It was well past sunset when Emi shifted. She whipped her long white hair out of her face and cranked her eyes. She found herself looking dead center at Iggy who was, in turn, looking right back at her. She yawned with enough force to knock down a tree and dropped her arms like heavy branches and rolled over just like a log. Her cheek rested in the palm of her hand and she gazed upon Iggy with an obnoxious grin. "I have a lot more energy now," she noticed. "And I'm thirsty. What about you?"
The ache in Iggy's stomach became stronger now that she mentioned it, for the thirst was vaguely calling him as well, but he wouldn't acknowledge it. Not for a long time. He shook his head and stood up off the bed and gained some distance from her. Memory of the night before filled his mind. He dipped his chin and clamped a palm on the side of his head and winced. He responded, "I'm not thirsty. I feel really bad about what happened last night."
Emi had the power to see right through him. "That's the dumbest idea!" she blurted.
Iggy crooked an eyebrow. "Wha-"
"You're going to hold out, aren't you?!" Iggy waved his hand at her, dismissing her worries, but she persisted ferociously. "Last night you killed all of those people because you were so thirsty that you couldn't stop yourself. I know, because I was there."
He faced the entryway of his dark closet. "Alright. Sure. I can't make myself go down into the basement, check into a room, and kill whoever is behind the door. It's wrong. I never imagined myself having to live like that, so I'm going to find a better way." To cut her off early, he walked into the dark cubby and embraced the darkness there, where nothing could hurt him.
Unfortunately, his closet was not untouchable, and somehow all of his things were cleared out. Gone. Just gone. All of his pants and jackets with whatever they had in their pockets were gone. His favorite hand-me-down shirts and sweaters were gone. All of his familiar belongings were gone, and replaced by imposters.
Along the left wall there was a collection of previously worn dresses with tattered edges and mismatching buttons and embroidered ripples in the fabric from dozens of repairs, in which he assumed hung there now for Emi. On the other side of the closet, there were just two outfits folded and laid on the shelf. Two white shirts, two white pants, and two white shoes. Relatively new, of course worn, but not used to the extent of his previous collection.
He pulled open the first pair of pure white pants. They fell long toward the floor from his hand, and sewn along the edge of the seams was a ribbon of flashy material that reflected light, particularly helpful for seeing someone in the dark. Iggy pinched the bridge of his nose, longing for his own things back. "Where the hell is all of my stuff?" he grumbled.
Emi sprang out of bed and peeked in from around the corner. Her hair looked like a cloud of white light around her head, illuminating the darkness of the closet. When her black eyes made a full circle and she made sense of what was happening, her slender fingertips covered her mouth to hide a forming smile. Her voice shook from a touch of laughter. "Someone took all of your stuff."
The frustration bled into his cheeks. "Yes, I know!" he snapped. "I can't wear this. If I go out there, everyone is going to be watching me." He clenched the fabric in between his fingers and only barely kept himself from tearing it into pieces.
She clicked her fingers. "I bet it was Nansen. I bet he replaced it all with white stuff so you won't get lost again. He was really upset about it last time, you know?"
Iggy's voice became deep, reflecting the loss that he felt. "So, I can't hide." He shook his head sharply. "It wasn't Nansen. It was Baine. It's always Baine. When he finds out that I can do anything, he takes it away. He's taken everything away from me." He met her gaze and spoke through his tight thirsting lips, "it doesn't matter. I don't have to change. I'm staying here."
Emi pressed her mouth in on itself, a bit annoyed, and then rolled her eyes. "Nonsense. After what we did yesterday, you need to change."
She entered the closet and stood near the section that was replaced for her. She pushed through the hangers and pulled out a similar dress as the one that she was wearing, but this one was a style that was much too old for her. Dark navy blue, falling near her ankles, two sizes too big, decorated with a splatter of oil.
She sighed, defeated, and dropped her shoulders. The longing look in her eyes, too, was effortless to recognize. "I've been reduced to a peasant," she muttered. "These look as if they have been worn for more than fifty years, already. This is no way to live."
Observing it as well, Iggy nodded subtly. "The old woman from yesterday?"
"The old lady that became a replacement?" Emi cringed. "What other choice do I have besides trading with you?"
"Your dress would be better than this," he admitted. "But no. Firstly, I have no desire to wear that, and secondly, if Nansen sees me in a dress, acting like a woman, he'll kick my ass. Of all things, homosexuality and switching genders is something he's not OK with."
Her skin glowed bright red and a shrill uncontainable laugh poured out of her. She rushed the replacement dress over herself easily, then she stepped closer to him. Her lips eagerly trembled. "That's because he's gay."
"What?"
"He's gay!" she said louder. "He doesn't want any other gay men to look at you, either. How haven't you noticed? He walks around with other men all the time."
Iggy shook his head, not exactly disagreeing, but rather thinking about it. Nansen, with other men? He couldn't believe it. Nansen was a full time womanizer. Hell, he made seducing women a sport and everyone knew that he probably had more blood circulating in him from stealing than anyone else on earth. His death could wreak havoc on more than half of the house members, surely.
When Iggy noticed that Emi had continued talking beyond his focus, he forced himself to pay due attention out of respect. "...about the others?" she was saying, "I think some attention will do you good. You're so sensitive and awkward to it. I mean, they're just people. What are you so scared of them for?"