The Present is a Gift

Chapter 2: In Which Farewell are Bidden

Kip left to start his apprenticeship and set off on his expedition before Twig could work up the gumption again to even hint at her memories returning. She really was going to have to grin and bear their return on her own, and the thought weighed heavy in her belly. She only barely managed to keep up a smile for Kip in the days leading up to his departure— and the minute after Treasure Town saw him off alongside her, she started bawling.

Bidoof noticed her silent tears as Kip disappeared from view down the road and everyone began filing off to their homes. "Shucks, are you alright, Twig?"

She sniveled and blubbered her answer. "I'm fine. I'm just going to miss him. Kip is the first friend I remember making. I just..."

"It must be awful rough, huh? I'm sure it's hard on you, yes sirree. But... with Team Venture dissolved, maybe you could go on an adventure of your own while Kip's off on his! I'm sure you got a family worried sick about you around here somewhere." He smiled warmly, all buck teeth and sunshine. "Bet your ma's a right scary Charizard! That's the kinda family you strike me as coming from."

It occurred to Twig that she'd never told anyone from Treasure Town that she was once human. She wiped her eyes, then shed even more tears than she could hope to sweep away when her hands were already covered in her grief, and nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, that's a good idea. It'd be nice to know more about my past."

Bidoof sat up on his haunches and patted her back. "I think it'd do you a lot of good, yup yup! But get some rest for now. You need it after today."

He fell back onto his paws and waddled off after the rest of the townsfolk, humming cheerfully to himself as he went.

Yeah, Twig bleakly thought, recalling the numerous ways she'd been tripped up by her returned memories, Some good it's done me knowing anything at all about where I come from. It's not like I'd give anything to be a real amnesiac and have them stay gone.

The worst part of her bitter inward remarks is that they weren't even true. She desperately wanted to know who she was and how she'd come to be who she is. But the fact that it came with those memories instead of happier ones first... she doubted whether she could handle the return of any more. It just might shatter her.

***

It hurt a lot to learn respect. That was the only thing she could say. She felt like her insides were all done up in knots and stuck with pins whenever she had to go home to her aunt, so she spent most of her time avoiding passing through the door. She would beg to visit friends' houses, she would volunteer to clean up after school, she would take the long walk back— she did everything she could to put off her return to the place she'd learned was a painful schoolhouse and not a home.

That was funny to think about. Especially when the unit used to belong to her parents.

Oh, that was sad to think about. Why did it surprise her to remember she had parents at one point? Sometimes it seemed like it had always been just her and Auntie. Her family had passed just a year or two ago, but here she was, remembering that she had forgotten the sound of their voices.

How had they died, again?

She felt the memory of rattling gasps and the sound of bile splashing against porcelain tickle at the back of her skull. Her stomach twisted at that slightest hint of what happened. She would have liked to pursue the memory and grasp its slippery recollection with shaky hands, but she had just arrived home. She needed to be quiet and pleasant. She needed to hide and be silent. She hadn't done anything disrespectful yet, but she didn't want to try her luck and garner another lesson on how to behave for her aunt.