the first thing sienna notices is that ishtar says her name. that sends a flurry of emotions through sienna, each one a butterfly with razor wings, tearing her apart inside with excitement she should not feel. it hurts, more than she can bare to understand, but it’s the type of excitement she hasn’t felt in years. with ishtar, it was a lot of stress, yes—a lot of wondering, a lot of waiting, a lot of watching for ishtar to leave again. it was also Life. maybe not a life worth living, but at least a proper one. she remembers waking on those days she was blessed enough to have ishtar stay with her. rolling over on a flimsy dorm mattress and seeing ishtar in the opposite bed, sun in her hair… 💛. a student of solar studies—beyond fitting, beyond appropriate for ishtar, the brightest star of them all. a mystery, captivating, glowing, sienna’s fixation and adoration. ishtar, the sun, and sienna, every planet that surrounded her, kept in orbit by the laws of ishtar’s attraction.
and yet, ishtar never said her name. did she? sienna closes her eyes for a moment. she wants to remember, but her own name feels foreign to herself when she thinks of it in association with ishtar. it was always sienna and ishtar in sienna’s mind, but she’d wager it was ishtar, free in ishtar’s mind. if you don’t have a name, you’re not a person. so long as they speak your name, you will never die, but sienna’s name was never spoken. it’s why she’s alight with emotion now, disarmed, once more, by ishtar.
she opens her eyes again, and ishtar is still there. not a day has gone by that sienna has not thought of her name. her mind speaks it daily, so that ishtar will never die, and she has clearly only gotten livelier with time. the newfound interest, the warmth, the sparkle in ishtar’s eyes fueled by genuine presence rather by knowledge that a door is always waiting ( so long as she had nothing to lose, she was free ) has made all the difference. sometimes sienna trembles, thinking of all they could be—could have been.
❛ if you don’t make people angry, you’re not doing the right thing. ❜ sienna still feels cornered, but she won’t melt into the wall. she won’t approach ishtar either, because that is uncharted territory. instead, all she will do is cling to her cane and to her clenched fist from the arthur meme because it is all she can do.
ishtar is smiling at her, and it is full of warmth. sienna does not smile back, because sienna does not smile. being sienna means smiling through your words and actions instead of your face. being sienna also means falling apart at ishtar’s smile, because your younger self would have paid anything for that expression of interest.
still, ishtar is here now, and she is present, and she’s still ishtar. she wrote that article that made people angry. good for her. sienna is prouder than she can say. she wishes she could say something equally impressive about herself, but the truth is that all sienna’s done is make all the wrong people angry. not, not even angry—the few that know what she did regard her with pity rather than anger, and sienna can’t stand it. that’s why she’s thought about ishtar so much lately. ishtar never looked at her with pity. she barely looked at her at all, but that was better than pity.
❛ you haven’t heard about me because there are special interests in keeping me anonymous. ❜ every word is shaky, because ishtar is doing so well, and sienna wishes she were good enough to match that. she wishes ishtar would look at her and see someone equally successful instead of—whatever sienna is now. god, she misses her younger self—struggling, but with a heart full of passion and hope and genuine belief in humanity and love / ishtar. sienna still believes in love / ishtar, because ishtar is evidence that sometimes things do work out, but everything else in sienna’s life is broken.
❛ it’s good to see you too, ishtar. ❜ sienna means it. she means it so much it hurts. and there are a million more things she wants to say. ( but ) an awkward glance around reminds her that it’s not just the two of them, though that’s how it is in her mind. ❛ er… it’s a bit crowded in here, do you agree? ❜
the inferno virus could have solved that, but never mind.
« dunno how good i'm at doin' the right thin', but gettin' 'em angry is easy. » getting them angry was, at first, an outlet she absolutely needed : ishtar was used to leave people hungry for more. she was used to create an interest & then disappear. she was used to people wonder about her, all distrustful of her existence. it was a game she loved, a game she was good at. so when she left her car & moved in with caranthir, she had to change the rules. the game could no longer be played the same way, she realized, because hunger - on the long term - often turns to anger. so she cultivated that, turned it into another mindgame, made sure she would win every time. and she did. that is the most troubling thing about ishtar : no matter what she tries, the sheer chaos of her calculations usually get her the right answer. in class, phantom among the living, a wild collective memory, only there an hour & then gone the next. at work, an annoyance you couldn't possibly keep quiet. the thesis had been a game, like the rest of it, but it had been a risky one : another step into the grown-up world, for a book was a bit of remembrance, something that time would conserve.
« special interests, uh ? wha' did ya do. » and for a second she is ishtar, she is twenty, messy hair & amused bottomless pool eyes. she is the keeper of secrets & the maker of messes. she'll be gone before you can blink ; so you know you can confide in her, be it a sin or a dream. she'll keep it close to her chest, and once in the wild, she'll let it go for you. (your thought will fly away ! how beautiful) there has always been something calming about telling ishtar things, despite her never opening her mouth to do the same. even now, with a few years behind her and a smile that has yet to become sharp, she looks like she could bear the burden of such a confession.
« lemme warn 'im that i'm goin', but i'm buyin' ya a coffee. » a nod, a final punctuation that seems so out of place coming from the girl who prefered her sentences with no end (ellipses everwhere, an open door she always went through when the time seemed right). a nod & yes, she's gone with no further explanations on who the "him" might be. the woman's walking through the crowd like she knows where she's going, and she does, that is the marvelous thing about loving people for real : you pick up the smallest details until you know them by heart. and then you use whatever mess you came up with as a map to guide you home. she finds him not far away from sienna so that if the woman desired, she could look. she'd see ishtar place a hand on his arm, half-tugging until he's leaning forward. creating intimacy in the middle of a crowded room : apparently, a well-rehearsed ritual. a close look and she'd witness the small, amused smile on his lips the second his eyes meet ishtar's, and the way she appears to be talking a bit fast __ like there's no calculation, no hesitation. like she can just let go of the words & offer them to him without caring. and that, surely, must be surprising to anyone who knew the girl & not the woman. even in her most chaotic moments, ishtar is a planner first & foremost. every sentence hits right, for every sentence is part of the game. but these are free, delivered with amused confidence, knowing that if a sentence trips on itself he'll be there to get it back up. knowing that her words are just words, and no ominous prophecies. if anyone else was witnessing the scene, they'd see how ishtar is now laughing, agitating her phone at him with one hand while the other is tugging even more on his sleeve until he's low enough that she can kiss his cheek ... and then she's gone, but not without looking back to wave at him. [ and maybe that is love, too. leaving & taking the time to say goodbye & promising you'll come back. ] + the other person, trusting that you mean it.
her steps bring her back to sienna, giddier than she was minutes prior. « let's go !! i ain't been explorin' a whole lot but i think i saw a café next door. whaddya say ? » raised eyebrow, a question that does sound like one : the interrogation point at the end of it emphasized by the confident smile accompanying it. they are not friends anymore, and ishtar has apparently realized that despite memories keeping them close, there will be no bridge sturdy enough to create the kind of connection they once had. it is not sadness motivating her to follow sienna out of there, it's wonder ; the soft nostalgia of something you wish you had done differently, replaced by the desire to discover what you missed. were she given the chance to go back ... well, she is far too content now to jeopardize it all for a what-if.
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