Antics Pov:
The Realm Café's back kitchen looked like a crime scene.
And, yeah, maybe I was the crime.
I was barefoot — because boots slow you down — and shirtless beneath my overalls, one strap dangling off my shoulder like it was auditioning for a scandal. My hands were a blur between the counter, the pantry, and the picnic basket. Bread under my arm, cheese in my teeth, figs in my pocket. Yes, pocket figs. Don't question my methods.
"No Eyes!" I yelled over the racket of clattering plates. "Any allergies besides emotional intimacy?"
She was standing by the door, braid looped over her arm like she was holding a piece of herself. She tilted her head at me — that slow, deliberate tilt that made me feel like she was either judging me or cataloguing my soul for later study.
"…What's an allergy?" she asked.
I froze mid-fig-stuffing. "…Sweetheart, are you telling me you've never—" I stopped myself before that became a lecture. "You know what? Doesn't matter. If you burst into flames, I'll… I dunno, throw cider on you."
From the counter, Dolly swung her porcelain legs like a bored child — if bored children threatened homicide. "If you drop that cake," she said sweetly, pointing one tiny, perfect finger, "I will hex your bloodline into compost."
I lifted the towering chocolate masterpiece with both hands, easing it into the basket like it was a crown jewel. "Relax, dollface. The cake is fine. You're the one making me nervous."
Grin leaned in the doorway, looking like someone carved him out of sarcasm and bones. "…Wine?" he drawled, slow as dripping tar.
I fished the plum cider from beneath the counter, holding it up like a magician revealing his best trick. "Plum cider. Wax seal. Fancy as hell."
Dolly swiped it before I could blink. "Fine. You live another day."
No Eyes tilted her head again, the faintest crease forming between her brows. "This much noise… for sitting outside?"
I grinned over my shoulder at her. "Picnics aren't just sitting outside, sweetheart. They're food, forest, and no real plan. It's chaos disguised as leisure."
Her voice was flat, even. "I don't love anything."
That one landed somewhere in my ribs. Still, I smiled like it didn't. "We'll see."
We stepped past the edge of the café's ward, and it was like walking off a stage into another play entirely.
The air was softer here — not just in temperature, but in… texture. Like velvet against your skin. Light filtered down in slow ribbons, catching on the moss and making it glow from the inside out.
Even the silence felt alive.
The kind of alive that made you wonder if it was listening.
No Eyes walked ahead of me, one hand brushing the bark of every tree like she was introducing herself. Her braid swung gently with each step, trailing behind her like a tether I couldn't stop following. She didn't trip, didn't hesitate — her feet knew where to land, even if her eyes couldn't see where they were going.
And the forest noticed her.
I swear it did.
The Breaths were already here, threading themselves between branches, curling low to hover near her shoulders. They didn't make much sound — just this faint hum, like a song you almost remembered but couldn't quite place.
I'd been here before. Plenty of times. Never seen them come this close to anyone.
I caught up, keeping pace with her, basket swinging at my side. "You feel that?" I asked quietly.
Her head turned slightly toward me. "The forest?"
"Yeah." I watched the way the light hit her cheek — the way she leaned into it like it was a hand she knew. "It likes you."
She tilted her head, the ghost of a frown on her lips. "How can a forest like someone?"
"Same way people do," I said. "It just… knows when you belong."
She didn't answer right away. Then, softly: "I've never belonged anywhere."
That one went straight in the chest. I wanted to tell her she was wrong — that she belonged here, now, with us — but my voice wasn't ready for that kind of honesty. So I settled for walking beside her, letting the forest hum around us like it was agreeing with me.
When we reached the clearing, sunlight spilled down in long golden beams, making the moss look like it was lit from underneath. I dropped the blanket and flourished my arms like I was unveiling a kingdom.
"Welcome to my empire," I said. "Population: snacks."
She didn't laugh, but she didn't frown either. She just lowered herself onto the blanket, head tilting back to feel the sun. And I swear — for half a second — she smiled.
