As Yuu stepped out of the dormitory and toward the outer street through the lounge, the air and her clothing both still clung to the scent of something faintly reminiscent of Azul—tea leaves, ink, and salt. Her heart was already heavy, the weight of her memories pressing down with every step. But she stopped short when her eyes landed on a desk just by the door.


    Azul’s bag from the day before, discarded on the spot where he would have seen Jade’s ‘masterpiece,’ and right next to it, spilling out, a pile of shining golden papers. Old, curling at the edges, but unmistakable in their cruel precision.


    Azul’s…. Original contracts.


    But no, those had been destroyed before his overblot. Unable to resist her curiosity, she stepped closer, flicking through the top dozen or so.


    Her breath caught in her throat. The terms on these were nothing like the ones that he’d written in the past year. Azul had promised that those days—those deals spun in desperation, those cruel bargains that left others powerless—were behind him. She had believed in that.


    And yet here they were. Not just one, not just a forgotten scrap, but a whole stack of them, carefully preserved, neatly kept. Like they still mattered.


    Like he still used them.


    The warmth that had been bubbling inside her since the night before—the tentative, aching realization that she had fallen for him—curdled into something cold.


    “Oh, it is too early for more turmoil,” she grumbled under her breath, but it was already too late for that.


    How stupid.


    Her fingers hovered over the stack before she pulled them back. She had already learned the hard way what it meant to get too close to something she didn’t fully understand.


    Her grip on the doorknob tightened.


    She needed to go.


    She needed to think.


    And, most of all, she needed to figure out if the man she had fallen for was truly who she thought he was—or if she had only seen what he wanted her to see. Because she had fallen, in a way that made her feel as though she were still falling, and might never stop.


    She paused in the doorway, inches from leaving.


    “Clearly he thought they were really gone, or he would never have overblotted, right?”


    There was more than met the eye going on. There were always plots within plots when it came to Octavinelle, but for now, Yuu’s dealing with Azul were done. The venom was gone, and she had her memories back. She was free.


    At the same time, only Azul himself knew how badly she had set back his work and his schedule. He had been undeniably patient with her. Good to her. And that counted for something, right?


    Right now, however, all it could count for was her trust that Azul knew what he was doing as she walked out the door, and back to Ramshackle to reclaim her life.


    *


    Coming back to Ramshackle today was like coming back to it the first time, and at the same time, the thousandth, it was so achingly familiar. The moment Yuu stepped through the creaking front door, the scent of dust, aged wood, and something vaguely burnt greeted her like an old, exasperated friend. The entryway was dim, the morning light struggling through warped windows, casting golden slants over the scratched floorboards. The chandelier above swayed slightly, even though there was no breeze—because, of course, the house and its supernatural denizens had opinions about her absence.


    The moment she crossed the threshold, a floorboard gave an ominous groan beneath her foot, and somewhere upstairs, a door slammed shut on its own.


    "Okay, okay, I get it," she muttered. "I was gone for two days, not forever."


    A wisp of cold air slithered past her ear in what she could only assume was a passive-aggressive greeting from the ghosts. A picture frame tilted itself even more askew on the wall.


    "Don’t start with me," she warned the house, dropping her bag with a heavy thud onto the crooked entry table. The table wobbled, as if considering whether or not to collapse out of sheer spite.


    Something scuttled across the ceiling.


    Yuu chose to believe it was just a trick of the light.


    The fireplace was cold, the couch still littered with a half-knitted scarf she swore she’d finish someday, and Grim’s tiny paw prints smudged the dusty coffee table. Everything was exactly as she left it—messy, haunted, and somehow still home….home.


    And yet, standing there, the memories freshly returned to her mind, Yuu couldn’t shake the weight pressing against her chest.


    She was different now. The world beyond this house was different now. And she wasn’t sure if she still fit in this drafty, cobweb-laced puzzle of a life.


    A loud thump from the kitchen shattered the moment.


    "GRIM!" she called, already moving. "If you’ve knocked over the spice rack again—"


    There was a small scuffle in the kitchen as she made her way past the entry tables and into the other room, where the lit stove displayed the sort of mess usually only featured in after-cooking-show bloopers.


