Days passed and the changes showed. Dahyun never asked questions. She only listened. When they sat down for a movie, she excused herself to go to the forest. She still promised that she would come back and they always heard her footsteps, but that was it. The steps stopped at one point where they assumed that Dahyun just sat down. They didn’t know what she did then, if it was something in the emotional world or the physical. 

Sana was sure it was just to be away from the house—away from them. 

A part of her hurt thinking that, but the other reminded her that they needed to give her space. The slumber had been an escape for her and they’d called her back. She wasn’t staying for herself, but for them. 

Sana watched as Dahyun ate now. There were slow movements and she wasn’t eating much.

The house didn’t smell like rot anymore. It only smelled like winter and mountain air. Dahyun was forcing down what she could, hiding what she could. Did the effort strain her? Did it hurt her? 

Then she set the fork down. “I will be taking the sadness away today.” Her voice didn’t hold much warmth. She sounded distant and her eyes were already looking into the emotional world. They were still black and grey.

They all looked at each other. Sana knew what each of them were thinking. There was a piece of her in each of them. It would be better for Dahyun to have those pieces back.

“Okay,” Sana said. “Do you think that’ll take as long as last time?” 

Her eyes refocused. Then they bored into Sana’s. There wasn't any curiosity, but she could still see her mind working. 

“I suppose so,” Dahyun replied. “So I’ll begin. There might even be a lightness afterwards.” Then her eyes glazed over completely. 

Sana felt a presence in her mind, one that drew at a dull cold in her. Melancholy surged and Dahyun’s face came to mind. It was one that wasn’t grey or black, but varying shades of blue. The one she’d seen when Dahyun had shown her the sky. She could vaguely make out Dahyun’s features. The scent of mountains rose. She could feel the sorrow in Dahyun, one that hadn't been there before. 

Sana pulled away from those emotions. The face she saw faded from view. 

None of the rest seemed to be confused at what they were feeling. The scent of sadness was so prevalent for Sana now. Each thought seemed to carry with it a thin thread of ice. Each breath made her more aware of a dull pain in her body. Not just her chest. She felt incomplete. 

“Do you think she’ll know why we felt what we did?” Tzuyu asked quietly. “I haven’t asked her yet, because,” she trailed off. 

Nayeon shook her head. “She’ll probably be like us, have a good idea why, but not for sure.” 

“Still ask her,” Sana said. “Tell her what you were feeling. Maybe she’ll get curious.” 

She wondered if unanswered questions would help. Dahyun wasn’t even asking questions. She didn’t seem to care about anything from the new topics in school to even figuring out how she’d been saved. Maybe they could get some of that enthusiasm back if they handed her the questions.

No one answered her. 

Sana closed her eyes, purposefully not reaching out in her head. What if she broke Dahyun’s concentration? 

She saw the dark and light blue outline of Dahyun behind her eyelids. It wasn't as close as before. Did that mean she'd moved on to the next one's mind? In her own head, she did feel lighter. Not relieved, but something close to it. 

She began to focus on the presence she could still see, but the more she saw of it, the more confused she felt. How could she see Dahyun in the first place? She was acting in the emotional world. Sana wasn't supposed to see that.

And yet, she could watch the blue threads flow towards Dahyun. The sadness she'd given each of them. The more she concentrated, the more saturated the colours became.

That was when she saw the grey and black within Dahyun herself. The tendrils wrapped around the different shades of blue, as though trying to strangle them. The sight made a weight in Sana's chest expand. Then constricted. She could only smell rot and winter. The scents took over each breath. She tried not to gag. 

Sana opened her eyes. She was looking at Tzuyu. 

“What is it?” the youngest asked. Her eye was still grey. She was also being tormented by fear. 

“You don’t feel that?” Sana asked. 

“Feel what?” Momo looked over. “Everything okay?” 

How was she not feeling that as well?

“I just,” Sana trailed off. The panic subsided. The weight in her body lifted. And the scent of rot faded. “Just feel different.” 

Nayeon nodded. “Same here.” She frowned. “I felt fine before, but I actually feel like I can breathe easier now.” 

There were murmurs of agreement. It still wasn't what Sana had just felt. Or seen. 

They started to clear the table. Sana put Dahyun’s uneaten food in a container and then into the fridge. Maybe she could tell her about the beauty of a midnight snack. Maybe she could ask her about how she balanced between the physical world, where needs like food and air were necessary, and the emotional one, where her blood could be made up of emotions and not cells and oxygen.

