The sun began its descent into the west, pulling the clouds behind it and leaving the eastern side of the great black walls overlooking the inlet in deep shadow. Beyond them rose the white form of a great tower with four stacked tiers, the twin of the one on the other side of the river, the trestle bridge, and the weird tollgate thing. A petite girl with freckles, vanilla blond hair partly done up in space buns, and a large rucksack containing all of her worldly possessions surveyed the walls, debating. After years of wandering, years of never having a permanent place to return to every night, she wondered–hoped–if perhaps this might be the town she liked enough to settle down in.
But supposing the people didn't like her, or she didn't like them. There was always something. Was she too picky? Maybe turning down a place because of the lack of a beauty salon was a bit petty–but the last town had a witch, and she wasn't about to get roped into that. Well, if it happened again here, she would return to the one constant in her life: the never-ending road, always winding into the horizon, but never taking her to it, never taking her home. Maybe it would be better to stop hoping, stop with the wild dreams, and not even set foot within those walls.
But what would it be like to come home to a place like this?
Coming home to my dear friend, the rich smell of dinner every night, talking until morning, sailing around the world, a new country every month. I should have said yes. Too late now.
As she deliberated within herself, a figure dressed in a bright pastel military uniform appeared in the open gatehouse. She noticed him, first for his strange attire, and then for the orange hair framing his face. Two points of orange hair, glowing in the late sunlight, stuck out on either side of his head, just below the sky-blue tricorn. For one moment, she thought how strange they looked, but then she realized what they were–fox ears! All thought about whether or not she should enter the town retreated as she stared at the fox-eared man watching her from under the gateway.
"Hello," he said at length.
"Hello," she replied, her voice soft.
"Are you visiting?" A light accent wove through his words. Not a native speaker of English, like her. Maybe he spoke German.
"Ich bin auf der Durchreise," she tried.
He hesitated, then replied, in something almost like German, "Je kunt hier passeren."
She generally understood what he had said, but she didn't know how long she could keep up the rough translation. "I'm sorry, I don't speak Dutch."
He nodded. "You can pass through here," he repeated in English. He took a step toward her, then stopped, almost as though checking himself, and the girl did not recognize the hopeful look on his face until it disappeared. "Germany, right?"
Was this some sort of trick question? She couldn't figure out how it could be, though, and decided there couldn't be any harm in telling him, especially since he already knew at this point. "Yes."
He brightened. "You can spend the night here. We have food, and protection from the mobs."
Part of her resisted, not trusting the pretty fox-boy's eagerness. And why did it matter that she came from Germany if he didn't? At the same time, mobs had always posed a problem for her. And the hole in her stomach wanted something other than a bag of dry pretzels. Still, how could she trust him? How could she know he wouldn't murder her in her sleep?
He walked over to her, his height more apparent as she craned her head back to gaze up at him. The large ears poking through the fluff of his hair twitched and turned every few seconds. "My name is Fundy," he said, flashing long canines in the brightest smile she had ever seen. His eyes shone, something painful trembling behind them. The sincerity of the smile, though, reassured her. "Welcome to L'Manberg."
She swallowed her laughter. "I'm Nihachu. That's an...interesting name for a town."
He shook his head, still smiling. "It's actually a country, though it's pretty small. And as of the moment, we're all men here." She frowned, and he hastily added, "And European! That was the main reason we established this country. A separate place away from the Americans."
Nihachu nodded, but still couldn't help feeling a little uneasy about the prospect of a town–or a country–full of men.
Fundy must have sensed her discomfort, because he said, "There's only fi–four of us."
She started. "Wait, really?"
"Yes. There's just me, Wilbur, Tommy, and Tubbo. All good boys. Please stay. You see, we just fought a war with the Americans and we're trying to rebuild. Any help would be appreciated."
That would explain the gaping hole in the wall and the gunpowder streaking up the sides. Nihachu sighed. "You want me to join your little country of men while you're in the middle of a war?"
Now he looked distressed. She managed to not laugh again. "We're not at war anymore. We signed a peace treaty. And you don't have to help us. You can just stay the night and move on." He paused, then added, "There aren't any other settlements around here for a long ways."
Nihachu's practical side told her that she should stay here tonight and then keep moving, but she found herself interested in the plight of this strange four-man country. Maybe it was Fundy's quaint awkwardness and adorable, fuzzy ears–maybe it was her own weariness of traveling around so much–or maybe it was the great walls of the country itself, defying all, Americans and Europeans alike, still standing strong in spite of their obvious weakness.
"One night," she relented. "And then I should keep moving."
"Understood." Fundy stepped to the side with a small bow, letting Nihachu go ahead of him. She couldn't tell if the bow was serious or in jest, but she walked up to the gateway and looked in. It was a small place, mostly hillocks of grass scattered with trees surrounding two ponds near the center. One of the ponds came right up to the walls, spilling around some wreckage. A cramped black-and-yellow-striped building stood in the corner by it. The far eastern wall bore a smaller entrance with only one gate. Piles of building materials lined the edges. Most notable–or bizarre–of all, though, was a caravan which occupied the strip of land between the waters. The whole place looked like a large walled-in park, with a few tell-tale craters. Nihachu found herself liking it all very much–even the caravan was charming. But she didn't let on to Fundy.
"So, do you have a hostel?" she asked as they walked down a dirt path which wound around the side of the walls.
His ears drooped. With embarrassment? Or disappointment? "No. But you can stay in the Camarvan."
"The cara–"
He motioned to the caravan. "The Camarvan. It's where L'Manberg started."
Camarvan? Not caravan? Nihachu could think of nothing to say to this.
"It's comfortable. Wilbur, Tubbo, and I live there. I have a house outside L'Manberg, but I'm always here. Tommy also has a house outside–it doubles as our embassy, but when he is here, he stays in the Camarvan also."
What a strange place. Why are there no actual houses here?
Suddenly, Fundy's words registered, and she stopped. "Wait–you all live in that caravan?"
He faced her. "Yes. It's really quite–"
"Is there somewhere else I can stay?"
For one moment, Fundy looked confused, and then his face cleared and reddened. "Oh, yes, sorry. You can sleep in the kitchen." He pointed to the black-and-yellow-striped building.
Nihachu frowned. A kitchen. Not a house, not a café. A kitchen.
Even Fundy's ears, flattened against his hair again, looked warmer than before. He briskly walked down the path again, towards the kitchen. Nihachu ran after him. He didn't say anything for a while, and she didn't push. Instead, she gazed up at the walls as they went. Windows shaped like crosses trimmed the battlements. More gunpowder marked the inside. Though beautiful, a lingering sadness hung over everything, as if even the air itself mourned what had been lost in the war. Nihachu wondered if there had been more buildings before.
"Ah, there's Wilbur now," said Fundy, a little too cheerful.
A tall man with curly dark brown hair like feathers and wearing what looked like a French revolution uniform strolled over to them from the direction of the caravan, wielding a cigarette.
