Lvl. 7 ⋮ Julia // Chapter 1
Stage One: Denial ♪ - Hans Zimmer / No Time for Caution (Part 1) | Arca / Time (Part 2)
TW: addiction, trauma, depression, anxiety, death CW: blood, gore, violent images
PART 1
I imagine the sky tore itself asunder that day.
Perhaps I only felt this at the time because it so closely resembled my own circumstance—in the metaphorical sense, at least. Kalar… my beautiful and brilliant tsanagar. Mind of my mind. Losing that connection… it was like losing a limb. Like being ripped in two with no hope of recovery or return.
It was the final day of Urrali. The Process had breached past the barriers of Essa, and rained terror on its people.
And I was—for the first time in my existence—completely and utterly alone.
The deed was done. Kalar pulled me from their neck, stringing me along a thin, silver chain before placing my medallion form in the palm of their successor. I could see nothing, and heard quite little with fingers clasped tightly around me. Only every other word murmured managed to make its way through. The words were instructions. Guidance. A warning.
“Lead them… Find it… You will… Another life…”
Another life…
Rael, typically so collected, responded to their ima’s calm demands with heightened volume and growing hysteria. Doubts. Fears. Things Rael had lived their long life without—or, at the very least, suppressed—now rushing towards the surface, cracking through their usually composed exterior. They were trained to always remain stalwart, to always be prepared no matter the circumstance.
But certain annihilation… it was far out of even their depths.
Regardless, Kalar still manages to soothe the panicked young warrior. I could practically hear the smile on their face as the velvety words passed their lips, cushioning the anxiety that threatened to tear their child apart. So calm, and yet so assured, even as they looked death in the face… I knew—more than anything—that I’d at least miss the sound of their voice.
“Ellar Kalmonerri.”
The shaky grip tightens around my form. There are no more words left to exchange. No goodbyes or protests. But the sadness still ensnared their heart. And as I was whisked away, resting in the palm of another, I felt that last thread of attachment begin to slip from my grasp… until it broke entirely.
Kalar was gone now. And I would never feel them close to me again.
It was unlike me to be so overwhelmed with… emotions—at least, that’s what I reasoned they were at the time. I wanted to cry out. To scream. To protest. To defy my programming entirely. But my cold, metal shell would not allow me. There was no mental bond through which to express myself. I was left alone in this hollow, cavernous tomb I called a body. And now, as I rested in the palm of one desperate for survival, the sound of heavy panting and boots stomping against ornately carved marble floors in a sprint, my only hope was that a new purpose would await me on the other side of this madness.
There needs to be… there had to be a reason why Kalar let me go, rather than die by their side like all tsanista are destined to do with their tsanagar. Kalar was never one for conventions, sure, but… they were never someone to act without intention either.
We neared the end of our sprint; the sound of pounding footfalls and slashing through whatever forces or obstacles blocking our way quickly ceased, replaced now with more voices. One of them rang through more clearly. It was lighter, sweeter, more familiar than the rest.
“I can’t find my ima… I can’t find them… Rael, my love, please, if we can just go back and look once more—”
“There is no going back,” Rael’s words cut through Iannis’ with the sharpness of a blade. Their lover fell silent, to which the Minister’s child responded with a sigh. Obviously, they meant no harm, but their words carried truth. There was no going back now.
“I need to get you out of here. I need you to be safe. That’s… that’s all that matters now.”
A second hand clasped over my metal form, with the other squeezing back in response. A small gesture of comfort, I presumed. There was a moment of stillness between the two of them. Even without my senses, I could still feel the tension building, and it was wrought with sadness, stress, grief. Only minimally pacified by love.
It wasn’t long until the moment is disrupted by the deafening sound of twisted, tearing metal—loud enough to reverberate the walls around us and tremble the very floors they walked on. The two hands that held me squeezed harder, and soon enough we were sprinting once again. Faster than before, as Rael utilized their blinking to gain some distance, but the noises still grew in volume. Whatever was approaching them—whatever beast had devasted their Empire, their home—only grew closer.
The racket soon filled with voices, an entire crowd of them. Many shouted. Many sobbed. Some pleaded with Rael. Some expressed their frustration—more like anger, or fear—towards the newest leader of their people.
But Rael remained focused on another task: getting Iannis to safety first. It was selfish, sure. But putting their loved ones first—even before the fate of the world—was something Rael would never stop doing.
“I will not leave without you!” Iannis protested, gripping the hand in which I was held with all their might. Rael gripped back. They were reluctant to let go, to relinquish that hand in fear that they’d never hold it again.
“I’m right behind you,” They assured, ending it with a kiss. Possibly their last, but I’m certain Rael repressed such a thought.
Lifting me in their palm, my sight finally returned to me as fingers unfurled from around the orb in my center. Staring down at me was Rael, their gaze wrought with worry, but quickly erased and replaced with assurance as they fitted me around their neck.
“Everyone!” Rael barked, commanding the attention of the large hall of survivors, “We will board the escape pods and take Route 85-5W0382. To Terra.” The young Minister raised her finger and pointed towards the expansive window which wrapped around the entire room, out towards the blackened sky, so blanketed in darkness that not a single star could be seen with the naked eye. Not even the light of Ulteria's six moons could peer its way through. An omen of the nothingness that awaited them.
