Fear the World in a Ladybug | DESCENT Issue #4

Ally Guo

On a perfectly unassuming autumn day in Crane’s Lot, Toua flipped open a book in a cramped store sandwiched between two more flattering buildings.

His gloved fingers brushed gently over the yellowing pages, eyes darting to and fro as he skimmed the words. A new shipment had arrived the night before, and apparently, he was the best at appraising goods, the best at sifting through the fragile years imbued in old things.

He gingerly deposited the first volume off to the side and picked up a second. The white leather cover was blank, mild grime staining the edge. He thumbed through its contents, uncovering dainty illustrations on each page. Insects—beautifully rendered but nothing that particularly excited him.

Flip a page. Then another. And another. And—

The mechanical pattern of his hands stopped. His blank expression remained the same, save for the widening of his vast eyes.

There was a ladybug printed on the page, the red and black of its shell vivid even after all these years. As the breath rattled in his chest, coming out in faster and faster bursts, Toua berated himself for his carelessness. Of course there was a ladybug in a book about insects. How could he have overlooked that? His finger twitched where it clutched the corner of the book far too tightly.

It would be so easy. Just light a fire in his palm and burn through the weak paper. Almost unconsciously, his hand reached toward the top of the spine.

“Toua?” The door to the back room opened and Boonie poked his head out, long hair fluttering from the movement. “I finished checking up on storage. Do you need any help? The shipment looked pretty big.”

Toua slowly turned to meet his friend’s gaze, eyes still trembling more than he felt comfortable with. But Boonie didn’t seem to notice, smiling at him brightly with autumn-chilled cheeks.

Friend. That wasn’t the whole story any more. It was true, but it wasn’t the only truth. Toua didn’t need annoying twerps like Kia teasing him about the “gross love of his life” to admit that to himself. Still, there was something about the word friend that soothed him, that perhaps he valued over any other title.

Boonie bounded over, a child-like skip that looked the slightest bit odd with his tall frame. He leaned over Toua’s shoulder to peer at the book, immediately latching onto the fiery ladybug. “Oh, wow, that’s beautiful. It looks like it could crawl off the page at any moment.” He laughed to himself. “I almost wish it would come to life.”

Toua hummed in acknowledgment. “There are definitely books that can do that. But I’ve never liked ladybugs much myself.”

“Really? Why?”

He shrugged. “Just a feeling I’ve had for a long time.”

Toua snapped the book shut, hesitating before setting it aside. Perhaps he shouldn’t burn it after all. He’d have to pay for the damaged gloves if he did.

They walked back to their apartment together after work, night having fallen long ago. As Boonie carried their groceries inside, Toua paused by the front window, heart stuttering as he caught sight of a red origami bird—scrawled over in familiar handwriting—resting on the windowsill. He reached out slowly, turning it over in his hands. That’s right. He never ended up responding to his parents’ last letter, did he? Not for the first time, molten guilt crashed through his veins, searing him from the inside out.

The same panic he’d felt when he saw the ladybug began to bub ble. Shaking, he hurried around to the back of the apartment building, alone except for the handful of sleeping cars and the thin line of ever-watching trees. With unusually unsteady fingers, he unfolded the paper. His breath came out long and heavy as he squinted at the sheet.

He let out a sigh when he finished, urgently stuffing the letter inside the pocket of his coat.

When they were children, Yuwono hated being outside, complaining incessantly whenever Zunaira dragged them out to go hiking or swimming. Still, he’d been obsessed with the night sky, in love with the way the glow of the moon and stars reflected off his face. Toua had always felt that Yuwono fell in love too easily, even if it was with something as equally loving and ubiquitous as the midnight heavens. But even after so many years, Toua couldn’t help the way his gaze drew toward the moon.

In a way, it was the last thing he shared with them. The last thing he had in common with the people he thought he’d be around forever. Whom he hoped he would always know, and who would always know him. Friends who’d promised to stay with him eternally.

Was Zunaira still drifting off to sleep outdoors, too old and too far for her parents to drag her back inside? Was Yuwono still laughing late into the night, starlight freckles highlighting his irradiant smile? Was Hli still marveling at fireflies under the sky, or was that something she’d forgotten how to do?

Toua didn’t know.

Boonie perked up from where he’d sprawled across the couch when Toua entered. “There you are! Where did you go?”

