Chapter Text
| Prologue — Left On Delivered |
This was a week ago — the last time Coco talked with Agott.
She stared at the text, the noise of the classroom muffled by her troubled mind. Where are you? She knit her eyebrows together. Coco has never been much of a thinker. Not by choice. That was Agott's job. But she was missing now, for an entire week, and no one in the neighborhood had a clue. The local police were useless, sending search parties in the forest, coming out with nothing just like every other day. Where could you be?
Rumors have already spread. That Agott ran away. That she couldn't take on the responsibility of her family.
That she was dead.
Coco shivered, hair rising. No, no, no, don't think about that. She turned off her phone, a drizzle patting the classroom window. The droplets raced down the glass, slowly but surely, Coco wondering who would win. There's no use worrying. Thunder roared, gray clouds closing in from afar. I'll go look again when class ends. After the first three days, she'd already printed multiple missing posters. Richeh and Tetia helped too. Mr. Qifrey, their homeroom teacher. And Olruggio, though as intimidating as he was, assisted as well.
We're all trying, Agott. She stared outside, a blur of rain and fog. You're out there. Somewhere. I'll find you.
That was a promise.
Then it happened.
A crackle of lightning — and Coco glimpsed something in the distance. A flash of black, some flicker of movement in the clouds, and a split second where it almost resembled a giant bird flying.
It vanished faster than it appeared, leaving Coco's imagination to pick up the pieces. I must be tired. I'm beginning to imagine things now. She peeled her gaze away, finding her notebook instead, where she drew the layout of the neighborhood — circling and crossing off the spots she has and hasn't searched over. Right—that place. I haven't tried there.
She hoped the rain would let up.
─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─
It didn't.
It was a sad day for rain.
Coco clutched the umbrella, fingers tight, pulling the hood of her raincoat over her eyes. It wasn't enough that the wind ruffled the branches, or the sky drumming with thunder. A storm was coming, or so she was told. It didn't matter either way. Getting a little wet wasn't a cause for worry after all. You're probably in worser condition. Her thoughts drifted to Agott as she crossed the street, red stop light blurring as cars swiveled home. Don't worry. Just a little bit more. Lightning snapped in the distance. You're going to be safe.
The junkyard, however, was closed.
She stared at it — the heavy chains covered in rust, locking the gate from any trespassers.
If Tetia was here, she'd probably find a way to climb over. As for Richech, well, if you couldn't go up, why not try down? The fence was too high, though. And there weren't any burrows she could crawl under as well. It seemed as if Fate wanted her to turn around. Begone, it was trying to say, your friend isn't here. But Coco was beyond reasoning now. And Fate couldn't do anything about that.
She clasped the chain-link, rain pouring down her skin, testing its weight. A bit loose, yes, but I think If I just—
Teeth.
Claws.
And growling.
The guard dog barelled against the fence, suprising Coco. She fell on her butt, losing the umbrella. It bared its teeth towards her, clawing at the metal fence, saliva dripping from its jaws.
Coco stared, long and hard and trembling, rooted on the spot. That was. . . Her fingers dug against the mud, fighting the tremor. It could've ended badly if she went all the way. A few scratches, maybe. Rabies, if it came to it.
There was a word stuck on her mind, though. A scarier word she didn't like thinking about.
Get up. She tried, stumbling. You can't quit. Not now. She found her umbrella. It was coated with grime but it was fine. Agott needs you.
But did she?
Doubt crept in Coco's mind. The barking didn't help. Niether did the rain. Or the way she was covered in mud now. Or that there was dirt in her nails, too. The first rule of running away — never looking back. Agott was gone. She's not in town. Not anywhere Coco can reach. And she's not coming back. Why couldn't Coco understand that? Why can't she accept that? She had to. There's no other way.
But. . . Coco did not know anymore. I hate it. Which were her tears? That I'm helpless again. And which were the rains'? I'm the one lost without you, Agott.
She prayed no one was going to kill her for being a small, ignorant girl against a big world she did not understand.
She stared at the messages.
Oh.
Today was Thursday.
Raindrops fell on the plastic ziplock containing her phone. Coco knew the signal here wasn't strong enough to send a reply. Not that she was going to, at least. Or that she'd get a response. I'm gonna be okay, Mom. She gazed at the dog one last time, fur slicked against its skin, clinging to its large frame. I'm just a little lost. She turned away, boots digging into the dirt. But not afraid. Not in any way that mattered.
Lightning clapped overhead.