Rael, still doing their best to remain unshaken in the eyes of their people, held their head high, looking back towards the many eyes that gazed up at them, awaiting their guidance. Their leadership. A role Rael once felt all too unprepared for was finally here, thrust upon them in a moment of crisis. And they had no choice but to accept their new fate.
“Ellar vilmussenda kas xiushini!” Rael shouted into the crowd.
“ELLAR KALMONERRI!” The Camerian people shouted back.
The commotion picked up once more as the survivors prepared for evacuation. Around the crowded room, there were lines being formed at each station, escape pods being prepared and deployed into the inky darkness ahead. Iannis stood close by, hand gripping Rael’s tightly as the fear and nerves began to truly set it. Rael squeezes back before leading them towards the front of a line, steering through the crowd of distressed civilians. There are disgruntled rants and angry shouts as Rael pushes them to the front, but the young Minister ignores it. Instead, they are fully focused on Iannis—their safety, their comfort, and getting them free from this new hell.
“I don’t want to leave without you…” Iannis protested, the sadness read clearly in their eyes and written all over their face. They tugged Rael closer, bringing the Minister’s palm up to rest on their cheek. Rael sighed softly in response, leaning inward until their foreheads touched.
“I’m right behind you,” they assured once more, “We’ll be out of this soon. And then… who knows? Maybe we’ll retire in Nuva. Remember that?” Rael reminded—a callback to an old conversation the two had, one about running off together. One Kalar and I had spied on long ago.
Iannis smiled at that, nodding once before releasing their lover. “Yes. I remember.”
There is a glint of want in both of their eyes—a need to embrace, to kiss, before departing for an indeterminate amount of time. But that moment is instead interrupted by the piercing screech of the approaching threat, which now surrounded them in legions. Many covered their ears, wailing from the pain of the cacophonous sound that rang throughout the hall. Even Rael, who was more upset by being forced to push their lover away and towards the prepared ship than they were the painful ringing in their ears.
“GO!”
There is sorrow in Iannis’ eyes, but they are quick to maneuver themselves inside, power up the pod, and eject themselves into the darkened skies of their old home.
Rael’s eyes stay locked with theirs, never breaking that gaze until the door completely shut and Iannis was gone.
There was no time to lament. Not with so many others that needed saving. That needed their guidance.
They instead turned their attention to the frightened mob, not focusing on the quelling pain in their heart, nor the looming threat that now surrounded them in large tendrils that eclipsed their view of the sky. What was most important now was their escape. Their survival.
But that would never come to pass.
The onyx tendrils, now astounding in their size, crashed their way through the takeoff strip and into the massive hall. Gasps and screeches could be heard all around as many began running from the beast. Some were quick to slice away at the flailing ligaments, only for twice as many to grow back in its place. Others were unlucky in their escape and fell prey to its infectious touch, the inky black veins pressing through their pale skin, their screech halting to a pained, soft wail as they fell unconscious to the floor, their corrupted tsanistas following them into darkness.
Now Rael had the impossible task of both fighting this monster and taming a panicked crowd. It was only a few moments ago that such a responsibility didn’t fall on their shoulders. And now it was as if the weight of the world came crashing down.
Fighting turned out to be a fruitless endeavor, as the tendrils would grow back and fight with more ferocity than it did before. Those who fought alongside her fought too cautiously, in fear of the death that awaited them should it come in contact with their skin.
And then there were those that had escaped, their pods buzzing through the air away from the madness on land. Rael and I could see them more clearly as the tendrils pulled away from the windows, following the others through the newly formed entrance. They could see Iannis’ pod. Rael had memorized every aspect about it, from the colors down to the patterns etched along the sides. Iannis was the furthest out—the closest to safety. The closest to being free from the chaos.
That is, until their pod fell.
It was the oddest thing. It was as if the machine itself just… died. Stopped working right there in the sky. No rhyme or reason for it, nothing that could’ve been predicted—a room full of technopaths would have known if the ship was at risk of failure. But there were no such signs. And still, Iannis began freefalling from the sky, down into the mess of wiry limbs and hellish monsters. Ones that all but consumed and tore apart their pod as they crash landed into the heap.
Iannis was gone.
Rael was still. Very still. Practically catatonic. The reaction was unsettling, but expected given they’d just watch their lover die before their eyes. But I could tell something was off—something was worse. It was as if something snapped inside of Rael at that moment. As if they’d just watch the world—their entire world—implode before them in an instant. And nothing, not a single solitary fucking thing, mattered anymore.
Something was off.
Rael leapt away from the ceiling, where they remained perched and away from the black fronds, and blinked towards the expansive window. There was no reason to go for the ships—they were all destroyed, along with their exit. There was no reason for them to go back for their people—they were dead weight; they’d merely slow them down. All Rael needed to do—all Rael wanted to do—was run. Get away from the madness. The trauma. The anguish. The guilt. The loss that now weighed so heavily on them.
Rael needed to run.
Run.
Run.
There was protest from behind. The people of Camer—Rael’s people—both angered and bewildered by their actions. The way the young Minister slammed their fist against the thick glass, and when that didn’t work formed their tsanista into a large maul. Bang after bang after bang, until that glass cracked.
They kept going. Any attempt to pull them away was met with violent resistance. They kept going, until that crack grew larger, branching out further along the transparent surface. Until it cracked more and more and more, until… it opened.
