In the Bushes

Waythe lets out a long, silent yawn. He’s lying on his belly, side by side with Hops, peering through the small holes in the bush parallel to the hazebloom gardens. As curious as he may be about the reason for their disappearance, it sure is boring. Even if his phone battery hadn’t died an hour ago, Hops kept giving him looks every time he pulled it out– even when he was only trying to check the time (and maybe the paranormal forums– there are all sorts of theories as to what’s happening to be found). 

He lays down, head on his forearms– surprisingly, this is a much better vantage point. Thanks to the square shape of the bushes, there is almost no foliage near the roots to block his vision. His glasses are pushed slightly askew, but he can still see well enough– not that it matters much. In this position, his eyelids start to feel heavy.

He reaches over to the plastic bag that had been full of dango when he’d arrived. Their supply had dwindled over the course of the night, but there were still a couple left. Surely, this boost of sugar would help keep him awake, right?

He feels some movement at his side. Sir Tricks had long fallen sound asleep– and he envied the imp so. It would be so easy, under this tarp– thanks to his hellfire, it was strangely cozy, and he had been lying still for so long… No! No, no, no. He’s invested. What if the reason Hops has been finding the garden in disarray is because of something supernatural? His expertise may be required.

“Hey,” Hops whispers. “Stay awake.”

“Hm, wish I’d thought of that,” Waythe replies, somewhat snappily. He takes a quick, deep breath. “I’m sorry– I’m tired. I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“It’s fine. Here– try sitting up. You’ll fall asleep for sure in that position.” She moves to start helping him up, but Waythe holds up a paw.

“Sir Tricks is asleep,” he says. “I don’t want to wake him.”

Hops laughs, and covers her mouth with her hand. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” Waythe frowns. “Why?”

“I don’t know– I guess in retrospect, I’m not all that surprised. You and your imp are very close.”

“We are. Do I not seem the type?”

“No! I mean, I wouldn’t say that. You just… no, nevermind.”

“What is it?”

“I don’t want to offend.”

“Then, I promise, you won’t.”

Hops laughs again, a little bit nervously. “Well, you just seem a bit stuffy– a little unaffectionate.”

Waythe offers a bemused smile, and finally fixes his glasses. “I suppose I can be, but certainly not towards my imp. He is a faithful companion, and is incapable of doing wrong.”

“Is that so? I heard that guysts are known for their, hm, mischievous nature.”

“Well, that much is true of Sir Tricks– I was investigating a building I believed to be haunted. It was just him.”

“And then what? Did he just follow you home?”

“Not that time.”

“Wait– were there multiple times?” Hops’ face lights up, delighted by this story.

“He lured me into multiple abandoned buildings in an attempt to catch him. I never did, but at some point, he found me outside of work, too.”

“Work? What do you do?”

Waythe blinks, and after a long pause, asks, “...Do you not know? I’m a paranormal investigator. It’s why I’m here– on the investigation, anyways.”

“For real?!” Hops clamps a hand over her mouth, realizing she was probably a bit too loud. “Sorry– I had no idea! So you think it’s ghosts?”

“That’s my main theory, yes. This doesn’t look to be the work of guysts, which is the most common reason I find myself investigating strange goingson, so what else could it be?”

“I think it could have something to do with the fey,” she answers. “I mean, doesn’t it make sense? If the hazeblooms are from the fey realm, maybe the fey king is upset we’ve been using them!”

“How would he know?”

“I dunno– fey stuff! We don’t know what they do or don’t know. Maybe they’re magically connected.”

“Then, why now? This is far from the first time hazeblooms have sprouted in Burrowgatory.”

“Who’s to say? Look, just because I can’t explain it doesn’t mean it can’t be true.”

“I suppose I can’t argue with that.”

Hops giggles. “Good.”

Sir Tricks once again stirs at Waythe’s side, roused by the whispered conversation. Waythe takes the opportunity to sit up, murmuring to his imp and gently. Sir Tricks groggily floats forward to be scooped up into his chosen bun’s arms, where he promptly falls back to sleep.

“Do you want to make a bet?” Hops asks, once Waythe is situated.

“At a casino?” He chuckles. “How scandalous. What on?”

“If you’re right, and the problems are being caused by ghosts, I’ll make you a special hazebloom cocktail.”

“Interesting proposition. What would you want from me if you’re right?”

“Hm…” She thinks for a moment. “You know, I had something in mind when I started, but I forgot what it was. What if you made me a drink?”

Waythe laughs again, keeping himself quiet. “I have no experience in that field.”

“I mean, you’ll pay for it, too– you’ll buy me a drink, which you will then make.”

“It seems as though you lose either way.”

“I win when my bar tab doesn’t go up and I get a little high.”

“Alright, fair enough.” Waythe adjusts his glasses. “It’s a bet, then.”

He offers his hoof, and she takes it. They shake once, and part.

“It’s definitely the fey, for the record.”

“We’ll see.”

Hops suddenly gasps. “Sh!” she exclaims, peering furiously through the bushes.

Directly across from them, and just behind the hazebloom sprouts, the hedges start to rustle…