You don’t really remember when you met Mashiho. You don’t remember how you got so close, either.
You don’t remember ever visiting his house, seeing him in a class without you, or meeting any other members of his family. It seems like he’s just always been there.
You don’t mind. He’s always kind to you, he never pushes your boundaries, and the two of you never have a lull in conversation.
Lately, though, he’s been acting kind of strange.
Sitting in your English class, he takes a seat further from the windows than usual. That doesn’t stop him from looking out them, however. He glances at the forest through the glass every ten minutes or so, always managing to look away before the teacher notices. You’re sat next to him, up against the wall. Pretending to pay attention to the teacher, you tear a small scrap of paper from the back of your notebook, scribble your message on it, and slide it under Mashiho’s paper.
He doesn’t notice, which is also odd. Usually, by the time you start to write your message, Mashiho is looking over your shoulder, reading the words as you write them. You pause for a moment, looking out the window as well, trying to see what he’s looking at. You think you see a faint purple light, glimmering just on the outside of the wood, but you blink, and it’s gone. You poke Mashiho, pointing to your paper with the backside of your pencil.
His eyes scan the words. “What’s wrong?” Your handwriting is messier than usual, but you’re not sure if it’s because you were writing as discreetly as possible, or if it’s because you’re nervous that something really is wrong with Mashiho.
His eyebrows furrow as he thinks of a response. “Nothing’s wrong.” He slides the paper back to you.
“Bullshit.” You don’t have time to return the paper to him before the bell rings, signalling the end of your class.
He flashes you a bright smile, but something about it seems off. Everything seems off about Mashiho lately. “Do you want to go get some food?”
You stand up. “I think I have to be home early tonight.”
His face falls slightly. “Oh, okay.” You gather your things, putting your books and the scrap of paper into your backpack silently. Your thoughts are loud, the classroom is not. You wave goodbye to Mashiho, but he isn’t paying attention. He’s staring at your chair, eyebrows furrowed and gaze more intent than it was when he was gazing out the window.
As you reach the door, he calls your name. You immediately stop walking. You turn back to him, worried about what’s happening. “I have to go home soon.” He doesn’t look at you.
“Okay, do you want me to walk you? I don’t think I’ve ever been to your house.”
He looks at you, a sad smile on his face. “I have to leave.”
“Mashiho, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong!” He stands up, exhaling heavily as he shoves his books into his bag. “I have to go home soon, and I don’t know when I’ll be back.”
You blink a few times, unsure of how to answer. “What do you mean, you don’t know when you’ll be back?”
His eyes squeeze shut for a second. “I don’t know if I’ll be coming back at all.”
“Mashiho, what the hell? Start explaining right now or I’m leaving.” You place your hand on the doorknob.
“I can’t explain, I’m sorry.” His eyes drop to the floor.
Without a word, you turn and leave the classroom.
Your thoughts are louder as you walk home. You can’t figure out why Mashiho would have to leave at all, much less why he wouldn’t tell you. If someone at home was sick, you’d want to help as much as you can. If he’s being blackmailed into leaving town, you’d want to help as much as you can. Anything that’s happening to Mashiho, you don’t want him to have to deal with alone. You want to help, but he won’t let you, and it frustrates you.
An idea pops into your head when you’re a few yards away from the school. You hide behind a tree, waiting patiently for Mashiho. You’re only waiting a minute or so, and he luckily doesn’t notice you, still staring at the ground with furrowed eyebrows. He’s mumbling something, but you can’t hear what he’s saying.
As he turns a corner, you quickly follow him, willing your feet to stay as silent as possible. You’re mildly confused when he walks towards the woods he was staring at earlier, but you figure you’re going to find out more about what’s going on. Heart thumping in your ears, you follow him into the thick foliage, the sunlight slowly fading from your view the further in you go.
You’re getting close to turning back, to giving up and letting Mashiho go when he stops in front of a ring of mushrooms. You take cover behind a tree, a small hole in the bark allowing you to look at him from the back. He looks up, closes his eyes, and sighs, one hand coming up to rub at his temple slightly. He mumbles something to himself, before taking a step.
You blink, and you miss him.
