Fishy wandered around the city that had a different mood to his own.
He walked through the dark yet cheerful streets until he ended up at his own house, but he continued to walk past it. As his intended destination was not his own place, but it was Clara's house next door that he was after.
Since the passing of her grandfather, many had not seen her. The day after the funeral, she never left her house. Fishy would leave food outside the door for her, and it seemed to vanish by the end of the day, but that was all he saw from her.
But today was the day he would try again. It was meant to be the day Clara was looking forward to the most, Christmas day.
He went to approach her door, but he found someone else standing outside, the slender mature Tin, mother of the triplets, closing the door behind her.
"How is she?" Fishy asked.
"She isn't eating much."
"What about the triplets?"
"They are fine. They are still young so it's easy for them to forget and distract with Christmas and all. But it's not easy for someone like Clara."
"Cause she's stubborn?" Fishy joked in hopes Clara was listening through the window, but he got no response.
"That was somewhat rude,"
"I apologise." Fishy said as his face turned red from embarrassment, "But, it's my turn to try and cheer her up."
Tin hopped of the step leading to Clara's door and began to walk away, giving Fishy space.
"I'll be handing out hot chocolate if you need me."
"Oh, and Tin!" Fishy shouted to get her attention before she vanished into the small crowd. "Happy Birthday!"
Tin smiled greatly before turning around and carrying on with her day. Her heart was happy to hear the strange words that she hadn't heard in years.
But, at this moment, Fishy was the attention.
As he stood outside Clara's door he got ready to pump himself up. He breathed in and out, making sure that he was alive and that he wasn't going to slip up and say something insensitive to her face. He jogged on the spot to get the blood flowing, reminding him that he was human.
And then, he knocked on her door.
Three simple knocks.
"Clara?" He called out, hoping the door would be opened. "Can I come in?"
Clara gave no response.
"I'll take that as a yes."
Fishy walked into the candlelit room, one the same size as his own, except far more cramped. A variety of books and pages of paper were scattered along the floor. Dirty clothes were randomly thrown about on the wooden floor, as in the centre of the room, wrapped up in a blanket atop a chair, sat the dead-eyed, pink-haired beauty.
She was unaware of how messy her hair was, not that she cared. She did notice Fishy walking in but was too exhausted to fix herself.
It seemed as if several days had passed since she last rested.
"How are you holding up?" Fishy asked.
"Fine…" Clara responded, slowly turning her head to face Fishy who sat opposite. Her emotionless clear blue eyes looked into Fishy's attempt at a smile. But it was impossible for him to even fake it when seeing the death-like state Clara was in.
Fishy sat on a chair opposite, slowly pulling it closer to see how she'd react. All he wanted was a slight reaction, just so he could see the old Clara again.
After three slight shuffles forward, he got a reaction.
"What are you doing?" She asked, pulling her own chair back, but it was already against the wall.
"Just wanted to start a conversation… You weren't speaking and I didn't know what to say."
"I was just thinking." She turned her head away, facing out the window that was beside her, into her tiny back garden, dead and decayed from the lack of sun.
"What about?" Asked Fishy.
"My Granddad… he said he was a Celestial… and my parents… all of it was a lie."
"Well, from what I know about one annoying Celestial, they seem to be complicated creatures. This whole world is just stupidly complicated."
"I suppose it is…"
Fishy wanted to tell her that it'd be ok and that he had a plan, but he had no such thing. He could only sit and look away from her, unable to console her.
"Oh, before I forget." Fishy dug into his pockets and pulled out a small badly wrapped gift. Since the city hadn't invented wrapping paper, it was wrapped in normal writing paper.
"What is it?" Clara said as she was handed it, feeling the squishy feeling of whatever it was.
"Open it, it's a Christmas present."
Clara did as told, easily ripping apart the paper to reveal two soft pink mittens that matched her hair.
"Merry Christmas!" Fishy smiled as he watched Clara's reaction carefully, hoping to see if she'd like it or not.
But he wasn't expecting her to cry.
Endless tears escaped her face.
"What's wrong?" Fishy said as he stood up in a panic, trying to care for her but unsure if hugging or holding was allowed.
"Sorry…" Clara said as she wiped away her tears. "It's strange… Thank you… I love them."
Clara smiled as she put them on. The warm insides were far more effective than the old blanket she currently warped herself in, and the size was perfect.
"I've got to head off." Fishy said as he approached the door to leave, "Do come outside and look at all the Christmas lights. We'd all like you to see them. We'd all like to celebrate Christmas with you."
He closed the door behind him, feeling the bitter cold air that snapped away at his hands, wishing he had the gloves he had just given away.
But, there was another surprise waiting for him. As a humanoid figure, one with complex hair that was loud in his mind stood before him.
Someone he had only recently soon a few days ago.
The butterfly Celestial, Beauty.