Sunny walked like a man possessed. Not by demons — or Daemons. At least he hoped not. More like he was haunted by taste. Haunted by sweetness, by batter, by whatever witchcraft had been folded into the paper-thin miracle currently unraveling in his syrup-stained hands.
Thankfully, his captors had allowed him to return to the restaurant to return the silverware and pay off his bill. However, his uneaten crêpe underwent a transformation.
A crêpe. Warm. Fragile. Folded like a soft secret. Stuffed with strawberries that had clearly been blessed by some ancient kitchen priest. Whipped cream peeking out the edges, taunting the world. Powdered sugar dusted over the top like edible snow, already melting into sticky fingerprints.
He bit into it. Hard. Sloppily. Like the crêpe owed him money.
"Are you even listening to us?"
Dan Heng's voice cut through the air.
Sunny didn't blink. Didn't slow. Didn't respond. He chewed. A drip of strawberry juice slid down his chin. He let it. Let the world see.
March jogged to keep up.
"Sunny, you literally almost walked into a street sign. What is wrong with you?"
"They folded it."
Sunny whispered, his eyes manic.
"They folded it, March. Why would they do that? Why would they fold a dessert and put fruit in it and think I wouldn't immediately lose my grasp on reality?"
Seele crossed her arms and said in a dry tone:
"I mean, it's just food. It's not that deep."
Sunny stopped. Whipped his head toward her with such force he nearly lost a raspberry.
"Not that deep?"
His voice cracked and was much too loud, considering that passerbys were starting to send them strange looks.
"Not that deep? This thing is philosophically deeper than the depths of the goddamn Stormsea."
He pointed at the crêpe like it was Exhibit A in a trial only he was attending.
"Look at this! It's like if a pancake and a dream had a baby and filled it with cream cheese and sorrow. Metaphorically, of course."
Dan Heng pinched the bridge of his nose.
"That trolley is going to leave without us. You won't have to worry about running into anything there."
There were very few civilians left entering a nearby trolley, so there was little time to board it. As Awakened, however, they could leap over to it in a mere second.
Not that Sunny was going to do so.
"You're going to leave without me."
Sunny corrected, taking another aggressive bite.
"Because I'm not getting on a train with people who disrespect breakfast-based artistry. I have standards."
"You have crumbs on your ear."
March said, equal parts horrified and impressed.
Sunny licked a trail of powdered sugar from his thumb like it was a sacred rite.
"Is it so wrong to showcase my love to the world? I don't hide it behind stoic silence and 'logical plans' and 'not getting banned from restaurants.'"
"Why are you talking about me like I'm not here?"
Dan Heng asked, sounding as if he wasn't expecting a coherent answer.
"I'm not talking about you. I'm talking about the crêpe. The crêpe understands me. This isn't a one-sided relationship. Just as I want to eat it, the crêpe desires to be eaten."
Sunny chewed thoughtfully. A long pause. Then, without warning, he stopped walking entirely. His eyes locked on the half-finished pastry, serious.
"This is it. This is peak form. Nothing I do today will matter more than this crêpe. I could donate to an orphanage, I could dismantle a government — wouldn't matter. This is the highlight."
Seele muttered:
"Good. Then choke on it and save us all some time."
Sunny smirked.
"Too late. I already made it an inseparable part of me."
March groaned, grabbing his arm and dragging him forward.
"Can you at least walk while you monologue about your crêpe? I'm not getting yelled at by some angry conductor because you wanted to emotionally bond with a snack."
"It's not a snack, March."
Sunny let himself be dragged but held the crêpe above his head like a torch.
"It's a lifestyle."
They marched on, Dan Heng silently calculating his regrets, Seele muttering threats under her breath, and March loudly vowing to leave him behind next time.
Sunny followed, sticky-fingered, smiling, and still chewing.
The crêpe, of course, was divine.
***
"I apologize for being late. There was some paperwork I had to… what happened to Sunny?"
Bronya stared in confusion as the young man was drooling into one of the clinic's sheets. He seemed completely out of it. There was folded clothes on a stool next to the bed, and he seemed to be wearing a hospital gown.
A small sliver of relief shook her bones as she sighed, glad that Sunny was unharmed… though unconscious. Although, the way his eyes fluttered was a little strange.
…Ths situation only grew stranger when she saw three more youths splayed across the floor. Natasha seemed to be unbothered as she sorted through her medical equipment as she sipped on a floating cup of tea, absentmindedly answering:
"Sugar crash, and a tad bit of narcolepsy. From what I heard, he ate at least thirty pancakes and waffles…"
'Narcolepsy? Pancakes?'
She recalled that time at the orphanage, when Sunny suddenly passed out. She thought it must have been from exhaustion… but that was ridiculous. His endurance seemed to be much greater than the rest of them.
It was a bit strange, though. A medical condition as minor as narcolepsy should have been expunged after Awakening. The only kinds of conditions that last would be major disabilities, and even those are discarded after Ascending.
His Flaw, maybe?
Then there was the entire pancake situation…
'What kind of creature…?'
She almost believed that this could have been a Flaw as well. Something that correlated with either being addicted to sugar, or needing large intakes of it to function properly. In a way, consuming so much sugar could influence the weight of a sugar crash, which might even bring him to unconsciousness.
She couldn't recall many times where similar symptoms occurred, though. Plus, Natasha specifically said that it was narcolepsy. What were the odds that she was wrong.
So, in the end, Bronya couldn't make any meaningful connections.
Seele straightened up, her eyes enshrouded with a crimson hue as she glared. There were crumbs all over her, and her fingers were glazed as if she had been grabbing a creature formed of glue.