The barking stopped.
Coco felt a hot prickle on her nape, some searing tingle she couldn't quite name. At first, she thought of thunder, but nothing happened after several moments. Finally looking back, she noticed the guard dog was no where to be seen, pawprints trailing away deeper into the junkyard. Where has it gone to? No, there was a better question. What scared it away? She didn't know. Might've been the lightning. Might've hated the rain.
Might've been something else, too.
Eyebrows knit together, Coco stalked towards the fence, taking careful steps. It was quiet, save for the downpour. The canine was gone, and she didn't know if it was something to celebrate about. On one hand, she could climb the gate safely this time. On the other, well, it wouldn't bite someone to be cautious.
There, just at the far-side of the gate — footprints, or at least, what was left of them. Coco followed, shoes digging against the damp grass, watching it make way to a desire path into the forest. She stopped at the outskirts. The police haven't searched here, have they? She wasn't sure. It wouldn't hurt to double check, though. Coco inhaled — exhaled, tightening her grip on her umbrella.
A treehouse.
Whoa. She found herself in a clearing, the trees getting thicker as she delved into the depths of the woods. Looking back, she could still make out a glimpse of the junkyard. Good, I'm not too far. In order not to get lost, Coco gathered a couple of rocks, dropping them as she stalked deeper, leaving a trail she would use later on. It's huge. Bigger than our's.
Approaching the ladder, Coco left her umbrella by the roots, putting one foot after the other as she climbed.
The trap door gave away after a few struggles. Inside, it was dimy lit from the open window, the wooden floor creaking. Coco took off the hood of her raincoat, running a hand up her wet, disheveled hair. There was a table in the center, worn chairs lining the corners. On it, papers and books and cups laid open, a candle untouched. Is this where you've been, Agott?
Carefully, Coco examined the documents, noticing drawings and sketches of mismatched figures — filling entire pages. What is this—? She accidentally knocked off a mug. It shattered, warm tea sipping into the wood. That's. . . strange.
Warm meant recency.
A crackle of lightning flashed, and Coco noticed something.
On the walls.
Against the floor.
The ceiling — everywhere.
Clawmarks.
It pierced the lumber, jagged edges that sunk, sharp enough to tear flesh. Coco faltered, wide eyed. Blood, too. It clung along the scratches. What happened here? Images raced in her mind. A bear? No, it couldn't have gotten this high. A wolf, maybe? There hasn't been any sightings for years. Then what? The rain screamed outside. Coco's breathing grew heavy. Calm down. I need to calm down. She fumbled for her phone, tearing it out of the plastic ziplock. I have to call Mr. Qifrey and the others—I need to—
Outside the window.
There was a figure by the trees.
Her phone buzzed.
Agott.
It was Agott.
Coco didn't remember going down. It was a blur. A haze, you could say. Nothing mattered more than Agott right now. Not even the clawmarks, or the heavy downpour, or the booming thunder. She found her footing, stumbling along the wet grass, hands itchy. But for what? For warmth. "You're here," she stopped where the rain couldn't reach her. "We've been—I've been looking everywhere."
"I know,"
"The others—Richeh, Tetia, Mr. Qifrey—they've been worried."
"I know,"
"I've been worried."
Agott was silent. She was too far away, sheltered under the trees. For several seconds, only the rain talked. ". . .you should leave, Coco. Now."
"W—what?" She tried taking a step forward, only to be stopped by Agott's shout.
"I said leave!" Her voice cut through the noise, growling. It was enough to scare away crows from their canopies. "It's not. . ." Agott's voice faltered. ". . .not safe here. With me around."
You don't mean that. Coco didn't understand. Don't be stubborn. I'm not going alone, she wanted to say, taking another step. Our promise. Did you forget it already? Then another. And another. "Agott," My Agott. "Come on." She reached her hand out, not caring how cold the rain prickled her skin. "Let's go home." A smile. "You and me." That was their promise, wasn't it? Three years ago. "Together."
Agott stared at Coco's extended hand. Those fingers. Calluses she once savored. So close yet so far. "You wouldn’t understand," she hugged herself. "What this is. What’s happening inside me." She didn't meet Coco's eyes. Couldn't. Shouldn't. Wouldn't. "I don’t know it either."
"We can—"
"No we can't!"
Her hand faltered, the words dying in her throat. "But I'm here," I'm finally here. "Lean on me if you need fixing."
