cuckoo Clock? Let’s go outside, yeah?”

I felt Banhammer gently drag me out the door, gently shutting it.

Banhammer poked my cheek, “Clock?”

What? 

What? 

What? 

What? 

What? 

“Aw man…” Banhammer sighed.

“ What?”

“This’ll pass,” Banhammer smiled, “Sorry about them, I was prayin’ they wouldn’t get ya involved and look where that landed us… Give ‘em some time.”

“I-I-...” 

Steam was puffing out from my skin.

“I would’ve said somethin’ more but no amount of force gets those two to stop fightin’...”

“…”

“They hate each other that much. I can see why, they both get pretty insufferable sometimes.”

“...”

“I really ain’t the best president, you’d think I’d be more assertive than that considerin’... Ya know. I’ve had to knock them out to get them to shut up.”

“...”

“It’d be fine if you didn’t wanna talk to them anymore after that , heh heh…”

I tilted forward towards the floor. Banhammer caught me before I crashed down.

“Woah there! Calm down!” Banhammer winced from the heat emanating from my skin, “Don’t explode on me, Clock! It’s just the second day! I’m sorry…”

“It’s… fine.”

“I wouldn’t mind spendin’ more time with ya if you’re scared of the other two,” he comforted.

The door to the clubroom suddenly swung open, out came Subspace, holding his gas mask against his scarred, melting face. He was looking down as he bolted down the hallway, clouds of pink poison emanating from his mouth.

“Man…” Banhammer sighed as he watched Subspace disappear down the hall with his bag in tow, “At least they didn’t actually kill each other…”

He carried me back into the classroom.