Toua smiled weakly at him. “My parents wrote me a letter. I figured I’d read it right away.”

“Your parents?” Boonie looked startled, but he quickly hid it with a smile. “What did they say?”

“The usual.” Toua grimaced; Boonie wouldn’t know what “the usual” was. “They want me to go back to visit since it’s been… a while.”

Boonie didn’t comment on that, though Toua could tell from the way he puffed out his cheeks that he wanted to. Instead, Toua could see him deliberate, picking his words carefully. “I know family can be difficult, but I never got the feeling that you didn’t get along with them. Is there a reason why you’ve never visited?”

“It’s not them”—well, not entirely them—“There’s just a lot of people in general that I’m… that I’m not ready to meet again.”

Concern furrowed along Boonie’s brows. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“No, it’s all right.” Toua’s gaze wandered toward the storage closet. He could almost see the outline of a cardboard box through the door, buried behind years of noise and distraction. “I shouldn’t avoid it forever.”

“Still, don’t feel like you need to talk about it if you don’t want to.” Boonie walked over and took his hand, beaming at him kindly. “I’m a little sad I won’t get to see your embarrassing baby photos, though. My mother’s already shown you all of mine. I bet you were one of those insufferable brats who was good at everything in school.”

Toua rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop the smile from crawling onto his face. “Maybe I was, but it doesn’t matter. Hli was always smarter than me, anyway.”

“Ah, Hli! I’d really like to meet her someday. Anyone who annoys you sounds awesome.” A mischievous sparkle glimmered in Boonie’s eyes. “I bet you always tried to hide how mad you were whenever she did better than you.”

Toua felt a sting of pain as he bit the inside of his mouth. “I was… always more upset with her than I should’ve been,” he finally said.

It’d happened so many times, but Toua didn’t think he’d ever get used to waking up to the sound of screaming.

Almost by instinct, he shot up and threw himself sideways, wrapping his arms around Boonie’s shaking frame. “It’s all right. It’s all right. It’s not here. It’s not your fault. It’s all right.”

Boonie returned the embrace with trembling arms, his entire body wracked with hiccuping sobs. “It must be so awful…”

“Shh… Don’t think about it. You’re safe. You’re good. I’m here with you.”

As always, Boonie didn’t seem to hear him as a strangled whisper left his lips. “It must be so awful to die before you’re ready to go.” Another sob. “So, so awful.”

Toua resisted the urge to throw the pen at the wall. His body was filled with an unusual tension as he stared at the blank page in front of him. How many times had he tried to write a response now? He usually wasn’t this useless; all his life, he’d been known as the one who could get things done more efficiently and correctly than anybody else, even when it was unpleasant. He glared at the letter his parents had sent him, taunting him from where it sat on the bookshelf, before frowning at the pile of crumpled drafts rotting in the waste bin.

Normally, Toua spent his days off running errands and finishing off miscellaneous work, letting Boonie drag him out to town every once in a while. But although he’d planned a full schedule today, he hadn’t even finished the first task.

He leaned back in his chair with a sigh, draping a cold hand over his forehead. “I’m going to suffocate.”

With effort, he dragged himself out of the office, pulling his coat over his shoulders. He’d take a short walk to clear his mind. Just an aimless walk with no destination. As unnaturally as it came to him, Toua had always liked wandering around town with no plan in mind. When there was no destination, there were no thoughts, no words, and no worries. He could just exist and let the woes of the past, present, and future leave him behind.

Almost as if his body knew he was aching for company, Toua found himself approaching the ice cream parlor on the east side of town. Peering through the large windows of the Ice Crane storefront, he saw the familiar lanky figure of Kiarash leaning over the counter and chatting with Irene. They were the only two people inside. It was common enough to see Kia at his part-time job, decked out in his dorky bluestriped uniform, but Irene was usually helping at their father’s forge this time of day. Still, it’d been a while since Toua had spoken to either of them, and before he knew it, he found himself pushing open the door.

Kia’s head whipped up, ecstatic smile never once wavering. “Hey, welcome to—Toua!”

Irene waved their hand high. “Toua.”

He tried, and failed, to match their joy with his own wave, even if he felt a pleasant warmth spreading throughout his chest. “Hello.”

