Lost Smile and Strange Circus

third half

"Oddman! There you are. Where have you--"

A boy, who seemed to be the same age as Noah, approached the pair with loud stomps.

As he caught sight of the curious, new kid, the boy with glasses framing his square paperbag for a face stopped in his sentence midway.

An outburst from the same person followed soon after.

"Woah! A human girl! Oddman, who is she?"

Oddman tilted his head, gesturing for the boy to leave them for a while.

"I shall explain things later, Jack. For now, go back to your post. The performance is going to begin in a while."

"Th-that's right! Sorry, Oddman! Bye, human!"

He skipped off, and away, into one of the large tents.

Noah's eyes trailed after him, gazing at Jack with suspecting eyes.

Much to her disappointment when the tent's flap closed, Oddman invited her into one.

They sat on a comfortable couch, and she watched as Oddman fixed the flap so it wouldn't obscure their view of the exterior of the circus.

"Are you tired? I can't tell."

He asked.

"I'm fine. Rather, it's getting me excited. So many things happened to me in one evening."

She mentioned excitement, though, you wouldn't catch on to it if you were to watch her speaking.

Cold.

Very, very cold.

She burried her face into her crimson scarf, remembering the ordeal she had faced back in the alley.

"That's right. Where are my wounds?"

"It's fine. Upon entering the world beyond the darkness, the balance between the physical body and the mental shape would have been disrupted. As such, in this circus, you won't feel anything physically, pain, exhaustion, nothing."

Noah nodded, absorbing the information like a sponge.

"The only thing that could help you retain the feeling of still being alive is your own state of mind."

He spoke in his nostalgic voice.

He sounded so. . . Queer, yet so normal.

Where has she encountered such a tone before?

Has she, or was it just similar?

"Hm. So you mean to say. . . I'm dead?"

Oddman moved towards an object inside the tent, and he took it upon his hands as he walked to get to Noah, who was swinging her thin legs as she sat on the couch.

"No, you aren't. Not really. But you're not alive, either."

She breathed, getting a sharp intake of something sickeningly sweet.

It wasn't the smell of blood, nor was it the smell of something delicious such as bread or tea.

"Then what am I right now?"

"Let's see. . . A wraith stuck in between the two mysteries of human life."

She tilted her head, confused by the words of someone who seemed to have lived more than who she had ever known.

"For now, stand outside the gate and rock this lamp."

Oddman lit the candle in the yellow lamp, handing it to the small girl, who took it willingly and with avarice.