Questions like that might be able to help as well. She hoped they would. From what Gerst had told them and from what they’d seen, curiosity was one of the first emotions that had given Dahyun a piece of herself back. They needed to feed it.

“Do you really think it’ll help?” 

Sana turned to see Momo. Her eyes were locked on the floor. 

“You don’t?” Sana asked. She didn’t like the look in Momo's eyes. It seemed resigned. 

“She’s back from something no one’s ever come back from,” Momo replied. “We have no idea what that’s done to her.” 

Sana thought of the emotions she’d seen. Even though she had no idea why or how she was able to see it, she’d seen a hint of what Dahyun was feeling. She’d seen the emotions trying to smother her. For better or worse, Sana knew that Dahyun's current state of being was one of suffering. 

“And you’re saying what,” Mina came over, “that nothing’ll help her?” 

“Not that,” Momo said. “Just that you can’t expect her to be back to normal any time soon.” She chewed on her lip. “Maybe never.” 

Never. 

Sana couldn’t think that way. “Don’t say that.”

“It is possible,” Jeongyeon said. Her eyes held the same dejection as Momo’s. 

“So you want to just give up?” Nayeon frowned. “Give up on trying to help her get back on her feet?” 

“It’s not giving up,” Momo shook her head, “we’re there for her, we help make things bearable, and after that we’re still there for her.” A certainty had entered her voice. “All I’m saying is that we can't expect too much from her.”

Sana nodded. “I know.” 

The other almost looked surprised. As did Nayeon and Mina. 

“We don’t know what she was like with her clan or her family. We don’t know what she was like when they captured her," Sana said. They knew some of what she’d felt. Some of what she’d done, but that was far from everything. “But we do know what she was like afterwards. We know that she was starting to come back.”

Perhaps they'd disagree with her on that, but Gerst had said the same thing. And that had only been based on a description of her. 

Sana continued. “Dahyun was changing that entire time, and she’s different now, I’m not pretending she’s the same,” she paused. “But you can’t treat her like she’s a completely different person, because she’s not.” They also couldn't treat her like she was the same person. Sana couldn't pretend that her feelings were reciprocated, even if they had once been. She couldn't force anything on Dahyun. 

There was a sharp gasp. Then a cry. 

Sana rushed to where it came from. Something tore into her own mind. It was from Dahyun, but no colour was attached to it. The pain was small for Sana, but Dahyun’s grey and black eyes were filled with it. Tears were already beginning to form. The scent of rot returned. Together with that of ice, Sana felt the fear and grief creep back into her mind. 

“What happened?” Nayeon asked. 

“Excitement. Desire,” Dahyun murmured. When she blinked, tears fell. Her hand went to her chest. “Destroyed.” Her breath hitched and she closed her eyes. 

“Destroyed?” Chaeyoung’s voice came out as a hiss. 

Dahyun winced. “Careful with your anger.” 

Sana felt the ache of guilt return. She tried to reign in her anger, but she knew it wasn’t working. 

It hadn’t been enough that they took her emotions, but they were also destroying them. Not even using them. 

Then a cold hand took hold of hers. It felt like ice. There was a heart that beat several times its old pace. 

When Sana looked up, she saw the pain in Dahyun’s eyes. She saw the tears that clung to her lashes. Yet this same person had taken her hand. 

“I’m alright,” Dahyun said. “This will not kill me.” Her eyes shut again. A grey stain crept up her neck. Grief traced the sides of it. The black threads matched the route of the blood vessels there. 

Sana took Dahyun’s hand in both of her own. She felt flashes of terror as she sat there. They tugged at buried memories and old fears, but it didn’t matter. 

She didn’t know what she could do. Anything more than holding her hands would be too much. She knew that. 

How Sana wished she could give something back, but it wasn’t in her power. She’d learned that she didn’t have much of that. 

The grip on her hand tightened. The smell of death disappeared again. With it came a wince. Why would she still try this even if it hurt her?

Dahyun opened her eyes. Then she pulled the hand away. There was a small twitch of . 

“I’ll continue with the rest.” Her eyes glazed over, but the colour didn’t change to dark blue. 

Sana leaned back on the sofa, most of the tension leaving her. 

Although the scent of forests and mountains was all but gone, Sana still felt at ease in Dahyun’s presence. How could she not be the same person? She was there in the smallest of actions. The flow of words were still slow. Dahyun reached out when she felt she needed to, even if she was the one who needed the comfort. And if Sana wasn’t imagining it—

No. She wasn’t. She knew that the gentle edge to Dahyun’s gaze was still the same.

