“What the hell do you mean, you’re from another world?! Did you not think that would’ve been a good thing to start with?!”

Though the daylight had been piercing the translucent curtains of Herring’s bedside window for many fall hours, it was only around noon that he’d woken up. It’d been instant. A complete transition from one state of existence to the exact opposite—peaceful and asleep to immediate chaos upon waking. He didn’t have time to be groggy; all he needed was answers.

He vigorously shook Redlette about, jostling her awake. Despite how rarely she slept, she wasn’t hard to bring to consciousness. It had only taken a beat or two for her to snap right awake, disoriented. Her heavy snores broke in a gurgling, choking sound. Much like Herring, she didn’t have time to be groggy—she wasn’t given time. “Wh-What’s going on? Herring…?”

“Yeah.” Herring calmed down, releasing Redlette and letting her stumble back on the bed. “I need answers, Redlette. I couldn’t wait for you to wake up. Why are you here?”

“Well…” Redlette’s words trailed off as she searched her mind for the best response. It was likely still too soon after waking for her to think. So, vying time for herself, she offered a suggestion; although, it was more likely that her stomach won against her desire to explain. “How about we talk over breakfast? I’m famished.”

Stunned. Disappointed. Herring’s expression was a mask of the two emotions, causing the life to drain from his face. Does she only think about food? He wondered to himself. It was like collapsing the floor from under him after telling him it was okay to walk on it. Just when it’d seemed as though he’d get some answers, he was deprived of the opportunity.

But even still, it wasn’t an unreasonable request. If what Redlette said was true, they had limited time in the day and little to waste. He still wasn’t quite sure about the details, though. Plus, it was hard to believe—so very hard. The whole ordeal could be just another ploy to mess with him. If it was, though, he’d be thoroughly impressed. She seemed genuinely troubled every time she brought up the subject of the supposed other world. It must’ve been a sensitive topic.

So, Herring went forth with her suggestion. He rose from his bed and equipped a pair of slippers he kept by his door. Then, he turned over to Redlette, “I don’t suppose you have anything you can’t or won’t eat?”

“...Nope!” It took a second for Redlette to break free from her thoughts to respond, but when she did, she carried a bright, appeased grin. Food seemed to be her one true passion in life, so there was little doubt in its authenticity. She was ecstatic at the idea of breakfast.

“Alright, I’ll go fetch you something. Try and get your thoughts together, please. I’m expecting answers when I return.” He didn’t wait for a reply before exiting the room, leaving Redlette to her own devices. He didn’t need to hear a response, so he didn’t stick around to do so. On top of that, he was rather hungry, himself. The sooner he could get food, the better.

He meandered down the carpeted stairs, letting their creaks sound his awakening throughout the house. Upon arrival in the foyer, he quickly peeked into the living room—empty. It was always weird to see it without his sister inside, but it was the weekend. Jenny might’ve been busy.

Maybe she’s at work already? He began wondering to himself, but his thoughts were instantly countered as he turned to head towards the kitchen on the other side of the foyer. As if following a script, Jenny burst out of the kitchen door dressed in her work uniform—a pizza delivery ensemble that consisted of a black polo highlighted with a red logo and her usual brown sweatpants. Her usually messy hair was poorly brushed to a point where it’d be just barely considered passable. It was an interesting juxtaposition of a style, or lack thereof, but much like Herring, Jenny didn’t much care about how she looked. She simply wanted to be comfortable.

“Oh, you’re up early.” Jenny commented, passing shoulders with Herring as she hastily threw on her work shoes. She must’ve been running late. Her words could’ve been seen as a sarcastic jab, but she was being genuine. On a normal weekend, Herring didn’t leave his room until dusk. Her following statement, though, lacked the same honesty that her previous surprise had. “I wonder why that could be…”

“Hm?” Herring picked up on the somewhat strange nature of Jenny’s words, but acted as though he’d missed her musing, “You’re heading out?”

“Nah, I just felt like dressing up for work today.” Jenny replied snidely.

“You do have strange habits like that… Sometimes I worry about you, my sister. Are you sure there’s nothing wrong with you? That’s not exactly what I’d call normal.” Herring responded equally sarcastically, meeting Jenny’s remark like it was a challenge. It was their usual bout.

“Oh, would you can it? I don’t have time to babysit your ego.” Jenny shook on a jacket before leaving, shrugging off Herring’s provocation. She swung open the mudroom door before calling back to her brother one last time on her way out, “I made myself some lunch today, so I left you something to eat. It should be in the fridge.”

