Fresh sighs, sitting down on the floor of their upstairs room, just next to the staircase as soon as she comes up. Shamrock comes up after her and she grabs his leg, just for the sake of doing so, with a tired arm as her head leans back against the stone wall. Jubilee and Basil come up a second later.

“What a day,” sighs Basil. Business had really picked up near the middle of the day.

“Yup,” says a tired Jubilee, dragging themselves past them and heading to the kitchen. “Like animals.”

Shamrock still stands there, having been trapped by the weak, tired hand binding him in place. Pulling her hand free from the joints of his armor, Shamrock sits down on the floor next to her, leaning back against the staircase door. Having effortlessly caught him in her snare, Fresh yawns and leans her head against his arm, closing her eyes. For a brief while, she considers asking him if she can install head-rest padding on the sides of his arms, for just such occasions.

But that would be rude. The man seems to have a strong connection to his armor and she doesn’t blame him in the least. It’s in a sense, the same thing as Jubilee’s mask.

“Shamrock?” calls Basil from the kitchen. “Wanna help me make dinner tonight?” she asks.

Fresh can hear the metal of his armor clanking as he turns his head, likely to look between her and the priestess to weigh his options. On one hand, he could stay here and get some personal attention from Fresh, which he certainly hasn’t gotten as of late. Or he could get up and continue working, despite having worked all day already. She’s tired and rubs the side of her face against his arm, knowing what his choice is going to be already. Does it hurt a little? Sure. But it’s not that she doesn’t understand.

Shamrock gets up again, having only sat for not even half a minute, gently pushing her head to the side as the suit of armor rises upwards. It was obvious, of course, that he would choose this over her. Shamrock might serve her as a member of the witches’ sect, but he has devoted his entire life to, in a sense, serving others and while she does understand it, she also wishes that he would take a day off for himself.

Relentlessly, in his past existence, he had thanklessly hunted monsters day and night all by himself without more than a few minutes pause now and then by the fountain, because he thought this would be the best way to help the world and now in this new life, he relentlessly works with them, without more than a few minutes pause now and then, because he thinks this is the best way to help the world.

Shamrock’s only real secret is his armor, but she has already seen through that. His goals, his motivations, his intentions are all very simple, very clean. He just wants to fight the metaphorical monsters of the world, in order to make things better.

“Thanks for always working so hard, Shamrock,” yawns Fresh, rubbing her tired eyes. “Let’s do something fun together, next time we have a day off,” she says, looking at him nodding back to her without so much as a word, as he then walks off towards the kitchen.

Shamrock is a fun name, she thinks. Shamrocks are considered lucky, aren’t they? It doesn’t feel like the man has had a lucky life, so it’s kind of sad, honestly.

Frowning, Fresh looks around the room, searching for Jubilee in order to cheer herself up. She spots them sitting at the table with their head laid down on top of crossed arms, a bottle of water next to themselves. Fresh sneakily worms her way over towards them, and works on coming up with a devious plan. Should she bite them in the leg? Maybe pinch them in the side? Maybe another tickle attack?

Jubilee’s shoulders droop in exhaustion as they sigh, their head still down on the table as they have for sure sensed her making an approach. Fresh freezes in place, hoping that Jubilee will lose track of her if she stops moving.

“What are you up to now?” asks Jubilee.

“Nothing,” says Fresh, looking away, sitting in the middle of the room on the floor, very unsuspiciously. She frowns, her plan has been ruined. Then again, maybe it’s for the best. It’s been a long day and Jubilee looks really tired. It would be mean to pick on them now. “Hey, Jubilee?”

“What?”

Fresh scoots over, leaning in. “Is your favorite color blue?”

Jubilee lifts their head from the table, looking at her for a moment. They place their head back down onto their arms, their masked face turned her way. “Yeah,” they say. “I lied about the green thing. Sorry,” admits Jubilee.

Fresh nods, so it was true. But she thinks she understands. Even while Jubilee was initially ‘opening up’ to her, they were still keeping an emotional distance for their own reasons. Now they’re in deep, though. The trap has been sprung on them as well and Fresh is starting to know her friend well enough to see through such mis-perceptions as this. She lifts her hands, placing them on the sides of the mask. Jubilee flinches back instinctively, but doesn’t pull away. Fresh beams, pulling the mask off and setting it onto the table. Yawning, she sits herself down on the floor again and rests her head against Jubilee’s leg, closing her eyes.

She’s really tired. But at least that’s one more secret revealed. Now she just has to find out what the big issue around the central-city and her friend’s confusing testimonies of it had all been all about.

“So what’s the plan for tomorrow?” asks Basil, chopping some vegetables with a large knife.

“I’m gonna be doing a thing tomorrow,” says Fresh. The materials for the barkeeper’s ritual should be ready. “So you’re gonna have to run the store without me.”

“Do you need any help?” asks Basil.

“No, thank you,” says Fresh. “I’m gonna use our cut-off space in the guild,” she says. “I can just drag her in there, right?” she asks, meaning the barkeeper.

“Should work,” says Jubilee. “Just don’t invite her to the party.”

“I won’t,” yawns Fresh.

“And don’t do anything stupid,” adds Jubilee.

