Simone

The bell above the door chimed softly as Arista stepped inside, still staring at the plushie in the window, barely registering her own movement.

"...Strawberry?"

The voice came from behind the counter, and Arista's head snapped up.

The woman sitting there looked nothing like Nettle, ordinary brown hair instead of vivid green, a face Arista had never seen before, dressed in simple, unremarkable clothes unlike anything from the game. But the voice, the exact cadence, the warmth threaded through a single word, left no room for doubt.

"...Nettle?" Arista breathed.

The woman laughed, delighted, rising from her stool. "...It's really you. I'd recognize that hair anywhere. I always wondered if the pink-red was actually natural or just your character design."

"...It's natural," Arista admitted, still stunned, staring at her now. "I was born with it. That's actually why I gave Strawberry the same hair."

"I figured," the woman said, grinning. "I'm Simone, by the way. Actual name. Feels strange saying it after all this time of just being Nettle to you."

"...Simone," Arista repeated, testing the name, still reeling from the coincidence. "How, the plushie in the window, how do you even have that? I thought everything from the game just—"

"Ended? Vanished entirely?" Simone said, smiling. "It did. I just didn't wait for it to."

Arista blinked. "Wait. You recreated the design before the servers closed?"

"Of course."

"How?"

Simone shrugged. "Logged in. Took measurements. Logged out. Drew them. Logged back in when I realized I'd forgotten something."

Arista stared at her. "How many times?"

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

"I stopped counting."

"...Nettle."

"There was a market." Simone's grin widened. "The worst part was Beelz. Here, let me show you."

She cleared her throat and dropped her voice into a deep, formal register.

"Nettle."

"Hm?"

"This is the fourth time you have stared at my likeness without speaking."

"Hold still."

"...Why?"

"Your left horn is wrong."

"MY HORN IS NOT WRONG."

"The plushie's is. Stop moving."

Simone dropped the voice, looking thoroughly pleased with the performance, and Arista was laughing too hard to answer for a moment.

"He let you?"

"Eventually. The prototype's left horn was off by almost a centimeter. He took it personally anyway." She tapped the stack of shipping boxes behind the counter. "I made a few for myself, then a few friends wanted some, then people online started asking. The furniture is what walks in off the street. The plushies are my online side business. I keep one in the window as a sample."

Arista shook her head, delighted despite the lingering shock. "...Of course you turned it into an actual business. Even in real life."

Simone grinned, reached behind the counter, and held out a plushie. "Here, you can have this."

"Really?"

"Yes. With the friends and family discount, that will be 19.95."

Arista looked at the plushie, then back at Simone in open disbelief. "You're charging me?"

"Fine. 15.95, because it's you."

Arista stared at her for another second. Then she started laughing. "You really are Nettle."

"Old habits," Simone said, grinning.

Arista turned the plushie over in her hands. "...Wait. That's backwards."

Simone frowned. "What's backwards?"

"What I used to do. I'd research something out here, then log in and build it in the game." She nodded at the plushie. "You designed something in the game and rebuilt it out here."

Simone considered that. "...Huh."

They looked at each other for a moment.

Simone grinned. "Mine made money."

Arista smiled even harder. "Mine gave me a full ride."

Simone's grin faltered. "...University?"

"Full scholarship."

Simone stared at her.

Arista's smile became unbearably smug.

"...The plushie is 19.95," Simone said.

"You just said 15.95."

"That was before I knew you were doing fine."

Arista was still laughing when Simone wiped her eyes and straightened. "Listen, do you want to grab a cup of tea? I've got about a thousand questions, and I imagine you might too."

"...I'd love that," Arista said, warmth flooding through her.

Simone hesitated, a cheeky, knowing smile spreading across her face. "...Would it be alright if I brought my husband along?"

Arista blinked. "...Husband? Um, sure?"

Simone turned toward the back of the shop, and in profile Arista noticed, for the first time, the unmistakable swell of a heavily pregnant belly beneath her shop apron.

"...Oh," Arista said, stunned all over again.

Simone grinned over her shoulder, calling out warmly. "...Honey? Will you join us for tea?"