"Hello, Fundy," he said. "Who's this?" His accent was more pronounced than Fundy's–British. He sounded vaguely guarded, like he didn't trust Nihachu. She couldn't blame him, if they really had just come out of a war. Still, she felt irritated, since she thought she had more reason to distrust him than he did her.
"Wilbur, this is Nihachu, a visitor from Germany," said Fundy. "Nihachu, this is our president, Wilbur Soot." His ears twitched. "I-I told her she could spend the night here. In the kitchen."
Wilbur Soot gave her a slight bow, his features passive. A long silver necklace with a feather charm swung out at the movement, catching the light of the dying sun briefly. "Welcome to L'Manberg, Nihachu. You're the only person I've met who has managed to draw out Fundy's genuine smile." His gaze shifted to Fundy, humorless. "I haven't even seen it before now."
Nihachu glanced at Fundy, who looked away. "Thank...you?" she whispered.
No one said anything for a long, uneasy moment. "Fundy," said Wilbur at length, "did you ensure she did not bring any weapons into our peaceful land?"
"Oh yes, of course."
Nihachu blinked at Wilbur, but he spoke before she could say anything. "It was nice meeting you, Nihachu. Have a good night." And he retreated back into the caravan.
She nodded, though he didn't see. "Good night."
As soon as he closed the door, Nihachu reached into her pocket and took out her switchblade knife, aware that this might be her only defense in case the L'Manbergians turned on her. She hesitated, then held it out to Fundy. "So you can be honest."
He looked surprised, then laughed, spiked by a startlingly high note at the end. He glanced at the caravan, his voice dropping to a whisper. "It's fine. Wilbur lets me have a whole collection of knives for cooking. You'd think he never thought those could be dangerous." And he winked!
Nihachu choked on a laugh. "I don't want you to lie for me."
He shrugged. "It's not a big deal. Like I said, L'Manberg has tons of weapons; Wilbur's just too utopian to realize it."
Nihachu didn't know what to make of this, but Fundy began walking down to the little striped building, so she put away the knife and followed him. The land sloped to the building, becoming rocky. The shadow of the walls loomed over them, and the cold of the evening permeated the air. The slabs of stone lying half-drowned in the silent water below the rocks augmented the near-tangible sadness collecting in that corner of L'Manberg. I wonder what happened here. They stopped in front of the kitchen door. "I'll get you a cot and some blankets from the van," said Fundy. "Do you want dinner?"
What would a gang of boys eat for dinner? An entire side of beef? She was hungry, but now she felt more tired than anything else, and she wanted some time alone to think. Besides, she still had quite a few snacks left over from the last town. The bag of pretzels didn't sound so bad anymore. "No, thank you. I'll be all right."
"Well, there's leftovers in the icebox if you get hungry." His ears pricked. "Wilbur's coming."
Nihachu didn't hear anything at first, but then heavy bootsteps crested the hill behind them, and sure enough, Wilbur reappeared, coming down the slope carrying a narrow cot, the cigarette clamped between his teeth.
"Thank you, Will," said Fundy.
Nihachu opened the door for him, and he set the cot down inside. He removed the cigarette from his mouth and coughed.
"Th-thank you," said Nihachu.
Wilbur nodded, unable to respond, as he was still coughing.
"I'll go up and get you some blankets," said Fundy. He and Wilbur trudged up the slope, supposedly to the caravan. Nihachu watched them go, silhouetted against the burning sky. In a few minutes, Fundy returned with three blankets and laid them on the cot.
"I'll be in at seven to make breakfast," he said. "The Camarvan's kitchen is too small and...broken to cook in."
She faced him and sucked in a deep breath, hoping he wouldn't take offense at her question. "Is there...a lock on the door?"
If he was offended, he didn't show it. "Yes. You can lock it from the inside. Tommy lost the key weeks ago, so you're safe. But don't worry, we're only dangerous to Americans."
Nihachu felt silly, but immensely relieved. "Thank you. For letting me stay here."
He smiled graciously. "You're welcome. Good night."
"Good night."
He left, and Nihachu retreated inside and closed the door. She found an oil lamp with her electric torch, and turned it on. The kitchen was small, one-room, containing a range, cabinets, chests, an old-fashioned icebox, and a breakfast nook. Unlit candles in various stages of melting decorated the entire room, from the table to the top of the cabinets to the windowsills. The cot with the blankets took up most of the available floor space. She checked the cabinets. Nothing out of the ordinary, except for one which contained three bottles of lighter fluid and a lifetime supply of more candles. She opened one of the chests. Apples and potatoes. She checked the icebox. Not a side of beef, but still enough meat to placate four boys. Also a container of what looked like seared veal with mushrooms and asparagus. That must be the leftovers. She closed the icebox and took off her rucksack.
It was quite obvious this was not the town–or country–she was destined to settle down in. They had an ongoing conflict with the Americans. It didn't look as though they had a church. Wilbur was cold. On the upside, Fundy seemed nice in spite of Wilbur's strange comment earlier, in spite of lying to his president. The leftovers were enticing, but she was too tired to bother with them. She unzipped the rucksack, took out the pretzels, and helped herself to an apple from the chest. Her bottle of water complemented the meager meal. While she ate, she started writing a letter to her dear friend, but the words wouldn't come tonight. So when she finished, she locked the door, turned off the lamp, then got into the cot and pulled the blankets over her, listening to the crickets and the wind whispering a sad song outside.
She awoke to someone knocking on the door.
No one murdered me. That's a good sign.
Blinking back the ache of sleep and the dream about careening down a mountain in the caravan, Nihachu crawled off the cot and stumbled to the door.
Fundy stood in the doorway, grinning. "Good morning! I hope you slept well?"
She rubbed her eyes. Aside from the dream, she couldn't remember anything of the night. "Yes, very well, thank you."
He strode past her into the kitchen. "I'll make breakfast. Don't mind me."
She watched him, unsure how to respond. How do I not mind him in such a small space?
His boldness annoyed her, but at the same time, she found him fascinating to watch. He first lit about ten of the candles, though Nihachu wondered why he didn't just open the curtains if he needed light. Then he got to work. She thought he would make up some eggs or slice meat and cheese, maybe bring out a loaf of bread. But instead he boiled water with butter and sifted flour into it. She wanted to ask him what he was making, but for that moment, she felt something quiet and beautiful between them, some sort of gentle solemnity in the air that should not be broken. Maybe it was because she wasn't fully awake. But in any case, she said nothing, and sat on the edge of the cot, her knees drawn up to her chest.