    Covered in flour and other substances, Grim shot out from between the tight counterspaces, and right into her chest.


    Laughing for once, she wrapped her arms around the little furry guy, and hugged him tight.


    “What’s this?” she asked, pleasantly surprised.


    “Listen, don’t get screechy on me, but I tried to make pancakes, and, well, our pan might need replacing.”


    “Might?”


    “It has a hole in it,” he said miserably. “It just looked so easy when you did it…”


    “I’ll teach you how, sometime,” Yuu snorted, realizing with a jolt that it would have to be ‘sometime’ very soon.


    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    She squeezed him a little tighter. He squirmed at first, grumbling half-heartedly, but he didn’t pull away.


    “Geez, henchhuman, you’re actin’ weird.”


    Yuu laughed, but it was thin, barely holding itself together. “I missed you, that’s all.”


    Grim puffed out his chest. “’Course you did! I’m the Great Grim, after all. The lounge food wasn’t that good, was it?”


    Yuu sighed. “It was. But it wasn’t home.”


    “Hey Grimm, come and sit with me a minute.” Instead of waiting for an answer, she carried him into the other room, squirming slightly, and plopped them both down on the couch.


    The room fell quiet for a moment. Grim’s ears flicked, and his tail swished against the couch. “...You’re mad about the pan, aren’t ya?” he asked eventually.


    “Um… no. No, the pan’s replaceable,” she said softly. “Just wondering how to say this. Grimm, I never asked. Do you remember your family? WHere are you actually…from?”


    Grim twitched in her lap. “I guess I’m from around here, what’s it to you?”


    “You didn’t like your siblings? Did you…have siblings?”


    Grim refused to look at her, usually a guilty sign, but this time, she could tell that he was actually doing some deep thinking.


    “I mostly grew up on the streets eating scraps. I don’t really remember much of devils that looked like me. Pretty hard to believe looking at me now, isn’t it?” he tried to laugh it off.


    “Pretty hard to believe,’ she said good-naturedly. “So… how did you make it, then? You must have been pretty young.”


    He shrugged, agitated now. “First thing I remember is waking up in the snow. I must have thought someone would come for me, because I was sitting there for ages. Just waiting. I don’t remember any siblings or nothing like that. And apparently my parents, if I had any, didn’t care, ‘cause no one ever came….


    “...I always figured if I got famous enough, maybe someone would recognize a picture. Maybe they just lost me, you know? If I get famous enough, that’s better than a street-side help add.”


    So many things were making sense about Grimm, now.


    “I bet that would do it,” she said, not wanting to take away from his dreams. This was Twisted Wonderland, after all. The impossible happened every day.


    “If you could get your memories of them back, maybe it would help. Is that something you’d want?”


    Grimm scratched himself, opting to lay down on her thighs.


    “Maybe… at this point, I don’t even know if I want ‘em.”


    “Really?” She was mystified. “Why?”


    “I got something else going for me, ya know?” he said, and Yuu read between the lines. There was somewhere he belonged, now. Grim had found himself a place, even though he kept risking it with his laziness.


    Perhaps….perhaps that was even his way of letting go of the old dream.


    Yuu’s stomach twisted. She pulled back, looking at him—her first friend in this strange world, the only thing that had been constant from the moment she arrived. She had to tell him, and she couldn’t mince words.


    “Grim… I got my memories back.”


    His little paws curled into the fabric of her sleeve, batting at the hem.


    “Okay?”


    “The memories were the thing keeping the transport memories from being able to take me home.” She swallowed. “I can go home now.”


    Silence.


    Grim’s eyes widened, and then, his tail bristled. “What?!” He scrambled out of her lap, turning to face her with a snarl. “And you’re just telling me this now?! Like it’s some little thing, like—like you lost a sock or somethin’?!”


    “I—”


    “Are you stupid?!” He jumped onto the armrest, tail lashing, voice growing shrill. “What’re ya gonna do, huh? Go back to some boring world where nobody’s got magic? Where there’s no me? Where—where you don’t even know if anyone’s waitin’ for ya?”


