When I came downstairs, I found a peculiar fox—and my mom with her face buried between its fluffy ears.
I have to admit, "came downstairs" is too strong a word. Dad carried me down, more like. But that didn't change the essence.
"What's going on here?"
"Oh, you're awake already?" Mom asked, lifting her head.
The fox turned—and immediately ran toward me. I even staggered a little when the creature decided to pounce.
Only… something was off. She was too wrong to be a real fox. Of course, the world outside could hide all sorts of bizarre things—and she was no exception—but everything screamed she wasn't real.
Actually, I didn't even need to look closely to realize it was Luisa.
Several emerald locks peeked out from the gaps in the hood. I'd seen them so often I should've stopped noticing long ago, but right now—how they fell in thin lines down the fluffy fox—somehow drew my gaze. And the tail stuck straight up, lazily swaying side to side as she ran.
If I didn't know who was hiding under that muzzle, I'd have thought the tail was real. Nature clearly made a mistake.
"I figured it'd be fair if you two had matching pajamas. But the ancient mur didn't really suit her personality," Mom explained, standing up and brushing off the hem of her dress.
"So you decided a mischievous fox fits her better?"
"Hey!"
Despite the light shove from Luisa, she looked extremely proud of herself.
"I don't know who you're talking about again, but this is Velarin."
"Oh… got it."
While Mom seemed completely indifferent to my words, Luisa looked intrigued, staring right into my face. She watched me like she was waiting for something.
As I kept looking at her a little longer, her face came closer again. I even started to think her animal nose had caught some scent in my mouth and she was about to leap right into it like a burrow.
Seriously, what's wrong with her?
"You… look really cute."
"There we go," she pulled back and nodded with satisfaction.
So that was the right answer?
I couldn't shake the feeling I'd just played some weird lottery.
I wonder—if I'd answered wrong, would she have bitten my leg and dragged me to her den like prey?
…No. Definitely not something I wanted to find out.
But her expectation didn't end there. She stepped back just a little, yet kept staring at me so intently I started feeling uneasy.
What else did she want from me?
"Want to touch the ears?"
When she suggested it, her eyes lit up like she'd been waiting for this from the start. Maybe the light just hit them right, but I mean literally—they sparkled like stars.
The question caught me off guard. I wasn't sure I was even supposed to do it.
And yet, reason and heart reached the same conclusion—of course I do.
I reached toward her lowered head and gently squeezed the pajama ears. The fluff first tickled my palms, then settled under my fingers, warm and yielding.
I think I'd been worrying for nothing.
Then her tiny paws landed on my cheeks, and she lifted her head.
There was something in her gaze… mischievous. So much that I froze.
My hands stayed suspended on her ears—awkward, motionless—like insects stuck in a trap. I suddenly felt hot just looking at her. All sorts of thoughts raced through my head, as if Luisa were an alien and I'd missed the moment I was supposed to figure out why she'd come.
I already felt out of place, even though nothing significant had happened yet. And nothing was supposed to… right?
"So? How are they?"
"How are what?"
"Your mom really sewed some awesome paws for me, huh?"
Velarin laughed and pulled her hands away from my face. And with that, for some reason, everything felt empty—like all the emotions had suddenly drained out of me.
It would've been fairer if she'd warned me about these sudden impulses in advance.
Though… then it probably wouldn't have been the same.
Am I an idiot? What am I even…
Never mind.
"Y-yeah. Really cool."
Right after that, cold and rough hands landed on my cheeks, making me flinch. I didn't need long to figure out whose they were.
"What are you doing?" I asked, lifting my gaze.
Honestly, it was pretty surprising that Dad had stayed out of it for so long. I'd even forgotten he'd been standing there the whole time. As it turned out, he was just waiting for the right moment.
"So Luisa gets to do it, huh?"
He raised an eyebrow skeptically and started kneading my cheeks like he was checking dough for readiness.
"No! I just… wasn't ready."
At the same time, Velarin retreated back toward Mom, almost yanking her ears out of my hands. I squeezed and released my palms with a faint sadness, still feeling their fluffiness on my skin.
"Could you stop already?"
I glared at Dad, and he quickly pulled his hands away, as if my cheeks had suddenly turned scalding.
"Ooh, so grumpy. Looks like even ancient murs have teeth."
Like an unskilled barber, his fingers pressed too hard on my head. My legs buckled traitorously, and I nearly dropped to my knees.
"Stop it already," I grumbled, trying to push his hand away.
"Tell me, do you know what it takes to draw a circle?"
His sudden question left me slightly confused. My first impulse was to answer "of course I do," but faced with the gaps between reality and memory—I wasn't sure of anything anymore.