“You came just in time,” Kia chirped. “I was just telling Irene about what Leyla wanted me to do. It’s pretty dumb.”

“It is dumb,” Irene agreed.

“Really? What did she say?” Unlike her two younger siblings, Kia’s older sister didn’t strike him as someone who did “dumb” things very often. But if Irene agreed, then…

“Bahareh started dating someone for the first time, and I know the kid, so it’s fine. But Leyla—she’s mad.” Kia grinned widely. “Did the whole thing where she tried to threaten them.”

Toua resisted the urge to snort. Kia snickered at his smothered expression.

“Right? She’s so short and unintimidating. Even when she’s mad she just looks like an an gry duckling,” he crowed. “But guess what? She asked me—me!—to go scare the poor kid next. Problem is, I’m also—”

“—unintimidating.” Toua and Irene shared an exasperated smile.

“Exactly! Just because I’m tall doesn’t mean I’m scary.”

Toua hummed in agreement. “You’re literally the most ridiculous person I know.” He huffed out a laugh when Kia pouted. “Kidding, kidding.”

Kia rolled his eyes, but he didn’t seem annoyed. “Anyway, the point is, there’s no way I’m embarrassing myself like that, even for Leyla.” He turned to Toua. “But enough of my dumb sister. How’s your sister doing?”

Toua felt his body stiffen and hoped it didn’t show on his face. He’d never intended to tell anyone about his sister, but it’d slipped out one day, like a bird breaking free from the churning in his heart.

“She’s the same as always.” He dipped his head glumly. “We don’t talk as much as we should, though.”

And I’m avoiding my entire family. He’d tell them someday; he wanted to. But Kia and Irene didn’t need to know today.

Kia looked equally sad. “Ah, I’m sorry to hear that. But yeah, I get it. It’s hard to coordinate things when you live so far away.”

Toua shrugged half-heartedly. “I’ve been thinking of visiting my hometown, but I don’t know. It never feels like the right time, but the longer I wait, the wronger it feels.”

Irene eyed him worriedly. “You don’t have to go back if you don’t want to.” They paused, seemingly in deep thought. “Although, autumn is a good time to reconnect. I’m not sure why, but the past and present, life and death, feel extra intertwined this time of year. Everything seems to change faster, and everywhere I go, the tugging is stronger.”

A deep dread settled in Toua’s stomach. “Oh… Boonie’s visions have been get ting worse recently. Do you think the season could have something to do with it?”

Irene chewed their bottom lip. “Honestly, I don’t know how either of our abilities works. But death does get restless in the autumn… So maybe.”

Compared to Kia, Toua hadn’t known Irene for very long. But he’d heard stories about Irene’s childhood, how there’d always been some invisible force calling out to them. Places where people had died. Places where people were going to die. Where death clustered; never quite materializing but never fading either. Somehow, they always found themselves wandering to those places. As they’d grown older, Irene had gotten better at resisting the subconscious pull. But still, it was always there. Always tugging.

“Oh!” They both turned to look at Kia, whose mouth had parted in surprise. He frowned down at the counter before looking up, a serious edge to his usually jovial features. Toua barely had time to realize how uncharacteristically quiet Kia had been before the younger boy spoke again.

“My dad travels a lot, right?” They nodded. “Leyla and I used to meet him outside the house whenever he returned, and he always looked so scared walking up the path. I asked him about it once, and he told me he was afraid he’d come home one day and find us all ‘dead.’”

Toua pressed his lips together. It was a horrifying thought, sure, but— “But he didn’t mean literally dead. It was more like, what if we’d changed so much that he couldn’t recognize us anymore? Like the versions of us he’d known and loved had died.” He took a deep breath. “Anyway, maybe that’s why past and present feel weird, Irene. Literal death is restless, so the metaphorical dead in your life are coming back to haunt you, too.”

“That’s… upsetting,” Irene said after a pause. “But it does make sense.” If either of them said anything after that, Toua didn’t hear. His mind was a crashing blur of cracked images and disjointed words. Leaving town and lying to his parents about why. Exchanging letters with Zunaira and feeling like he was writing to a stranger. Sending a single awkward message to Yuwono and never getting a response. Being mad at Hli and failing to say goodbye before she left.

imlivingatstudyingalchemyifyoueverwanttocatchupithinkiminlovethedragonshatched todayhidoyourememberlookatthemooniwontalwaysbeheretohelpyouyoushouldbehappyfor heryouretooemotionalarentthesecaterpillarscutewhenigrowupifoundanewtrailimnotupset letshaveapartydontilookprettyyourenotemotionalenoughstoptryingtomakemewellbe friendsforever—

Kia and Irene were right; it did make sense. But if that was true, then that meant…

Then that meant everyone was dead.