Agott wasn't listening. "But you can't fix me, Coco." She whispered, more to herself than to anyone. "What if I’m trying to fight against something that already won a long time ago? What if I'm just not cut out for this?" Maybe she was broken, and no one can fix her. Not even love. Not even Coco's. "So please, just please—leave me alone." She fought the tears. "Before I hurt you too."
| Scene I — Soaring Where You're Not |
But there's nothing to explain. Agott watched Coco leave the forest, figure shrinking as the rain settled into a drizzle. Nothing that would make sense. She turned away, flexing her stiff fingers, making sure they hadn't fully transformed this time. I almost lost control again. Dark feathers lined her forearm. Faint, yes, but there. Enough to worry about. Coco, you always show up at the worst times, don't you? She started for the tree house. Now I need to find a cure before that meeting.
Inside, she noticed the broken mug first. Ugh, out of all of them, it had to be my favourite. Sighing, Agott lit the candle, using the light to clean the shattered pieces. Well, not that I'd need to hide in this place soon. She glimpsed her handiwork, the pages filled with drawings and prescriptions. Just a little bit more, and I'm going to be free again.
So naive.
Agott rolled her eyes. "No one invited you."
At the far corner, a shadow loomed, flickering from the flame of the candle. If you squinted closely, you'd find nothing. It was the void. An abyss. And it was daring her to gaze back. I'm not the one trapped here, Agott Arklaum.
"Just 'Agott' would be fine,"
It was silent. That girl, she's—
"None of your concern," There was an edge to her voice, enough to cut. "You're here to bother me again, aren't you? Leave. You're distracting me." She laid out the papers on the table, spreading them to make sense. "I already have enough on my plate at the moment, and you're just adding to the fuel."
I'm just as a part of you as you are a part of me.
She knit her eyebrows together. "You're nothing like—" Agott fell on her knees, a spasm of pain worming its way from her abdomen. She clutched her chest, lungs suddenly aching. It was hot. Everything. It's happening. She gripped one leg of the table, only for it to break from her strength. Documents clattered, candle extinguishing as it fell. The room was engulfed in darkness, leaving voices to haunt Agott's mind.
Stop fighting.
Never!
It's futile, all of this.
I don't—care!
Images flashed across her thoughts. Mr. Qifrey, he is a lullaby, a hum in the storm. Tetia, she is sugar and honey, sweet enough to poison you with joy. Richeh, she is pillows and cotton, always a soft echo.
And Coco.
Coco, Coco, Coco.
She's the first bloom of sunrise after the rain. She's the bright star twinkling in an empty night. She's the smudge of ink you don't realize you missed. She's the laughter in the silent prison of Agott's mind. And she hated it. Hated all of it.
Her touch. Her eyes.
Her lips. Her voice.
Her smile.
Everything Agott lost the moment she became this monster.
A scream tore through her throat, claws digging into the wooden floor. Knives. Sharp and never-ending, raking her spine, cutting her open. Stop, please. Stop this. She wasn't a monster. I'm not— Wings sprouted out of Agott's back, raven black feathers scattering. She covered her mouth, coughing out red. Breathe. I need to. . . The world tilted, smearing into blots of black and white. The stench of crickets, the noise of leaves — the taste of saliva and blood dripping down her chin.
Agott's senses were suddenly heightened.
And the only thing she wanted right now was to reach the horizon.
She flew out of the window, blinking away the sharp throb across her skin. The wind caressed her away, soaring up and up and up. She did not care about falling. That wasn't an issue in this form. Simply the sky — an everlasting freedom of it all. Take me, she thought, gliding against the breeze. Here in the clouds, she could be free.
But freedom had a price.
". . .no luck?"
Tetia.
Agott clenched her fists, focusing on the voice. They're close by. She flapped her wings, turning left then right, lost in the perpetual skyline, where vermilion bleed into a sunset. Truth be told, she'd been stalking her friends since learning how to fly. Only from a distance. Far enough that they wouldn't notice. But it seemed I wasn't careful enough. Agott was the curiosity, and Coco was the cat ready to be killed.
She descended, escaping the clutches of the clouds, the town enveloping before her. There. Mr. Qifrey's Datsun 100A, the crimson car crossing an intersection.
". . .no, I wasn't hurt, just. . ." Coco's voice echoed, dying as she went farther away.
Agott covered her ears, a pulsing headache beating against her skull, like a hammer and its nail. Pounding, pounding, and pounding. Ugh! Her wings wavered, losing its balance. She was forced to land on a nearby rooftop. Well, 'landing' was an overestimation of her new capabilities.
