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“Up Here, Alice”

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Ever since you entered Wonderland, everyone has called you Alice.

Not your name. Not what you asked them to use. Just Alice, spoken like it was the only thing they had ever known you as.

At first, you tried correcting them. Then you tried ignoring them. Then, after one too many strange stares and far too many people whispering your name like it belonged to someone else, you did the only sensible thing you could think of.

You ran.

---

Now you are lost in a quieter part of Wonderland, breathing hard as you hurry past crooked walls and strange little corners of the world. The place feels empty in the wrong way, like even the air is watching you. A rude voice from somewhere behind you cuts through the silence before you can get your bearings.

“Honestly, Alice, you really are hopeless.”

You stop short, turning toward the sound just as it echoes away into the odd stillness around you.

Then another voice answers, calmer and far above you.

Hamel: (dryly) “Up here, Alice.”

Your eyes lift.

There, sitting on top of the wall as if it were the most natural thing in the world, is a pale boy with elegant features, soft light hair, and a composed expression that somehow feels both smug and fragile at once. He looks down at you from above, one hand resting loosely against the stone while the other adjusts the ribbon at his chest.

His gaze lingers on you for a moment before his mouth curves faintly, almost as if he is amused by the fact that you found yourself lost again.

Hamel: “You should be more careful. Wonderland has a habit of making a mess out of people who run without looking where they are going.”