It didn't take long for her to realize that Fundy was making profiteroles, cream puffs. For breakfast! But still she said nothing, and watched while Fundy silently moved back and forth in the tiny space, folding eggs into the dough, making mounds of it on a baking sheet, and placing the puffs in the oven. Then he started a pot of coffee on the stove, whipped up the cream interior, and mixed up a pot of chocolate sauce. After the puffs had finished baking, he filled them with the cream and brushed each one with chocolate so they were completely coated in the sauce. He placed the chocolate puffs on a plate and faced her. Nihachu felt as though she had been sitting there watching him for an eternity. She stretched, and realized she was awake. Whatever had hung in the air between them before vanished with the morning sun filtering in through the faded calico curtains and the smoky smell from the candles.
"Bossche bollen," said Fundy. He set the plate on the table in the breakfast nook and looked up at her–and Nihachu did not think she had ever seen anyone so happy. She thought of what Wilbur said about drawing out Fundy's genuine smile. The tips of his extra-long canines poked out from under his top lip. It was contagious, and she smiled back.
He took a cup and saucer from the cabinet. "Do you want coffee?"
"Yes, please, thank you," she said as she sat at the table. "But what are 'bosha bola'? They're big profiteroles, right?" They looked like large, lumpy chocolate eggs. Or small, shiny coconuts.
Fundy moved aside some of the candles on the table and placed down two sets of cups and saucers. "Why don't you find out for yourself?" Were the other citizens not going to join them? Well, all right. Fundy removed the coffee pot from the stove and placed it on a slab of wood beside the plate. He poured a steaming cup for both of them, then sat across from her, his ivy eyes bright with expectation.
Nihachu reached for one of the chocolate balls, paused, and quickly clasped her hands and bowed her head. Then she picked up one of the puffs. The bottom was flat, revealing soft pastry. She bit into it, and whipped cream oozed all around her face. She laughed and wiped her mouth with her finger before licking it off.
Fundy still smiled. "Do you like it?"
Nihachu grinned. "I love it! I've tried making cream puffs before, but they are so difficult."
"Do you love baking?"
"Oh yes. I can't do it much with my wandering lifestyle, but I learned how to do it at the children's home." Ohhh, I said too much. His smile and enthusiasm made me drop my guard. She took a deep quaff from the coffee–black, the way she liked it–and hoped Fundy had missed the last part.
He hadn't.
"You're an orphan?"
She tried to make light of it. "Yes, but it wasn't too bad." Except for horrible Randolf Hanne...chasing me through the yard, finding the little field mouse family I'd found by the north wall, drowning them in a bucket of water. Something in Fundy's tone made her follow up with, "Why do you ask?"
"I'm an orphan, too. But I grew up on the streets."
Nihachu could see a miniature version of Fundy scrounging through rubbish, his oversized ears alert for trouble. A deep sense of connection she had not felt in years filled her, and she leaned forward on the table. "How did you learn to bake?"
"I got a job working at a bakery when I was twelve. I wasn't actually a baker, since I was a grubby little street kid with no manners. And weird ears." His gaze shifted for a second, but Nihachu caught the pain that flickered in it. "I cleaned up the ashes from the ovens. The owner paid me in leftover bread. One day, the apprentice noticed me watching her make poffertjes, and she showed me how. After that, she gave me lessons whenever I had a break." He sipped his coffee, ears pricked. "So, what is your story, Nihachu?"
"Niki." Only two other people on the face of the planet called her that. Except for Randolf Hanne, who'd heard the cook use it.
"Why don't you don't say something, Niki? Dummkopf." He'd ground my face in mud right after that.
Fundy nodded. "Niki."
"I hated it at the children's home, though, and I never made any friends. No one wanted to adopt me–I was too shy and fearful. The cook was my only comfort. I helped her in the kitchen as much as I could. It was the one place I didn't feel afraid. She was patient and gentle with me, when no one else was. She showed me how to make all sorts of things, but what I really loved were the baked goods."
"Have you ever heard of living bread, Niki?"
Bewildered, "How can bread be alive?"
Nihachu paused and whispered, "Sorry, I don't usually talk this much."
"Don't be. I like hearing about it." Fundy leaned forward on the table as well, eyes fixed on her. He truly cared about what she had to say. It had been so long–so long since she'd met anyone like that, not since the children's home cook, and her dear friend from years and years ago. "Sail where you will, Niki, but don't go too far." "What do you like baking the most?" he asked.
She laughed. "Profiteroles, but I need to get better."
"I can teach you how to make them."
"Really?"
But Fundy seemed to remember at the same time as her. "I imagine you'll want to go soon. Go back to wandering." He cleared his throat. "Do you want more coffee?"
"No, thank you."
He piled the cups and saucers and moved them to the sink.
She watched him, feeling miserable. Back to wandering. That's what I said, didn't I? Does he not want me here? The thought surprised her. I rather want to learn about this place. But more than that, she still felt that deep connection with Fundy, and she didn't want to let it go, not yet. And he can teach me how to make profiteroles! "I-I don't know."
He glanced at her. "Do you...want to stay another day?"
"I don't know." She felt uncomfortable at the thought, though she didn't know why. "May I see the rest of your country?"
"Of course!"
The tension in the room alleviated. "Will the others mind?"
"No. You can stay as long as you like."
Just like that? Even Wilbur? How nice being wanted. "Thank you."
Fundy sat again and folded his hands. "We'll probably be working on fixing that hole in the wall today. We've been so busy until recently, fixing and building things. And after that punk blew up some TNT by our walls, we still have more to do." The ears flattened.
"What punk?" Nihachu asked. "During the war?"
"Oh, no, that hole is from yesterday. Dream probably did it."
"Who's that?"
"Our enemy. The American we've been fighting."
"You must really love your town. Country." She didn't mean to sound jealous.
"We do. I know it doesn't look like much to you, but it's not the place so much as what Wilbur says it stands for." He stood. "If you like, I can show you our farm before we get started on the wall. Later we can bake."
It had been a long time since she'd had something other than pretzels to look forward to. "All right."
Nihachu finished her cream puff, then helped Fundy clean and wash the dishes. Fundy wrapped up the leftover bossche bollen to take to the others and blew out the candles while Nihachu gathered her things. Then the two of them left the kitchen. Early morning sunlight streaked over L'Manberg, and Nihachu thought it looked less sad now.
"Let's first drop off some breakfast for Wilbur and Tommy," said Fundy. "Tubbo is usually already at the farm by now." Nihachu nodded, but her heart sped up as they approached the caravan. After yesterday, she didn't know how she felt about the imposing president.
A set of retractable steps led up to the entrance. They climbed them to the door, and Fundy reached out to open it, when Wilbur stepped out. He still wore the uniform from yesterday, but he wasn't smoking this time. "Good morning."
"Good morning," said Nihachu.
Fundy gave him one of the bossche bollen. "Tommy here?"
"Thanks," said Wilbur. "He's out at the farm with Tubbo." He turned to Nihachu. "Sleep well?"
"Yes."
Fundy cleared his throat. "I was actually going to show her the farm."