I knelt down beside her, balancing a plate of strawberries like it was some royal offering. "Careful. These are dangerous. One bite and you'll start writing bad poetry about me."
She tilted her head toward me, deadpan. "I can't write poetry."
"Perfect," I said. "Saves us both the embarrassment."
I popped one in my mouth, pretending not to notice how the sunlight caught in her braid like it was spun gold. She held one between her fingers for a long time before finally biting into it.
Her lips parted, slow. She chewed once. Twice. Then:
"This tastes… happy."
I choked on mine.
"That's not—" I coughed, pounding my chest. "That's not how taste works, sweetheart."
Her head tilted again. "Why do you keep calling me that?"
I blinked. "What, sweetheart?"
"Yes."
I shrugged. "Because it makes you sound… untouchable. Like it's a name that sticks even if you try to brush it off."
She considered that for a moment, expression unreadable. "It sounds like something people say when they want something from you."
"Sometimes," I admitted. "But not from you. When I say it to you, it's just… my way of poking at the fact you still haven't run away from me."
Her lips quirked — the smallest, faintest twitch. "I don't run from things I can hear coming."
I laughed, shaking my head. "Brutal. And accurate."
For a while, we ate in the kind of quiet that wasn't awkward — the kind that felt like the forest itself had settled in with us, listening. Bread tore soft between my fingers. Plum cider slid down my throat, sweet and sharp.
Then I had an idea. A stupid, brilliant idea.
"Charades," I said suddenly.
Grin gave me a slow, flat look. "…You want her to play a visual game."
"It's interpretive," I argued. "She'll feel it. I'll use dance. Emotionally charged interpretive dance."
No Eyes turned her head slightly toward me. "You want me to guess what you're doing by listening to you fall over things?"
I grinned. "Exactly. You're a natural."
What happened next might've been art. Or a crime. I spun in circles, clutched my head, and threw myself dramatically into a bush.
"Existential dread," she said instantly.
I froze mid-flop. "…How did you—"
"That's what you feel when you wake up next to responsibility."
I couldn't even argue.
I climbed out of the bush, twigs in my hair, and dusted off my overalls like I hadn't just thrown myself into the shrubbery for art.
"Okay, my turn was a warm-up," I announced. "We're just getting started."
Dolly was already dragging over a twig for a prop. "Fine. But if you can't guess mine in ten seconds, I'm throwing myself into the moss and blaming you for my untimely demise."
"Deal."
She hopped onto a little rise in the moss, balanced on one porcelain foot, and threw an arm out dramatically. "Romeo!" she wailed. "Oh, Romeo!" Then she fake-fainted… and her wig fell off mid-collapse.
I lost it. Completely.
No Eyes, without missing a beat, said, "A small person dying of thirst?"
Dolly sat bolt upright, horrified. "Excuse me?"
"I hear a fainting sound and something falling off," she said matter-of-factly. "It sounded thirsty."
Grin, bless him, didn't even bother getting up for his turn. He just stood there — looming, still as the tree behind him.
"Is it… you?" No Eyes guessed.
He nodded once. That was it. The man just won the round without moving.
I puffed my chest. "Alright. Time for my magnum opus."
I rolled my shoulders, cracked my neck, and began acting out "forbidden love between rival bread bakers."
It involved a lot of dramatic kneading motions, fake tears, and pretending to toss loaves across an invisible battlefield. At one point, I dipped an imaginary baguette like it was a dance partner.
No Eyes tilted her head. "You're either fighting food or in love with it."
"…Both," I panted.
"Bread duel?"
I froze. "…Close enough."
Her mouth twitched like she might laugh. I counted that as a victory.
By the time we'd run through Dolly's overly complicated "haunted ballroom" and Grin's minimalist "the concept of taxes," I was lying flat on my back in the moss, arms sprawled like a man who had given his soul to the art form.
No Eyes was sitting cross-legged, her braid curling in her lap, lips curved just barely upward.
And I realized—yeah. Worth every scratch from the bush.
