Even after Sunset fell silent, Wallflower—that was her word—never tried to move. She stayed motionless on the floor, blinking up at all the nothing around her.
Was that what she was seeing right now? Nothing? No, that wasn’t right. Wallflower knew the nothing—it was safe and soft, like a warm shroud on a cold night. Just because she couldn’t see anything didn’t mean she was seeing the same nothing she came from.
Where is it?
It was nice, that nothing. Was Sunset nice too? It would be easier to tell if Wallflower could find her.
She left you.
She missed Sunset, almost as much as she missed the nothing. They both made her feel better. When would Sunset come back? Would she ever come back...?
Just like everyone else.
Of course she would. Sunset was nice. She must be nice, because she was holding Wallflower after she came back from the darker-than-dark place.
When will you leave her?
Yes, she concluded. Sunset was nice. Idiot.
Pain. Will have to try again.
Her head hurt. How did that happen again?
You failed.
She must have hit her head on something, something she couldn’t see. Maybe she hit her head on the nothing—not her nothing, but this nothing all around her right now.
It’s not yours, idiot.
Was this really nothing? No, she reminded herself. It wasn’t anything, but it was not nothing. And either way, it really wasn’t safe, not if it hurt her head.
What else will it hurt?
Her nothing would never do that. There was no pain when she was with her nothing.
It’s not yours.
Would she ever be able to go back there? She hoped so. But how to find it? Try again.
Try again.
Wallflower blinked—at least she thought she did. It was impossible to tell. She tried her best to flex her muscles, starting with her fingertips. Despite remembering how to move, she found doing so now to be impossible. It was as if something had disconnected her mind and body. Only the parts that moved, though. She could still feel. She knew because her head still hurt.
It hurts. She made it hurt.
Sunset said something to Wallflower about a stone. Maybe someone threw a stone at her, and that’s why her head hurt.
Don’t listen.
Maybe when Wallflower asked Sunset things, Sunset wasn’t telling her the truth. Why would Sunset do that, though? She was nice. Was she nice...?
Was she breathing? If this place wasn’t anything, she wouldn’t be able to breathe. She was breathing. She could feel her lungs expanding and contracting, just as she felt her head hurting.
She’ll hurt you.
That was good. She needed to breathe.
Liar.
There was a sound—quiet, like Sunset had been—and Wallflower started breathing faster. She didn’t like it very much, but she couldn’t control it any more than she could control her arms and legs.
It isn’t safe here.
Her head hurt. She still couldn’t move. She heard the sound again, and it was closer. Was it? Maybe it was just louder. She couldn’t tell, not when there wasn’t anything. But if she heard something, then it was something. Now she knew it was definitely not nothing.
God, you are stupid.
The sound was louder, like wind rushing in her ears. It had a tone to it, rising and falling and rising again, sometimes shaky and sometimes calm. It would stop for a while, then start again.
She’s going to hurt you.
Wallflower’s heart pounded in her chest. She couldn’t move. Why couldn’t she move? She focused all her energy on lifting her legs, fueled by a sudden desperation to get away from whatever nothing-not-nothing she was in.
Not safe.
Not safe. Not safe.
Not safe. Not safe.
Not safe. Not safe. Not safe.
Not safe. Not safe.
Not safe...!
Run...!
Her limbs stiffened, shuddering. Even though Wallflower couldn’t see, she knew she was in danger.
You have to run.
Where was Sunset?
She wants to hurt you.
Sunset was supposed to be nice. She was supposed to keep Wallflower safe. Why did she go away and leave Wallflower with this awful noise?
She left you.
Maybe she went to the nothing. Wallflower wished she could go away with her.
She’ll kill you.
Without Sunset, she was scared. Without Sunset, she was all alone. Why would Sunset do that to her? ...Familiar.
Was she always scared? Was she always alone? Maybe Sunset wasn’t nice.
You have to get away.
If Sunset wasn’t nice, why had she talked to Wallflower at all? It was because of Sunset that she had been so warm when she came back from the nothing.
Don’t trust her.
Maybe it was Sunset’s fault that Wallflower had to leave the nothing. Maybe Sunset took her from there, stole her away from the darker-than-darkness that made her feel okay. Maybe Sunset wanted it all to herself, so she ripped Wallflower from safety and left her here with this fake nothing that was only cold and scary.
She’ll never let you go back.
Sunset must have lied about being nice. Sunset must have pulled Wallflower away from the nothing. Sunset must have been the one who made her head hurt. It still hurt, even now. Was it worse than before? She didn’t know.
The noise was louder again. It must be closer. Was it going to hurt her too?
Yes.
The louder the noise got, the clearer it became. Its muffled whispers took form as they rose in volume and pitch, creating a sound that Wallflower could at last recognize.