You back off from the tree. “What?” you mutter to yourself, not caring if Mashiho now knows you’ve been following him. You expect, no, you hope he’ll jump out from behind a tree, ask you what you think you’re doing, but you know he won’t. The ring of mushrooms was too far from any tree for him to have gotten behind it in the time it took for you to blink. “What?” you repeat to yourself.
You take a step towards where you last saw him. You see, faintly, the print of his shoe in the soft dirt next to the ring, and leading from the path he took within the forest, and then there’s nothing. There’s no footprint, other than yours, anywhere else around the ring. You place yourself where Mashiho was, looking up, closing your eyes, repeating everything you saw him do, before taking a step.
You blink, and you’re somewhere else entirely.
Your eyes widen. It’s like you were transported to someone’s living room. The wood floor beneath your feet is light, and the swirls in the material seem too manufactured. The air is warm, just slightly stuffy, and you hear the crackling of a fireplace behind you, but you don’t see one, even as you turn to look for it. Couches with deep red fabric are spread across the room, the arms and legs of them matching the wood, both in color and in the unnatural pattern. Lights seem to float above you, glowing brightly but not hurting your eyes when you look at them. You can smell food, and your stomach starts to grumble; you’re not sure what you’re smelling but you want some, now.
You realize you hear people talking. You can also see them, as you look around, but none of them seem to notice you. They’re taller than you, almost uncomfortably tall, and their hair all shines perfectly in the light. Somehow, no matter where they are, it’s caught perfectly. You’re focused so intently on them that you barely notice Mashiho’s voice yelling, not close, but not too far away.
Your footstep gives you away.
The floor doesn’t creak, but the sounds of the fireplace, of people talking, and of Mashiho yelling are all broken by your foot hitting the ground. More eyes than you can count are instantly on you. You feel yourself flushing, eyes widening and looking at the ground. A figure quickly appears before you, and you find yourself slowly looking up to meet their eyes.
His hair is white, his lips are shaped like a heart and the ends curl up unnaturally. His eyes are wide, larger than any you’ve ever seen before, and when he smiles, he shows too many teeth, too many molars. His posture is so straight it makes your back hurt just looking at him, and even as he cocks his head to study you, the glasses perched gently on his nose don’t move a millimeter. You try to make eye contact with him, but as you look at his irises, your eyes hurt much more than when you studied the light from before.
“Hello,” he says, his deep voice echoing through your eardrums, “who are you?” As he asks you the question, the conversations around you slowly start up again.
You open your mouth to tell him your name, to explain that you’re looking for Mashiho, to ask where you are, but before you have a chance to speak, you’re on the floor. Your arm hurts from being shoved to the ground, but even as you push yourself off the wood, you notice that your fingers sink slightly into the unusually soft material.
“No.” From above you, you can hear Mashiho’s voice, much more serious than it usually is. His eyes are fuming, and as he glares at the white-haired man, you almost feel like you need to look away. The man rolls his eyes, laughing forcefully, and walks away. His head doesn’t bob as he walks away, staying perfectly still until he’s out of your sight.
Mashiho’s eyes are much kinder as he looks at you, holding out a hand. “Are you okay? I’m sorry if I hurt you.” His voice is softer than you’ve ever heard it. You take his hand and he helps you up.
“Mashiho, what the hell is happening?” Your voice comes out louder than you planned for it to, and the room falls silent once again.
Before he’s able to reply, a voice comes from behind him. “You gave her your real name?” You furrow your eyebrows in confusion.
Why wouldn’t he…?
“I trust her.” Mashiho’s voice is firm again. “None of you will know her name.” His grip on your hand tightens. “I’m taking her home.”
You stay silent, almost scared of this side of Mashiho that you’ve never seen before. He rubs his thumb over yours, still glaring at the people surrounding the two of you, before he starts walking away, pulling you with him. You still don’t say anything, and you don’t resist him.
Once the two of you are out of the room, Mashiho’s shoulders drop. “Please don’t say your name,” he requests before he says anything else. “I’ll explain when we’re back in your realm.” You opt not to say anything, instead nodding. He leads you to another room, opening a door that matches the floors, and pauses before he enters.
Outside, lakes shimmer like they have stars in them. Trees grow as tall as the sky, and the moon shines as brightly as the sun. Purple flowers grow in straight lines, a worn path between two rows of them. The air outside is still, and no sounds can be heard.
Mashiho enters the door, and this time, even though you don’t blink, he’s gone. You follow him.
