I wake up and it takes me a few minutes to do it. For a while, I'm just staring at the wall and trying to stay warm in our bed, because I'm all alone in it. Either Kiril got up early, or...

No, he stayed up all night again.

Well, I rub my eyes and start getting dressed; there's no need to stay in bed all day, after all, and there was a nightmare lingering on my pillow. I rub my stomach and take a look at the lunar calendar hanging over the bed; the full moon was circled, Kiril must be taking an interest, since during the full moon will be the final selection.

Because of a bad dream, and because there isn't a soul upstairs I dash down the stairs and call out for them, "Irina! Kiril!"

"Huh?" He's only just waking up at his worktable. "Wha...t...?"

I hit him on the back of the head and he jolted upright with a yelp, me exclaiming, "You shouldn't stay up so late!" Fixing his glasses for him, I then added, "It's not good for your health, beloved."

"You worry too much about me...until you're queen of Levianta, I'll do as I like~."

I only smile at him, for his unending support. But if Irina was in the room, he wouldn't be saying such things, would he? I can smell breakfast in the kitchen and perhaps that's her, unable to hear his quiet murmurs over the snapping on the stove.

"I couldn't get much done, though," he was looking back at his work and giving a small sigh.

I bring my arms around his neck and rest my head on his, "Next time, I'm not going to bed until...you're with me...because it's cold up there."

"Oh, it's cold..."

"I smell something in the kitchen," my stomach is growling horribly now, I pull away and look to that other room. "Is that little sister making us food?"

"Someone has to," Irina called, in response. So, she could hear after all.

"I'm starving, let's go get something to eat, beloved."

"...Yeah," with another yawn he stood up with me and left the messy worktable behind.

I didn't eat that much this time; somehow I wasn't too hungry, losing my appetite on my first mouthful of potato pancake. But I made sure to give a lot to Kiril, since it was Irina making the pancakes.

"Big brother's getting pudgy thanks to you."

"Well, sure! I can't eat him unless he's fat enough, little sister."

"S-stop—I'm not fat!"

Today I felt a little nauseous, so I excused myself from breakfast early. It wasn't that I wanted to not spend time with these two—and there were only so many quiet days when we had our company to ourselves, but somehow the more we talked, the more uneasy I felt.

I tried to calm down looking through the shop window, Kiril and Irina cleaning up the dishes this time.

I saw running through the street a red cat.

I do know it, I've seen that cat somewhere before. But there is no other time I can pick out where I saw that cat...

It looked at me before running away, the sneaky thing.

We went to bed together, Kiril and me, only after it was very late. Irina had already gone to bed long ago, and Kiril and I stayed up late working on a doll he didn't finish the night before. It gave him a lot more trouble than usual. I think, like me, he's been distracted with the goings on lately.

He worked by the stairs, and kept glancing up like he too was anxious to go to bed, but the doll was rooting him in place as he affixed the gears and added screws.

I only sat next to him with sleepy eyes and rested my head on his shoulder. He said he'd be up there as soon as it was presentable, so why not wait?

Even if it was already growing late and he still hadn't finished yet, "Kiril, darling..."

"I'm almost done. Please be patient with me..."

"..."

The doll's painted face stared at me while a strange man worked on her insides, looking like a patient who was, horribly, wide awake to an unaware doctor. Then again, it couldn't be that horrible. There's no reason to put a doll to sleep if they have no nerve endings. If she had nerve endings, maybe she would start screaming at him to knock it off and go to sleep, stop causing her this pain and assembling her guts.

Her metal guts.

Sometimes I wondered if Kiril was having these kinds of thoughts as he put screws in his creations. That wasn't fair, though; if anyone was going to play doctor around here I wanted it to be me.

"Darling..."

"Almost there, I just..." there was another look to the stairway. "Can't go to sleep yet."

"I'm ready to smash that doll and drag you up there," I murmured into his shoulder, my eyes closing.

He chuckled, "Don't do that."

I don't remember much, only that when I peek my eyes back open the workings on the doll are still exposed. Even though it looks like she's complete, he still tinkers with the different gears and winds it up to see the little legs move and eyes blink. Unsatisfied, he tinkers again.

"...Kiril..."

"I'm almost..."

I dreamed about a doll that ate my hands and locked me in the closet, because I was the evil wife of a mad doctor who drew dragons in blood all over the stairwell. Irina turned into a mouse and ate the closet for me, but by then the doll was gone and so was the doctor.

They eloped without me.

When I woke up, I was at least in our own bed and not growing sore on the stairs. Buuut...Kiril was also gone from the bed.

I sighed, and went back to sleep.