"That bastard! He stole my books!"
Bronya flinched when Natasha spat out her tea. After a couple coughs, the older woman sent Veliona a serious look.
"My books, you mean?"
As the bloody-eyed girl frantically nodded her head, Natasha unceremoniously placed the floating cup of tea down. She strode towards the door.
"We must retrieve them. Come."
Veliona blinked.
"You know where they are?"
Natasha laughed. A laugh lacking of humor.
"I'll figure something out."
That seemed to be enough to convince Veliona, as she stood up and skipped behind Natasha. Bronya watched in silence as they left on an infiltration mission.
'What is going on?'
With a groan, March sat up, running her fingers through her unkempt hair, which seemed to be a little sticky in some places. Weirdly enough, she had a sly grin on her face.
"Speaking of books, you won't believe what I found in Sunny's room. Let me tell you, those things weren't kid-friendly at all…"
She suddenly slumped back, seeming too tired to continue speaking. At the same time, Dan Heng rose, looking only slightly worse for wear. Besides the baggy eyes, he didn't seem to experience any physical damage.
Just mental, if the madness behind his jade eyes was meant to imply anything.
"He… he did things. He said things. Things I will never unsee or unhear. 'I went to divine hell and found myself in heaven. Then, I dropped down to meet my fellow mortals.' I asked him how he got down, and you know what he said? A dragon. I'm… offended."
The normally composed Dan Heng seemed like he was about to cry. Tactfully — at least, she hoped it was — Bronya let out an empty chuckle, her eyes swapping targets as she heard sheets ruffle.
Sunny wiped the drool off the corner of his lips as he sent Bronya an unimpressed look.
"You… are four hours late. How do I know that? Because I slept four hours ago. I bet you can't wake up that fast, can you?"
Didn't it usually take around eight hours to leave the Dream Realm? He woke up rather quickly at the orphanage as well.
Bronya gazed back into his dark pools, feeling that something was… off.
"What did you do to them…? No, forget that. Are you okay?"
Sunny snorted, a mix of annoyance, amusement, and something else that Bronya couldn't quite describe.
"Those three? Simple. They made me drop my crêpe when we were leaving the trolley; at least two bites, mind you. Naturally, we had a tussle. How else would I avenge my unfinished syrup vessel?"
A maniacal grin split across his face.
"March and Seele were easy to deal with. As for Dan Heng, he didn't want to get involved. So, I simply whispered the impossible truths of madness to him, and watched as his mind did the rest of the work."
He sent Bronya a calculating look.
"As for whether I'm okay, that depends. Will you fetch me a replacement crêpe?"
Bronya understood that Sunny had a great liking for fine delicacies. She truly did. And yet, she couldn't help but think that there was something else behind his hysterical behavior.
She sighed.
"I don't believe they have any of that in the Underworld."
Sunny shrugged.
"No, then. I'm not okay."
Carefully walking around the corpse-like, but conscious forms of March and Dan Heng, Bronya approached Sunny, seating herself at the corner of his bed.
"Would you like to talk about it?"
"I just did."
"Not that. I'm referring to what you've been doing in the past month."
"Unless you're going to get me a crêpe in the next twenty minutes, no."
"That's fine."
They simply sat in silence for a few moments. Sunny seemed to be a bit fidgety, not due to nervousness, but more like he needed something to draw his attention.
Bronya contemplated for a moment, before carefully asking:
"Are you lonely?"
Sunny blinked. He thought for a moment, before tilting his head.
"Of course not. I am currently in a room with three other people, people I know and have conversed with."
Bronya shook her head.
"I'm not asking if you are alone. I'm asking you if you feel lonely."
There was a short pause, which was immediately broken when Sunny laughed — it was like he heard a hilarious joke.
"I'm the last person who'd feel lonely. I talk to my shadow all the time."
Bronya's eyes drifted to the three silhouettes surrounding him. They certainly seemed to have a mind of their own, if the way they stared at Sunny with differing reactions was any indication.
She pursed her lips.
"I'm not sure that's the same as talking to another person. It seems closer to talking to yourself."
Sunny shrugged, uncaring.
"Semantics! The point is, I don't feel lonely whatsoever."
The truth, Bronya mused. She wasn't sure how else she could steer the conversation, if her only lead to finding the problem plaguing him was denied.
There was just something… wrong about the way he held himself.
Sending him one last look of concern, Bronya got back on her feet.
"Well, I only came to make sure you were fine. If you're sure there's nothing wrong, then I'll have to take my leave. I'm quite busy now, since I'll have to become Supreme Guardian soon."
"Why?"
Bronya paused on her way to the door. She looked back towards Sunny.
"Why what?"
"Why do you want to know if I'm okay so badly?"
His stare was blank, his voice even.
Bronya was slightly startled by the question, but found herself simply shrugging, an uncharacteristic action for her.
"Why not?"
With a short wave and a soft smile, she left the clinic.
***
Sunny stared at the door Bronya left with for a few seconds. Then, he looked down at his invaluable helpers.
"Did you three get any of that?"
Gloomy seemed to laugh at him, pointing out his idiocy. The mocking shadow didn't seem to have any answers of it's own, though, so it was quite hypocritical.
Haughty turned away, acting as if it was below it to answer his question. Once again, another avoidance.
Thankfully, not all his shadows were dishonest, as Happy shrugged and shook it's head. A denial.
Sunny sighed, a complicated expression on his face.
"Me neither."
He looked down at himself, his face immediately morphing into a look of concern.
"The real question is: who the hell changed my clothes?!"