Chapter Text
You never planned to stay after defeating the King—yet here you were.
Standing beside the bed where Siffrin lay unconscious, you felt an ache of conflicting emotions.
Not just the bitterness and anger left by their cutting words toward every one of you…The confusion over why he ventured into the house alone…And the strange, cloying sweet smell around him ...
You had always known Siffrin was a mysterious traveler, but you were forced to admit—you had never truly known him at all.
When he collapsed from the Craft Exhausted, it terrified everyone.
You said a hurried farewell to the Head Housemaiden and carried Siffrin back to the clock tower.
You could have easily left him in the care of the House’s maids—better doctors, finer equipment—but Bonnie had begged, and in the end, you relented.
Besides, you needed the time to think through what had happened to him.
“How is he?” Isabeau asked as he stepped into the room.
“No change,” you replied.“Still no sign of waking.”
Isabeau’s brow tightened, the worry on his face deepening.
“It’s been two days. That’s not a good sign. Maybe we should take him back to the Head Housemaiden.”
You considered it.
Given the state Siffrin had been in—emotionally unstable, erratic—it was impossible to predict what he might do when he woke again.
Whether he’d endanger the people in the manor, or you all, or even the residents of Dormont… it was anyone’s guess.
“...Let's observe for a while longer...”
Isabeau looked ready to argue, but a knock came at the door.
“Madame, Isabeau—dinner is ready.”
Mirabelle’s voice sounded muffled yet gentle through the door.
You gave Siffrin one more look, then rose, patting Isabeau’s shoulder to signal him to follow as you headed downstairs.
Dinner—without the traveler—felt just as heavy as the previous two nights.
Bonnie no longer beamed with pride while describing the dishes thier cooked; tonight they ate in gloomy silence.
Mirabelle kept prodding her food with her fork, lost in thought.
Isabeau wasn’t cracking any of his headache-inducing puns.
......
You hated the atmosphere.
“Is Frin okay...?” Bonnie finally broke the silence, their small voice trembling.
You were trying to think of how to explain to a child why someone could go two days without food or water and still be unconscious, when Isabeau gently jumped in:
“Bonbon, Sif is just very tired and needs rest. Don’t worry, we’re—”
“But I am worried!!!” Bonnie snapped, cutting him off.
“Even if you say that, I can see it! Frin is not okay! When they came to me, they were smiling really weird, talking weird things, then they ran off alone and came back hurt all over—then they won’t wake up, and they’re burning with fever. AND YOU SAY THEY’RE JUST TIRED???!!! I DON’T BELIEVE YOU!”
Tears spilled over Bonnie’s cheeks, squeezing your heart tight.
“I don’t like it—I don’t like when something’s wrong, but everyone pretends everything is fine! Just like Frin! I—I want Frin to wake up! I want to know why they did those things! I want to know what they’re thinking…!!!”
“Bonnie, I know you’re worried, but it’ll be okay. Siffrin will wake up soon…”
Mirabelle reached out a hand to comfort him, but Bonnie jerked away, stood abruptly, and cried:
“I’m going to check on Frin!”
They ran upstairs before anyone could stop them.
You breathe out slowly, pinching the bridge of your nose, and you feel the pressure behind your eyes throb.
“I’m sorry... I...”Mirabelle's voice choked, and her hands trembled as she covered her mouth—you could easily imagine her biting her nails.
“It’s all right, Mira. You didn’t do anything wrong,” Isabeau said, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
“You only wanted to ease their worry.”
“But… but I’m scared too. I don’t know what happened to Siffrin. Was it really just a nap? They woke up so mean, did so many strange things, got themselves hurt… and even though their wounds are healed now, they still won’t wake up. I... I don’t know what to do...”
Isabeau lowered his head, his expression shadowed.
“I... I don’t know either. But I do want to know how Sif feels. Why did he act that way?”
“...We’ll ask when they wake,” you said.
Mirabelle sniffled. “When they wake... will they still be mean?”
Silence.
..................
............
......
Suddenly, a child’s scream tore through the entire clock tower!!!
All of you shot to your feet and sprinted toward the source—Siffrin’s room.
You burst in, weapons drawn—
And found Bonnie sitting on the floor (thank the gems, unhurt)…
And beside Siffrin’s bed—
A shadow.
A hollow, human-shaped ghost of Sandness.
“Sadness?!!!”
Mirabelle and Isabeau both shrieked.
You all rushed in front of Bonnie, book raised.
(...But something was wrong.)
The Sadness didn’t move.
It simply stood there—quiet, unmoving—staring at the sleeping Siffrin.
(That’s strange.) You thought.
Ten seconds passed.
It didn’t attack. Didn’t react.
Slowly, you lowered your weapon.
“It’s... not attacking us?” Mirabelle whispered.
“And the way it looks...” Isabeau murmured.
Bonnie suddenly leaned out from behind you.
“It looks like Frin!”
You come closer.
The Sadness’s dim form wore a darklight cloak, a dim hat—its height, build, even hairstyle matched Siffrin exactly.
As it turned its head toward you, its face came fully into view—A patch covers the left eye.
The other eye—no light, only despair, a muddle of emotions you couldn’t say.
A Sadness version of Siffrin.
“Why can a Sadness take human form? Is it...strong?” Mirabelle asked, voice trembling.
But you didn’t think so.
It hadn’t shown any aggression—not even now, with all eyes on it.
“Hey—HEY!!! Can you talk? Don’t just stand there like a log! Get away from Frin!!!” Bonnie shouted angrily, apparently no longer afraid.
The Sadness stared at you all...then turned back to Siffrin and spoke.
“They will leave you.”
“What? That’s impossible!”
Isabeau was the first to reject the words.
“Frin would never leave! Don’t say weird things!!” Bonnie shouted, tears brimming again.
“They don’t need you.”
“That’s not true! We all need Siffrin—we want Siffrin to wake up!” Mirabelle cried out.
Then the Sadness looked at you.
“You don’t need them.”
“You would be better without them.”
“...We don’t need—” you murmured, and a chilling thought took shape in your mind.
“M'dame?”
“Dile? Why are you getting closer to that thing?”
You stepped toward the Sadness—calmly, deliberately.
Far from your usual caution.
“You want him gone. So their won’t be your burden.”
“You want to return to your normal life.”
“To be better. Happier.”
It looked up at you—just as Siffrin had, that moment when you grabbed his collar after his mean words.
But you didn’t.
Instead, you slowly lowered yourself to one knee, meeting its gaze at eye level.
“...Stop saying things like that, Siffrin.”
“WHAT??!!!” Bonnie’s jaw dropped.
“Madame?!” Mirabelle yelped.
“Odile—what are you—?!” Isabeau stammered, rushing beside you.
You sighed, uncertain how to even begin explaining.
You reached out and poked the Sadness’s hand—testing, checking if time would freeze.
It flinched—just like Siffrin would.
You tightened your hold before it could pull away.
Then you stood, lifting its hand with yours, and turned to the stunned group.
“Come with me,” you said.
“I want to confirm something.”
You can check out my work on Tumblr @linmeowcat14 (I draw fan comics and fan animation!).