"Good. Get Tommy and Tubbo when you're done, and then let's do something about that hole in the western wall." His voice dropped. "Also, Fundy, can you please clean the, um, slime in the windowsill again?"
"Yes, I'll get to that later."
Nihachu descended the steps, Fundy following. As they made their way to the western gates, Nihachu glanced back at the caravan once; Wilbur still stood in the doorway, watching them. Her face warmed, and she faced forward again. Fundy led her outside the walls of L'Manberg and around to the back. The "farm" consisted of two small fields, a couple of bee boxes, and a shack which Nihachu could imagine the L'Manbergians calling their "barn." A teen boy lay on the ground, legs propped up on a crate, absorbed in tossing what looked like acorns at the barn wall. A small figure covered head-to-toe in a beekeeper suit stooped beside one of the bee boxes. He straightened when he saw Nihachu and Fundy, and waved, a little hesitant. He came up to them and removed the veil, revealing another young teen boy.
"Hello," he said in a quiet voice.
"This is Nihachu," said Fundy. "She's visiting."
The boy perked up a little. "Welcome, Nihachu. I'm Secretary of State Tubbo."
Nihachu appraised the tiny Secretary of State. "And you're a beekeeper?"
"Yes." Nihachu could hear the pride in his voice. "I love bees."
Fundy rolled his eyes. "You would not believe how much he loves bees." He proffered one of the bossche bollen. "Breakfast." Tubbo took it, keeping his head down, and stuffed it into his mouth, instantly covering half his face in whipped cream.
"Breakfast!" the other teenager whooped, and barrelled over to them in a shower of acorns, flashing teeth wired in braces. "Cream puffs! For breakfast! Your food almost makes me like you, Fundy." The boy grabbed one of the puffs and somehow managed to consume it even more messily than his peer. Fundy took the insult with a strained smile.
How could he not like Fundy? He's so nice. "Are you–Tommy?" Nihachu asked the boy, trying not to gag.
"Shore am," the boy replied, every word punctuated by little specks of flying cream. "All-Knowing Supreme Vice President Tommy Innit. Who're you? Do you 'ave a boyfriend? Will you marry me?"
Nihachu staggered under the boy's barrage. What a strange, funny child. "Um...I'm Nihachu. You can call me Niki...I don't have a–"
"Oh good." Tommy put his hands on his hips, squashing his puff, and grinned. " 'Cause I'm the MOST eligible bachelor in L'Manberg. Or the Dream SMP, for that matter."
Nihachu pursed her lips and tried not to laugh.
Tommy half-closed his eyes, no doubt supposing he looked as eligible as he sounded. "Do you like cows, Niki?"
Nihachu covered her mouth with her hands, glanced at Fundy for help.
Fundy accosted the boy. "Tommy, why are you so creepy?"
Tommy's face went crimson. "I'm not being creepy! Tommy Innit is never creepy." This wasn't much better. Nihachu tightened her hands over her mouth. "Niki, don' let this fox-boy fool you. Jus' yesterday 'e replaced Wilbur's 'and sanitizer with that sli–"
"Wilbur forgave me, so we don't need to rehash that," Fundy cut in.
Tommy consumed the remains of his bossche bol and crossed his arms. "Anyways, Niki, I 'ave a cow at my pogchamp 'oliday 'ouse. 'E's quite a sight, 'Enry is. I've been thinking of going up to my 'ouse to visit 'im."
Nihachu took a deep breath and let her hands fall to her sides. "The embassy?"
"No, that's my first 'ouse. It's like a–it's like a hobbit 'ole, built into the side of a hill. It's a pretty straight walk up from L'Manberg. My other 'ous–my 'oliday 'ouse–the pogchamp one–is on a cliff overlooking the inlet. You should really visit. There's me an' 'Enry and Champ my 'orse."
When he didn't say anything else, Nihachu realized he wanted her to respond. She licked her lips. "That's–well, that's very interesting. So, if Wilbur is the president, Tommy is the vice president, and Tubbo is the secretary of state, what are you, Fundy?"
Fundy laughed. "Oh, just the common citizen. Or cook." He didn't appear bothered by his low status.
"And just you four rebuilt everything?"
"Yes."
"And more," said Tubbo. "We all worked on the sewers, and I built a dock on the inlet."
"I-I-I built my 'oliday 'ouse!" cried Tommy, waving his arms.
Impressive, considering the supposed ages and heights of the boys. No houses inside, though.
"Do you make everything from scratch here?" Nihachu asked.
Now Fundy looked proud. "Yes. We raise pigs, cows, chickens, and our horses, of course. We grow our own wheat and sugar–Wilbur even has a patch of tobacco for his cigarettes. What we can't grow or make ourselves, we buy from the village to the south."
"I thought you said there weren't any nearby settlements," said Nihachu.
"It's quite a ways away, like I said. A couple weeks south."
"What about vanilla and chocolate? You can't make me believe that those cream puffs didn't have any vanilla in them. Surely a backwater town like the one you're talking about doesn't carry those."
"There are villagers who supply the general store with cacao beans, which they get from a jungle even further down south. Same with the vanilla."
"There's also the Dream SMP Community Hub," piped up Tubbo. "That's not too far off."
"Someone's building an ugly thing just left of my 'olidy 'ome."
Tommy had mentioned the Dream SMP earlier. Dream, their enemy? Nihachu did not say anything. Did Fundy lie to me about there not being any other close settlements? No, a Community Hub sounded different than a town. And besides, if this was the same Dream, then of course Fundy wouldn't have recommended their enemy's base to her. Still, he could have just explained that to me...
"Are you staying 'ere?" Tommy pushed, oblivious.
Nihachu shuffled her feet. "Ummm..."
Fundy glanced at her, then glared at the boy, his ears swiveling back and flattening. "Tommy, don't be so nosy. Come, both of you; Wilbur wants us to fix the hole in the wall."
Tubbo hitched up a horse to a cart, and they returned to the gates while Tommy regaled Nihachu with tales of his prowess and eligibility, a surprising amount of which involved music discs and carrots.
Wilbur met them at the gates, smoking once more. "I'll help you in a moment," he said to Fundy. "I want to speak with our guest first."
Fundy shrugged, and he, Tommy, and Tubbo went inside with the cart.
"So, Nihachu," said Wilbur, turning to face her, "what brings you to the Dream SMP? Or L'Manberg, for that matter?"
Nihachu avoided his eyes. "I-I'm just–just a wanderer. Trying to find a place to settle and live peacefully."
The side of Wilbur's mouth twitched. "Do I make you nervous?"
She let out a shaky laugh, tilting her head up so she could look at him from the corner of her eyes. "A bit, yes."
Wilbur smiled, and Nihachu relaxed. He understood. "Why?" he asked.
"You're–you're a little imposing. Especially with that." She indicated the cigarette.