And with that, she was gone. Herring stood there for a moment, making sure she didn’t double back, before heading straight into the kitchen. Jenny had, apparently, made him lunch… which pretty much meant that she’d made Redlette lunch, considering that he’d need to bestow it upon her for answers, like a devout priest offering a sacrifice of food for a god.

Still, it was strange that Jenny of all people had made him lunch. She typically left him to fend for himself. Sure, she was obligated to provide him with food, but she never cooked him anything. He had to make whatever he wanted himself. Herring supposed she’d explained it with making herself something to eat, but it remained off-putting. On top of that, she’d brushed her hair. Even when she had work, she never put that much attention into her appearance. Although, it was only somewhat tamed.

It was upon opening the fridge that Herring’s suspicions had come to light and plunged his psyche into darkness. Both her making the food and combing her hair had one goal. To create a good first impression on somebody.

Jenny hadn’t just made one meal, but two. Sitting there in their sparse fridge were two plates of saran wrapped ham sandwiches with a note hastily scrawled and stuck to the wrapping of the leftmost one, which was probably intended for Herring. The note held a ghastly aura to it and Herring hesitated to read it. He’d been found out, he knew that much.

The note’s message wasn’t long, nor was it incriminating. This offered some modicum of relief to Herring, but the actual contents of the note was just as he’d feared:

“I never knew you had a self-typing keyboard. I wish you’d told me that when I was grilling you last night.”

That was the whole message—its succinctness was threatening. She knew Redlette was here. The whole time she’d been asking Herring questions the previous night she’d known. She’d heard the keyboard and chose not to ask about it. Herring didn’t know whether he should be thankful towards his sister for letting his lies slide or spiteful towards her for not being upfront with him. He thought back to the previous night, to his sister sitting there knowingly as she listened to him squirm and stumble over his story. In the battle of thankfulness and spite, spite’s poison was far more powerful. But embarrassment, a last-minute contender in the battle, ended up winning, circumventing spite as Herring thought back on the confrontation.

He’d just have live with it. No matter how much he ruminated over his sister’s questions, or lack thereof, he couldn’t change anything. So, he just snatched the sandwiches, at least thankful for them. He hated being in the wrong. No longer wanting to think about it, he dashed up stairs to meet Redlette, hoping that she’d finally got her own thoughts together.

In the short time that he had been gone, Herring found that his room had been transformed.

Plastered on his door was a piece of paper reading “Redlette’s Theater” and upon entering the room, even more things had been changed. Sprawled across the ground was a collection of his figurines, placed in a manner that implied purpose; although what purpose was lost on Herring. In addition, his bed had been stripped of its sheets and its comforter laid folded into a neat little square near his closet on the left-most wall. Lastly, there was a ten hour compilation of fantasy town music blaring from the speakers on Herring’s computer, thus completing the atmosphere. It was a convoluted and messy set up, but all the while impressive for Redlette to have put together in such a short period of time.

Finally stepping into the room, Herring allowed the door to slowly shut behind him. He was having trouble processing what was going on. He looked around for Redlette, who was nowhere to be seen amongst the chaos. Not knowing what else to do, he walked over towards his bed, calling out to her “I… I got your food! It’s breakfast… sorta…”

It was as he was nearing his destination that a certain someone burst out of his closet, swiping her dish full of fervor. It was a strange girl, dressed with Herring’s bed sheets as a cape. Over her head was a plastic, reusable grocery store bag that had once housed the few childhood toys that remained within his closet. Holes had been cut within the bag to allow the girl to see out of it… and for the large ears that protruded out of her head.

Recovering from the startle of being jumped at from out of nowhere, Herring’s face became a cold slate of unamused bewilderment. “Redlette, what are you doing?”

“I am not Redlette.” Redlette declared, already unwrapping her sandwiches as she walked towards the comforter square. Then, turning once more to face Herring, she rapidly extended her right arm straight to her side, causing her sheet-cape to flutter in the pale noon light that made its way through the now open bedside window. “I am the traveling bard of legends, here to recount tales of old, whether they be notable or not—the one and only, Reddler!”

“Reddler? What kind of name is that?”

“It is mine!” Redlette proclaimed, sitting herself on the comforter cross-legged, supposedly assuming a bardic pose. “Now, boy, sit over there and I shall recount my tale—or I mean, Redlette’s tale. Not mine.”

“Right…” Herring warily eyed the ‘bard’ before heading over to the area she’d indicated. Sitting in his desk chair on the opposite side of the room, he looked down upon the figures Redlette had laid out, which were now all facing him. Apparently, the room had been set up with the idea of him sitting there. ”Ah, so this is how you’re gonna go about explaining things.”