She crashed, yes, that was the better word.
Toppling on the cement floor, Agott used her feathers as protection, but even that wasn't enough. She hit the hanging laundries by their clothes line, smashing into a metal railing. It bent from the impact. Luckily, there weren't any broken bones. Not yet. She tore off a brown dress stuck to her feathers, watching the Datsun 100A turn into a street — eventually vanishing from her line of sight.
She imagined being in one of the seats, she's always called shotgun, though. Richeh's most likely asleep at the back. The thought made her smile. And Tetia's rehearsing her lines for the Drama Club. She gripped the crooked railing, the metal cold. Mr. Qifrey's fixing that broken radio again. I've already told him to let Mr. Olruggio handle it. The tears refused to spill. That was strange. Was she losing her humanity now? Bit by bit? Day by day — until she was engulfed into a mindless beast? "Coco," she tasted her name. "You're probably. . . probably. . ." The railing broke under her hold. I forgot. How can I forget?
You're supposed to.
"I thought I left you at the tree house." Agott glanced at the shadows created by the hanging laundry. "Go away."
Oh, soon. Very soon, I will. Patience, young one, the hour isn't upon us.
You can shove that hour in your throat for all I care. She inhaled — exhaled, feeling her wings shrink back into nothing. The feathers lining her skin began to fade, as if it was never there to begin with. I'll need a new pair of clothes again. Agott stared at the attires scattered by her feet. "You need to warn me when I transform next time."
She could feel it smile. And why should I?
"We both know the answer to that,"
Agott Arklaum, there is no escape towards the end of this tale. Silence. You are merely delaying the inevitable. And what of it? Come now, you know there is no cure.
She picked up a disheveled white cardigan missing a button. "I have too much to lose to give up right now." Then some chestnut ankle pants. "Not that you would know anything about that."
And you would?
"Save me your words," Agott started for the nearby stairwell, trying to find the bathroom to change. "What I want from you is simply to go away. Only that." She stopped at the edge. The sunset burned her skin, catching the locks of her hair. "Do not think of bothering me when I meet up with Coco tonight. It seems I can't rush the antidote without her getting in the way. Better to deal with her first and foremost."
That is a difficult request to follow. It replied. How about 'no'?
She knit her eyebrows together, pinching the bridge of her nose, something she learned from Olruggio of all people. "It seems I haven't been mistaken—you're nothing like me."
Oh but I am, the shadow diminished. I'm everything you want to be.
Her phone rang.
Agott stared at the text.
Her eyes fell on the date.
Oh, she thought. Today's Thursday.
| Scene II — Before Friday; After Wednesday |
There's a word in believing against the inevitable.
Denial. Coco passed through the same sliding doors, glass unwashed, though no janitor could see that it was dirty. Maybe optimism? The entrance guard nodded at her arrival, watering the tilted carnations. Maybe he thinks they'd find a way to grow back. Perhaps delusion? Coco stepped in-line, noticing the registrar arguing with a family member of a patient. There are always people like that — it didn't matter the time or the date. No, those don't fit.
It was finally her turn. "Hello," she said, voice dry. "I'd like to visit my mother, please." After getting an approval, Coco followed through her routine. Straight into the next corridor, turn left, then a right. Wave to the old lady. Next, climb the stairs. The elevator was always full regardless.
Lastly, stop at Room 525.
Her hand fell short from the knob, the silver reflecting her face.
Hope, yes, she remembered.
That was the word.
"It's me, Mom." The patient metrics pinged as she entered. "Sorry for being late," Coco dragged a nearby wooden stool to the edge of the bed, taking a seat. "I know, I know—you told me not to come because of the rain." She smiled, not reaching her eyes, fingers grazing the bedsheets. "But I came as soon as Mr. Qifrey dropped off Tetia and Richeh to their dorms." She placed her elbows, mattress dipping from the weight. "Did you miss me?"
One,
Three;
Five—
Seven seconds of silence.
Still, Coco went on. ". . .I found Agott," she said it like she hadn't promised not to tell anyone. This is different. "She's okay, I guess." You're not a gossiper, after all. Right, Mom? "It's just—I don't know, confusing?" Beep-beep, and beep-beep, the vital signs monitor sang. "I think she doesn't trust me." Beep-beep, oh beep-beep. "I get it." The sound was starting to get on her nerves. "I won't trust me either."
No reply.