“Uh…” Fresh thinks for a moment. “I’ll try…”

The four of them stay like that for a while until dinner is ready, at which point Fresh manages to struggle her way off of the floor. They eat inside today, as it’s a bit chilly outside for the sleep-deprived. Basil and Shamrock had made a large pot of a rich, spicy, vegetable filled curry of sorts that they eat with a loaf of purchased flat-bread. It’s very good. The two of them clearly put in a lot of effort.

“So I put some bottles of less mild soap and stuff into the shower,” says Basil while they’re eating. “The sea-water is really weird for my hair, otherwise.”

Fresh nods, taking a moment to run her fingers through her own hair which has gotten pretty long, reaching down past her shoulders now. The sea-water has been giving their hair a somewhat more matte look, which isn’t entirely bad. But it does need a good washing now and then. She turns her head, looking at Jubilee’s hair. It’s white and she wonders if that’s a demon thing? Jubilee doesn’t seem that much older or younger than she herself is. They’re just a lot more world-weary.

Feeling her staring, Jubilee, turns their head. She still can’t for the life of herself figure out what gender they are and now that their face is clearly visible, it feels like it would be twice as rude to ask than it was before. Jubilee’s features are very sharp as they don’t weigh much and from what she can see of their small body, they are somewhat muscular even. But that all doesn’t really point one way or the other, especially in this world.

“What?” asks Jubilee.

“Uh, nothing!” says Fresh. “I’m just happy we can finally eat together at one table, Jubilee.” She turns her head, looking at Basil, who still seems a bit uneasy, but has managed to calm herself down over the course of the day. She probably still needs a little while to sleep on it, is all. “Thanks for the food, Basil, Shamrock. It’s really good,” she says, taking a long drink of coconut-water. It’s also very spicy. The food that is, not the coconut-water.

Once dinner is over, the four of them clean up and Fresh gets ready for bed, coming back a little while later as she drags herself towards her bed like a shuffling zombie. “Good night, Jubilee. Good night, Basil. Good night, Shamrock,” she yawns, crawling into her bed from the bottom of her sky-blue blanket and worming her way through it, until she reaches her pillow.

Just like every night, she listens to the rattle of the door as Basil checks it one last time, making sure no crab finds its way inside while they sleep and she listens to the clanking of Shamrock’s armor, as he closes the balcony door and makes his way to his bed. Now she’s just missing the sharp sound of Jubilee’s door closing, which should arrive in three… two… one…

Fresh waits.

‘One’, she repeats again in her mind.

Nothing happens.

Opening her eyes, she sits upright just in time to see the pillow fly her way, hitting her in the face and flopping down next to her. She watches as Jubilee approaches, sitting on the side of her bed.

“Scoot,” is all that Jubilee says and Fresh obliges, realizing the weight of this gesture. She was getting a ‘free’ sleepover. Is that a childish and weird thing to get excited about? Maybe. But she’s childish and weird and so far, that lifestyle has been working out well for her. Sort of. She scoots back against the wall, letting Jubilee lay down next to her as she covers them both with her blanket, closing her eyes and wrapping her arm around their stomach, pulling themselves together.

“You sure?” asks a snarky voice. Fresh doesn’t get the context of the question and opens her eyes again, seeing Basil standing there too. “I might bite,” mocks Jubilee. “Though you’d probably like that.”

“I’ve finally come to understand why you’re so rude,” says Basil, sitting down on the edge of the bed as well. “It’s just in your nature, as much as a warthog wants to dig through the mud.”

“Okay. Now I’m definitely going to bite you,” says Jubilee, scooting back closer to Fresh to make room. She finds herself being squished against the wall, but it isn’t so bad, really.

“I dare you,” says Basil, laying down too. As if provoking Jubilee, she lays facing towards them, trapping them between her and Fresh. “Ow!” yelps Basil, twitching together just as her arm laid itself over the other way. “You bit me!”

“Told you.”

“Jubilee, don’t bite Basil,” scolds Fresh, waiting for the inevitable arrival of Shamrock who she is secretly beckoning over with a waving finger above her blanket, like she had done for Basil as well. Truly, she is a wicked, selfish creature.

“You bit us like five times on the way here, goo-brain,” says Jubilee.

“That was different!” argues Fresh. “Those were friendship-bites.”

Jubilee sighs. “That’s not a thing,” they say. “You can’t just do dumb things and then make up words for those dumb things like they’re perfectly normal.”

“They are perfectly normal!” she protests, considering biting Jubilee for a moment to prove her point. But she’s too tired.

There is a loud sound of something shifting and she opens her eyes, looking at Shamrock who is opting to drag his entire bed over next to hers. She supposes this is the only reasonable option, he can’t just always sleep on the floor every time they have one of these nights. Of course, if he ditches the armor, he could fit into the bed too. But she understands why that isn’t an option. Maybe one day.

Sure, the fountain causes her a lot of misery and angst with its plans and dark intentions often. But sometimes, she also gets a payout like this and the universe all just seems to balance itself out a little.

Now, is it really balanced? In a karmic sense? With all the harm she’s caused, is she deserving of warm, happy moments like this? If such a thing as karma exists in this world, then she is sure the answer would be a clear, resounding ‘no’.

But here she is, her arms wrapped around two of her friends and her fingers grasping the metal hand of the third. She nuzzles her face against the back of Jubilee’s head, smelling their hair. Here she is, all of the fountain's obligations to her have been fulfilled. She’s made money. She’s made friends. She is happy.

Fresh yawns a second time and then falls asleep.