"Eh... Eh."
Yoyo sat in silence, legs propped up in her seat as she held a concert pamphlet.
"It isn't?"
She asked the fluffy snow-white rat with Luna moths fluttering around it in the glove box. It played on a crystal orb that glowed with a purple light.
"No, it isn't," it answered with Qiren's voice.
He sat back in his seat, holding her rat high as the two of them communicated.
"Maybe you're really bad at riddles," he murmured against the rat's ear. "First you mess up the first riddle."
"Even after I gave you a proper hint."
The moths around his rat flew forward, removing her hoodie. Fluttering their wings against her, sent to agitate her—and they worked.
She was annoyed by the buzzing, swatting them away with her one remaining arm.
"How was I supposed to know you were talking about these moths?"
"I didn't even know Luna moths existed," she said, regretting she hadn't guessed right.
Now she had one sixth of her rat's stolen, reflected by her missing left arm. Now that she had failed again, she didn't know what else he'd take.
"You cheated, giving me an impossible task back then."
"And you did the same now." She got up from the passenger side. "You said the answer to your second riddle would be in this van." Her feet moved between the two seats.
Looking around the camping van, the bunk beds were overturned. Pantry shelves hung open but empty. The bathroom door was halfway open, with cockroaches moving along every surface.
"But the only thing I found was that festival paper, and it matched everything you made the riddle out to be."
She turned back to the glove box angrily.
"You even watched me search through it for connections!"
The rat representing Qiren only grinned.
"I said this van was the key, holding its 'dear secret' first. I also said you should check the glove box for a clue, not that you had to."
His smug voice irritated her further.
"Huh?!"
For the first time in her unlife, she had never wanted to punch something so hard.
"What does this van have to do with the riddle? You never mentioned driving or anything vehicle-related."
Qiren's rat squeaked.
"I didn't need to... It's not the van itself, but what it represents. Take a good look—what is this vehicle called?"
"I don't know... a sleeping van?"
She was genuinely lost on what the van was called.
She might have spent her time scavenging through stuff, but she had never paid attention to the names of vehicles beyond the common distinctions: street cars, vans, buses, taxis, small and large trucks.
"Sigh."
"Shut it," Yoyo snapped, already embarrassed and not wanting him to demean her efforts with a cold breath.
Qiren fixed the sectioned-off rabbit puppet.
"So you don't want me to tell you what you missed?"
She clenched her fist, looking back at the smug rodent.
"I'll take your silence as a yes," he whispered. "Well, you see, this van is actually called a mountainside camper," he named its brand. "That's the first clue, though I'll admit it's hard to understand."
"But what you should focus on is the word camper."
"As reading that paired with the riddle and my first clue now becomes—"
"Dear secret camper."
"I live only when the sun stays long and the nights hum with crickets.
By day I echo with splashes and shouted dares; by night I glow with firelight and whispered secrets.
Strangers arrive with packed bags and guarded hearts, but leave with smoke in their clothes and memories stitched into them."
"It might not seem like a big change at first, but with that context you know I'm talking to a camper—one that visits a place only when the sun stays long and the nights hum with wildlife insects."
"What kind of place is that?"
She blinked, thinking about it.
"A camp in the mountains?"
"Good job," he replied.
"Then how about the next part—where in the mountains can you find something that splashes during the day and attracts fireflies at night?"
She was thinking, but Qiren answered for her.
His puppet moved, already formed in Yoyo's image.
"It sounds like liquid if it can splash... So if this place is in the woods or near mountains, then it could be a fresh body of water. Maybe a river or... a lake! If it attracts fireflies, it has to be a lake."
"Good job again," Qiren praised the doll.
The real Yoyo watched through the rat he held.
"Now put together what you've made out of the last sentence. What am I?"
"You're a camp—"
"Summer camp."
Two voices layered together, arriving at roughly the same answer.
"It's really a shame you couldn't get this right on the first try."
Yoyo froze.
Her mind raced through the meaning of his words.
It's really a shame you couldn't get this right on the first try.
Her stomach dropped.
One sixth of her body was already gone—her arms worth of spirit bodies.
If the punishment repeated every failure...
That meant out of the original amount of Spirit Bodies at her disposal. He'd have two sixths of what remained.
Her eyes slowly lowered to what was left of her body, imagining another piece disappearing. Her chest tightened.
"Wait—"
Her voice came out thin.
"You mean you'll take—"
But Qiren lifted a finger.
"Actually," he said calmly, cutting her off, "I might have made this one a little unfair."
Yoyo blinked.
"What?"
He leaned back slightly in his seat, rabbit puppet tilting as if thinking.
"Getting the answer correctly would have required you to know what a camper was called," he continued. "More specifically, that this vehicle is called a mountainside camper."
The rat in his hand twitched its whiskers as he spoke.
"I wanted to counterbalance that by telling you to search the glove box. I assumed you'd stumble onto an old vehicle manual or some kind of documentation."
His red eyes glanced toward the open compartment.
"But it seems there wasn't any proper paperwork inside."
Only the wrinkled festival pamphlet sat there.
"So."
He shrugged lightly.
"I'll void this round."
Silence filled the van.
Yoyo stared at him.
Then her eyes widened.
"Wait—really?"
Relief rushed through her so suddenly she almost laughed. Her shoulders sagged as the tension drained from her body.
"I… I don't lose anything?"
"Nope."
For a moment she felt like the world had been lifted off her chest.
Her tail flicked behind her.
"Ha—!"
But the sound died halfway out of her mouth.
Something felt… wrong.
Her smile slowly faded.
Qiren hadn't finished talking.
He was still watching her.
Waiting.
Her stomach tightened again.
"And…" he added casually.
There it was.
"In exchange," he said, voice light, "I want you to send a few of your rats back through the scrapyard."
Yoyo stiffened.
"Why?"
"To eavesdrop."
His puppet tilted his gaze mapping out the treeline.
"Investigators should already be crawling around the place by now. Police, maybe federal agents depending on how noisy that little event became."
The moths lazily circled the glove box.
"I'd like to hear what they're saying."
He gently set the rat down on his palm.
"So send a few of your little friends back there."
His smile returned.
"And listen."