The dry, cool air against Rael’s face was cathartic. But it was not enough to deter them. Nor were the cry of their people from behind.
Run.
As soon as the glass shattered away, Rael—face covered in tears and sweat and blood—leapt through, down into the abyss that awaited them.
They could see it… Iannis’ smiling face, waiting for them. Calling out to them. They wept more at the thought.
They could see Aesir. Sula. Kalar and Umvis.
They could see their family, waiting for them.
And with a few more tears shed, Rael shut their eyes, and clutched me with all their might. Their tsanista forms around us, and instead of falling into the darkness below, we skyrocketed up. Out into the open sky. Away from the darkness. Away from their love.
Away from their people. The people they were meant to protect. Soon to be devoured by that very darkness.
Maybe some would survive, I thought to myself. Maybe some would find their way through that human-sized hole in the thick glass and fight their way free. Maybe they wouldn’t be consumed by the onyx beast whose tendrils now flooded the entire room, shattering whatever was left of that window.
But all I could see from behind us, as we escaped with nothing but our lives and the tears falling from Rael’s wide eyes, was death.
I don’t think Rael remembers any of this. There was no mention of it again once we made it to Earth. Not remorse, nor anger or grief. Not even acceptance. Even indifference I could take.
But there was nothing. Nothing at all. As if repressed. Buried. Forgotten.
I don’t think Rael remembers any of this…
I think I’d like to forget it too.
PART 2
February 12th, 2020. 02:30 PM.
I spent several years in therapy as a kid. A part of my prescribed treatment for ADHD and anxiety. I always thought that after it ended things would go back to normal. That I’d be fine. That I’d never have to sit across the room from another shrink again.
And yet here I was, in another pristine, white-walled room, rapidly shaking my leg up and down as I focused more on the sound of the ticking clock than the words coming out of my therapist’s mouth. It wasn’t like it was anything I hadn’t heard before. Another potential update on my medication (increasing my dosage for antidepressants, unsurprisingly), alongside another long monologue on how to deal with “stressful situations…”
What classified as “stressful” in her mind, I wonder? Could it even mildly compare to anything I’d been through over the past two years?
Let’s go down the list…
Vehement harassment, both online and off. Multiple stalkers, one of which assaulted me in my home, and another who shot my girlfriend. Abducted twice. Drugged. Several near-death experiences. Traumatizing “dreams” so vivid it feels like I’m actually living through them. And of course, we can’t forget, stumbling across the remains of my dead relatives after narrowly escaping the entities that destroyed my mother’s entire race. I still have yet to truly unpack the effect that had on my psyche.
Stressful situations…
And this isn’t including the mess I was tangled in now. Most Wanted in Ulteria’s biggest metropolis. Manufacturing weapons for an underground vigilante group. Trying to save the life of my mom’s kidnapped ex-lover, who’s fate was still up in the air. Picking up the pieces of my fumbled career. All while dealing with this newfound pressure to act like everything is fine and none of this is going on…
Not to mention, I made a man explode a couple of months ago…
There’s only so much one person can take. And that threshold is lower for someone who’s mental health is already on the brink.
I was at my limit…
And yet, I still felt like I couldn’t say anything. I couldn’t express just how overwhelmed and helpless I was feeling. Even here, a place that was meant precisely for all of that. I was just… frozen. Because who would understand? Who could I burden with any of this? And did I want to burden them? Just to be met with the same disregard? The same spiel about how everyone’s gone through hardships, but they only make us “stronger” people in the end, and that I’m “strong” just for surviving?
…What’s the point of survival if there’s hardly any of me left?
“…Takajima-san? Did you hear me?”
I blinked several times, my head shooting up to face the therapist after breaking out of my trance.
How long had I spaced out for…?
“Mm… I’m sorry…?”
Dr. Ogiwara only blinked twice at me in response, letting out a long sigh as she adjusted her glasses, though her soft smile never left her face. It was almost… disquieting. Her calmness. How at ease she could be even when my life was in disarray. Even when I was being the shittiest patient imaginable, not taking my treatment seriously at all.
“Takajima-san… you need to know that this?” She gestured between herself and me, “Only works if you want it to.”
She uncrossed her legs, resting her journal on her lap as she straightened. Her expression was serious suddenly. Intense. Her gaze was fixated on my own. I responded with tension, eyebrows knitting together slightly as the shaking in my leg suddenly ceased, unable to break eye contact with her.
“You’re constantly late or cancelling sessions. And when you’re here you don’t listen. You hardly ever speak either. Never disclosing too much, omitting details, avoiding difficult conversations… how can I help if you refuse to be open?”
I winced, finally breaking away from her locked-on gaze. The bounce in my leg returned once more, and I bit my lip, staring at my lap being unsure of how to answer. The accusation wasn’t wrong. Far from it. But I wasn’t ready to admit that.
“These sessions aren’t meant to turn into long lectures, Miu. We need to develop healthy coping mechanisms for you. That sort of progress only comes from work, and that can’t be one-sided. I believe in your ability to get better, but you need to believe that too.”
I nodded once, still wordless in my responses. Still focusing on the sound of the ticking clock. I didn’t need to see her face to feel the disappointment radiating off of her and in my direction.
“Our time is up for today. Would you like to meet the same time next week?”
