The Comforting Maestro

A Balan Wonderworld Story

Hey all, DisneySonic1991 here. So, if some of you know about my art, you may have seen that I recently drew a small vent/comfort piece with my OC, Krystal being comforted by Balan, from the recent title Balan Wonderworld. I've become thoroughly invested in the characters from that game and felt the game's theme would lend itself nicely to a comfort fic. This is in the canon where Krystal is dating Paris the Puppet, so he'll be here.

A slight trigger warning for mentions of suicide.

With that being said, let's begin.


Chapter 1: The Theatre

7pm, that's the time that read on Krystal's phone as she walked through the darkened city streets. She'd met someone earlier, a friend she once knew. But, at this time, she was no longer a friend. She shook her head, tears forming in her eyes, causing her glasses to fog up.

When she had met this individual, Krystal had ran, ran as fast as she could to get away from them, to which this friend chased them in response. That, was hours ago. But this, this whole incident had been going on for months, seven if Krystal remembered correctly.

She was carrying a bag in her hands, and something inside of it moved. She stopped, kneeling down to look into it, coming face to face with a familiar person. Or in this case, a puppet; Paris.

He looked up at her, his blood red eyes watching her with concern.

"Krystal," he finally said.

He'd been with Krystal when they came into contact with this friend. He saw the colour fade from Krystal immediately upon seeing her, he knew how much this upset her.

There was a steady stream of tears falling from Krystal's eyes now and onto Paris' head. He sighed, pulling himself out of the bag.

Krystal suddenly felt a familiar hand on her shoulder; snow white skin with red painted nails. She looked up, right into his face; white skin, blood red eyes, red cheeks and jet black hair. He wore a fancy black suit, with white on the ends of the pants, a white undershirt and a red bowtie to match his eyes.

She loved him, despite being an Asexual.

He pulled her closer to his body, arms wrapped around her body, stroking her hair. His head was above hers, as he was taller than her; she was 5"7 while he was 5"11.

"It's alright," he assured her. "She's gone, we lost her."

Krystal still sobbed though. "I just want this to stop, Paris." She replied, face against his suit jacket. "This is so difficult."

He nodded in response. While in truth, they had met before this whole thing started, Paris watched Krystal struggle throughout the whole seven months. It sickened him, how someone could do this, and for that length of time.

He cupped a hand under her chin, a faint smile covering his face. "I know Krystal, I know." He linked his arm around her waist. "Let's get you home."

Krystal sniffed, and nodded. Right now, she just wanted to go home, and rest, away from this episode. As they walked, Paris would periodically check any suspicious alleyways to see if that friend was following them.

While they walked, Krystal's phone rang a few times from text messages. Paris was the one holding it so, he checked the messages. There was a few messages from her friends, back when she stayed at Disneyland. He opened a group chat and read through the messages.

Jiminy: Hey, is everything okay, Krystal?

Will: You alright, Krystal? When we called earlier it seemed like a bad situation.

Ristar: Everything alright?

Shard: What happened?

Paris, who Krystal had added to this group, responded with his own comments.

Paris: Krystal had an encounter with that friend.

Sparkster: The one she blocked back a few months ago?

Paris: Yes.

Will: Yikes. How long has it been? Seven months now? :0

Ristar: Yeah, I think so.

Shard: She's still going? :0

Jiminy: Apparently so.

Zero: That's awful. _

Shard: Yeah, it sucks. -_-

Will: Well, tell Krystal we're worried about her, k?

Paris: Don't worry, I will. :)

Zero: Hope everything works out okay for her.

Putting the phone away, he ran his hand through her hair. "Your friends were asking about you in the group chat. They're all worried about you."

She looked at the messages, smiling a bit. "They're all so sweet."

She saw Zero, her ex-boyfriend's messages. They had broken up a few years ago, both mutually agreeing they need to see other people. They still spoke often, as friends, and even Zero was okay with Krystal dating Paris.

Then, something caught their attention; a small, fat bird-like creature hopping along the ground. Its coat was a soft shade of blue and it had a pair of what appeared to be rabbit ears. It chirped happily, staring at them.

"What is that?" Krystal asked.

"I have no idea," Paris replied, walking past it. They barely got two feet away from it, when it bound towards them again, chirping at them to get their attention.

Paris grumbled at the creature, which jumped up and down in front of him, as of trying to get them to follow it.

"What does it want?" Paris asked, getting visibly irritated.

"I think it wants us to follow it,"

The creature chirped in response, heading back the way they came. It stopped in the start of an alleyway, looking down it. Paris approached it, Krystal holding his hand tightly.

Paris looked down the alley, noticing an old theatre facade. It looked old, the sign above the door barely even legible, only showing the word "theatre" was lit up. The creature was on the steps jumping up and down, as if telling them to come this way.

"Never seen this before in the city," Krystal said, taking in the sight. "I've passed this street multiple times and never seen it."

"I must admit, it is quite strange." Paris admitted, folding his arms. "But why did that creature bring us here, to an abandoned, clearly dilapidated building? Seems a bit suspicious."

"How so?"

"That friend could be hiding in there, waiting to jump you."

Krystal stared at him. "We barely knew this place existed until now, I doubt she knows about this place."

"That's precisely my point! If she knew about this place before us, she could use it to find you."

"If that's the case, what does that creature have to with it? Maybe it lives here? I doubt it has to do with her."

The creature chirped in response, smiling, its eyes looking at the door.

Krystal looked at the door, pulling away to take a look inside.

"Krystal, wait!"

"I just want to take a look inside, that's all. You know I like musicals."

"Yes, but-"

Krystal didn't listen, pushing the door open gently. "Such a strange girl..." he sighed as he followed after her.