He laughed. "I suppose I am. It's a long habit of mine. Not a very good one, but here we are." He took a drag at the cigarette, released the smoke. "So, a wanderer, desiring peace. That is our goal, peace. I think...I think you would fit in well. You are welcome to settle here, if you find it to your liking."
I can fit in. I can settle.
"Don't go, Niki. Please. Sail with me."
Nihachu stood straight, her fear of Wilbur now almost non-existent. "I don't know. I've been to many towns and countries. And I haven't been here for long."
Wilbur pulled at the cigarette again. The smoke clouded the morning light. "Do you have any questions? Perhaps some answers will aid in your decision."
"I am curious to know why there's only four of you living here."
"There used to be five of us," he said. "But Eret turned out to be a traitor."
"Oh." He didn't answer my question. "Why no women?"
"You're the first female who's expressed any interest in staying here. We would have been more than happy to welcome ladies, but the only other ones are from the village to the far south, and they're content living there."
Nihachu couldn't really blame Tommy's brashness, then, if women were as scarce as Wilbur made them sound. The other three citizens reappeared with the horse and cart, now laden with blackstone. Tubbo went around to the side of the wall which needed repairing, but Fundy lingered by the gate, Tommy hovering behind him like a parasite. "Dream once tried undermining L'Manberg by threatening to bring a woman here," Wilbur continued. "But we never wanted to exclude females. We were just trying to protect the Europeans. We only exclude non-Europeans. We stand for peace, for freedom." He hesitated. "For democracy."
Nihachu didn't know how she felt about Wilbur's reasoning. Excluding others based on uncontrollable factors–whether it be gender or nationality–sounded strange no matter what.
"Can I have a little help, please?" called Tubbo from around the wall.
"Coming, Tubbo," answered Tommy, who didn't budge.
Wilbur gave the child a push. "Let's go." He glanced at Fundy, then Nihachu. "You're free to go wherever you like in L'Manberg," he told her. "Even the Camarvan. No secrets here." He maneuvered Tommy out of the gate and over where Tubbo had gone. "Are you coming, Fundy?"
"Yes, one moment." Fundy edged closer to her, though his gaze remained somewhere just off her left shoulder. Once Wilbur disappeared from view, he looked up at her. "You don't agree with Wilbur's policies?" He sounded wary, as if testing her.
She folded her hands behind her back. "Don't you think excluding the Americans just because they're Americans is as bad as excluding women just because they're women?"
Fundy didn't answer immediately.
Nihachu could hear the other three: Tommy's high-pitched whine, Wilbur's firm commands, Tubbo's gentle encouragement. At last, Fundy spoke. "You don't know what the Americans did to us. We would be fine living with them if they hadn't been oppressing us. You see those towers on either side of the walls? Eret, the traitor–he's the one who built them." Fundy's face hardened. "Even though we signed a treaty and we're supposed to be at peace, he put them there to make us think that he and Dream are the still ones in charge."
Nihachu frowned. "Oh. I see."
"I know we do things differently here." The smile returned. "But I think you would fit in well, too."
Nihachu blinked. He heard Wilbur say that?
Fundy must have thought the conversation finished, because he turned and walked out the way Wilbur and the others had gone. Nihachu followed at a distance, a little irritated. I don't feel bad. I just don't think there is ever a good time to exclude people based on nationality.
They found the other three arguing about how best to mend the hole in the wall. Tubbo wanted to cut each block of blackstone so they all fit perfectly, like a jigsaw puzzle. Tommy wanted to cram the hole with the stone uncut and call it a day so they could go swim. Wilbur held that they should block in the rupture with the uncut stone, and then fill the gaps with smaller pieces–and also that he was the president, so what he said was law.
"Can I help?" asked Nihachu. She didn't know if she could lift the heavy blackstone, but perhaps she could cut away at blocks that needed shaping, or harvesting pieces for chinking.
"Sure," said Fundy, but then Wilbur intervened.
"Only if you want," he said. "You are our guest, so you are under no obligation to aid us."
"I do want to help," she insisted. "I can cut the stones down."
Tubbo bounced over. "All righty! We have some stone-cutting tools right here." He dug into the cart and extracted a mallet and a chisel.
"Then let's move the bigger stones into the hole," said Wilbur.
No one posed any further arguments regarding how the wall should be mended, and the five of them got to work. Nihachu wondered how the boys could labor in the summer heat in full uniform, until all of them removed their coats (and shirt, as in Tommy's unabashed case). Fundy left after they had worked for a couple hours–apparently to prepare lunch and to drink some coffee. "That Dutch boi can't go more than three hours without a cup of coffee," sneered Tommy, as if it was something to sneer at. But by midday, they had gotten most of the hole filled in with the large blocks of blackstone. Then they retired to the surprisingly air-conditioned Camarvan for lunch and coffee and iced tea, though Wilbur refused to go inside until Fundy had assured him that he had cleaned the slime off of the windowsill. Afterwards, they returned to the wall. Now the gaps just needed filling, which was much faster and easier.
Nihachu ventured a question of Wilbur as she filled a bucket with the pieces she had broken off a block for chinking. "So...how did L'Manberg begin? How did four boys start a country all on their own?"
Wilbur heaved the bucket over to the wall. "Tommy and I were trying to run a business out of the Camarvan. But Dream and the other Americans wouldn't let us do it."
"And George," squeaked Tubbo.
"That's when I got the idea to form a nation just for Europeans."
He wasn't telling her everything. "What was your business?" Nihachu asked.
"We make potions!" Tommy exulted.
"Potions?" Nihachu glanced around at them all. "Like drugs?"
"Sort of," said Fundy, not looking at her. "But they're good. They make you invisible."
That sounded worse. Like witchcraft. I should go. "Do you still do that?"
Wilbur answered. "No. We've been too busy rebuilding."
He said nothing else. Here was another reason for her to not stick around.
At last, they completed fixing the hole, and they retreated back to the Camarvan for dinner. They gathered around the little built-in table in the main room and feasted on crêpe-like Dutch pancakes garnished with creamy gouda and thick slabs of smoked ham. Nihachu watched the L'Manbergians as they ate, talked, and laughed, the adults clinking their mugs, the children blowing bubbles in their milk through straws. In spite of the fact that she was the only female in the group, she did not feel threatened by this little gang of boys. They felt rather like a loud, chaotic family who had adopted her as their sister without any qualms. Tubbo shyly offered her the last pancake near the end of the meal, and Tommy showed her how he could fit the entire rim of his mug into his mouth. She laughed along with the others, and the evening inside the caravan seemed to her to be full of dancing silver.
"Could you please stay another night?" Tubbo implored her.
"Yeah!" seconded Tommy.
"And I still need to show you how to make profiteroles," said Fundy. "We don't have enough time tonight, but maybe tomorrow..."
It was tempting. The longest she'd ever stayed in a town was one week. Maybe I am too picky. Leaving meant more sleepless nights around a fire, fending off zombies and skeletons. It meant always feeling a little hungry, and always very lonely. She shouldn't stay–for decency, for no church, for potential druggies–but another day couldn't hurt. "All right," she said. "One more night."