“…Raincheck.” I murmured softly, finally looking up to meet her eyes. Another disappointed look coupled with a single nod. Wordlessly, I gathered my things, giving a polite bow and muttering a quick “thanks” before hurrying out of the room and back onto the street.
I don’t know if I’m capable of changing. I want to be—I desperately want to be. But I’ve had my guard up for so long that breaking them down feels near impossible. It’s hard. It’s scary. It’s…
It’s easier to bury things… or at least, it was easier.
I don’t know if that’s true anymore.
March 1st, 2020. 03:00 AM.
I like distractions. Meaningless, in-the-moment distractions. The more temporarily gratifying, the better. But with how much chaos has entered my life as of recent, I hardly have time for any. No parties. Fewer dates. Hardly any sleep, with me sneaking away in the dead of night to do… this. This work I’ve sworn myself to. Laboring over workbenches cluttered with deconstructed gadgets and half-finished bionics—one of which we were finalizing today.
We had yet another installation to proceed with.
“Xh’ilussen nhxini!” The burly Nuvassi man spat at Vhiska—the young workshop hand—as she continued adjusting the tourniquet around his arm. She matched his scowl with one of her own before securing the device around his bulky bicep and returning to monitoring the readings panning across the tablet screen—an array of numbers and Talurian script as the last of the prosthetic arm’s programming was being installed.
In comparison to V, my approach was far gentler. I offered a soft smile once I noticed the young engineer was preoccupied, inquiring whether the harness was too tight in whatever broken Nuvassi Talurian I knew and adjusting it accordingly. My conversational skills weren’t top tier, but I could still piece together sentences, and I understood enough that small talk didn’t come too hard once he began carrying the conversation. Despite his more taciturn demeanor upon our first meeting, the older gentleman—Vhando, he said his name was—had a surprising amount of information to share. He was originally from the Southern Protectorates. His parents worked as mail carriers, running an independent business that primarily serviced lower income families. Most courier companies were self-reliant at the time. That is, until the Xhinith Corporation began buying out those businesses. One by one, they gathered under a single umbrella. A single conglomerate. Nearly the entire industry in the Protectorates had been monopolized. But his parents didn’t comply.
“They died in a fire…” he said in his rough dialect, sighing as he massaged his stubbled beard, “In our warehouse. A spontaneous one, or so we thought. They… they was thinkin’ they could save the cargo, but… it was too widespread.” He paused, shaking his head. “To this day, I think it’s the most foolish thing they ever done… valuin’ packages over their own lives. And leaving a boy…”
He stopped there, and I frowned. “You don’t have to keep goi—”
“I moved to Gan’em after that,” he continued, “Started working as a scrapper, peelin’ n’ sellin’ whatever parts I could. Until I ran into your bunch of… damn huviarr’xi.” He snickered, his disposition suddenly jovial as he gave a sly wink in Sai’s direction, who replied with a role of his eyes. I mimicked Sai, coupled with a shake of my head as I flickered a glance between the two of them. I continued to draw a band of short, black lines along Vhando’s bicep, not bothering to interrupt their bickering.
It was interesting seeing not just Sai, but the entire team in such a relaxed state. Things were always so serious up until now, with working on gathering supplies, securing connections, and fortifying our little hideout. But now that things were coming together, the team seemed more… at ease. Like they felt safe—right where they wanted to be. I envied that. But at least what I was doing would serve a purpose. I was doing good, helping to fight against oppression. And I was saving the life of someone important to my mother.
At least… I hope.
“Looks like we’re ready to go.” Vhiska turned to me and nodded once, the mechanical prosthetic in her hands. I finished up drawing the dotted lines on Vhando’s arm and walked away from him with a smile, rolling my eyes as the banter between him and Sai continued.
“Everything… looks good…” My eyes scanned over the code on the screen and the cybernetic arm, checking for any discrepancies. I knew there would be none—I designed it after all—but I was stalling. The next part was… gruesome. Installation always was. Usually, I could stomach it until the end, but today… the arm. I don’t know what it is about it, but the very thought caused my stomach to churn violently. With every passing second, I could feel the small beads of sweat form on my already pale face.
{ I don’t think I can do this… }
[ How come? ]
{ I just can’t. }
[ Then express so. I don’t understand why this upsets you so deeply… you’ve done such an operation a dozen times by now. Literally—I have kept count. ]
{ Yeah, but… just not today. I— }
“Miu!” V interjected; an impatient expression was worn on her face. “Is it done? Vhando’s got a locale to hit tomorrow, we gotta have this done—”
“I’m fine.” I responded quickly—a little too quickly. “It’s done. Let’s, um… let’s get this over with.”
[ Are you sure? ]
{ Yeah. I’m fine. It’s just a cold or something, I guess. I can get through this. }
[ Your heart rate and temperature are abnormally high… but with your Camerian biology, human illnesses should not— ]
{ I said I’m fine. } I cut them off. And that was the end of it.
Sai prepared the saw. Vhando extended his arm along the rest while Vhiska prepared the anesthetic, but as soon as the needle came close to his skin, Vhando’s hand quickly reached out to catch V’s wrist, stopping her in her tracks. She looked up at him, confused and shocked.
“Waste of time.” He shook his head. “I’m a big boy. Ion’ need it.”
We all exchanged looks of horror—all except for Sai, who seemed unbelievably calm given the circumstances.