Boonie dreamt of people the night before they died. Sometimes, Toua thought that would be a useful skill to have. He never said that aloud, though, because then Boonie would be upset.

Boonie called it stress-baking but acknowledging he was stressed always made Toua more anxious. Nevertheless, after a particularly bad morning, Toua found himself with a large blackberry pie steaming in front of him.

He’d distracted himself for a while, but now that the pie was finished, the walls of the apartment seemed to close in again, cold fingers squeezing him in a fist. That seemed to be happening a lot recently.

He cut a piece of the pie, storing it in the fridge for Boonie, before packing up the rest of it. Idrissa would certainly enjoy it, and Nine might sulkily grab a slice as well.

The air outside had become even crisper as the season marched on, sinking its tiny claws into his face as he strode down the road. His “mentors”—as Idrissa proudly proclaimed—lived at the edge of town, not quite in the clutches of the wilderness, but shadowy enough to deter unwelcome guests. Toua still had no idea how he’d become one of the welcome.

“Toua!” As expected, Idrissa greeted him with a smile, cheeks pulled wide and dark eyes sparkling. “Come in, come in! You younglings are always so weak to the cold.”

Toua smiled back. He gave a tired wave to the black cat glowering in the corner. “Hi, Nine.” She bared her teeth in response.

“I brought you some pie,” he told Idrissa as they entered the kitchen. “Blackberry.”

“Aww, my favorite! You shouldn’t have.” Idrissa took the container from him with delight. “I’m glad you came to visit, though. It’s been too long.”

“Yeah, thanks for the pie.” A smug voice that didn’t sound very thankful drawled from be hind them.

Toua turned to see a woman with long black hair leaning against the doorway, bony arms crossed and lips curled into a teasing sneer. “Nice of you to visit the old ladies. But you want something from us, don’t you?”

He frowned at Nine. “Not really? I just needed to get out of the house.”

“Maybe you don’t realize it, but you showed up unannounced, which means you’re not in your usual mind.” Nine flipped her hair over her shoulder as she stalked into the kitchen. She strode up close, peering intently into his face. “C’mon,” she cooed, half-mocking, half-sincere. “You can tell us what’s going on.”

“Nine!” Idrissa chided. “Give him some space.”

Toua felt the resistance within him crumble, beaten and broken over and over in the days since his parents’ letter had arrived. Crackling chips of paint

“My family, they want me to visit…

But it’s been so long since I’ve talked to any of them—even my friends. It’s my fault, but…”

Nine let out a laugh. “Is that all? Don’t let pointless things in the past drag you down. I never let that nasty family of mine affect me.”

“Darling, you’re being obnoxiously unhelpful right now.” Idrissa shot her a short glare. “But she’s right, Toua. You don’t have to go back if you don’t want to.” “No!” Even he was surprised by how sharp his response was. A calming breath, then, “I want to go back. No, I need to—for my own sanity. I just need to… need to shut the door once and for all.” He shifted his hands slowly, knuckles cracking. “I’ve been trying to forget everything for years”—everyone I’ve hurt, everyone who’s hurt me—“but it hasn’t worked. I need to try something else. But still, I just… can’t.”

Concern dripped out of Idrissa’s eyes. “If I may ask, why do you want to forget? You don’t talk about them often, but you always look happy when you do. Your father taught you to bake, didn’t he? And that Hli liked to photograph butterflies, right? If you love them so much, I’m sure they love you back.”

Kia’s words flashed through his mind, a miserable fear settling over his thoughts. “I-I just don’t know if they’ll like who I’ve become. Or if I’ll like who they’ve become. I don’t want them to hate me, and I don’t want to be disappointed in them.”

“I can’t say that won’t happen,” Idrissa said slowly, “but you won’t know unless you try. If you really want to go, I think you should.”

