Thank you Mother....But Please don't Hurt me.

Nimdok’s eyes snapped open, and the tears were already streaming. He didn’t know if they came from the dream or the cold, but they soaked his face, his pillow, his very being. His breath hitched, uneven and jagged, as he clutched at the blanket tangled around him like chains.

“I’m a little black bird,” he sobbed, his voice high and thin like a child’s. His body rocked forward, the motion desperate and automatic. “Chip, chip, chip—I’ll be good, I’ll be good!”

The words spilled out in a rush, tripping over themselves, tangled in his gasps and shudders. His nails dug into his palms, his whole body tightening as though bracing for something. For what? The memory flickered in his mind like a broken film reel, flashes of rain and bars and whispers. And then—

Nothing.

The change came suddenly, jarringly, like a lever pulled or a door slammed shut. His breathing steadied in an instant. His tears stopped as if they had never been there. The sobbing turned into silence, and his hunched posture relaxed, shoulders slack and limp.

He sat there, blinking in the dim light of the room, his expression blank, as though waking from a trance. His hands released their grip on the blanket, falling to his sides.

Nimdok reached up and touched his cheeks, feeling the wet streaks left by his tears. He tilted his head, curious, his fingers trailing across his skin as though inspecting something foreign.

“Strange,” he murmured, his tone calm, almost analytical. He glanced toward the window, noting the faint haze of condensation on the glass. “The room must have been too hot. Sweat, perhaps.”

The explanation felt solid, logical, even comforting. He nodded to himself, satisfied with the conclusion, and swung his legs over the edge of the bed.

He didn’t notice the way his hands trembled when they reached for the floor. Didn’t notice the tightness in his chest, the faint tremor in his voice as he hummed a soft tune to fill the quiet.

There was nothing to notice.

Whatever lingered in the corners of his mind, in the fragments of the dream, in the half-formed cries of a little black bird, was gone. Snuffed out like a candle, leaving behind only the faintest trace of smoke.
------------------

The stairs creaked under Nimdok’s bare feet as he padded down, the loose collar of his nightshirt slipping off one shoulder. His hair was a mess of dark waves, still damp with sweat from restless sleep. The scent of tea leaves and something faintly sweet wafted up to greet him, nudging him into wakefulness.

Darcia was already at the table, beaming like the morning sun as she carefully arranged slices of fruit on a chipped porcelain plate. Her tail swayed behind her, a lively rhythm betraying her uncontainable joy. She looked up as Nimdok entered, her long black hair draping over her shoulders like a flowing curtain.

“Well, well,” she said, her voice teasing. “Look who’s finally decided to join the living.”

Nimdok grunted in reply, scratching the back of his neck as he made his way to the small round table. It was draped in a cheap woolen cloth, fraying at the edges, but lovingly kept clean. The table barely fit the two of them, often requiring them to sit so close their legs brushed beneath it. Plants crowded the dining room, spilling from shelves, boxes, and even hanging pots, their leaves cascading like green waterfalls. It was less a dining room and more a jungle, with the faint smell of soil and dampness mingling with breakfast.

Darcia poured tea into a mismatched pair of cups, her tail wagging faster as she slid one toward him. “Careful, it’s hot,” she said with mock seriousness, leaning across the table to push the cup closer. Her elbow nudged his arm as she did so, and Nimdok realized—perhaps for the first time—just how much contact they shared in a day.

“You’re unusually cheerful this morning,” he muttered, taking a sip and wincing as the tea burned his tongue.

“Am I?” Darcia replied, her ears perking up as she rested her chin in her hands. “Maybe it’s because I’m just so thrilled to spend time with my dear little brother.”

Nimdok rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress a faint smile. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“Only because you make it so easy,” she shot back, grinning. “Now eat up. I didn’t slice that fruit just for you to let it sit there.”

As they ate, the conversation turned to lighter topics. Darcia rambled about the new seedlings she was nursing in the garden, her enthusiasm bubbling over like a brook. “And the lavender? Oh, you should see it, Nim. It’s stubborn, just like you. Refuses to grow properly unless I coddle it.”

“Sounds like it learned from the best,” Nimdok said dryly, earning a playful swat on the arm.

By the time they finished, Nimdok felt oddly...settled. Darcia’s laughter had a way of smoothing over the cracks in his thoughts, though something still felt off. The way she fussed over him, her tail wagging every time he so much as looked at her—it was too much, even for her.

“Darcia,” he began, narrowing his eyes. “What are you up to?”

She blinked, all innocence, though the corners of her mouth twitched. “Up to? Me? Nothing at all. But now that you mention it…”

Here it comes, Nimdok thought.

“I do need a favor,” she said, her tone sweet as honey. “There’s a batch of medicine that needs delivering to old Mrs. Varn down by the bakery. I was going to do it myself, but, well, you know how much work there is here.” She gestured vaguely to the chaos of plants and boxes around them.

“Ah ha!” Nimdok declared, sitting up straighter. “You just want me out of the house so you can frolic with your Mr. Fox.”

Darcia’s laugh was like bells, bright and chiming. “Don’t be ridiculous. Frolic? Really? Who even says that?”

“You,” Nimdok replied with a smirk. “You’re practically frolicking already.”

She leaned across the table, her face close enough that he could see the flecks of gold in her eyes. “Go on, then. Be a good little brother and make the delivery.”

“Fine, fine,” he sighed, pushing back from the table. “But only because I care about your reputation.”

“Such a martyr,” she teased, her grin unwavering.

As Nimdok stood to leave, he glanced back at her, still seated amidst the clutter and greenery. She looked radiant, her tail wagging lazily as she watched him with that same unshakable smile. For a moment, he felt the oddest pang of unease, like there was a secret nestled in her happiness, one he couldn’t quite reach.

But he shook the thought away and headed for the door, grumbling about errands and meddlesome sisters. Darcia’s laughter followed him, bright and unrelenting, until it faded into the quiet hum of the house.