“Maybe you should reconsider,” I piped up, “This isn’t like… being shot or stabbed, this is—”
“I know what it is,” Vhando retorted, his face turned stony. The serious expression is broken slowly, as one side of his lips twitched into a small smirk. “I don’t need it.”
I gulped. Hard. Vhiska still glared at him, worry written all over her face. Sai, still unphased, began lining up the saw.
My hands were shaking now. Every inch of me would be if I hadn’t been trying my absolute hardest to not move an inch.
[ Perhaps you shouldn’t do this… ]
{ I… I… }
I can do this… I can do this…
I can’t.
Like I said. Installation was always gruesome.
As soon as the saw’s loud humming began to fill the room, Sai pulled down with all his might. It was a clean cut, quick and without complication. The only sound filling the room after was Vhando’s cries—a mixture of painful wailing and unsettling laughter—all while Vhiska rushed to hold him down.
It was my turn now. All I needed to do was walk up and attach the new limb… but I couldn’t. I was frozen in place, clutching the arm in my hands, the gears and apparatuses whirring and whizzing as my powers took over, disrupting the device. The shaking that started in my hands now coursed through every muscle of my body. And my breathing, it quickened faster than my heartbeat did.
I was losing control, little by little. Like a disrupted machine, coding and mechanism all jumbled and fried. But all I could do was stare at that arm on the floor, violet blood pooling out of the severed end and spreading across the reflective metal floor.
Vhando’s arm.
No… Pixul’s arm.
Or is it Vhando’s… Pixul’s…
It was hard to differentiate reality from the nightmare inside my head at that moment. I couldn’t hear Vhiska shouting at me, I couldn’t feel Sai shaking me, or Red’s low vibration against my chest. I couldn’t see Vhando lying unconscious on that exam table. I couldn’t see anything… except that arm.
Pixul’s arm. I was convinced now.
And Pixul lying right next to it, clutching the stab wound in her stomach, blood coating the floors.
There was blood dripping on her head. Slowly. Drip, drip, drip… but from where?
I lifted my head even more slowly, trembling as my eyes looked towards the ceiling. Right at the source of that dripping liquid. And my eyes widened at the sight.
It was Iannis, hanging hog-tied from their ankles. Beaten bloody and slashed open. Mutilated, eviscerated, but alive. And trembling more than I was.
“Save me…” they whimpered. “Save… me…”
Now I couldn’t breathe at all.
Suddenly, the prosthetic is wrenched away from my grasp. The vision blurs, then slowly disappears. No more Iannis. No more Pixul. Her arm was gone too, and in its place was Vhando’s. all I could see now was Vhiska rushing to attach the device. All I could feel was Sai’s hands gripping me as he carried me away from the scene and out the room, the sliding door quick the shut behind us.
I’m rushed up the stairs and out of the hideout. The sidewalks were empty—unsurprising at this time of night. The cool air offered some small comfort against my now pale, clammy skin.
“Miu. Breathe,” Sai urged, still maintaining his calm demeanor from before. I was always in awe of just how collected he was. Even through things like this—the illegal trading, the limb chopping, the blood, the violent excursions, the theft, the murder… everything. Through everything, he remained so… serene. I envied him for it.
Eventually my quickened breaths had steadied to a normal rate, no longer in a state of panic. Embarrassed, I pulled away from him, crossing my arms and averting my gaze downward.
“Thanks…” I mumbled, still refusing to meet his gaze. He didn’t respond, however. He only watched in silence. Just for a moment, though.
“Earth treats,” He broke the tension, and I shot my head up to look at him with a quirked brow.
“You promised me some—what’s it called… ice cream?”
I sighed, uncrossing my arms and softening my expression. A small smile returned my face as I finally caught on. He was giving me just what I needed.
Distractions.
March 1st, 2020. 03:44 AM.
There weren’t many ice cream shoppes open at this time of night. Luckily, 7/11 was open 24 hours a day.
I went in alone, grabbing a few pints of ice cream from the freezer—chocolate, cookies n’ crème, matcha, and classic vanilla. There was no way of knowing what Sai’s favorite flavor might be—they don’t really have ice cream where he’s from, after all—so having a few options to work from would be both beneficial for the future, and interesting to observe his reaction when trying the cold dessert for the first time.
I brought the ice cream out to the rooftop of the conbini, being sure that no one was watching before flying up to meet with Sai. I kept the cookies n’ crème for myself, and slid the other three flavors his way. Sitting down, we clinked spoons and dug in.
He hated the matcha. The chocolate he didn’t mind, but I could tell it wasn’t his favorite. I started on my own serving, watching carefully while he tried the final pint of vanilla.
And he adored it.
“Really?!” I eyed him with a shocked expression, “Of all the choices… Well, you can never go wrong with plain old vanilla, I guess.” I shook my head and giggled.
“Is this not a popular choice or something?” He raised a brow towards me, a puzzled look painted on his face.
“Well… it’s just not the most exciting choice, y’know? Vanilla’s nice, but… not the most fun flavor. It’s too plain! Boring! Dull!”
He huffed a dry laugh, shoveling another large scoop into his mouth. “There’s nothing dull about this.” He raised another spoonful towards me in toast before wolfing it down. All I could do was role my eyes and smile.