“...Wallflower?”
A voice. “How are you feeling? I got some ice for your head.” Her voice.
Don’t let her trick you again.
She started to see colors. The more Wallflower listened to Sunset’s voice, the more the nothing-not-nothing faded away. Her vision was filled with featureless patches of red and yellow and orange and white.
If you do, she’ll kill you.
“Can you hear me? Wallflower?” Sunset’s face took shape before her, and another color came to life. Blue eyes stared down at her, warming her very soul.
It’s all a lie.
“H-hey, can you hear me? Speak if you can hear me,” Sunset said in soft, shaky tones. “Or move, or... Blink...?” Shakier with every word. Was she scared? It sounded like it, but Sunset lied to her before. She lied about being nice. Nice people didn’t lie.
“Wallflower? Say s-something!” Hands on her shoulders. She could feel them, just as she heard and saw Sunset, just as she felt her head hurt. It was all real—it wasn’t a lie.
“O-oh no, oh no no no...” Sunset sounded so scared... Was she really lying? How could she be? Everything else wasn’t a lie.
“W-Wallflower, please, wake up!”
Don’t.
She blinked, then blinked again. Slowly, she turned her head so that her eyes lined up with Sunset’s blue ones. They were blue. Bright blue.
“Wallflower!” Warmth wrapped around her, holding her tight. “O-oh thank Goddess, I was so worried!”
In that moment, Wallflower felt safe. When Sunset pulled back and she saw those blue eyes again, she felt even safer.
Get away from her.
Blue was a nice color, so Sunset had to be nice, right? No.
“Are you alright? I-I thought you might be—oh, uhm, what’s your name? Do you still remember? Can you tell me your name?” Sunset spoke so fast. It was hard for Wallflower to keep up. Whose fault was that?
She took a deep breath. It felt good to be in control of her breathing again. “...What?”
“Your name!” Sunset was louder again. Wallflower’s head hurt a little more, but at least she understood the words this time.
“Whh-allflower,” she said. She took a quick breath so she could be sure she’d finish the sentence. “My name i-is Wallflower.”
Are you really that stupid?
“Yes! Good, okay—sorry, sorry. I just had to be sure.” Sunset wrapped her in warmth again. It was really nice. That meant it must be really safe, too.
She wants to kill you.
Wallflower struggled with her own muscles, at last breaking free of their lethargy and sitting up. Doing so forced Sunset to let go, which wasn’t what Wallflower wanted. Maybe she should have stayed still. If she had, she would still be warm and safe. Not safe like the darker-than-darkness, but Sunset was the best she had until she could go back.
She’ll never let you go back.
“I’ve got the bed all set up for you, okay? Here, let me help you up.” Sunset took Wallflower’s hand then moved under her arm. She stood, and Wallflower had to stand alongside her.
“I’ll lead you up the stairs, okay? We can take it slow.” Sunset took a step, and Wallflower did the same. She stumbled a bit, and fear gripped her heart for a moment when she thought she was going to collapse. The fear evaporated when she realized Sunset kept her from falling. Sunset kept her safe.
It’s all a lie.
They moved up the stairs one slow step at a time. The first few were tricky, and Wallflower almost fell a few more times. Sunset held her up, though. Sunset kept her safe.
They reached the top, and Sunset helped Wallflower reach the bed. “I’ll go get the ice,” Sunset said. “You just lie down, okay? That bruise doesn’t look too bad, but better safe than sorry.”
Wallflower repeated those words over and over in her mind. Better safe than sorry. It was true. Sunset said it, and it was true. It had to be true because Wallflower felt so safe.
You’ll be sorry.
Her head didn't hurt as much. It hurt even less when she closed her eyes. Maybe closing her eyes was a good idea.
Her breaths were getting a little slower. She took a few quick inhales, just to be sure she was still in control of her lungs. Once she was sure, she let her breathing slow down again.
You shouldn't trust her.
Wallflower squirmed a little when she felt something touch her forehead. It was cold—very cold—but it made her feel better somehow. When she opened her eyes, she realized why. Sunset had given her the something-cold, so of course it made her feel better. She smiled, and Sunset smiled, and then she closed her eyes again.
Sunset wanted her to feel better. Sunset was nice. Sunset would keep her safe until she could go back. She must know that Wallflower would be safest with the nothing, so she would help her go back.
Idiot.
Idiot. Idiot.
Idiot.
Idiot.
You idiot.
She won't help you go back.
She's not stupid like you.
She knows what it means.
She knows.
She knows. She knows.
Why would she help you?
She already stopped you twice.
She doesn't want to let you go back.
She doesn't want to help you.
She wants to kill you.
You think you'll go back if she does?
Are you really that stupid?
You can’t go back if it's her.
It has to be you.