You’re instantly back in the woods where you last were. Mashiho is looking at where you just emerged from, nervously scratching at the back of his hand. Before you have a chance to speak, he breaks into tears.
“[Y/N], oh my God, that was so dangerous! Why would you do that?” Without thinking, you engulf Mashiho in a hug, rubbing his back comfortably as sobs rack his body.
“W-what do you mean?”
“You stepped into a fairy ring! You almost told a fae your name! I could hear your stomach from the next room, were you going to eat our food?” You step back from Mashiho. He looks at you, tears slowing as he wipes his eyes.
“You need to tell me what’s going on.” He nods, sniffling slightly.
“I will, just...we can’t talk here.” You don’t question him, allowing him to take your hand and lead you out of the forest.
The sun has barely moved since the two of you entered the woods. The two of you quickly end up at a small diner, sitting in a secluded booth, even though nobody besides the staff is in the building. “What the hell is going on?”
“I’m a fae.”
You want to roll your eyes, to request to see his wings, to have him cast a spell, but something stops you from doing so. The past week has been the only time you’ve seen him serious, but you haven’t seen him this solemn, even in that time.
“Explain. Everything.”
And he does.
You find out that Mashiho isn’t from your realm, as he puts it, that he travelled to Earth when he was a child and was forced to stay for several years. In that time, he met you, and he quickly grew close to you. It made him feel strange, having been told about how humans acted, how they thought and who they were as beings, but you weren’t like that. And the longer he stayed on Earth, the more humans he found who weren’t like that.
So he wanted to stay.
But a month ago, he was told to come home. “There are two courts of fae. The Seelie, which I’m a part of, and the Unseelie. Basically, the Seelie tend to be kinder to humans. A few thousand years ago, before I was born, my court took all forms of teleportation from the Unseelie when we had more power. We’ve been losing that power ever since then, our numbers dwindling. More and more of us are going to Earth, spending time around humans, and less and less of us are coming home.” He sighs, looking down at the table. “I’m still considered a child in the fae realm. I still have to listen to my parents, and I’ve been here for too long, anyway. There are certain things that fae are supposed to be able to do, like change my appearance at will, but it’s been harder and harder for me lately.” He pauses, squeezing his eyes shut and digging his fingernails into his palms. His hair changes color slightly, the light reflecting off of it making it turn slightly blue, but it fades quickly as he exhales forcefully. He looks paler as he opens his eyes.
You don’t say anything. He doesn’t say anything, either, looking at you with sad eyes.
You clear your throat. “When...when do you have to go?”
“I should be gone already. My court is really angry that I’ve come back here at all. I’ll most likely be thrown in jail once I return.”
“Why don’t you stay?” The words escape your mouth before you even know you’re speaking.
His voice is soft. “I’ll die.” He smiles sadly again. “I really wish I could stay. I’m sorry, [Y/N].”
“Can I go with you?” You’re hopeful, even though you know the answer already.
“It’d be dangerous at all times, and if you ever ate a single piece of fae food, you could never eat human food again.” He purses his lips. “I’m sorry, I can’t let you come.”
Tears start to well up in your eyes. “Mashiho, you can’t just leave! Goddamnit, we haven’t even graduated!”
“I can’t stay, either.” He sighs, reaching out to clasp your hands. “I don’t have a choice either way, do I?” He doesn’t look at you.
“I…” You trail off. “Is there any way I can ever see you again?”
Mashiho lets go of one of your hands, digging into his pocket and producing a small bronze key. “This unlocks the forest.” He hands it to you. “The parts that the humans can’t see unless led there by a fae. I trust you, [Y/N], I trust you enough to not go back into the realm without me by your side. But if you unlock the forest, whoever gave you the key will know. If you miss me, turn that into a knob in a tree. I’ll meet you there. No matter when, no matter what time, I will be there.”
Tears are falling freely from your eyes. “Mashiho...I really don’t want you to go.”
He looks down at the table again. “I don’t want to go.” He looks back at you, and you finally notice his eyes; how wide they are, how long his mouth is, how...inhuman he is. “But I really can’t stay.”
You don’t remember Mashiho leaving. You don’t remember leaving the diner. You don’t remember going home. All you remember is waking up in your bed in the pitch black, with a small key still clasped in your hand.