Before I could find a reply, Dad raised his finger and made a circular motion. The air cracked quietly, like a dry branch, and a bright fiery trail lingered behind his gesture in the shape of a circle. Warmth brushed my face, making me blink.
I stared in surprise at this magical phenomenon, but just a moment later the fire scattered, as if the air had sucked it back in.
"So… uh…"
I really didn't understand Dad's thought process. So this seemingly simple explanation ended up leading me nowhere.
"All it takes is a line," he said.
"Oh… well, that's simple enough."
"But what happens if the lines don't meet? The circle can't form."
As if to prove his point, he drew another circle. Or rather, almost a circle—the line didn't close, leaving a tiny gap.
"Looks a lot like a circle, doesn't it? And yet it's infinitely far from being one."
I decided to try finishing the missing line myself, but Dad immediately stopped me, shaking his head.
So the flame was real? For some reason, that felt pretty important.
"So… what about it?"
"That's it."
"That's it?"
I should've guessed it was another one of Dad's antics. But honestly, this time it was so harmless I wasn't sure if it was worth paying attention to.
For the next few moments, Dad just stared at the wall, as if there was a prompter behind me telling him what to do next.
"Alright. Imagine that circle is time."
"Okay…"
I wasn't really digging into the details anymore, but I decided to listen to the end anyway.
"Think of the missing line as the present. As long as you're not here, the circle won't close."
"Huh…?"
It took me a moment to realize what he meant. I have to admit that even though Dad mostly gave off the impression of a chaotic jester, every now and then he managed to catch me off guard.
Still, I couldn't shake the feeling that there might be some catch here. Was this some kind of psychological test?
In the end, I decided that if it was, I'd already failed it, so I just nodded. Personally, I'd prefer if Dad took my intelligence level into account and limited his riddles to something like "What chain can't be lifted?"
Dad patted my shoulder with satisfaction, as if I'd done everything right, returned to his usual state, and headed upstairs.
Watching his back, I even felt a little envious of how quickly he could switch. His thoughts had already galloped ahead, while mine crawled along at a turtle's pace.
I shifted my gaze to Luisa. She was sitting next to Mom on the couch now, hugging a pillow, and they were whispering about something. For some reason, it felt like they were plotting against me.
Take Luisa's behavior, for example. She kept tapping her fingers on her knee for quite a while, like it was a keyboard, while Mom dictated something into her ear.
I watched them for a couple more seconds—exactly as long as it took me to realize: I really didn't want to figure this out right now.
No matter the season, there was one place I wanted to spend every second of every day—my bed. But right now the path there felt way too long.
"Someday…" I thought, glancing at the stairs, and instead headed to the kitchen.
.
Even when I came out of the kitchen, the conversation between Mom and Luisa didn't stop. On the contrary, it seemed to become even livelier.
I don't know where it came from, but I'd already developed a habit of feeling unnecessary in moments like this. No matter how warmly they'd include me in the conversation, if I joined in—I wasn't needed there in the first place if they hadn't invited me, right?
There were so many things I could've done to make this day at least like the others. And instead, I just decided to wilt here.
"…It's kind of… annoying. I need to do something," I muttered to myself, burying my face in my hands.
My words of regret carried no weight. The only thing that felt heavy was my body.
It often happened that once I stayed in one place for a little while, I'd get stuck there. Even though the floor by the stairs was quite cold—and my butt had started to ache—I couldn't force myself to stand up.
"Oh, fancy finding you here."
Luisa approached with a bouncy step and sat down on the floor next to me. I could hear the floorboard creak as she lowered herself, as if it struggled to hold the weight of two girls at once.
"You two finished talking?"
"Heh. What, jealous?"
Even without looking at her, I could perfectly picture the expression on her face right now. She was almost certainly very pleased with herself.
"As if," I mumbled, not lifting my head.
"Really?" She brought her face so close I could feel her breath on my cheek. "Then why are you sitting here? Alone."
"Hmph. What do you think?" I lifted my head and met her eyes.
My question prompted Luisa to reach out her hand. But why? Maybe she wanted to give me something?
I looked at her palm, but it was empty. Only the fairly detailed paw pads of her pajamas stuck out a little, forming tiny hills. I also noticed cracks on their surface, like drought-parched earth.
I reached toward her, touching the tip of my finger to one of the pads. It felt like touching tree bark—rough, dry. Yet surprisingly soft. My finger sank into it right away. And immediately after, Luisa grabbed my hand, flashing a wide smile.
"You were waiting for me," she declared, standing up and pulling me with her.
"I wasn't waiting for anyone," I huffed involuntarily, looking away.
