We head there, receiving glares from the public. Upon entering, I outstretch my head up to scan the many layers of bookshelves and stairs. There are floors upon floors with a giant chandelier at the center. Crossing through the scanners, I turn behind to see a human behind the glass doors.

Her eyes are restless, carrying those pairs of glasses. Her brown hair frizzles in the breeze as she holds her hand to the glass, with another clinging to a book. Her eyes narrow as she spots me, frowning. 

The human turns to walk away. I can’t blame her. I am who I am. And besides, it’s going to get messy. 

I follow Mable as she strolls through every corner of this building, writing down on a notepad. Whenever I slip a peek at her writing, it’s incoherent. 

She, at one point, turns to me with a raised voice, “Why are you so fixated on what I’m writing? It’s only for me to see!”

I say quietly, “I can barely read it. Who taught you how to write?” 

She forces a chuckle as she snaps at me. “Ooo, if you’re so concerned about my handwriting, then how about you take fucking some notes for me while I talk?” She slaps the note and pen onto my chest.

I silently write as Mable details about almost every window, exit, and hiding spot in this building. She talks fast, forcing me to use shorthand as I jot down everything. We pass by a couple of the same places until she stops herself. 

“Lemme see this,” Mable says, snatching the note from my hand.

She grits her teeth for a moment as she reads through. “Huh? What the fuck is all this? I can barely read this.” 

I look back at what I wrote. “This is cursive…” 

Mable leans forward as she looks into it more. “Only pompous assholes use cursive.”

She turns with a hand on her hip. “Ugh, I’m gonna need you to translate while I buy some stuff.”

We set up several traps across the library after all that buying. We make sure to follow everything she wrote. Eventually, it’s nighttime, and we wait for the Gothman. I lean against the bean bags, staring up at the ceiling and the shining chandelier before its glow disappears. I drift off.

Everything is so fuzzy. Is it worth waiting? It’s so much work just to find her. What are my crewmates doing while I’m gone? What is Dyna doing in this town? Will Maya accept me?

Shatter! 

Loud rustling bursts through the library. It echoes through. I rise, scanning through the dark interiors, save for a few lamps we kept on. 

“Hey! Get over here!” Mable's voice booms through. 

I run through, looking for the source as I begin to hear the banging of Mable’s firearm. 

“Shit!” Mable’s voice announces.

A loud crash hits the glass window. I search around, seeing the shattered glass and the small figure flying in the dark blue sky. Mable’s gun lies on the floor in front of me.

I jump through the window. I can’t lose this chance, not when Mable is unarmed and with this beast. 

I pursue the Gothman. I summon my bat familiar to track them. I run through the city, entering the forest. I can’t exert myself too much. 

I’m huffing and puffing, holding my side as I continue this chase. The trees grow bigger as I pass by. 

The last thing I saw through my familiar was the two landing somewhere before it gets crushed. I should’ve paid more attention. Maybe if I were with Mable, then she wouldn’t have been stuck with that monster alone. I know she can fix herself, but what if it’s too much for her?

I push through the trees in my way, knocking them over as I exhale. I can’t stop marching. I can’t stop this pursuit. I need to find them. I can’t forgive myself if Mable dies on my watch. I have to find them!

My pace continues to slow down. With each step I take, I exhale. I scan up, observing the smoke. This has to be it — I spring over, cutting the distance short. The fire dances before my eyes.  

The distance mumbling. I hear her voice — Mable’s.  I monitor the open space. Tents spread across the field, littering the floor. Mable accompanies a winged, fluffy, human-sized bipedal beast and a giant red-haired ape-like biped. The three sit on makeshift benches. My eyes linger on the cooking pot.

I stop to see one of them holding that horribly taped paper.

“I dream of tomorrow. A tomorrow with my Blue-Eyes-White-Cutie.” A gravelly voice emanates from the Gothman.

I hold tightly onto the nearby tree. Why? Why? Why….? 

The winged biped tosses it at Mable. “This is really cringe.”

Mable…. I break the wooden bark. This was only for Maya’s eyes.

The red-haired giant chimes in with a soft voice, “I thought it was cute.” 

The two monsters argue. 

I glance over at Mable, folding the poem I wrote. Mable scans through the trees before meeting my eyes.

 Her brows rise slightly. A bit of her mouth opens. She forces a sharpened expression before gesturing for me to get here.

I step closer. 

I enter this open field. I inhale and exhale. The hairy biped welcomes me as the winged biped mumbles something under his breath.

I take a seat as the massive ape offers us bowls of stew. I take mine as my spoon ripples the liquid. It smells nice… Mable slightly shakes her head when I glance at her. I dine on it.

“Where’s your death collar, Ringo Starr?” Says the Gothman. His bright eyes stare me down. 

I comment, “Why does everyone call me that?” 

I don’t really mind the name. I just don’t understand why I’m assigned this name. It started with Mable, didn’t it?

