Grian took off his elytra after landing in a familiar, budding field of wheat.
Spring was beautiful. A myriad of flowers were just starting to bloom, some trees were already sprouting bright green, little leaves and the river was a sparkling blue as it reflected a perfect, iridescent sky with gentle, fluffy clouds framing the horizon.
It was perfect.
He walked down the road to the docks, to his storage area to gather supplies. He'd talked with Gem and the latter had made a suggestion on how they could better blend their bases. It involved tearing a hole in the wall of Grian’s dry dock, but she was correct – there was a visible line where their styles clashed and he ought to fix that with some blending.
So, he picked up his shulkers and got to work. His body felt kind of tense and he wasn't sure why.
He took down a large chunk of the wall to get started. It didn't look good, but he was going to fill it in, so it didn't matter. He'd do a great job and their bases would blend perfectly and, well – as he placed block after block, he found himself wondering why he hadn't done a great job the first time around. That's why he was doing this, right? Because the side of the dry dock looked bad. How could that have happened? He was sure he'd been paying attention when he built it. Was Gem simply wrong? Maybe she should have been adjusting her surrounding area to his instead.
Grian paused. Why was he thinking such mean things about his friend? He took a few steps back, literally, to observe his new wall and figuratively, to get to the bottom of this.
Gem hadn't even said his wall looks bad. She just suggested that they try to blend their areas more and when she brought up the dock, Grian had found himself agreeing on instinct. He didn't want to inconvenience her. Why? Grian wasn't a people-pleaser, he hadn't been since… Since a long time, now.
A gust of wind blew through the river valley. The scent of flowers, the rainy air of the water, it all felt so lonely despite how relaxing it should have been. The rays of the Sun still passing low in mid-spring drew long shadows behind the trees. The river tides softly licked at the shoreline. It tasted of concession. His mind felt numb.
He didn't like the new wall. That must've been it. In fact, he liked the old one better. The old one was perfectly fine the way it was, he'd decided. He should have taken a picture of it, because now he couldn't remember how exactly it had been.
He really did cave to people too easily, all the time. It was his fault, really. So, he started cleaning up and tore the wall down, again. But what if Gem would find it weird? It was a strange thing to do, right? Agreeing and saying something's a good idea, going through with it only to turn around and say it's stupid and backtrack a few hours later. Well, Grian should have been more careful. Why was he like this? Why did he feel like this and why couldn't he make it stop?
By the time he finished putting up the third version of the wall, he felt exhausted. It didn't look good, again, it wasn't the same as the first version and as he kept trying to adjust it it only seemed to become more and more different.
The Sun was beginning to set. Well, even if his build looked awful, it was time to wrap up for the day. He didn't feel like going to sleep, though, suddenly feeling hyper-aware of how exposed his bed was. It was spring, now, who knew what would crawl in? So instead, he found himself fishing by the light of a lantern.
Something was off, but he couldn't figure out what. He felt jumpy and anxious, so he combed through his head for anything that might be making him feel that way, so he could fix it. He was worried about the wall? He shouldn't have been, it was fine. He was worried about if he'd accidentally offended Bdubs a few weeks back? He shouldn't have been, he hadn’t. He was worried about what the others thought about him when he first joined the server who-knows-how-many years ago?
…
This was stupid, he was only making himself feel worse. Feeling a bite, he reeled in his fishing rod. It was only seaweed. He cast it again.
His mind felt like it had been skipping around a certain part, though. So, he figured, if he could just force himself to focus on that detail, he could fix this. He could fix himself.
His heart was beating so fast. Why?
… Why was he doing this song and dance again? He had done this over and over in the past it it never went well. Remembering. Forgetting. Remembering. Forgetting.
He stared into the river, pure ink in the darkness of the night.
Every time he remembered he wished he could forget and each time he forgot he hated and resented himself for being weak, only to seek those memories out again as the cycle continued. He knew as much even with the details so fuzzy.
But if he didn't remember, he couldn't fix it. If Grian couldn't fix it, how could he get anything done?
He placed his fishing rod on the dock and rubbed his forehead. He was spiraling. He was spiraling and he had to call someone. But it was already night, his friends were probably sleeping, he didn't want to bother anybody with his stupid brain not working properly. But he really didn't want to be alone, anymore, either.
