The Cursed Bag Charm

The afternoon light filtered through the grove’s crystalline leaves, casting rainbow fractals across the moss-covered ground where Labubu had been napping. He stretched his small arms above his head, yawning wide enough to show his pointed teeth, and rolled over to look for his friends.

What he saw made his heart drop straight through his stomach.

Momoko and Zimomo sat beneath the old willow, so close their cheeks were nearly touching. Momoko’s delicate hand rested on Zimomo’s shoulder, and they were both smiling—that soft, secret kind of smile that made Labubu’s chest tight with something he couldn’t name.

“The lighting is perfect here,” Momoko was saying, holding up a small enchanted crystal that captured images. “Just tilt your head a little more—there!”

The crystal flashed, preserving the moment forever. Preserving them together, while Labubu watched from the shadows like some forgotten afterthought.

His small fists clenched. Heat prickled behind his eyes—not tears, never tears, but something angrier and more wounded. How long had this been going on? How many secret moments had they shared while he was sleeping, or gathering berries, or practicing his magic like the good little friend he thought he was?

The betrayal sat in his throat like a stone.

“That one’s beautiful,” Zimomo murmured, leaning closer to see the image in Momoko’s crystal. “We should show Labubu when he—”

“No.” The word escaped him before he could stop it, sharp and bitter. Both girls looked up, startled, as he stepped out from behind the tree trunk. “Don’t bother including me now.”

“Labubu?” Momoko’s brow furrowed with genuine confusion. “What’s wrong?”

Wrong? What’s wrong? The question almost made him laugh, except nothing about this felt funny. They were sitting there, pressed together like lovers, asking what could possibly be wrong about their best friend finding them like this.

“Nothing,” he said, and felt his magic respond to the lie, crackling dark and mischievous along his fingertips. “Nothing at all.”

The spell built itself before he could think it through—fueled by hurt and jealousy and the terrible certainty that he’d lost something precious without even knowing when it had slipped away. Magic was supposed to be careful, deliberate, but this felt more like breathing: automatic and unstoppable.

“Labubu, wait—” Zimomo started to stand, her hand outstretched toward him.

Too late.

The curse left his fingers in a burst of violet light, wrapping around Zimomo like silk threads. She had time for one sharp gasp before the transformation took hold—her body shrinking, her limbs pulling inward, her voice cutting off mid-protest as she became soft and small and silent.

Where Zimomo had been sitting, a tiny plush charm now lay against the moss. She still looked like herself, but miniaturized and helpless, her small black eyes wide with shock and what might have been fear.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Momoko stared at the charm that had been her friend, her face cycling through disbelief, understanding, and finally, a cold kind of fury that made Labubu take an involuntary step backward.

“You cursed her,” Momoko said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I—” Labubu’s magic flickered uncertainly. Now that it was done, now that his anger was spent, the spell felt different. Heavier. Wrong. “She’ll change back. I just... I needed...”

“You needed what, exactly?” Momoko scooped up the Zimomo charm with careful hands, cradling it against her chest. “To punish her for something she didn’t even do?”

“Didn’t do?” The accusation stung worse than he’d expected. “I saw you! The way you were looking at each other, touching—”

“We were taking pictures, you absolute fool!” Momoko’s composure cracked, revealing the fear underneath. “For my portfolio project! She was helping me with lighting techniques!”

The words hit him like cold water. Pictures. A project. Not... not whatever he’d imagined in his jealousy-twisted mind.

Before he could respond, before he could even begin to process what he’d done, footsteps crunched through the leaves nearby. A human girl, maybe twelve or thirteen, emerged from the forest path with a canvas bag slung over her shoulder and wonder bright in her eyes.

“Oh wow,” she breathed, spotting the tiny charm in Momoko’s hands. “Is that handmade? It’s so cute!”

Momoko’s eyes went wide with panic. In the human world, they were just toys—elaborate, expensive toys, but toys nonetheless. She couldn’t speak to this girl, couldn’t explain that the “charm” was actually their friend trapped by a curse.

“I’ll give you twenty dollars for it,” the girl continued, already reaching into her bag for her wallet. “My little sister would absolutely love—”

“No!” Labubu lunged forward, but humans couldn’t hear him when he was in his true form. To the girl, he was just another toy, animated by her imagination. She scooped both the Zimomo charm and Momoko into her arms before anyone could protest.

“Actually, I’ll take both! They match perfectly!”

And then she was walking away, disappearing back down the forest path with both of his friends tucked safely in her bag, while Labubu stood frozen in the dappled light, watching his world fall apart one step at a time.

The grove felt impossibly quiet without them. Even the crystalline leaves seemed to have stopped their gentle chiming, as if the magic itself was holding its breath, waiting to see what he would do next.

Labubu looked down at his hands—the same hands that had cast the curse, that had turned his jealousy into something real and terrible and possibly irreversible. Zimomo’s eyes had been so wide when the magic took hold. Not angry, not hurt.

Afraid.

Of him.

He closed his eyes and tried to think. The curse wasn’t permanent—he was almost sure it wasn’t permanent. But curses had conditions, and this one had been cast in anger, without thought for consequences. To break it, he’d need... what? An apology? A genuine change of heart? True love’s kiss?

He groaned and pressed his palms against his temples. This was exactly the kind of overcomplicated mess that happened when you let emotions drive your magic instead of logic.

But first things first: he had to find them. The human girl was already out of sight, probably heading back toward the city where humans lived in their concrete warrens, surrounded by metal and noise and everything that made magic harder to control.

Labubu had never been to the human world alone.

He looked around the grove one more time—at the spot where Momoko and Zimomo had been sitting, at the forgotten image crystal still lying in the grass, at the rainbow light that suddenly seemed too cheerful for what he’d done.

Then he took a deep breath, gathered what courage he could find, and started walking toward the path that would take him into a world where his magic might not be enough to fix what he’d broken.

Behind him, the crystal caught the light one more time, displaying the image Momoko had captured: two friends sitting close together, smiling at something beyond the frame. Just friends, taking pictures in good light.

Just friends, and he’d been too blind with jealousy to see it.