Mable interjects with her pointer finger raised, “Ahaha, well, you see they implemented something in his body cause they know Ringo would rip it out with ease!” 

What is this story? I don’t remember this. What’s up with her? She steals my poem for Maya, gets it read outloud, and now she’s making stuff up about me.

The big guy speaks, “Sorry this happened to you.”  

I shift.

He continues, “My name is Milo. My mmm, what word is that? His name is Art.” The hairy giant points at the Gothman. 

Arc speaks in what sounds like another language, but at a somewhat slow pace, crossing his arms. Milly engages with Arc, speaking in the same tongue at a quicker pace. 

Milly breaks this up by speaking English again, “We have guests. Don’t be rude.” 

Arc speaks up, “Yeah, like hell they’re 'guests.’ One of them is a goddamn vampire. I love you, and I know you barely know much about the outside as is, but Ringo here is the top of the hierarchy.”

Mable slides her bowl. She arches her mouth as our eyes meet, gritting her teeth. The two bicker in that unknown language once again. Arc picks up a book and flips through several pages. He slides his fingers as he reads out the contents in that other language. 

Mable scoots over to my side as this goes on. She whispers, “I lost my gun, Star. You’re going to have to dirty your hands.” 

I overhear distant English talking from Arc. “Milo, imagine old money in the body of a monster!” 

I pause. The job, right. 

I overhear Milly, “Like Great Gatsby?”

It’s just….

“Hey, look at me!” Sable hushes sharply.

Arc speaks, “No! He’s new money! Well, that analogy can — errrrrrh — work.”

Mable grabs my wrist. “Hey, asshole. Pay attention!” 

I glance back for a moment. Her eyes widen. They sharpen as she lets go of me. 

Milly replies, “I thought they were more — mmm the Hungry Caterpillar.”

I look at the surroundings

Arc continues, “That book is for little kids, I need to say.”

I see the many books, pots, utensils, and pages around us. Scattering attempts at English writing litter the ground.

Milly responds, “Then why did you read it to me?”

I look at the stew I have. The old smell I remembered from then.

Arc speaks, “Because you asked me!”

Those letters remind me of the progress I made on my own. That poem was me trying to prove I could create something meaningful.

Milly speaks up, “Hello! Mrs. Sable.”

I shift back to her.

Mable turns to the giant. “Er, what? For your information, I’m not married.”

I glance at her pocket. 

Milly continues, “I’m sorry. I wanted to know your, what’s the word?”

“Opinion.” Arc inserts himself.

“A penguin…. on the books.”

I need that back. I need that sign of my love back.

Mable waves off. “I don’t read books.”

Just give it back.

“Ringo.” I hear Milly’s voice.

My head rises. “Huh?”

Mable taps her foot. “Ringo Starr, they want to ask you about books or some shit.

Her hand tucks deeply into her pockets.

The giant clears his throat. “What book do you read?”

I look back. “I think I used to read manga.”

Arc tilts his head. “Manga…?”

Milly asks, “What’s that?”

“Picture books for perverts.”

Huh?

Mable leans forward. “I don’t think that’s right… I’d rather you don’t call him a fucking pervert.”

The winged man forces himself to laugh. “Whatever. I don’t give a damn. You two were here to kill us, right?”

“I–I don’t want to,” I say.

“He doesn’t want to, Art,” comments Milly.

Mable gets up.

“I’m not a goddamn idiot. That lady tried to shoot, then clung onto me. And when she saw my dear Milo, she suddenly started telling some bullshit — until he shows up!” He points at me.

Mable walks by me. 

She whispers, “If you don’t want to kill them, then fine. Fuck. We’ll shake down Salty.”

I whisper back, “Give it back.”

She stops.

Arc continues, “What are you two whispering about!?”

Milly interjects. “Art, please. Give them space.”

I hear the crinkling in her pocket.

I continue to whisper, “Please.”

She shoves the broken paper in my face.

She huffs. “We’re leaving, Star.”

I hold onto it — the essence of my heart. It’s barely holding together with my tears and tapes. It endures my pain and is resting here on my hands.

I follow her.

I overhear the distant arguing. I don’t look back. I’ll manage. I’ll find the path to find her. I need to bring this to her. 

I can’t — The world stops — my heart pounds. The fire intensifies as it all blurs. Mable’s voice mumbles. My head feels the needles stabbing through. 

I fall to one knee, huffing and puffing. I hold my chest. It’s a similar feeling to what happened a couple of days ago. I feel Mable’s grip tightening even harder. I hear the muffled screaming echoing. I look up at her. Her lips move, but I hear so many things at once that I struggle with comprehending. 

The pain spread through my head. It eats at me, moment by moment, as the world darkens. Inhale. Exhale. I try to maintain a pace, but I can’t. All I can see is her blurred face till… The world goes black.