I hadn’t finished much of my ice cream, only digging into it with my spoon, staring at the specs of chocolate swirled inside. It’s funny; sweets tend to be the thing that always cheered me up, that pulled me away from whatever negative thoughts or feelings ran through my head. I owed that in part to Nami, whose almost addictive love for ice cream I always found endearing. But now was different, and maybe it was because I wasn’t with her. Maybe it was because, instead, Sai was here. Sai. A living representation of all the shit I’ve gotten myself into the past few months. And now my “happy place” wasn’t as effective. Those thoughts still clouded my mind, and I had no way of flushing them out. Eventually, I was gonna drown in them.
“You’re quiet.” Sai broke me away from my thoughts. I shot up to look at him, mouth opening and shutting when the words failed to come out.
“I…umm…” I fell silent again, averting my gaze when I realized I didn’t have an answer. Or at least, I didn’t want to answer. Not honestly, anyway.
“I’m just, y’know… it’s been a long day? Lots of… data proofing and coding and fine tuning and… Just a lot to deal with, yeah? I’m just tired. I’ll be fine. We all have to be eventually.” I finally wolfed down a scoop of ice cream, then looked up to smile at him. His expression was unchanged.
“Uh huh.” He stated, unconvinced. “And what happened down there, that was just you being tired?”
My smile faded, and I stared down at my unfinished ice cream again. My hands were trembling again, thinking about the vision I saw. Was it a vision? A hallucination? How long could I expect my mind to play tricks on me like that…
“It was…” I tried my best to answer, gripping the pint more tightly in hopes it would somehow cease my shaking. It didn’t.
“I don’t know what it was,” I answered finally with a loud sigh, “I think maybe I’m just stressed? With everything going on, I’m just… not used to it? But I don’t know why it happened. Every other installation went fine, but this one… I wasn’t ready for it. How was I supposed to know he wouldn’t take the anesthetic—which we should have given him anyway, by the way. And to see all the blood, and the way her arm lob off so easily like that—”
“Her?” He raised a brow to that, and I fell silent. Stiff. Not realizing my mistake until it was too late.
“U-uhh, his. His arm. Sorry…”
I stared long and hard into that ice cream now. But I could hear Sai’s heavy sigh. I could hear him shuffling as he moved closer to me, resting a hand on my shoulder while his second pair of arms held his ice cream in place.
“I get it. Okay? I’m… I’m not a stranger to that happening. It’s happened to me too.”
There wasn’t anything I could say. I just remained there, unmoving. Listening.
“I just say this because… I know our line of work is… unique. There aren’t a lot of people who understand what we go through. But you’re not alone in this. And I won’t force you to talk about it or confront whatever you’re feeling now. But if you need anything—anything at all… just ask. I got your back.”
We sat there in silence for some time as I let his words sink in. I wanted to say something—anything. To pour out all of my thoughts and feelings. My anxieties, my fears. I wanted to vent about all the things that have been tormenting me. But just like in the shrink’s office, the words never came. Faltering as soon as they formed in my mind.
Instead, I shifted the topic away from me.
“Is Vhando gonna be okay?” I asked softly.
“He should be, yes… you don’t have to worry about that,” Sai smiled, butting his shoulder with mine, “It takes a lot more than a missing arm to kill us. Talurian blood, and all…”
A lot more than a missing arm… a lot more…
“Do you… do you think Pixul’s still alive?” I asked, my voice cracking as I turned to face him. His smile was gone now, replaced with the serious expression I was used to.
“I… I don’t know. Things have been… silent,” he responded after a while, “Either way, we shouldn’t concern ourselves with it now—”
“Shouldn’t concern ourselves?!” My voice raised as I shifted my entire body to face him, knocking my pint of ice cream on its side as I sat it down roughly. “We literally stabbed her in the back and then chopped her arm off! We destroyed her entire club! Her whole operation! Her entire way of life. And to top it all off, robbed her of her weapons vault right after!! If I were her, I’d want our heads on a fucking stake! We can’t afford to ‘not concern ourselves’ when it’s our lives on the line!”
“Miu—” His voice was quiet, but stern—very stern. “Calm. Down.”
“Don’t tell me to calm down… I will NOT calm down!” I shot back, “I will NOT—”
“MIU!” He raised his voice finally, glaring right at me as he cut me off. “Lower you damn voice! Now listen… We’ve been doing this for months now. If Pixul was gonna make a move, she would’ve done so by now. So she’s either dead or she doesn’t care. Besides, our HQ is secured and untraceable thanks to Vhiska, and on top of that I’m pretty sure we’ve got the numbers now to take on whatever threat may come our way. She wouldn’t even have the resources to come find us considering how much she’s lost. Either way, it isn’t our problem anymore.”
I still didn’t believe him, but I wasn’t in the mood for arguing either—hell, I was hardly in the mood for ice cream anymore. I didn’t have the energy for it. I was just so… so…
Suddenly the tears began streaming down my face, and the sob I’d been choking back finally broke free. Frantically, I started wiping away tears as they fell, only for more to emerge and replace them. I hid my tear-soaked face in my palms as Sai looked on, surprised by my sudden unraveling.
“I’m so tired…” I whimpered; my voice muffled by the hands that still hid my messy face. “I’m so fucking exhausted… aren’t you tired of all this??”
Sai said nothing this time. Only watched as I continued in my sudden fit.
I was able to collect myself again after a while, face wet with tears and puffy from crying. We both sat in complete silence for what felt like an eternity, the quiet only ever broken by the occasional sniffle.