Nine hummed in agreement. “That’s right. Wouldn’t want to be unhappy for the rest of your life, would you?”

Toua’s stomach churned. That was true. Some days it wasn’t so bad, but there hadn’t been a single moment since he’d first arrived in Crane’s Lot—no, since he first stepped out the door of his childhood home—that there hadn’t been an inherent weariness to his entire being.

Nine continued in a sing-song manner, ignoring his turmoil. “And if you’re really that scared, just bring that Boonie of yours along. He’s charming enough for the both of you.”

Despite the despair carved into his bones, Toua couldn’t help but crack a smile. “That, he is.” He studied his hands, spotting a purple stain from the blackberries on his sleeve. “He really is.”

“Toua!”

Toua resisted the urge to flinch, stiffening his back and continuing his walk back home from school.

“Toua!” Hli’s running footsteps quickly caught up with him. “Don’t tell me you’re going home already?”

“Where else would I go?” he said, draining his words of any emotion.

Hli huffed, face flushed. “There’s not that much work today. You should come play with us.”

“I’m not like you.” He barely succeeded in keeping his voice neutral. “I don’t like playing with everyone. One person is okay. Any more is too much.”

Hli sighed, suddenly more sympathetic. “I can’t be your only friend, Toua. That’s not good for you.” She glanced into the distance, where the silhouettes of several other schoolchildren danced in the sun. “How about this?

If you come to the park with me today, I won’t bother you about this again?”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Toua glanced at the sun, still high in the sky. It would be a while before any parents called their kids home. He sighed. “Okay.”

It was going to be a long afternoon. But it would be worth it when it was over for good.

“Toua?”

Toua looked up as Boonie peered out of the bedroom doorway, rubbing sleep-heavy eyes under the warm dark hue of the orange lamp.

“What are you doing up so late?” Boonie asked, holding back a yawn. He blinked a couple of times, confusion forming on his face as he saw the ransacked closet in front of him. “Are you looking for something?”

Toua sighed, staring down at the battered box in front of him. His hands hovered momentarily above it before finally resting on top. He’d been preparing himself for this conversation for days, but now that the moment had finally arrived, the familiar reluctance swelled again. “There are some things I need to take home.”

“Take home? Does that mean…” Boonie hurried over and crouched down next to him, resting a gentle hand on top of his.

On top of his box. On top of his past. On top of his regrets. “Are you sure?” he asked softly, peering at him through drooping lashes. “It’s okay if you’re not ready. It’s okay if you’re never ready.”

Slowly, Toua lifted his other hand and placed it on top of Boonie’s, though he didn’t meet his eyes. “No, but I can’t stand it anymore. I need to get rid of this, but I can’t throw it out. I have to take it back vto where it belongs— because it doesn’t belong here.”

Toua was certain Boonie knew he meant more than the box.

Like a fly finally freed from a spider’s web, the next words fell writhing out of his mouth. “I don’t know why I brought this. I didn’t want to bring anything when I left. I know it doesn’t belong here—doesn’t belong with me—but it follows me everywhere. I can’t get rid of it. Is it just going to follow me forever? Am I going to take it home, only to find I can’t leave it behind again? What am I supposed to do? I can’t stand it—”

Warm arms clung around him, holding his shaking frame in a tight embrace. Slowly, Toua returned the hug with trembling arms, leaning his head against Boonie’s shoulder. “I just want to forget.”

“I know… I know… But it’ll be okay. You’re safe. You’re good. I’m here with you.” Boonie leaned back slightly, bringing a hand up to his cheek. “I’ll always be here with you.”

For a few moments, Toua let himself breathe, closing his eyes and sucking in heavy gulps of air. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely more than a wet whisper. “You’ll come with me, won’t you? I don’t want to go alone.”

“Of course.” Boonie smiled through watery eyes. “I’ll go with you anywhere. Everywhere. I won’t ever leave you on your own.”

Toua felt his entire body relax. His voice wouldn’t work, but he prayed that Boonie knew he’d do the same for him. From the corner of his eye, he saw the moon and stars glistening in a heavenly ocean of black—and for the first time in a long time, the sight of them brought him peace instead of grief. It was a feeling that he wanted to last forever.

And as he closed his eyes and leaned back into the embrace, Toua was hopeful that this time, the promise of someone he loved would stay as eternal as the night sky.