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There’s a letter on top of Coco’s desk. While that’s strange enough, what’s even stranger is the contents said letter contains. Written in a messy scrawl, there are only two words in it: PLEASE LEAVE.
Coco stares at it for a long time.
Is this really for her? No, there’s no denying it—her name is written in blocky letters on the envelope. The writing looks like it’s been erased and rewritten multiple times, almost as if the sender was going back and forth on whether or not to finish it.
Well, that’s certainly interesting, to say the very least. Normally, Coco would be excited about a new mystery to solve, but this one has a twinge of something bitter behind it. Does someone not like her? Why so?
Coco turns it vertically, horizontally, upside down, right-side up. No matter what angle she looks at it, this mystery person doesn’t want her around.
Is it even fair to ask why? Should she apologize—wait, how can she apologize if she doesn’t know who the sender is?
Right there in front of her desk, Coco vows to find out who gave this to her and why.
“W-What!?” Tartah sputters from his spot on the rug. The fire next to them warms Coco from head to toe, even though it’s the middle of the day. She’s still not used to how chilly the winters are here. “Are you sure that’s all it said?”
“Yeah. Why do you think I got it?” Coco asks. She collapses on the couch and holds it high up in the air, scrutinizing it for further details. Is there something she missed? “I wonder what I did…”
“I’m sure you didn’t do anything!” Tartah squawks, scrambling up to a sitting position. “Who d’you think it could be?”
“I’m not sure.” Even Agott’s warmed up to her by this point, so she can’t think of anyone who would dislike her enough to write this. Besides, it doesn’t look like Agott’s handwriting at all—like everything else she does, it’s prim and proper without blemishes or faults. Coco peers over her shoulder to watch her write from time to time, right up until Agott notices and yells at her to leave her alone. Her hand glides across the page, a smooth motion that leaves Coco transfixed.
(Coco feels a small pang in her chest at the thought of Agott disliking her. They’ve grown past that, right? Slowly but surely Agott’s warmed up to her, occasionally helping Coco with her studies if she’s stuck on a particular glyph. Every smile Agott sends Coco’s way feels like something to be cherished.)
“Maybe they didn’t have time to finish what they were writing,” Tartah continues, yanking Coco out of her thoughts. “I mean, I can’t think of any other reason why someone would send that.”
Coco sighs. “I hope so; I’d hate to think I did something wrong. Should I do something about it?”
Tartah brightens. “I know! You should talk to Mr. Qifrey about it!”
Oh, that’s…actually a good idea. Why didn’t Coco think of that earlier? “You’re right! Thanks, Tartah,” Coco says, abruptly standing up. “I’ll talk to you later!”
“Wait—I didn’t mean right now,” Tartah protests, but Coco’s already long gone in pursuit of her master.
“It randomly showed up on my desk,” Coco explains, bouncing on her heels. “I don’t recognize the handwriting, and I don’t know why anyone would give it to me.”
Qifrey hums. “Quite interesting. If you wouldn’t mind, may you show me the letter?”
“Sure! Here you go,” Coco says, thrusting it at him.
Qifrey smiles at her as he begins to open it, but that smile soon fades as he looks at the contents. “This is…?”
“I don’t get it either! I’m trying to remember if I did anything to make anyone mad, but I can’t think of anything.” Coco sighs and slots her chin between her thumb and pointer finger. “Do you have any idea of who it could be?”
Qifrey has a strange look on his face as he examines the letter once more. “Master, you don’t look so good. Are you alright?” Coco asks.
“Yes dear, I’m fine; thank you for your concern,” Qifrey says, but his expression doesn’t change at all. “Just one question: You’re sure this is for you?”
Coco nods. “Yup. I mean, it had my name on it, so I’d assume so.”
There’s a hefty pause before Qifrey says, “I see. Would you excuse me for a moment?” Coco opens her mouth to respond, but Qifrey’s gone before she gets the chance.