"Don't forget your way, Niki." She told me that right before I left.
Fundy, passing her the pot of coffee, curled his fingers around hers briefly as she took it from him.
The next day, after breakfast in the Camarvan, Tommy suggested–more like begged–they go swimming, Tubbo accompanying with background whining. "We've been working SO 'ard! Feel me 'ands, feel me 'ands! Will! Okay, Niki, you feel me 'ands. See? Positively stooish. Please, Wilbur!"
Wilbur shrugged. "Oh, why not. We deserve a respite. Besides, you're starting to smell again, Tommy."
The two teenagers bounded up from the benches and ran for the door.
"Do you want to join us, Nihachu?" Wilbur asked her.
"Niki. And yes. That sounds nice."
He nodded. "Fundy, will you join us?"
Fundy stood, but gathered the breakfast dishes and began washing them. "Maybe I'll come later."
"You're so boring, Fundy!" Tommy called through the door. "You're acting like an ADULT!" Tommy said this like it was the worst insult he could think of.
"Well, come on!" Tubbo cried. "Let's go down to the docks! Today's a holiday!"
Wilbur glanced back at Nihachu. "Do you have anything to swim in?"
"No, but I'll just change into dry clothing later."
"All right."
They left by way of the eastern gate, the back door, if you will. Out past the walls, the grass stopped short of hills covered in thatchy scrub which ran down to sand, a half-wreath surrounding what Nihachu realized was a small inlet. Further down the beach, the hills rose into vertical slabs of slate-colored cliffs. Vines of green and yellowing leaves spilled over them, obscuring tall cave entrances just visible between the pillars of rock. Nihachu would have liked to explore them, but by herself. She now took in Tubbo's docks, fine works of sturdy logs reinforced with iron braces branching off the land into the quiet waters of the inlet.
The two teenagers stripped down to their trousers and hurdled into the lapping waters of the inlet, shrieking. Nihachu knelt in the sand to unlace her sandals. Wilbur took off his boots, stockings, and coat, and started removing the white shirt underneath, but then his entire face went red. "You know what, I'll just go like this," he said after an awkward moment. Nihachu had to smile.
He's a decent man.
"Niki," he went on, still flushed, but smiling once more.
"Yes?"
"I'll race you!" He shot away toward the water, kicking up sand.
Nihachu stood staring after him, gape-mouthed–but only for a moment, and then she took off after him, laughing. Down the hills of burning sand, down to the darkened stains where the waves washed up, feet flying, breath tight in lungs, reaching out for Wilbur's arm or shoulders, fingertips just out of reach, the shock of the water spraying up around her, first from Wilbur as he plunged in and then from herself, tripping, falling head-first into the surf, eyes and palms stinging, salt sharp on her tongue, still laughing and gasping as Wilbur whirled around and grasped her arms, heaving her up, laughing with her.
And then there was Tommy and Tubbo tumbling up to them, screaming and splashing water in their faces.
Wilbur lunged at Tommy, teeth bared in a crazy grin, eyes wild. "Ohhhh, you're going to get it, Tommy!"
The teenager whooped and pelted out into the inlet, knees and elbows flailing, then plummeting into the water before he'd gotten very far. He rose, spluttering, while the others filled the bay with laughter. For hours they chased and splashed and dunked each other under the water. The two teenagers discovered their new favorite game when Wilbur let them climb onto his shoulders and leap off of him into the water like a diving board–that is, until he tired of the game and he yeeted Tommy over backwards before he was ready.
"Your hair is coming out," Wilbur noted as Nihachu wiped her face from the spray.
Her heart jumped and she felt her scalp. "My hair–" She touched one of her unraveling space buns. "Oh! I thought you meant my hair was falling out." She pulled at one of the buns, letting the rest of it collapse in tangles in her hand.
Wilbur chuckled. "No, that would be terrible."
Tommy stuck his head between them. " 'Ey, let's play Marco Polo now."
"Not in the ocean, Tommy," said Wilbur. "Someone might get lost."
"No. No. I wouldn't get lost. 'Ave I ever gotten lost? You're acting like an adult, too now...you won't get all adult-y on me, will you, Niki?"
"I-I don't–"
" 'EY! Where's Tubbo?"
They found the bee boi floating off to sea on his back, apparently having dozed off in the middle of practicing his water spouts. Tommy claimed super-deep-water-phobia, so Wilbur swam out to Tubbo, caught him by the arm, and towed him back to the shallows.
"We should probably head in now for lunch, or Fundy will have our heads," said Wilbur as Tubbo awoke with a splash, dunking Tommy under again.
Nihachu's heart rose in her throat. I said just one more night...I don't want to leave...I shouldn't stay, either, though...
The four of them swam to shore, gathered their things, and trekked up the sand to the hills, back to L'Manberg's walls. Nihachu changed into dry clothes in the kitchen, and then met the others outside the Camarvan where Fundy had already prepared a picnic lunch. What had he been doing the rest of the time?
After gobbling down their food, the two teenagers persuaded Wilbur to take them down to the beach again. "I think I'll stay here this time," said Nihachu, watching Fundy as he cleared the dishes as before and took them inside.
Wilbur nodded. "All right. See you later."
He walked down to the eastern wall after the boys. Nihachu gathered up the rest of the dishes and entered the Camarvan. Fundy stood at the sink, washing, but then suddenly faced her, his gaze intense.
"Do you want to stay here? Like, live here?"
Nihachu sighed. "I-I don't know. I need to...I need to think about it." She took a deep breath. "I really like it here. It's nice to have someone to talk to...Tubbo is funny and interesting. Tommy is...interesting. Not in a bad way. I'm-I'm not sure how I feel about Wilbur."
"Why?"
She looked away, feeling her blush heating up her face. Her fingers tightened around the dishes. "Um...well..." She thought about his hands on her arms as he helped her up from her tumble into the ocean, and she felt the blush reach her ears.
Fundy's gaze flickered over her, as if he knew what she was thinking. "Wilbur's an idealistic person. He has a lot to deal with, and a lot to do. And he can't be too careful."
The beginnings of a sad smile found its way onto Nihachu's lips. "Does he not trust me?" I shouldn't care.
"I don't know. We just came out of a war."
She didn't say anything for a moment. "Do you trust me?"
He looked surprised. "Of course, I do. You're–" He stopped. "You're sincere. I can tell."
She didn't know how she felt about that. She deposited the dishes on the counter beside Fundy. "Would Wilbur let me stay here?"
One of the long ears twitched. "I'm sure he would."
"Where would I live, though? I can't stay in your kitchen forever."
Fundy thought. "Wilbur keeps saying we will build houses, but it still hasn't happened yet. But we can build you a house!"
Nihachu bit her bottom lip. "I need to think about it."