"Yeah. Sure."
The way she said it made it clear she didn't believe me at all. She was absolutely convinced I'd been sitting here for her, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Well, whatever. Let her think what she wants.
"Then shall we go?"
"Huh?"
Before I could process it, my gaze automatically shifted to the stairs. I shook my head, frowning, as if asking: what about the stairs?
Luisa looked at me like my reaction didn't concern her at all.
"Then we need to come up with something."
She nodded slightly—more to herself than to me.
Her eyes flicked to the stairs and back, as if the idea was already there but she wasn't ready to give it shape yet.
"I'll go call Mom," I said, pointing toward the kitchen.
I decided not to wait for her initiative. After all, Mom was already free, and nothing was stopping me from asking her to carry me.
Before I could turn around, Luisa grabbed my forearm, making me stumble back. The strength she used gave the impression I'd almost stepped into traffic. Except the problem was—we were inside the house.
"Um… Luisa?"
"Wait."
"Yes, I got that. Can you let go now?"
I tried to pry her fingers off, but she only gripped tighter. The tense expression on Luisa's face grew more pronounced, as if she was putting in more effort than intended just to keep me in place. Not that I was really resisting, but I genuinely wanted to tell her to ease up.
I sighed and gave in, almost bumping my back into her. At the same time, her grip on my arm loosened, and her face looked less strained. I think that was one of the things I liked about her—her emotions were always right on the surface.
I wonder why, unlike her, I'm so… difficult?
No-no-no, I almost sank into those thoughts but caught myself in time.
"We talked with your mom and decided…" she mumbled, as if something was holding her back from speaking clearly.
"Mhm. And?"
"I'll help you…"
It would've been much easier if she put as much effort into her words as she did into her grip. With what… Hm…
"You want to carry me instead of her?" I guessed, watching her reaction.
"What? No!.. That's not it."
"I see."
So that wasn't the right answer. The feeling that today had dragged me into some kind of lottery only grew stronger with every second.
Could one correct answer out of three be considered a success? I doubted it. I was still far from understanding the intentions of the people around me.
"Let's… go up together." When she lifted her eyes to me, she looked more like an abandoned puppy than a person.
Go up together, huh…
No matter what anyone said, it was winter outside. I could feel it with every inch of my skin. Plus, all the other signs were there. For example, my body had started to shiver a little.
On days like this, you have to be careful not to frostbite your nose or something worse. It went without saying that I wanted to get back under a warm blanket as soon as possible. So I was about to refuse her offer, citing the cold and tiredness. But after thinking it over a bit, I realized that rejecting her efforts so bluntly might come off as tactless.
Then what could I say to her?
"It's okay if you don't want to! Let's… let's do it another time…"
It looked like she was taking precautions in case of my refusal. Probably the decision she and Mom had come to wasn't unanimous. Or maybe Luisa had made it her priority not to force me, but to gently nudge me.
"Oh… well, that's even better. I'm not sure I'm ready yet."
"Do you need to bake like bread first?"
"Huh?"
Her eyes looked off to the side, and her lips stretched into a smile. Her face was so lively, and her words so cheeky, that I couldn't help but admire this… this audacity.
"You've gotten bold, huh?"
Even though I was mostly joking, Luisa flinched as if I'd raised my hand to hit her.
"S-sorry."
I'd made her apologize. That wasn't what I wanted. Guilt spread across my skin like I'd been doused in spring water. Now I simply couldn't refuse her.
For a second, an unpleasant thought flashed through my mind. What if…
I immediately brushed it away.
"That was a joke. Sorry." My shoulders slumped, as if someone was pressing down on them. "Let's try."
Lately, there had been too many events I could say I didn't like. And the reason for them was her. The girl who lowered her head as if chewing on the collar of her pajamas, but in reality was desperately trying to hold back a smile.
I have to say—she didn't succeed.
"Emi's watching everything like she's not even here."
I almost jumped when Mom's voice suddenly came. It sounded as if she was voicing her thoughts aloud, but—like her position—it came out too lazily.
"How long have you been here?"
"Not long at all. You were taking forever to decide. I got tired of waiting."
What did she mean by that? Who knows.
When she lifted her head from the stair railing and stretched as if she'd slept there all day, her usual aura of untamed energy returned. She planted her hands on her hips and nodded at Luisa. That's when I understood everything.
"So you set all this up?"
"Did I? I just knew you wouldn't watch your tongue," she shrugged.
At first it had been strange to see Mom and Luisa sitting together. Those two were too far apart in interests, yet they somehow managed to get along. Probably that's what they called good relationships.
If you thought about it, our whole family was built on similar relationships.