He sent Mumbo a message and surprisingly, he was still awake. Grian asked if he could come over and the other agreed.
Grian heard a lot of sneezing as he approached from the skies and saw Mumbo give him a big wave. He landed not far from him, then walked over and hugged the man.
"Hi buddy, how are you?" Mumbo asked, wrapping his arms around him.
Grian pressed his face to the soft fabric of his nightrobe. "Feeling stupid"
"Ah, that's alright. Wanna come in? I'd stay outside but my – Achoo! – allergies will kill me, I think" he suggested, taking the lead.
Grian nodded and they moved inside, to a small, cozy living room. It really was tiny, the couch occupying one entire wall as a result, right next to a window which was in a similar position. It was perfect to curl up in, Mumbo had outdone himself.
The latter sat down first and Grian took the chance to lay on the couch with his head in the other's lap, because Mumbo was his Mumbo and he could sit on him however he damn pleased. That was an immutable fact of their friendship. He giggled a little as he looked up and Mumbo brushed a hand through his hair.
"Alright, what’s going on?"
Right, he came here because of that. It was really easy to forget when he was with his friends, so that was nice at least.
Grian sighed. "I'm just twitchy, I guess. I can't figure out why, though"
Remembering. Forgetting. Remembering. Forgetting.
Mumbo gave him a sympathetic smile, his mustache crinkling around the edges. "Weird question, but have you checked the calendar lately?"
Grian raised his eyebrows. "No, why?"
"It's April" the other noted.
That was true. It, indeed, was April. What did that have to do with anything, though?
"It's, uh. It's when my allergies start getting really bad from all the trees – really pretty trees, by the way – so my body always makes sure I know it's April"
Grian snorted. "So, you're saying my April senses are just tingling?"
"I – Well, maybe, but – " Mumbo hummed. "I hope it's not overstepping anything to say I've noticed that you're always having a hard time this time of year. You know, because I'm always stuck inside and you coming over is the only interesting thing that happens"
Grian froze. "What? Really?"
He tried to recall, but…
Remembering. Right, last year he'd remembered and that was bad, that ended horribly for him, so horribly he had forgotten he had remembered. Grian suddenly felt very exposed, aware of the possibility that his friend might know more about him than what he himself could collect in one scoop.
"Yeah, really. Did – …" Mumbo paused. "Is there something about April? Wait, no, bad question, you don't have to answer that if you don't want to"
Grian chuckled. Mumbo got so worried about everything. He was a really good friend. Grian appreciated that a lot.
"I… I don't know, I guess. Or I do know, just… Just not right now, if that makes sense" he explained. Something else wanted to come out of his mouth, but he swallowed the words back down.
Mumbo nodded.
Grian frowned. "I'm really never getting better, am I" he let out with a sigh.
"I think you get better every year" Mumbo countered, pulling his legs up a bit so Grian had an easier time facing him. "Besides, you've survived every April thus far"
"And none of them have been as bad as that first one"
It slipped out. Grian had been keeping it caged and it had somehow sizzled through between the bars. It really was in April, how could he forget that? If it was out, though, it dawned on Grian that everything else might be roaming free in his mind, now, as well. Oh no.
Mumbo ruffled his hair. That brought him back to reality a bit.
"Mumbo?" he asked, his voice betraying him with a crack.
The other man smiled."Yes, Grian?"
"Can I – Can I tell you about something?"
He felt so small all of a sudden. Forgetting. Remembering. Forgetting. Remembering. Constantly being pushed and pulled in all directions, it was enough already.
"Of course, you can tell me anything"
Grian sat up and faced him. Now that he was here, the words abruptly felt stuck in his throat despite so desperately wanting to break free a few moments prior.
"So – I…"
In a small room lit by lanterns, two men talked about something. If no one was Watching, did they still make a sound?
Mumbo wasn’t only the perfect friend, he was also the perfect sitting apparatus, Grian had decided.
"Will you let me get up or is this my life, now?"
"Just for a little longer – "
Grian let out a content sigh, snuggling deeper into the ticklish crook of his neck. Mumbo yelped, but he couldn't escape – not that he really wanted to.