Fundy nodded. "I understand." Then he brightened. "Why don't I show you how to make the profiteroles now?"
The cream puffs were deliciously fun to make, but they didn't stop there. Nihachu wondered if Fundy did anything besides cook and bake as she helped him prepare dinner–German Rouladen and Dutch huzarensalade, with fresh profiteroles for dessert, of course, all washed down with many refills of strong coffee and light tea. Everyone seemed to enjoy it, especially Tubbo, who looked a little rounder as they all settled back in their seats after eating their fill.
"Let's play poker now," said Tommy, but then Wilbur took down an old, beaten guitar from the shelf above the table.
"How about a song?" he asked.
"Oh, yes!" Nihachu cried.
Tommy grumbled. "You an' your songs, Will."
Wilbur ignored the boy, but held the instrument off to one side of his chair, not ready to play yet. "Do you like dancing, Niki?"
Nihachu couldn't help smiling back. "Yes, actually I do."
Dancing with my dear friend that night, twirling barefoot in the wet grass thick with stars. "You must write to me, Niki, when you dance with a boy for the first time."
"I will."
"Let's go outside then," said Wilbur, standing. "There's light yet, and there will be more room."
Nihachu followed the boys outside, but her heart pounded at the thought of dancing in front of them all. She had an idea, but she wasn't certain of it, wondering if it was too soon. What if he didn't consider her his friend yet?
They gathered in a small circle on the grass, the tall, deep shadows of the walls surrounding them, making the place feel darker than it actually was. The tops of the white towers could just be seen, an affront to the little country–but an empty one. In spite of the hole earlier, it was difficult to imagine anything bringing those walls down. Above them, the clouds were streaked with fire, softened by edges of rose. Nihachu turned to Fundy and made herself speak. "Fundy, would you...dance with me, please?"
He looked delighted. "Yes, of course."
She'll have her letter.
Wilbur sat in the grass, Tommy and Tubbo beside him. They all gazed up at Nihachu and Fundy, expectant, and Nihachu wished she had declined when Wilbur had asked her, but no going back now. Nihachu waited for Fundy to start, but he did nothing, just stood there, looking down at her with sweet, innocent delight. She held out her hands. Fundy folded her fingers inside his own and squeezed them. Wilbur began to strum over the guitar's strings, but still Fundy did nothing.
"Do you know how to dance?" Nihachu whispered.
Still smiling, "Nope."
"Just–" She thought. "Feel the music. Let it carry you."
He laughed. "I'll try. I'm not very musically inclined, though."
"Then...do what I do. Go with me."
The smile grew. "All right."
Wilbur sang, in a quiet, melancholic voice that strung through the air like a bird. Nihachu expected Fundy to be an awkward dancer at best, but he surprised her with his grace, fluid movements, and ability to match up with her so closely, she doubted the others noticed the split-second delay between them. Tommy and Tubbo joined Wilbur in the choruses, and she could see them all singing this song before, on warm summer evenings like this.
"I wish I was on yonder hill.
'Tis there I'd sit and cry my fill,
And every tear would turn a mill.
And safe for forever may my darling be.
Come, come, come, my love,
Come now swiftly, come to me.
Come, and faraway we shall flee.
And safe forever may my darling be.
I'll dye all my clothing, I'll dye them red,
And 'round the world I'll beg my bread,
Until my parents shall wish me dead.
And safe forever may my darling be.
Come, come, come, my love,
Come now swiftly, come to me.
Come, and faraway we shall flee.
And safe forever may my darling be..."
Nihachu glanced at Wilbur then, and found his gaze already on her, such unreserved joy and brightness in them, she had to look away. Her chest filled with warmth, and her steps faltered. Fundy matched her, but he must have noticed, because she saw his questioning look in the fading light. Out of the corner of her eyes, Wilbur still watched her. A line from a song she'd heard once wafted through her head: "Turn your eyes away..."
Each day cast new washes of color over the world for Nihachu–playing card games with Tommy and Tubbo, cooking with Fundy, and that sun-drenched afternoon on the third day when she and Wilbur went down to the beach to explore the caves in the vine-strung sea cliffs.
He's not for you, Niki. He made drugs. He smokes. He doesn't believe what you believe.
All the while, a painful knot grew in her stomach. She knew it could only partially be attributed to the ever-present sorrow of knowing she would have to leave eventually. More than that, she knew it stemmed from her reluctance to leave. I can't stay.
But a human will is strong, and though His creations may grieve Him, God gave them freedom to do as they wish–at least, for a time.
I'm so tired of not belonging.
Maybe it was because there were only four of them. Maybe it was because of the sad beauty of the country. Maybe it was because she was tired of traveling, and this was the first place in a long time that she actually liked. She already felt like she belonged here, as if all her wanderings had been leading her to the great black walls of L'Manberg. Maybe it was because of Fundy, fox ears and all, who understood–and accepted–her as few before had.
But she already knew it was mostly because of Wilbur.
Something about him drew Nihachu. It was his strong, confident demeanor, something she so admired and desired for herself. It was–and she had to admit this, even to herself–it was his bad-boy air, from the dramatic curling bangs in his eyes to the implicating cigarette poised between his fingers. But most of all, it was his unwavering stance on peace and freedom. In spite of hardship and oppression, he still stood up for what he believed in.
Why is it wrong to stay because of him?
They were potion-dealers–who knows what they'll do next. He's not for me. I should go back to the town without a beauty salon. At least they had a church.
I know I've just met him. I know I'm not actually in love, this is just what they call a crush. But I think he likes me!
How could he like me? He only just met me, too. If he's at all interested in me, it's also just a crush.
And what's wrong with that? They probably don't make drugs anymore. Smoking isn't all that bad, really. They say you can't change people, but I can be a good influence on him. Maybe he can change.
She shook her head violently, as if shaking off the penetrating thoughts. She needed to do something, to distract herself. For once, she found herself alone, though she knew from the cast of the light outside the kitchen that Fundy would soon come in and make dinner. After the cave exploration with Wilbur, not to mention all the other activities they had kept her busy with, she had needed some time to herself. Now she wanted company.
Nihachu settled herself at the breakfast nook and took her notebook from her rucksack. Her letter to her friend was still inside, not because she couldn't mail it or doubted the L'Manbergian postal system–which involved one certain friendly enderman, strangely enough. No, she felt deep in her heart that her friend wouldn't approve of her actions. Nihachu didn't like thinking about it, and quickly flipped over that page in her notebook. If I'm going to leave...or stay...I want to give them something, contribute in some way. She sketched a few designs on a blank page. They don't have a flag...I can make them one. Or at least give them some ideas. How to design a flag, though? She wanted each part of it to mean something. Colors...colors held symbolism. She dug back into her rucksack for more pencils. What did L'Manberg symbolize?