"Since you're already here… could you carry me?"
I tried to make puppy eyes, looking at Mom pitifully. At least I really wanted to believe I managed something close to that expression.
"I can't." She answered without a second's hesitation.
I sighed and looked away. You didn't need to be a genius to guess why. But I still decided to try my luck and ask.
"Why not?"
"Do your words mean nothing?" Mom crossed her arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow, as if throwing down a challenge.
Seeing this defiant pose, I noticed that right now she and Dad were on the same wavelength—both unbearable. At the same time, I knew she was right. And that… irritated me. I'd torn my own lifeline with my own hands.
I had no choice but to accept her challenge.
Lowering my head and looking at the step in front of me, I realized I had way too much in common with pandas. Clumsy, prone to running away, and absolutely not built for stairs.
The thought of how to even approach it became a real headache. I was so caught up in this endless stream of self-reproach that I didn't even notice when Luisa extended her paw toward me. She opened and closed her palm, as if reminding me that we were supposed to overcome this obstacle together.
"Shall we go?"
Even though the idea of climbing the stairs together filled me with hope, it seemed Luisa was just as anxious about it as I was.
I reached out my hand, and her palm squeezed mine—like the tiny paws of a frightened bird clinging to a branch at the last second.
The way her hand trembled told me she was just as scared of guiding me upstairs. At first I even panicked, but when she relaxed and took hold properly—I sighed.
I could fully understand her slight nervousness under the weight of responsibility, but seeing her tense face made me uneasy. She stared straight ahead—like the prow of a ship, not even trying to look around. It seemed she wasn't even blinking.
Suddenly Luisa took a step, pulling me closer to her, then stopped again. Then she stretched her neck, as if trying to examine the steps more closely. She even arched her back a little. And watching her, I couldn't stop marveling at how seriously she was taking this.
But honestly, it all looked like she was encountering stairs for the very first time.
"So, shall we go?" Luisa asked again, without turning her head.
"Um… sure."
Luisa took a step. Though it might've seemed effortless, I noticed her leg trembling slightly. Was she cold? I doubted it. Probably something else.
She stepped aside, turned to me, and tensed her arm, inviting me to climb. She even crouched a bit to match my height.
Well… my turn now.
I forced a smile—like it could ease the tension for both of us. Then I lifted my leg. I immediately wanted to squeeze my eyes shut, as if I was about to fall, but Luisa's hand was too real to allow that.
Hop.
It didn't take many tries to climb the first step. Actually, it felt pretty easy. I wasn't even tired.
Maybe I had a natural talent?
…Okay. Joke.
Luisa exhaled and looked up.
"Great. Only nine more to go."
"Oh…"
Finishing something is always much harder than starting. Could I just say I'd done enough for today and leave the rest for later? No. Of course not.
"So, shall we continue?"
Asking that, she scanned me from head to toe, as if searching for signs of a miracle. But why? Did she really think that after one step I should've changed in some significant way?
Maybe my leg muscles had gotten stronger? I even inspected my feet, but noticed nothing.
After that, Luisa nodded, as if she'd understood something, and repeated her climb. And I followed after her.
Then another. And another…
And then—everything stopped.
I took one more step—and my legs suddenly refused to obey. My knees buckled, and the next moment I plopped heavily onto the step, landing on my butt so hard my mind went blank for a second.
"You okay? It's the first time I've seen you this… exhausted. You look like a telmiron washed ashore."
"Just… it feels like too many batteries are built into you."
My first impulse was to snap back, but in the end I decided to joke. After all, I didn't even know what a "telmiron" was. Probably some kind of fish, I guess.
At the same time, Luisa looked clearly puzzled by my remark. Probably I'd said something strange again. Though honestly, her comparison wasn't much better.
"Are you so cruel that you'll just silently watch your daughter collapse?"
I addressed Mom, who stood below on the other side of the railing. She leaned on it with her elbow, supporting her head with her hand, watching us from below with an expression of tired patience.
"What are you talking about? I'm here so my daughter doesn't break her neck."
What a cruel woman. She didn't even change her pose when she said it. Everything about her screamed that she was already tired of waiting for us to finally make it upstairs.
If anyone here was truly tired, it was me.
I took a deep breath, trying to fill my lungs before the next effort. Even without looking, I could feel Mom's gaze pushing me to move, or else she'd sing me a song about what a weakling I was. Or something like that. Though that was more Dad's style, I wasn't surprised by anything anymore.
Things stop being fun when you start understanding them too well. They become part of everyday life. That's probably why I never fully dedicated myself to anything.
That's what I wanted to think.