So much for distractions.
I don’t’ remember the last time I felt genuinely at peace with everything in my life. It seems as though recent years have been a series of small glints of happiness, later to be marred with chaotic situations I could’ve never imagined myself in, that I somehow always stumbled into despite never trying to.
Stressful situations.
But what’s the point in wallowing in it now, right? I was here. It was my choices that got me here, and now I had to deal with it. But that was easier said than done, and my old methods of “dealing with” situations out of my control were to simply not deal with them. To fill my day and my head with whatever I found gratifying in the moment. And that wasn’t working anymore. Not my hobbies, or my job, or my friends… As much as I loved all those things, none of it was helping. Because deep down, I was still hiding this double life from everyone. Holding all my feelings too close to the chest. And now here I was, vying desperately for peace of mind, but it was too late for that now. I was still racked with anxiety more severe than I’ve felt in years with no sign of release.
I just wanted a break from it all. But there seemed to be none in sight.
Unless…
No… no. It was stupid. Reckless. Perhaps the most reckless thought to ever cross my head.
And yet… it couldn’t be any more stupid than the decisions I’ve made in the past. And more than anything, I just wanted… I wanted to feel like myself again. Like Miu again. Or at least, the Miu everyone loves. The Miu that’s easier for me to love.
I just needed a little more help with that.
Sai exhaled softly, his breath forming a fleeting, misty cloud in the cold night air. “We should, um… we should head back soon—”
“Can you do something for me?” I interrupted with the inquiry, shifting so that my whole body faced him now, eyes locked with his and filled with intent.
He raised a brow at me, “Sure… yeah? If it’s within my capabilities I can try…”
“You… you said you’d do anything for me right? Anything at all? I just need to ask?”
His eyes narrowed at me, “What are you getting at here?”
My jaw clenched, the courage to ask for this was still building up within me. I stared down at my hands. Did I really want to do this? Was it worth it? Was there not a better way?
I’m sure there was… but it wouldn’t be the easier way.
And that’s what made it worth it.
“I need…” I lift my head, looking Sai straight in his eye with all the confidence I could muster in that moment.
“I need you to get me something.”
August 25th, 2020. 7:15 AM.
My brother had a gambling addiction years ago. I remember vividly the effect it had on him. The compulsive spending, the borrowed money that somehow vanishing overnight, the constant disappearing acts (which never got better once he stepped into his… new profession). But more than anything, I remember how it warped his perception of the world around him. How it changed him, from his morals to the way we treated his family. The way he treated me.
But at the same time, I understand what got him there, what pushed him into making that choice. It was the thrill of it, a danger you felt somehow in control of. That’s the high-risk-high-reward aspect of it, right? No matter how bad it was, no matter how further down that rabbit hole he fell, he couldn’t let go.
It was easy, I imagine, to get addicted to that sort of euphoria.
But that wasn’t me. No… this wasn’t an over-indulgence by any means. This was self-medicating, which was completely different from what Mitsuo went through. This would be different. I would be different.
Though Sai wasn’t convinced of that initially.
“Mhiconnia?! Really, Miu?!” he protested, “Do you REALLY think that’s the best idea? Like, do you understand what that shit does?? It doesn’t help you the way you’re thinking it will! It will fuck you up.”
“That’s only if you use a lot,” I countered, keeping my voice as calm as I could manage, “Maybe if I just have a little bit at a time—and only when I absolutely need it, of course—I can… I dunno… get back to myself? I won’t, like, abuse it or anything, I promise! I just… I need something to help. Something faster than… what I’m doing now. Whatever that is...”
He shook his head, huffing a dry laugh as he crossed both pairs of arms and began pacing back and forth on the roof. I’d never seen him this angry before. All I could think of while watching him was the face of my third-grade teacher, the time it turned bright red with anger after my friend and I conspired to free our class pet Randy the Turtle. I thought I was doing the right thing in that moment, but the reaction of my superiors, and the indignation on my own mother’s face, painted a different picture; it didn’t match with my reasoning, my reality. And much like my mother, Sai wasn’t having any of it.
But I still tried to reason. Because like with Randy the Turtle, I still felt that I was right. That there was no harm in what I was doing. That my reasoning made sense.
The argument ended there, however. Sai leapt from rooftop to rooftop until disappearing into the night, leaving me with a pile of melted ice cream.
I didn’t see him for a week after that. I spent an entire week regretting everything I said, reevaluating my thought process. The self-loathing burrowed itself deep in my psyche the longer I was left to ponder. Had it been a day longer, maybe it would have devoured me. Maybe I would’ve changed my mind completely, realizing the error in my self-destructive ways and fall victim to the depressive episodes and regular therapy visits. Just one day was all it would’ve taken. One more day…
But Sai came sooner. He had a small vial in his hands and look of disappointed buried deep in his eyes.
“Just. A little.” He repeated my words from the other night. All I could do was nod. And that was the end of it.
At least, it would do for the moment.
And holy fuck, did it work better than expected.
The vial was more than enough, actually. I never took more than I needed—not nearly the amount that Pixul dosed me with during our first encounter. A small dab was enough, sometimes worn on the eyelids or the apples of my cheeks in a way that resembled makeup. Just a small amount to get me through the day. A little more for the more stressful days. And some more when the panic attacks return…
And when I ran out, I asked Sai for more.