The fire had settled into its breathing stage — not roaring, not dying, just pulsing low and steady like a heart we could all hear. Fireflies drifted in and out of the light, their little bodies blinking against the dark.
No Eyes sat cross-legged by the flames, her braid catching the glow like it wanted to remember it. Her face tilted toward the warmth, not seeing it, but holding still like she was listening to something deeper than the crackle of wood.
"I remembered something," she said suddenly.
I froze halfway through stacking two twigs for… well, something I was calling my 'constellation masterpiece.'
She didn't wait for me to answer. "There was a woman with red hair. Her voice shook when she sang. I didn't know the words. But it felt like… being rocked."
My stomach pulled tight. I'd heard this before. Exactly before.
She kept going. "And the scent… jasmine and smoke. It made me want to cry."
I looked at Grin. He looked at me. No words, just that slow, heavy awareness passing between us.
"You already told us this," Dolly said flatly, from her sprawl across a mossy log. Her tone wasn't mocking this time — more… sharp. Watching.
No Eyes' head turned toward her. "I did?"
Grin's voice was low, deliberate. "…Back in the café. You told it right after you woke up."
No Eyes blinked, her hands curling slightly in her lap. "I don't remember that."
The fire popped — too loud in the quiet.
I tried to keep my voice light. "Maybe the forest's messing with your head. It's been known to mess with mine. Once I forgot where my own legs were. Weirdest ten minutes of my life."
She didn't smile. "It feels real now. Like I just saw it."
"Yeah, well…" I tossed a twig into the flames. "Sometimes memories are clingy like that."
But Dolly was still watching her like a hawk pretending to nap. Grin hadn't moved his gaze away either, his expression unreadable.
And me? I sat there, fiddling with the edge of my overall strap, pretending I wasn't counting how many times her voice had gone soft since we got here — soft like something was tugging at it from far away.
I didn't like that I was losing count
We shifted after that, gathering mugs, poking the fire. No Eyes stood to move toward the blanket pile… and bumped right into one of the low-hanging branches.
I mean—she never bumps into anything. She can't see, but she always moves like the world is mapped under her feet.
"You okay?" I asked, stepping forward.
She reached out — fingers brushing my chest — and said, "Grin?"
My throat went tight. "Uh. Nope. Pretty sure I'm the one who doesn't look like a seven-foot plague ghost."
She hesitated. "…Oh."
The others noticed. Dolly's glass eyes flicked between us. Grin just stayed still, but his jaw set in that slow, heavy way of his.
I tried to laugh it off, too loud. "You're mixing up your devastatingly handsome forest guides. Easy mistake."
She didn't respond.
We called it a night after that, but it didn't sit right.
Morning
Light poured through the canopy like someone was tilting a golden bucket over the forest. Grin was already up, quiet as stone. Dolly was making a scandal out of trying to wash her face in the moss dew.
No Eyes sat on the blanket, braid coiled in her lap, not saying much.
I crouched beside her, trying to sound casual. "Hey… you remember what you told us last night?"
She frowned slightly. "About what?"
And that was it. That was the moment I stopped pretending.
I clapped my hands together. "Right. Okay. Change of plans. We're going to the Wildlife Realm."
Grin's gaze narrowed. "…Why?"
"Because that's where my enchanted map is. You know, the one I definitely mentioned ages ago and didn't forget under a rock? Yeah. That one."
Dolly arched a brow. "You're dragging us through a realm for a piece of paper you lost andlied about?"
"Correction — for a piece of paper that might help us figure out what's happening to No Eyes before she starts calling me Grin again."
No Eyes' head tilted toward me. "Did I do that?"
"Yeah, sweetheart—" I caught myself. "Uh. Yeah. You did."
"…Why do you call me sweetheart?"
"Oh, I only do it when I'm trying to be annoying."
"Then it's working."
I grinned. "See? She's still in there. But we're not risking it."
I stood, yanking my overalls strap back into place. "Wildlife Realm. Today. Before anything else decides to rewrite her memory like it's a bad first draft."
No one argued.
The forest didn't either.