"School's fine, if you're wondering." Coco pressed her forehead against the bed, the world shrinking into the stains on the hospital floor. "Mr. Qifrey's not giving me a hard time. I can't say the same with the other teachers, though." A pause. "But it's been fun." That wasn't true. "More than I thought it would be," Another one. "So I'm glad—sort of." But was she? Coco didn't know. She didn't know a lot of things, really.
She didn't know the answer to Mr. Olruggio's recitation yesterday, didn't know how to help Tetia for the class play, didn't know how to be as upfront as Richeh, didn't know where Agott was all this time.
And still, after all these years — she has no idea if she'll ever get her Mother back.
"When are you waking up?" There wasn't any rain to cover up her tears this time. "I'm waiting." Her fingers dug through the mattress, shaking. She didn't know why. Nor how to stop them. "I've been waiting." But they keep shaking. "For so long." Beep-beep, and beep-beep. "When are you coming back to me, Mom?" The noise was mocking her now. "Soon, I hope."
Another week? Another month? Year? Decade? A sharp pain in Coco's chest made her groan. I don't know if I'll last 'till then. It was her heart. If you'll wake up to see me again. The echo of it breaking. Because I'm not strong like Dad. She needed to stop thinking. Now. Right now. Nor as gentle as you either.
She was just Coco.
And to herself, that'll never be enough.
─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─
She ran.
Wind whistled past her ears, phone tight in her grasp, and Coco ran. I shouldn't have overslept. She cut through the park, knocking into shrubberies and hedges, twigs stuck to her hair. True to anyone's expectations, Coco has never been much of a runner. Her body wasn't made to endure. It was fragile the moment she was born. And it has stayed that way to this day. Still, that hadn't stopped her from doing stupid things.
It takes a rough estimate of twenty minutes from the hospital to the school.
Coco made it there in seven.
The stairs were her last straw, though. This is. . . she caught her breath, collapsing by the steps. The last floor, right? Sweat glistened across her temple. She grabbed the railing, using it to pull herself further. Just—a little bit more, and. . . A voice. It was Agott's. Was she talking to somebody? The possibility was slim, but it wasn't a zero, to say the least.
Then, before she could take another step, a sharp creak of the rooftop door ruined her plans in arriving unannounced. "You're rather late for someone who made the deal herself."
Coco flinched, looking up to see Agott waiting by the entryway. She scratched her nape, laughing off the embarrassment. "I forgot there aren't any buses this late into the night."
"You're awfully bad at lying,"
Her smile wavered, "That so?"
Agott turned, stopping at the center of the rooftop, white cardigan flying from the strong breeze. "Where do you want me to start?"
Straight to the point. Coco followed, still trying to catch her breath. You were never someone for small talk after all. "How about the very beginning?"
"Too far,"
"The tree house?"
"Too recent,"
Coco rolled her eyes. "Now?"
Agott smirked. "Then are you ready?" Wings sprouted out of her back, feathers catching the glint of the moon behind her. "To see all of what I truly am?"
Coco stared, eyes wide. She took a step back, trembling at the sight. This is what you've been hiding. But she changed her mind half-way. Honestly, I thought you hated me. She took a step closer. I thought you wanted me gone. Then another, and another. So is it selfish of me to be glad that you're not pushing me farther and farther? Until she was right in-front of Agott. It is, isn't it? She couldn't look anywhere else. Didn't want to, really. Because I would know your soul even if it was broken in pieces, and I'd spend this lifetime fixing you.
"You're at a loss for words as I expected," Agott's voice pulled her out of the daydream. "Terrified?"
She smiled, shaking her head. "No, not at all." Then added. "You have beautiful feathers by the way."
A flush crept up Agott's neck. She did well to cover it with her wings. "Sometimes you say the most unbelievable things. Aren't you shocked, even a little bit?"
"It's kinda awesome," So long as you won't push me away, I'll believe in anything. But her smile weakened, just a little bit that Agott wouldn't notice. I have things you don't want to believe in too.
"That's beside the point,"
Coco tilted her head, "And your point being. . ?"
"I—" Her voice faltered. "—need your help." Agott raised her pinky. "I need your help turning back to normal." Clearly, this was a bad idea. A very non-Agott sort of plan. But right now, something was telling her to follow her heart more than her brain. "So promise me something," there was a shortness to her breath. "No more secrets."
Coco blinked. You're the worst. Eventually, she brought her own pinky up, their fingers intertwining beneath the glow of moonlight. "Yeah," The worst to ever touch my heart. "No more secrets."
And that was her favourite lie.