“Indeed! Now let us begin!” With that being said, Redlette began to rearrange the collection of figures. She started by placing four figures in a circle on top of a pair of hardback light novels—the pink-haired bunny guide, the skeleton lord, the masochistic crusader, and the white-haired rebel of immanity. They were placed in a manner that implied that they could be meeting amongst one another, which caused Herring to chuckle meekly. It was an awkward grouping of characters and he knew that Redlette didn’t know anything about them. The choices of characters seemed to be wholly aesthetically driven.

Then, finishing her scene, Redlette moved another figure to the side of the book, facing the others—the small bookworm. With the set-up complete, she began her tale, motioning towards the bookworm as she started speaking. “Once upon a time… There was a girl born by the goddesses of the world of Creation. She was created to be a deity, but immediately confined in a closet. Tasked with governing the world’s cycle of events, she was meant to make the world fun, managing its events and difficulty—she’d be the Deity of Recreation. However, her existence was wrong, a mistake, and her mothers had to hide her.”

Continuing the story, the crusader and the bunny girl were moved towards the bookworm. They were jostled up and down to give off the idea that they were talking to the bookworm; however, Redlette remained silent. It looked like she wanted to speak up, but she couldn’t find the words. Then, she moved them away and the skeleton lord took their place. “After a year of hiding, she was found by the god of death. A great argument occurred amongst the gods, and the girl soon found herself banished to the world below—defenseless.”

The books were dragged out of the scene, leaving the bookworm standing there, alone. As soon as Redlette found the strength to continue, she began gently moving the bookworm all around, aimlessly. “No idea how to live life. No longer with any godly powers, the girl wandered. She was starving without the need to eat, thirsty without the need to drink, exhausted without the need to sleep. Alone. She’d never been taught how to live life—she didn’t even know how to make conversation.”

The bookworm figure found its way to Herring’s bedside and was placed underneath. “Eventually she found a cave, where she lived for hundreds of years doing nothing.”

A new figure was pulled out, this time it was the half-alvan enchanter. It was moved towards the bookworm, standing just beside the bed, facing it. “One day she was found by an adventurer. And taken in.”

The two figures were picked up and placed back in front of Redlette, this time on a new pair of light novels. They were moved around the book’s cover, making all sorts of motions. Herring could only imagine what Redlette was trying to signify. “Together they lived a happy life. The adventurer recalled tales of his plights as well as legends of people—heroes—summoned from another world. Through this, the girl learned how to communicate with others and took a great interest in fantasy and adventure. But more importantly, she felt an urge to move to that world that the heroes had come from. After all, her world had never done anything for her.”

Just like before, the book was moved out of the scene and, along with it, the enchanter. This once more left the bookworm alone as she moved around the room randomly again, giving off the idea that she was traveling. “Leaving without a word, the girl made up her mind. She would find and live in that other world. So, she looked for a way there, exploring endlessly until she succeeded.”

The bookworm figure was moved towards another figure, the witch of greed, located next to Redlette. The two faced each other as Redlette pulled out something that was tucked within the waistband of her shorts. Herring hadn’t even noticed it was there—a rusty pair of scissors that looked like they could crumble into dust any second. She moved the witch forwards, acting as though it handed the scissors to the bookworm, and then the bookworm returned to the bedside. “After a long search, the girl found scissors that could use her immense magic to cut between worlds. However, she only had enough remaining hard magic for a roundtrip. So, returning to her cave of isolation one last time, she cut between the realities of the worlds, touching down in a city in the world of heroes.”

Making its final journey the bookworm figure was moved towards Herring where it stopped. Then, without warning, Redlette took off the bag that was covering her face and rushed over to Herring, sitting in front of him with the figure. Her face had a darkened and forlorn look that brightened upon nearing him, having reflected the pain that telling her tale had incurred upon her. Her story had been rather barebones, but it was enough for Herring to get a gist. He wouldn’t push her for more details… at least not yet.

“There…” Redlette’s voice trembled as the story neared the present, “There in the world of heroes, the girl met all kinds of great people… but most of all, she met someone like her. Someone who loved living for the sake of fun and felt outcast by his world! Someone she could have fun with and relate to! It was her first friend.”

“Redlette…” Herring’s heart felt shattered. In all his time of knowing Redlette, he’d just written her off as his goofy playmate. He never imagined that she had so much on her mind or how hard her life had been. How could he have? It was a ridiculous story—the type that was completely out of this world crazy. Literally. But for his friend, the same girl who seemed to always be smiling and laughing, messing up and messing with him… For that same girl to be carrying such a burden. It infuriated Herring. But his rage was momentary as Redlette’s eyes, shaking like they were holding back tears, met his with the most genuine expression he could imagine.

