Chapter one
Zefryn Ignatious Pyrnai Armydel Lynor Syhle Persephyn Xolany Clementyne Ootyk
Zef
Something was wrong. Zeffelt it like an itching under their skin. They stood in their kitchen, top hands holding the cupboard doors open as their second set of arms crossed over their chest. Deep in thought, they scrutinized the contents of the cupboard, trying to pinpoint the wrongness.
After several long seconds, they spotted it. Their mugs were out of order. Their Monday tea mug sat where their Thursday coffee mug should have been, and their soup mug was on the incorrect shelf entirely. How this had happened, they could not say, but they rushed to right the wrong.
“Wrong, wrong, wrong,” they muttered as they shifted their mugs around until they stood in their rightful places.
Objectively, Zef understood that the placement of dishware did not matter, but to them, it was important. Each glass and bowl had its spot, each plate its own special home within the cupboards. And when things were out of order, it made them feel as iftheywere out of order.
If there was one thing Zefryn Ignatious Pyrnai Armydel Lynor Syhle Persephyn Xolany Clementyne Ootyk could not abide, it was disorder. Especially on a day like today, when everything was about to change.
Now, Zef did not like change simply for change’s sake. Their old roommate, Denys, loved to swap the furniture in the living room, simply to “keep things fresh.” Zef did not understand this. They kept their home impeccably clean, so “freshness” was never an issue. And if they were speaking purely of aesthetics, Zef had designed the layout of the living room furniture with this in mind from the start. Any changes were wholly unnecessary, in their opinion.
But to keep Denys happy, Zef had allowed a furniture rearrangement twice a year. They did not like it, but they were not entirely inflexible. Change was a part of life, and even if they did not enjoy it, they did their best to adapt accordingly. Even knowing that, they had been slightly relieved when Denys moved out and order could be restored.
With the cupboard back under control, Zef breathed a sigh of relief, then retrieved their Saturday tea mug. They plucked the water kettle from the stove the moment it began to whistle and steeped their tea leaves for exactly two minutes and thirty-two seconds. Filling their mug with tea with their lower hands, they gathered their long, wispy hair into a messy bun atop their head with their upper hands. A few thin, white strands broke free to skitter across their cheeks, and they tucked them behind their pointed ears.
They added one spoonful ofhonyl, a natural sweetener harvested from the tunneled homes of Hellian pollinators, and stirred it until it dissolved. One sip, and their worries over the day melted away. There was nothing like the perfect sip of tea to calm the nerves.
Toa Sian had taught Zef this when they were a hatchling. In the community center, after Zef’s first—and rather traumatizing—molt, Toa Sian had steeped a pot oflavendylblossoms and roasted anai seeds to perfection, then served it to Zef with a cookie and a brief press of two fingers to their shoulder.
“Drink up,koa,” they had cooed. “Everything is better after a cup of tea.”
To this day, Zef found the statement to be true.
Something clunked about from the direction of their bedroom, and they turned toward it, cocking their head in confused curiosity. They were the only one home, and since Denys had moved out several weeks prior, their condo had been even quieter than normal. They had been preparing for the inevitable noise of their new roommate moving in, but Bryce was not scheduled to arrive for another hour.
Following the sounds, they cautiously opened their bedroom door and peeked inside. They found the source of the noise immediately in the shape of a squat, mottled-green body diving head-first into the drawers of their dresser. As unexpected as the Anura’s visit was, Zef was not surprised. Tad had a tendency for breaking into their home at all hours for any number of reasons, and they had grown accustomed to stumbling upon her in any manner of shocking and unforeseen circumstance.
At least this time, she was fully clothed and not covered in bodily fluids. It was their preferred way of finding her.
“Tadora,” they said, and the Anura’s bald head popped up, large yellow-green eyes narrowing on Zef as iftheywere the one to have invadedherpersonal space. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
“Oh, you’re home,” she said in her nasally voice. “Good. You can tell me where your pantyhose are.”
“Why do you need to locate my pantyhose?” they asked, taking another sip of their tea.
“I need them,” Tad said simply as she proceeded to empty Zef’s top drawer, throwing their socks and undergarments all over the floor. “Don’t worry about those; I’ll clean them up,” she promised when their wings buzzed in agitation at the mess.
For all her chaos, she kept her promises—at least, the promises she made to Zef. Commitments made to others… that was more of a gray area.
Trusting her to keep her word, they managed to move past the mess to their ensuite bathroom. Their pantyhose hung from the shower curtain rod, still slightly damp from their recent wash.
They returned to the bedroom and placed them into Tad’s webbed hands. “Why do you need them?”
“I didn’t have any, and I need to make some masks, so the cameras won’t recognize me,” she said, like it made all the sense in the world.
“Ah, of course.” Still not fully understanding, they sat down and crossed their legs, sipping their tea as Tad started hacking away at their pantyhose with a pair of scissors she must have brought with her.
“I’ll buy you new ones after I get paid for this job,” she vowed as she snip, snip, snipped away.
Since she always replaced the belongings she “borrowed” from them, Zef made no protest as their pantyhose were turned to ruin. The Anura cutthem up into several pieces, then tugged a few over her head to measure. Happy with the facial coverage, she tied off the tops with a knot.
Turning to Zef, she held up several more pieces. “Can I use your head?”
