Chapter 3 - Are You... Me?

The atmosphere in the Studio felt like one of those dreams that linger far beyond the moment of waking up. Familiar, yet elusive. Warm light applied a soft filter to my surroundings and the quiet ticking of an unseen clock seemed to echo my internal rhythm.

As I glanced around once more, I attempted to reconcile the comforting recognition the place brought about with the dash of otherworldliness.

Peach had nestled on the couch with a second—third?—mug of coffee, exuding the confidence of someone blissfully unconcerned with the daily caffeine quota.

Bramble, on the other hand, was engrossed in one of the many books lying around, flipping pages with the kind of focus usually reserved for those deciphering ancient scrolls or working out where that leftover IKEA piece was supposed to go all along.

After basking in the quietness for a while, the soft rustling of pages and the warm aroma of coffee in the air, I shared the question that had been circling around in my mind. “So, I’m free to just spend time here?”

“As often as you like, for as long as you need,” came Miss Maple’s reassuring reply, the warmth of her words settling around me like the cozy scarf she kept knitting away at.

Why the Miss? It seemed fitting. And she did bear a striking similarity to Miss Marple. Though her mystery-solving seemed to be limited to knitting patterns, no corpses. Unless you count the casualties of the occasional dropped stitch.

For a moment, the hedgehog’s words were all I needed to feel at ease. Then, a question rose to the surface. “But what about—”

“Not an issue.” Peach grinned, a little too pleased with his uncanny timing, as if he’d been waiting for this exact moment to chime in.

“How did you—”

“Oh, you know. Psychic fox powers.”

“Peach. Don’t tease. Let her get her bearings.” Bramble gave him a side-eye before returning to her pages, lingering here and there to savor the moment before moving on.

It felt oddly simple to not worry about their playful bickering, despite knowing I was the subject.

In the real world—because this couldn’t be that—I’d be spiraling at this point. Had I said or done the wrong thing? Had I missed some invisible cue? Whatever the case, they were definitely judging me.

Except in here, I knew they weren’t.

Instead, I found myself appreciating Peach’s playful teasing. Somehow, no one ever engaged in that type of banter with me. The kind only those with a natural gift for social interactions get to enjoy. But that’s a whole other thing to unpack.

“How do you mean, not an issue?” I asked, my curiosity taking a front-row seat.

Maple indicated a large mirror I hadn’t noticed before, and I headed over, feeling like I’d stepped into a riddle of some sort.

When I stood in front of it, the orange glow made me wonder if Peach had invaded my personal space again. He wasoddly good at doing that without me noticing. But no, he was still on the couch.

A second glance revealed a shine of black and white, which seemed to reflect Bramble’s features. When I checked, she was still buried in her book.

Intriguing. Or confusing. Quite out of the ordinary, either way.

After a moment more, I noticed a shift in the reflection and I leaned in to examine it.

With each blink, a different set of eyes stared back at me.

Maple. Blink. Peach. Blink. Bramble. Blink. Me.

“Are you… me?” I heard myself utter before tearing my gaze away and looking at each of my companions in turn.

Only Bramble spoke.

“Does it matter?”

I let the words hang in the air for a moment before granting them full access.

“No,” I found myself saying, a sense of clarity taking hold within. “No, I suppose it doesn’t.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. In the midst of these fragments of myself, I felt more me than I ever had before.