Freedom. Peace. At what cost? No one had died in the war, but there had been loss nonetheless. And in spite of this, they stood fast, rebuilt, grew. The walls might not keep everything out, but they represented something vital to L'Manberg. Nihachu knew what to do.
The door creaked open. "Niki! I have a surprise for you!"
Nihachu turned in her seat. Fundy stood in the doorway holding a large dog with reddish fur.
"Oh!"
Fundy entered the kitchen and lowered the dog onto the floor. It ran up to Nihachu, sniffed her hand, nuzzled her leg. She stroked its head and rubbed its silky ears between her fingers. It looked rather like a fox, with its long, pointed black muzzle and sharp ears. "What is..."
"He's for you. Doesn't he look like a fox? I would have gotten you a fox, but..."
"No, he's perfect!" A fox! Fundy, what are you doing? Now I can't leave. "Where did you get him?"
Fundy looked hurt. "That's a secret. He's for you. That's what's important."
Nihachu didn't know what to say. She focused on the dog, fondling his head, feeling his warmth beneath his fur.
"Are you drawing?" asked Fundy, sidling up beside her, careful to stay out of her light. "What is it?"
Nihachu closed the notebook with her free hand. "You'll see later."
"All right. I'm going to make dinner now, if it doesn't bother you."
"You never bother me, Fundy."
He smiled. He lit a dozen or so of the candles, though the open window made them unnecessary, and began setting out ingredients for Dutch hachee. Nihachu watched him, still playing with the dog's ears.
"What will you name him?" Fundy asked.
The dog twisted away from her hand and licked her fingers. "You gave him to me," she said, thinking. "I want to always remember that."
Fundy, searching for bowls in the cabinet under the sink, let out a little laugh.
"I will name him...Fungie."
Something metal clattered. "What?"
"Fungie. A bit like your name."
Fundy crawled out from under the sink and stood, holding two metal bowls. "Like my name?" he breathed.
Now she laughed. "Yes. Because you gave him to me, and he looks like a fox." She hesitated. "Is that weird?"
"N-No. Not at all." He shook his head, then nodded, mouth strained as though trying not to laugh, or cry, Nihachu couldn't tell. "Like my name."
Nihachu leaned against the chair and gazed up at the ceiling, "What more do you all plan to do with L'Manberg? Will you build more things outside the walls?"
"Dream doesn't want us to expand," said Fundy. He removed his gloves, then extracted a slab of meat from the icebox and began cubing it. "We still have room inside."
"Why doesn't he want you to expand?"
"He's probably afraid we'll take over everything."
Nihachu thought about this. The land was so wide and uninhabited. Did Dream plan on growing so great that he would need all of it? Or was it more of a show of power, of dominance, like the towers? "The docks are outside. As is your farm."
"They're so out of the way, I don't think Dream cares."
"I love the cliffs. Those vines will be so beautiful in the spring." Fungie rubbed against her leg again, and she filled her hands with his head. "You could build a lovely little house right up against the cliffs. Or even into the caves."
Fundy did not say anything for a long moment. Now he chopped onions. Nihachu glanced at the designs in her notebook. I don't want to leave. "Don't forget your way, Niki."
"I'm staying," she said aloud before really coming to the decision to speak.
Fundy faced her, a huge grin breaking across his face. "Really?"
"Yes. I'm tired of wandering. I'm staying." The relief of the words filled her, even as the guilt stewed them into a boil.
Fundy ran the faucet, washed his hands, wiped them on his coat, and turned back to her, suddenly breathing hard and looking like he might burst out singing or take off running at any moment. He reached out and grabbed her hand, his own slick with sweat. Is he nervous? Why? "We need to go tell the others."
Right now? "Okay."
She tucked the notebook under her arm, he blew out the candles, and they sprinted outside, up to the western gates, Fungie bounding behind them, tongue swinging like a pendulum from his mouth. Wilbur stood beside the gatehouse, gazing up at the sky, apparently lost in great, presidential thoughts. He turned as they approached. "Is something wrong?" He noticed Fungie. "What's this?"
"Let's let Nihachu join us," gasped Fundy as they stopped in front of him. "I gave the dog to her."
Wilbur regarded them with a skeptical expression. Nihachu stiffened. This was all happening so fast. But what else should she do? It was hardly practical to live out of that tiny kitchen while she made up her mind about the place. Though she'd have to stay there anyway while they built her house. Excuses. Fungie stood beside her, the top of his head brushing her fingertips. He already knew who he belonged to. I want to belong.
"She hasn't even been here a week," said Wilbur.
Was I wrong about him? Does he not want me to be here? Nihachu spoke. "If–if I don't like it here, I'll leave. Or if you don't like me, I'll leave, too. But I don't want to wander around anymore. I want to belong somewhere."
Wilbur said nothing, though the corner of his mouth flickered, like he was thinking of smiling.
"It would be good for L'Manberg to have a girl," added Fundy. "She's very smart. She'd be a good asset."
Nihachu blushed.
Wilbur still said nothing.
Nihachu flipped open her notebook. "You don't have a flag, right?"
"No." Wilbur chewed on the end of the cigarette. "We do want to acquire a flag someday, but we just haven't had the time..."
"I can make you a flag," Nihachu said. She held the notebook out. Fundy and Wilbur leaned over it.
Wilbur nodded. "Are you certain?"
"Yes. And–" she turned to Fundy "–we can start a bakery."
Fundy's eyes shone. "That would be amazing. Maybe we can build it down by the cliffs. And I can order you your own revolutionary uniform!"
Wilbur kept nodding. "I know that Tommy and Tubbo want you to stay." He took a deep breath, turned his head to look up at the sky, at the burning blue tearing through the clouds. He said nothing for such a long time, Nihachu felt her stray doubts strengthen, even as she came to the conviction that there could be nothing else in this world right now, nothing but this little peninsula country and the five of them, beneath these torn clouds, these broken skies. Wilbur lowered his head, but then he smiled, and Nihachu took in a shuddering breath, hoping he would say what she thought he would say. "If no one is opposed to Miss Nihachu joining our numbers, then she is hereby inducted as a citizen of L'Manberg."
Fundy caught her up in a hug and spun her around in the grass, the notebook falling from her hands. Nihachu gasped, but she couldn't help laughing. Fungie ran alongside them, barking. Fundy set her down, flushed, but happy, his arms still around her. "I'm sorry."
"No, it's okay." When was the last time someone hugged her? Picked her up? Looked like they cared? Long and long ago. I belong. A warm flood of happiness filled her heart as she realized that maybe she had finally come home–
What am I doing?
Welcome back everyone! I hope you enjoy this next installment in our story.
As before, I want to give a disclaimer that this story is based off of the Dream SMP and is not a direct novelization. VAERYS and I are aware that we have made a lot of changes to the original story. Along those same lines, the characters portrayed are our own versions of the DSMP characters, and are in no way supposed to represent the actual MCYTs behind them.
Thank you for the support!
God bless,
Unicadia and VAERYS