    Yuu flinched, guilt crashing over her like a wave.


    Grim’s breathing was fast, ragged, but his voice was quieter when he spoke again. “Why would you leave?”


    Yuu rubbed at her eyes, exhausted, heart aching in ways she hadn’t prepared for.


    “Because it’s my world, Grim.”


    “But—but you got a thing goin’! WE got a thing goin’!” he snapped. His ears flattened, and his voice cracked just a little. “You’re just gonna toss it away? Or am I totally overreactin’? Is this like a weekend thing?”


    “No,” she shook her head. “If I go back, well… I wasn’t supposed to be able to come here in the first place, and you said you don’t remember how I got here either, right?”


    “You’re talking about leaving Twisted….FOREVER?”


    “I’m saying, I could. I have… well, I guess I have a mom who’s trying to make her own new life, now, but that doesn’t mean she hasn’t been worried. Out of her mind worried. And I still have a sister, and who knows what kind of choices she’s making without me around.”


    “So can’t you just send them something? Tell ‘em you’re fine, explain the situation, maybe send a little proof…”


    “That’s not a bad idea for now,” she admitted. “Until I’m ready to go. Gotta say goodbyes…”


    “Right, right. Goodbyes,” he huffed.


    She didn’t know what to say. To her surprise, Grim was the one who spoke first.


    "I don’t want you to go," he admitted, his tail wrapping around her wrist like a tiny, desperate chain. "I like things the way they are. Who’s gonna clean up the house? Who’s gonna stop me from setting the kitchen on fire? Who’s gonna—who’s gonna scratch behind my ears exactly the right way—"


    Yuu let out a watery laugh. "That’s your biggest concern?"


    Grim huffed, shoving his face into her shoulder. "It''s an important one!" His voice trembled slightly. "I don’t wanna find a new human!"


    "You wouldn’t have to. You’re the Great Grim, remember?"


    He turned around, gripping and unwrapping his paws.


    "Yes, I would! And they''d be awful! And boring! And they wouldn’t even know how I like my tuna cut!"


    Yuu sniffed and wrapped her arms around him tight. "I don’t want to lose you either, Grim."


    His ears perked slightly. "Then don’t go."


    "I…don’t know what I’m going to do yet," she admitted. "I thought getting my memories back would make everything simple, but… it just made things harder."


    Grim finally pulled back, peering up at her with watery blue eyes. "Then stay."


    "Grim…"


    "Stay until you know what you really want," he pressed, his paws trembling as he gripped her hands. "Don’t just go because you can."


    Yuu stared at him, the warmth of his fur grounding her, anchoring her in place.


    His gaze darted away. “And what about that octo-jerk? You were stayin’ with him, weren’t ya? If I’m not enough to keep you here, you….like him.” He was absolutely disgusted, but even though he averted his little blue cat eyes, Yuu could see them turning a little misty.


    Yuu hesitated. “Apparently, he’s harder to know than I thought.…and I don’t know what I mean to him.”


    Grim snorted. “Feh! I do.”


    She looked up sharply, but he wouldn’t meet her eyes.


    A painful silence stretched between them, broken only when Grim flopped dramatically onto the couch, tail curling around himself. “Whatever,” he muttered. “Do what you want.”


    Yuu reached out hesitantly, brushing her fingers through his fur. He didn’t pull away.


    “I don’t know what I want yet, remember?” she admitted. “But I do want to try and reach out to them—my family. I can’t help but feel that if they knew everything was okay, after all this time, well… I’m not sure I would have believed anything anyone said about Twisted Wonderland before I came here, but maybe you’re right. I could find some sort of proof. Maybe then, I wouldn’t feel so desperate…”


    “Must be nice,” Grim grumbled.


    “Hm?”


    “People worrying,” he said, looking away again. “About you.”


    “If I leave, I’d have to worry about you forever, Grim,” she said firmly.


    “Sure,” he said with another shrug. “But I’m not your mom. Or your sister.”


    She swallowed past the lump in her throat.


    “You’re your own demon entirely, Grim” she consoled, petting his fur.


    This had only gotten harder….