Lavender Snow

Return

Ranboo fell asleep and found himself, as he always did, surrounded by the watching Chat.

"Hello," he said. He had learned that they liked to be greeted. It was number one on the list of rules he was making. Rule one: greet the crowd. Rule two: acknowledge the crowd now and then. Rule three: entertain the crowd.

They murmured their welcome, then one shadowy figure stepped forward. "Hello, Ranboo. Are you excited to go?"

The voices were gaining more volume and longer sentences by the day. Ranboo shrugged. "Um, kind of? I don't remember raising my hand to vote, there are gaps in my memory again, but I guess everyone else needs me to come, so I might as well be happy about it." He scratched the scars on his wrist. "I mean, you're meant to be happy in the End, anyways."

The crowd shifted, upset. Ranboo threw up his hands. "It's just the facts! It's not that bad, guys, that's just the way things work there!"

Another figure took a step forward. "Ranboo, I love you."

Ranboo hesitated. "Uhhhh. . . thank. . . you?"

The figure was grabbed and yanked back into the crowd and replaced by another. "Are you packed for the trip?"

"You literally watched me pack!" Ranboo said, remembering the crowd arguing about what he should bring and where he should place it in his backpack. They had insisted on bringing a giraffe toy for some reason.

Ranboo glanced around the crowd. He felt like someone else should be talking right now. His eyes flicked automatically to the wall, but it was just a black void like always. What had he expected? Why did he. . .

"Do you hate us?" A figure said. Chat went silent, then began whispering quietly to each other.

Ranboo turned, but the figure had already retreated into the crowd. "W—what? No, I don't— I mean, it's inconvenient, sometimes, and I get headaches when you're too loud. . . But I'm getting used to it, and you can't leave, anyways, so. . ."

"Would you like us to leave?" A voice said behind him.

Ranboo spun in a circle, looking into the sea of shadows. "You. . . can't. . . can you?

The crowd began chanting numbers. "Four million. Three million eight hundred seventy two thousand thirty. Three million eight hundred fifty. Three million—"

"You're leaving?" Ranboo grabbed his wrist. "But I don't. . . I don't understand, did I do something wrong?"

A figure stepped up to try and say something, but the voices were so loud Ranboo couldn't make out what they were trying to tell him.

The crowd chanted louder and louder, numbers falling, and then darkness swallowed him and he woke up.

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"Do you have everything?" Phil said, worried. "Hiking boots? Rope? Snacks?"

Kristin nodded, filling up her water bottle. "I think so. I mean, if we forget anything, Ranboo can just teleport us back, right?"

"Yeah, yeah," Phil said. He unzipped Kristin's backpack and started going through it. "You have a change of clothes, good, extra water, good, toilet paper, good. . ."

"I got everything!" Kristin shooed him away. "We'll be fine, Phil."

Phil sighed, taking her hands. "I know, I know, I'm just worried."

Kristin touched her forehead to his. "First sign of danger, and I'll ask Ranboo to teleport us home, okay?"

"Promise me you'll come back," Phil whispered.