It’s a long time before Qifrey gets back, and Coco’s been dying of impatience for every second of it.
Tartah left a little while ago—about ten minutes—so Coco’s left to stew in her own thoughts. PLEASE LEAVE, the letter reads. No matter how many times Coco reads it, those two little words never change, never warp into something kinder.
It feels bad, to say the very least. Coco loves everyone she’s met at the atelier, so the thought that one of them hates her…? It’s unbearable.
Thankfully, the door squeaks open before Coco gets too lost in her head, with Qifrey poking his head through and calling out, “Coco? Are you there?”
“Master Qifrey!” Coco cries out, bounding over towards him. “What was that about? Is everything alright?”
“Everything’s fine,” Qifrey says, patting her head. “I just had a talk with Agott.”
Coco frowns. “Agott? Why her?”
Gone is Qifrey’s queasy look from before, replaced with one of his usual smiles. “Coco. Agott wants to talk to you on the hill[1]—is that alright?”
Coco blinks. “Sure, Master Qifrey, but why so?”
“That’s for you and Agott to discuss. Try to get back before dinner, okay?” Nothing in Qifrey’s body language or expression changes, but there’s something steely behind his voice that makes Coco pause.
“…alright,” she says tentatively, “I’ll go right now. Are you sure everything’s okay?”
Qifrey’s smile deepens. “Everything’s just fine. Now, off you go.” Coco goes to grab the door handle, giving him one last backward glance before shutting it behind her.
Coco reaches the top of the hill to see Agott rocking back and forth on her heels.
There’s something uneasy in the air that makes Coco uneasy—something’s up with Agott, but she isn’t sure what. “Hi…” Coco starts. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.
Agott’s eyes turn downcast toward the ground. “I’m guessing Master Qifrey sent you.”
Coco nods. “Yeah. Do you know what for?”
“Yes, I do.” Agott leans her head back and massages her temple. “He told me I have to tell you that…that I’m the one who gave you the letter.”
Coco’s lips part in surprise. “You’re the one that put it on my desk?” she asks, ignoring the soul-crushing dread that accompanies it. Does Agott really not want her around? She thought they’d been getting along as of late, but apparently, she was wrong.
“…yes,” Agott admits. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Coco says, and means it. While it does hurt, well—Agott’s entitled to her own opinion of her. Coco can’t magically make Agott like her, no matter how much she wishes she could. “Why did you?”
Agott groans. “Do I have to say? It’s embarrassing.”
Coco moves in more—now that she’s closer, she can see a faint blush dusting her cheeks. That’s strange.
“You don’t have to,” Coco says, “but I’d like to know if that’s okay with you.”
“Alright. Alright.” Agott inhales and exhales sharply. “It’s because—it’s because I like you!” she shouts—yes, actually shouts—with her hands clenched into fists.
Coco’s face breaks into a relieved smile. “That’s great! I like you, too!” While she’s suspected for a while now, the affirmation is always nice. Agott can be finicky at times, so Coco takes this admission and keeps it close to her heart.
“No, not like that.” Agott’s face is bright red as she grabs Coco’s hands. “Like this.”
“What do you me—” Coco starts, right up until it hits her like a sack of bricks. Oh.
“You…like me?” Coco asks, blinking rapidly. The words feel foreign on her tongue. While she’s gotten a handful of confessions back at the village, for some reason it feels different this time. It might be because Agott’s a girl, but that still doesn’t explain the butterflies in Coco’s stomach. “Why did you tell me to leave, then?”
Agott pulls away from Coco to begin pacing around; Coco feels the urge to grab her hands back, but doesn’t act upon it. “Ugh—it’s so stupid. I’m supposed to be practicing, to be working to become a librarian at the Tower of Tomes. I don’t have time for this. These feelings.” Agott sneers at the word ‘feelings’. “It’s so frustrating! Why can’t they go away?”