“That friend was a complete nerd, though. A loser in all meanings of the word! And I don’t even know more than one meaning of most words. But… But he made her think.” Redlette paused and looked around the room, her gaze landing on each of the figures that were scattered across the floor as she took everything in. Then, turning back to face Herring, she beamed with a smile wet with tears. “This guy loves this kinda crap! He loves stories of fantasy and splendor, and I bet he’d also love to go on an adventure with me. Because, I know he loves me, too. We’re best friends after all.”

Standing up, Redlette hid her face from Herring as she wiped off her tears, her face flush with embarrassment for having let her feelings overwhelm her. When her emotions had stabilized, she outstretched a hand towards Herring, offering to pick him off of the chair. It was a hand of partnership and opportunity—one that promised to take him into a new future. “So, I thought, maybe I could go back and do it right this time. I loved those tales of adventures as a kid, but I never had anybody to go on adventures of my own with. And as I said, I really did hate that world. But I think I could get past that if I had you with me. So how about it?”

Herring’s mind should’ve been racing. The magnitude of what Redlette was asking from him should’ve been more than he could’ve comprehended. He’d spent his whole life within one town, and now he was being asked to do something as unbelievable as go on an adventure in another world. It would’ve been one thing if his classroom had been suddenly warped by a magical spell or if he met a sudden and unfortunate death… but he was being given the choice to go to another world. Maybe that was why he could accept it. It wasn’t out of nowhere.

Redlette was right before him, her ears and tail standing on end with anticipation. He’d been looking at them since meeting her. He knew that she couldn’t be from this world, and having slept in the same bed as her, he’d felt their warmth radiate across him as he slept. There was no doubt to him that everything was real. So, that was why he could do what he did.

Brushing past Redlette’s extended hand, he quickly tugged on her tail to confirm its authenticity for certain. It was real. Then, not even waiting for her to react, he made his way to his closet, carefully dodging around the figures still sprawled across his floor, and retrieved a small password locked box from the top shelf on his tip toes.

“Hey! How come you yanked my tail?! You ruined a perfectly good moment! And what about my question—” Redlette rushed after Herring, meeting him halfway on his way back towards her. She was upset at his sudden actions, sure, but she was also very easily distracted. Before she could start chewing him out, she was already too focused on the box. “Ooo! What’s that?”

Herring was now sat back at his desk and tinkering with the box, entering a letter code to unlock it. Redlette, forgetting what she’d been doing, went over to check it out, arriving just as it clicked open. Without giving her the chance to look inside, he shoved the box into her hand, allowing her to see it for herself. “This is a unique scenario, so I think we should take full advantage of it. Don’t you agree?”

Money, and lots of it. That’s what was inside the box. It was Herring’s life savings, and if he was going to another world, he assumed there’d be no reason to hang onto them. He was being given the opportunity to plan his trip. He wasn’t being rushed out the door, nor was he being suddenly brought to another world. So, he figured, he might as well provision.

“Take advantage…? You mean…?” Redlette stood there, looking back and forth between the money and Herring. The realization of what Herring meant finally struck her mind. However, it hadn’t needed to. As she came to the truth, Herring was already in her face, shouting at her:

“Of course I’ll go on an adventure with you! Did you even have to ask?! You’re my best friend, dumbass!”

It was a firm response. Far firmer than Redlette could’ve either imagined or hoped for. Herring knew this, so he wasn’t wasting time. Daylight was burning and a monumental list of things he wanted—no, needed—to do and purchase before his trip had formed. “Now, c’mon. We’re going shopping.”

Once more stunned, Redlette remained frozen to the floor. However, bubbling over in happiness and excitement, she couldn’t stand there for long. Chasing after Herring, who had already started out the door, she jumped up and hugged him from behind, swinging around his torso. This promptly caused Herring to stagger and fall forward to ground, faceplanting. But as he rolled over onto his back, he couldn’t contain himself either. He began laughing at the absurdity of the situation he found himself in. Of course, Redlette joined him.

An adventure in another world, huh… Herring stared fondly at Redlette through gasps of breath, marveling at the pure elation that shined from her face. He couldn’t help but feel light of heart, too. Seeing Redlette so happy, it made him even happier than her. With this idiot, there’s no way that’ll be easy. But at the very least, it’ll be fun. A lot of fun. A pain… and a ton of fun…

…

…Man, when did I become so corny?

Left behind as the two headed off was a messy room with an unlocked box on a desk chair. It was wide open and empty. A passcode had been entered and was prominently displayed on the box’s top half—

R-E-D-L-E-T: it only had six characters to use, but at least it got the point across. So long as it was said out loud.