Someone curled into her side. She didn’t have to look to know who it was. 

“How are you?” Mina asked. She spoke Japanese. The other girls knew the language, but their accents were still strong. There was only one among them who didn’t know it. 

“Better,” Sana replied. 

“Me too.” A hand took hold of hers again. This one was warm. “She’s coming back.” 

Sana didn’t respond. Mina thought the same. She was still hopeful. 

“I know the emotions aren’t there,” Mina said softly. “But those memories, her trust in you. That part of her love is all still there." 

She shook her head. “That’s where you’re wrong.” 

Mina’s eyes turned sad. 

Momo was right there. Their now was different. Even if it tore at the fairy just as it did Sana, Dahyun knew that she didn’t feel the same as before. She wasn’t even sure if Dahyun would love her like she had.

Except that wasn’t the point. It could wait. And if it never happened, Sana would have to accept that as well, even if it hurt her. 

“I just,” Sana began. “We have to help her and,” she faltered. “I don’t know how.” 

The other girls were silent, but she knew they were listening. The movie played, but she knew it was going unwatched. 

“We start by giving her space when she needs it,” Mina replied. “And we'll be there for her when she needs us.” 

“But she won’t admit that.” 

“Which is why we have to tell the difference,” Mina gave her a small squeeze, “we know that much.”

From personal experience, Sana thought. It wasn’t as though she couldn’t read Dahyun anymore. She could. But she didn’t know what to do when she saw through the cracks in the blank gaze. She saw pain, disappointment, and exhaustion. It showed in the tension in her body when there was any foreign sound. It showed in how her shoulders dragged down when she walked or sat. 

All of that made it very clear that although they'd woken her up, Dahyun was still tied to those emotions. She was still haunted by all that had happened. And what Sana had seen after dinner had only cemented that fact. 

The only thing Sana could see herself doing was asking Dahyun to take some of the emotions that could help her, but she’d never accept them. The only other thing would be to—

Sana straightened. 

Mina looked up, parted to ask a question. 

“Where’re the other talismans?” 

The one that could have helped the most was destroyed, the other was with Gerst, and the other two were still hidden. 

Jeongyeon stood up, as did Jihyo. They left the house.

“Excitement and humour,” Mina murmured. “Where do you think they rank?”

“I don’t know,” Sana replied. “But excitement’s warm. I think humour will be too.”

Dahyun tried to hide it, but the constant cold ate away at her. It wasn’t anything blankets or thick clothes could help. The solution was a thin layer of calm over her skin. It was one that chased away the scent of rot in the air and gave her grey skin a light blue sheen. Yet she didn’t always have it on her. Sana was sure it was because it tired her out to even do that. 

Then the other two came in, the leather bands in hand. 

The scent of the emotions had combined to make something oddly refreshing. It was a combination of amber and hazelnut. Sana felt lighter. 

There was the urge to reach out to them, just as there was one to turn away. Sana didn’t reach out. Not if there was a chance of her absorbing those emotions. Dahyun wouldn’t take them away if it happened. 

______

When Dahyun finished, they put the talismans in front of her. 

She stared at them. “These were from the witch?” Her eyes gave nothing away. She didn’t seem interested or wary of them. 

“I think they were payment,” Chaeyoung said. 

“Anger,” Dahyun muttered. “Do not feel so enraged at that.” One of the talismans rose up into the air, orange threads curled off from it, before falling back down into the grooves of the wood. It drifted over to Dahyun’s outstretched hand. When it touched her skin, a faint glow entered her eyes, but neither the black or grey changed. 

Her expression softened. Her eyes closed. Sana watched as a small smile began to appear. The sight caused an ache to grow in her chest. It was longing. Longing to see that expression again. To see the smile grow. 

Then Dahyun let out a small breath. When she opened her eyes, Sana saw that the irises were rimmed with orange now. 

The talisman still held veins of the emotion. 

“Why didn’t you take everything?” Tzuyu asked. 

“It’s not all mine.” Dahyun dropped the talisman. It slid from her lap and over to Sana. 

Sana picked it up. She dropped it immediately, remembering what contact with it meant, but she was too late. 

She didn’t laugh, but the urge to bubbled up . The scent of hazelnuts filled her head. In the same moment, she saw a fire burning, around it sat several people. All of them had pointed ears and bright orange eyes, as though the