Sweet (Concerning) Silence

1

The silence in the Circus Gallery was all-encompassing. You used to despise it, but over time, you came to enjoy letting it—alongside the almost absolute darkness—swallow you whole and send you into a void of nothing. It was far preferable to allowing yourself to fully exist in reality, which was a cold, isolating, underground hellhole.

Although it was difficult to keep track, you liked counting the days. Around six hundred or so ago, your blanket of nothingness got ripped away from you.

You had only ever gotten a look at her once. It was on the very same morning that she had arrived. She was a pretty dancer with blue hair and a tutu.

Every night, once every worker sans the night technician had cleared out, you could hear her.

The tinkling of a music box.

Occasionally, a silvery voice singing a well-nigh depressing tune.

Every night.

Every single night.

You would be more of a filthy liar than you already were if you said that it hadn't started to irk you after a short while.

The sound echoed around your mostly empty Gallery. Although slightly muted by distance and walls, it was still loud enough to worm its way into the furthest corners of your head. It was an almost permanent resident.

It snuffed out your silence.

It eclipsed most of your quieter thoughts.

It was all around you.

You wanted it to stop.

On occasion, you told her as much. You half-expected your sotto voce remarks to go unheard, but they never did. Ballora always responded with something resembling amusement lacing her words. Like she didn't believe you were being serious. Or like she did but managed to somehow find your dourness funny. Even though you had only ever seen her face once, you could easily picture the obnoxious grin on her pink-painted lips.

And you always replied back. You didn't know why. Seemed almost pointless to bother. It only helped lengthen your exchanges with her.

Maybe after a while, you stopped seeing that as a bad thing.

Stupid pretty voice. Stupid music box.

One night, you didn't hear either of them.

The silence was deafening. You really didn't like it.

There was a strong doubt in your mind that Ballora had finally decided to give in.

As the hours dragged on and there was still no sign that the dancer was around or okay, you found yourself wishing that you could leave your prison cell and check hers.

The day after came and went by slower than you thought possible.

When the facility closed for the night, you found yourself sitting with your back against the wall you knew was closest to Ballora's Gallery. There was still no noise. Only horrible, awful nothingness.

"Ballora?" you questioned, desperately wishing that she would and wouldn't hear you all at once.

No response. She either didn't hear you or wasn't there.

"...Circus Baby?"

Nevermind. That unsure voice was definitely hers. You let out of sigh of partial relief and then found yourself uncertain of how to respond to her.

"Are my ears deceiving me, or are you attempting to initiate conversation? Last I checked, I haven't done anything to make you all grumpy yet."

"I just wanted to check on you. You've never gone so long without making your presence known before."

"Oh, did you miss me?" Ballora asked, her tone somewhere between teasing and surprised. "Were you worried?"

"It was too quiet without you," you admitted. "Worried, though? I don't know about that."

There was a laugh. One you had heard many times before in response to things you said to her. "I'm going to assume that reply actually means yes. I'm fine. I just needed... maintenance."

It was clear from the way she uttered the word "maintenance" that it wasn't simply that. Not just the replacement of a part showing signs of degraded performance. Not just the tightening of loose screws.

Ballora had gone to the Scooping Room.

You felt awful for her. You knew what that experience was like, and you didn't press further. So instead, you let her change the direction of the conversation.

"I've never been able to stand it. Why did you like it so much, anyway?" she had asked at one point. "The silence, I mean. Why did you stop liking it?"

"It helped suck me into a void beyond this place. There used to be no ups here, so it was nice to pretend I wasn't in it."

"What changed?" was the next question out of her mouth.

"What?"

"What makes this place a bit better now?"

The red blush painted on your cheeks had never before felt like it had a better reason to be there. "...You know what the answer is."

"I do, but I want to hear you say it. Please?"

You got all grumbly but confessed anyway. "You do."