Fly High, Butterfly

Chapter Six

Bruno doesn't remember exactly when they arrived.

Perhaps it was when he was a child, and he threw a cloth over his head and told his sisters the adventures that he—no, the brave Hernando—went on, and the monsters he slayed.

Perhaps it was when he was a teenager, and the villagers began to whisper about curses, so he pulled up the hood of his ruana and pretended he was the Hernando from his childhood tales.

Perhaps it was when he was a young adult, and even his mamá began to look at him funny sometimes, so he hid under the bed and imagined he was a boy named Jorge, who didn't have powers and had a loving mother.

Perhaps it was when he left to live in the walls, and he just didn't want to be Bruno anymore, so why not be Hernando, why not be Jorge? No one was around to care.

And if Hernando and Jorge became more than just characters, began to comfort him when he got stuck in a ritual or encourage him to sneak out for food, well. He was already a crazy man living in the walls, why not lean into the role?

---

He joked with Mirabel about them, before Casita fell. A passing remark that maybe wasn't completely untrue. She had said nothing, too focused on saving the miracle to wonder about the people in Tío Bruno's brain.

They went quiet as Casita was rebuilt, surfacing only on lonely nights when no one else was awake—or when Bruno was asked to help make spackle, because Jorge loved the texture. If anyone had noticed his occasional mumbling, well, he'd always done that.

It wasn't until the magic returned and Bruno became settled back into the family that things got a little... awkward.

---

Bruno is helping Julieta in the kitchen one afternoon, chopping up vegetables with her as they prepare soup for tonight's dinner. She's watching him out of the corner of her eye. After he showed her the scars he'd given himself in the walls, an unspoken rule was created between them that he wasn't allowed to use knives without supervision.

It was a little ridiculous, because he'd only ever—no, used to do that when he was alone, but he's glad she cares.

However, no amount of care can stop him from accidentally swiping the knife over one of his fingers, causing a rush of blood to pour out.

"Ay, mierda," he curses, and Hernando metaphorically looks over his shoulder to watch.

Looks rough, hermano, better hope there's an arepa left over from yesterday, he says.

"Oh, Bruno!" Julieta gasps, and tosses a towel at him before stepping away to look for leftovers. Bruno doesn't move.

Hernando hums, and asks, Want me to take over?

"Y-Yes please," Bruno whispers, and with a blink, he feels himself retreat backwards into his own mind.

Hernando grabs the towel and wraps it tight around his finger, just as Julieta comes rushing back, practically shoving an arepa into his mouth.

"Luckily not many people needed me yesterday," she says, relieved. Hernando swallows a bite and feels his skin stitch itself back together. Pulling the towel off reveals a very bloodstained towel, but a healed finger.

"Thanks, Julieta," he says, eating the rest of the arepa. "I can wash the towel."

She nods, and is about to pick up her knife again, but stops. She watches him walk to the sink with narrowed eyes.

"You sound different," she says. "And you're walking different."

Hernando blinks. Uh oh.

"Am I?" he asks, attempting to sound nonchalant.

He tries to reach out to Bruno, but that cut must have scared him good, because he's nowhere to be found. Double uh oh.

"Yeah," Julieta says slowly.

"Well..." Better get it over with now, he thinks, before getting cozy with the family. "That's because I'm not Bruno."

She stares for a moment, and even though Bruno is nowhere to be found, Hernando can feel Jorge starting to get nervous. Hernando claims to be scared of nothing, but Bruno's sisters might be an exception.

"My name's Hernando."

There's a pause.

"The Hernando who fought a dragon off with his bare hands? And found a buried treasure in Bruno's room?" Julieta asks, a ghost of a smile on her face.

"Sort of."

Her brows furrow. "What do you mean, then?"

He sets the clean towel on the counter with a sigh and leans against it, arms crossed.

"There's Bruno, right? Your hermano, with the powers and the rituals and the obsessive love of flan de coco?"

Julieta nods with a chuckle, remembering how Bruno would take at least three servings of flan for himself, even worse than Camilo.

"He's a person with a brain like everyone else. You've got a brain, you are your own person. It's just that Bruno, for whatever reason, shares a brain with other people."

She nods, playing with her hair in the way she does when she's thinking.

"I'm Hernando. A different person, with a different personality and hobbies and favorite desserts. I'm just brain roommates with your brother, and share a body with him."

"Is it because of the magic?" she asks.

Hernando shrugs. "No idea. But if I had to guess, having prophetic visions doesn't exactly tie in with sharing a brain."

Julieta hums. Then she stops, a look of sadness falling onto her face. "Was it... was he lonely, in the walls?"

"Well, anyone would be." Hernando drums his fingers on his shoulder. "I think we got here long before the walls."

She watches him. Even though her brother's body is in front of her, she can tell he's not Bruno. He's carrying himself with more confidence, more relaxation. There's a different look in his eyes.

Hernando grunts as Julieta lunges forward and hugs him hard, her face buried in his shoulder. Hesitantly, he rests his arms around her and pats her back.

"You hug me different," she says quietly.

"Is it bad?" he asks.

"No, not bad. Just... different."

"...Are you going to tell anyone?"

"Only if you want me to."

"Hm. I'll ask Bruno."

"Hey, Hernando?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for keeping him company."