Stepping into the foyer, there was a red carpet on the floor, with posters on the wall advertising shows. The place looked fine, all things considered, aside from a broken mirror on the wall on the right-hand side as you came in.

Paris had to admit, it was impressive. He saw Krystal walking down the hallway, leading into the main theatre area. He jogged up to her as she reached the door.

She pulled the door open, leading into an area with a large stage, with beautiful red curtains, ready for a show. Around it, were tables and chairs dotted around the room.

Near the stage, was a chair, with a strange figure sitting in it. They were wearing a white suit with gold accents, red on the ends of the sleeves, and a large top hat. They also looked really, really tall.

As they stared, the figure turned to them, a large, Cheshire Cat-like grin spreading across their face.

"Krystal," Paris whispered. "We should-"

He was barely able to finish the sentence when the figure stood up, and approached them. Paris grasped Krystal's arm protectively as they approached.

Once the figure was in front of them, they realised just how tall they were. They were taller than Paris, by a considerable amount.

"Hello," the figure said, bowing in a showman-like manner. "And welcome to my theatre!"

Paris stared. "Who are you?"

The figure gave a small laugh. "Ah, my apologies, I haven't even introduced myself." He did a small twirl. "I am Maestro Balan, but you can call me Balan for short."

"Weird name," Paris dead-panned.

Balan tilted his head. Ignoring the comment, he turned to Krystal, then glanced to Paris. "And what about you two?"

"I'm Krystal, and this is Paris." Krystal said, gesturing to Paris, who simply nodded in response.

"Ah, such a beautiful name, Krystal." Balan replied, shaking her hand. "So tell me, what brings you to my theatre?"

"This is your theatre?" Paris questioned, raising an eyebrow.

Balan nodded. "Correct, my pale-skinned friend. Now, what brings you two here?"

"We followed this weird little bird creature into your theatre," Krystal explained.

"You mean this?" Balan asked, picking up the creature they saw before.

"Yeah, that's the one, what is it anyway?"

"This, my dear is called a Tim."

Krystal blinked. "A Tim?"

Balan nodded in response. "It must've found you, knowing you need help."

"Wait, how did you-"

"Know of your troubles? That's why the theatre appears to people. Or, I guess hedgehogs in your case."

Paris stepped forward. "This theatre only appears to people when they need it? Can you please explain?"

Balan's smile grew wider. "Gladly!" He snapped his fingers as two chairs appeared behind Krystal and Paris, gesturing for them to sit.

"You see, this theatre is a gateway to another world, when the positive and negative emotions in people's hearts goes out of balance. That, is when my theatre appears, to take them to Wonderworld, to reinstate the balance.

As for why your emotions may be out of balance, it may be a multitude of different things that cause it; an argument with a friend, the loss of a family member, a tragedy in your life, the list goes on. Does that answer your question?"

Krystal nodded.

Balan approached Krystal, holding a hand over her chest. "Hm, strange, you don't seem to be missing a piece of your heart, like all the other visitors I've had? And yet, it seems damaged. Very strange indeed."

Krystal froze. Being simply reminded of what happened a few hours ago, made her even sadder than she was previously, allowing tears to flow freely again from her.

Seeing this, Paris wrapped his arm around her, all while Balan, looked on in confusion. "Is everything okay? Did I upset her?" He asked.

"No, it's not you," Paris explained, holding Krystal's hand. "We just had an incident earlier today and she's a bit sensitive about it."

"I see," Balan replied, watching Krystal with concern. "I take it she'd rather not discuss it?"

Krystal merely shook her head in response.

Balan nodded. "I understand. Matters like this can be a very touchy subject for some. Perhaps, you'd like to lay down for a bit?"

She nodded again in response. She really didn't want to discuss her situation. It was practically written all over her face.

Balan held out a hand to her, beckoning her to follow him. She followed behind him, walking past the stage and down another hallway, full of doors. They stopped at one, and Balan opened it, revealing a small bedroom. A double bed with and a chest of drawers.

"Stay here for a while, Krystal." Balan explained to her, gesturing to the bed. "You look exhausted."

"Thanks," Krystal replied, removing the backpack she'd been carrying onto the floor. Sitting on the bed, it was incredibly soft and comfy. She turned and looked in the doorway, seeing a few Tims looking at her, making sad chirping noises.

"Keep her company," Balan told them, to which a pink one with a star patch on one side of its face, chirped in response, hopping onto the bed where Krystal was.

Seeing everything was okay, Balan closed the door, heading back to the stage, with Paris following after him. Once they reached the stage, Balan picked up a chair for Paris to sit on, and he did the same.

As the two sat, Balan decided to ask Paris what had happened. He seemed to know Krystal well enough so, he'd know.

"Paris?" he questioned.

"Yes?"

The maestro put his hands together. "I don't wish to pry but, your friend seemed...how can I put this? Depressed back there. What happened?"

Paris raised an eyebrow. "That's a rather touchy subject."

"I know, but if the theatre has appeared to her, it's my duty to assist."

Paris grumbled something under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I get that you're trying to help, but Krystal is trying to forget about it."

"Trying to forget won't help her issue, Paris. I wanted to ask you, since she seemed unwilling to talk, and I didn't want to stress her out."

Paris stared. This, for lack of a better term, weirdo, wanted to talk about this. He wanted to help, and seemed determined to do so. He looked up at the hat he was wearing, noting the pleading look in his yellow eyes.

Despite how ridiculous he looked, his tone of voice and eyes seemed genuine.

Maybe he should tell him.

Sighing, Paris stood up, removing his jacket, before folding it neatly on the chair. "Very well, maestro, I'll tell you."