In reality, I was just looking for convenient excuses so it wouldn't hurt. Because when you try your hardest and still fail—the damage from defeat becomes devastating.
Even a blind shooter will eventually hit the target if he fires long enough. But should luck be considered success?
Stairs and shooting, of course, aren't the same thing. But one conquered step, like one successful shot, hardly means anything on its own.
And right now, that knowledge weighed on me heavier than my own body. I sat on the step, heavy, motionless, as if I wasn't allowed any further.
It seemed like time to give up.
Mom seemed to understand that too. Stepping away from the railing, she smiled.
"I think that's enough for you."
From her expression, it was hard to tell whether she was disappointed or even a little proud of me. But one thing I knew for sure: I felt like a failure.
"No! She can do it!"
"Huh?"
Luisa yanked my arm, forcing me to stand. My legs felt unsteady, and I started falling toward her. Luisa had to catch me, pressing me to her chest.
A light gust of wind carried her scent to my nose, and the fluffiness of her pajamas seemed to envelop me in fur.
Even in her embrace, my legs still trembled. Did she really think I had the strength for another five steps?
"Oh, are you trying to kill my daughter?"
Like me, Mom didn't believe in me. Though her words were mostly a joke, for a moment a look of genuine pain flashed across Luisa's face. Then she shook her head furiously, as if screaming "no."
As if realizing something, Luisa only became more determined. It even seemed like the air around her lightened.
Was she planning to lift me with magic? But then she'd collapse on the floor before me.
I wanted to object, but Luisa had already bent down, nearly folding in half, and pulled my arm over her shoulder. Because of our height difference, her shoulder pressed right under my armpit—not exactly comfortable. I yelped, and she flinched guiltily before gripping me tighter.
She had to walk hunched over, like she was carrying an overly heavy backpack.
Every step came in jerks—first tension, then a short push upward.
It wasn't the most dignified way to climb. My leg dragged, the other caught on the edge of the step, and I was entirely held up by her persistence and shoulder. But… it really did make it easier for me to move.
I could hear Mom giggling as she watched us from below. I don't know what amused her more—our ridiculousness or the fact that we were actually moving.
"Huh? What are you…"
I turned my head toward Mom when a soft water tentacle wrapped around my other arm, and she just winked, pressing her index finger to her lips.
Honestly, did she have to act so mysterious when she was going to help anyway? As always, the ways of adults remained inscrutable.
Luisa didn't seem to notice the change at all. Not only was the tip of her nose red—her whole face was flushed, as if crying out for help. Even the dawn sun paled in comparison.
Such determination—or rather stubbornness—was almost painful for her.
Now it wasn't even clear whether I was walking on my own or being fully carried, but for some reason I felt that I wanted to cross this finish line myself.
Desperately wanting to achieve something—it wasn't a familiar feeling for me. Probably, like warmth, Luisa's motivation was transmitted to me through touch. Otherwise, I had no explanation for where I found the strength to climb those five steps.
But… it was done. We were upstairs. I still couldn't believe it.
.
As expected, the next morning I couldn't move a finger. It felt as if instead of an ordinary staircase, my goal had been to climb the highest point in the world. It seemed like I hadn't walked to the top—I'd crawled, clinging to everything possible.
The same could be said about Luisa. The once restless ball of joy that usually lay on me like a cat couldn't even cross her own half of the bed today.
We lay there like two lazy seals, refusing even to eat. We just giggled—and immediately winced from pain all over our bodies.
However, unlike me, Luisa didn't realize it right away. Probably because yesterday she'd fallen asleep with a sense of victory.
When Luisa first woke up, she seemed full of energy. She wasn't even bothered by the fact that she was lying in the same position she'd fallen asleep in.
You had to see the expression of complete pride and self-satisfaction on her face when she suddenly declared:
"I think now I'm strong enough to carry you upstairs all by myself."
It took considerable effort for me to turn my head toward her.
"…Really?"
From her voice, she wasn't joking. I wondered what had made her think that.
Honestly, I was impressed by her endurance. When Luisa helped me climb, she looked like she'd been sunburned. Was I really the only one this weak?
"Don't believe me?" She raised an eyebrow, as if it wasn't me doubting her strength but her doubting my lightness. "Then I'll lift you."
"Why?"
Honestly, I didn't want to know. Why? Because I felt she'd give a simple but incredibly ridiculous answer that would only make things worse. For example, I doubted I could stand on my own legs even with help.
"To show you how strong I've become," she answered without a second's hesitation.
"Better not."
Completely ignoring my warning, Luisa lunged forward and… A desperate cry escaped her lips when she couldn't even lift herself.
Curious, could her cry be considered a victory yell…?
Hard to say.