Something shrivels in Coco’s gut at Agott’s words—any joy she may feel over her confession is swiftly replaced by the cold, hard, truth: Agott doesn’t want her here. “So…you want me to leave?”
Agott sighs and collapses on the grass, face buried in her hands. After a moment’s hesitation, Coco copies her. “Yes. And no. I wish I could just—not like you. Everything would be so much easier.”
Coco’s voice is small as she asks, “Why not?” She isn’t sure why, but the thought of Agott not wanting to like her—well, it hurts.
“I mean, I already know you don’t feel the same way. Maybe I should be the one to leave. Save as little face as I can.”
Oh, Coco hasn’t thought about it. What does it mean to like someone? “Well…how do you know you like me?”
Agott takes her head out of her hands to shoot Coco a look—her face is still as red as a tomato. “Are you making fun of me?”
“I’m not!” Coco insists.
Agott seems to tell that she’s telling the truth, because she looks down at the ground and continues. “When I’m around you my heart skips a beat. Whenever we touch it’s all I can think about for the rest of the day, and whenever you smile at me I feel dizzy.”
Her smile, huh. Well, that makes it easy—Agott’s smile is one of the things Coco loves most in the entire world, almost as much as magic. “What makes you think I don’t like you?” Coco asks.
“You can’t. You shouldn’t. There’s no way,” Agott says, squeezing her eyes shut.
Coco grins as she slides closer to Agott, puts her hand on top of her clenched fist. Agott likes her. It feels surreal, the thought that she has feelings for her. Up until a few minutes ago, Coco wasn’t entirely sure if Agott disliked her or not. “You should have more confidence in yourself,” she sings.
Agott’s eyes flutter open as she snaps her head to stare at Coco. “W-What do you mean?”
“And what if I do like you?”
Coco isn’t sure how it’s possible, but Agott manages to flush even harder. “You…you do?”
Coco nods. “Mhm. I do.”
“…oh.” At that, Agott flips her hand around to intertwine her fingers with Coco’s. “Then…is this okay?”
“Mhm,” Coco repeats. Agott swallows and nods, turns her head to look at the scenery in front of them. Even to this day, Coco still finds it stunning.
They don’t talk after that, only relishing in each other’s presence. Coco’s heart is beating hard in her chest, and her head feels dizzy. To steady herself, she leans her head on Agott’s shoulder, resting in the crook of her neck. Agott tenses at the sudden touch, and then relaxes.
“Is this okay?” Coco asks, even though she already knows the answer.
“Yes. Yes, it’s okay,” Agott says softly.
Coco hums. “Good.”
The sun’s setting at this point, illuminating the atelier in hues of pinks and oranges. It’s pretty, but even still…
“I think you’re pretty. Do you know that?” Coco asks. It’s a gross understatement—there’s something about Agott that exudes grace, elegant yet fierce at the same time. It’s always been something that’s left Coco awestruck. Agott is much more beautiful than any sunset, at least to Coco.
At that, Agott pushes her away. Coco frowns. Should she not have said that? She doesn’t see why she shouldn’t have. “You can’t— You can’t just say something like that!” Agott stammers, beginning to stand.
“Eh? Why not?” Coco asks, also standing. “Did I say something wrong?”
“No…it’s embarrassing, though,” Agott says. She mumbles something that Coco can’t quite catch.
“Did you say something?” Coco asks.
Agott clears her throat and says louder than necessary, “I said, I think you’re pretty, too.”
Ah. Coco’s face heats up at Agott’s declaration. “You really think so?”
Agott averts Coco’s gaze, instead choosing to grab her hand. “You don’t have to rub it in. Come on, let’s go back. Dinner’s probably ready by now.”
“Okay!” Coco says, beaming. Agott thinks she’s pretty. Amazing. Coco has treasured every compliment Agott’s given her, but this might be the most amazing one out of all of them.
Coco hums and swings their hands back and forth as they walk back to the atelier, and Agott only shakes her head and smiles.