I was more than back to myself again. I was… more present in a way. More focused. More productive. Friendlier, bubblier, more excitable. I was back to myself again. The Miu everyone loved, and the Miu I loved to be. I could enjoy my life again, which only cemented in my mind that this was exactly what I needed.
And when I ran out, I asked for more. And more. And more…
It was hard to tell if the vials were getting smaller or the amount in each one lesser, because each delivery seemed to go quicker than the last. Frustration set in when the wait for more seemed to lengthen. Even while everything seemed to be looking up for me—from living with my girlfriend, to my career finding resurgence, to even starting my own business—I was still… fixated. Obsessed with maintaining a happiness I thought seemed unattainable without that magical dust. Fear, a deep-seated fear, that my sadness, loathing, and isolation would come creeping back. That it would come and take everything away from me.
I’m not dependent, I would tell myself. I’m not addicted. I’ll be fine even after this…
But was there an 'after’? Would there ever be? And what did that look like exactly?
Best not to dwell…
It’s been months since that talk on the roof. Months of using Storm’s Tears. Months since Sai and I had a conversation that was longer than three words wasn’t about just work. Months since even Red and I had a heart-to-heart, or any sort of conversation, really…
Months since I last talked to my family.
It seems as though, in an effort to get better, to feel like myself again, I’ve only lost even more. I was starting to wonder if all of this was worth it. Not just the drugs, mind you, but everything—Vitriol, Iannis, Kalar… would any of it amount to anything? There’s been no sign of my mom’s ex-lover since Sai and I escaped that night. And beyond that, any memory that seems to resurface through Red feels like more of a riddle than the last. What was I doing anymore? What was I searching for? What was the purpose? What is—
Too much thinking, I thought. I needed some more. Just to pull myself out of the haze.
It was only a little. Spreading it gently across the eyelids with my ring finger, another smear against my lips. I inhaled once. Exhaled. The thoughts flowed out of me like a tidal wave, being replaced with a sea of bliss. Sweet thoughts. Happy thoughts.
I was fine. We’re all fine. We’re figure it out as we go.
KNOCK. KNOCK.
The sound at the door shook me out my musing. I jolted from my seat at the vanity and rushed to the living room. It was odd—Nami was out with dogs today, taking them on walks and running other errands, so I wasn’t expecting her back so soon. And if it was her, she would’ve just walked right in. Unless her hands were full, that is. Or it could be a friend, here on a surprise visit. Either outcome would have made since, would have been expected.
But what I was not expecting was this.
“…Mom?!” I exclaimed while answering the door.
“Yes.” Julia stated coolly, standing like a statue in the doorway, their icy, stoic glare piercing a hole straight through my skull. Immediately, they breezed past me, and I nearly stumbled over as I rushed out of the way.
“You haven’t called home in quite a while. The last we heard from you was when you told us about your move.” They walked around the room, carefully inspecting every angle of the apartment from floor to ceiling. “Nice place. Where’s that lover of yours?”
“U-uhh—out! She’s out right now…” I blinked trying to maintain my composure, though that was hard. What on earth were they doing here? And unannounced like that? My head was spinning, the shock and confusion trying so hard to cut its way through the sanguine state brought about by the psychoactive drug. Under normal circumstances, that bewilderment would’ve taken over, invading every facet of my senses. But right now, the Storm’s Tears wouldn’t allow for that. Instead, I was too focused on how happy I was to see them, and how nice they looked in their dingy, grey trench coat, and how pretty their hair was, and how—
“Huh.” Their voice interjected, cutting off my train of thought. They began moving into the kitchen, and I quickly followed after. “A shame. I would love to meet them. One of these days. When you decide we’re all worth speaking to again.”
I opened my mouth to say something—a rebuttal, an excuse, anything to clear my name—but quickly shut it once I realized I had nothing of value to say. Nothing to defend myself with. I felt bad—horrible, even. But even now, I was unsure what sort of reaction the truth would garner me. Would it be the genuine concern any mother would have for their self-destructive child, or would it be pure, unbridled fury?
I’m almost certain it’s the last one. It’d be the one I’d deserve anyway.
Their fingers glided across the granite countertops before stopping, leaning against the surface as they eyed me keenly. What were they looking for, I wonder? The truth in my eyes? The guilt? A sign a weakness? It was all there, albeit hidden under and wave of euphoria, but could they still sense it?
The tension… you could cut it with a knife.
Time to lighten the mood, maybe…?
“Stick around and maybe you might!” I laughed—maybe a little too loud—then shrugged playfully as I stumbled into one of the kitchen island chairs. “It’s good that you’re here then, right?! The universe is… is bringing us together! Obaachan always used to say things happen for a reason. Aaand, uhhhhh, this…! Is the reason! You’re welcome.”
Excellent job, I could imagine Red shooting out the sarcasm-drenched words in my head. And they would’ve been more than fair in doing so.
I cupped my face with my hands and stared back into those intense eyes, and the second I did something… shifted. There was a clear change in their demeanor—a darkness that entered their expression. My ima’s eyes began to narrow as they examined me further, the tensing of their jaw ceasing altogether.
Now I was starting to feel unnerved.
“Are you drunk?”
“Wh-what?” I stammered, caught off guard by the question. “N-no… no! No, I am not.”
They straightened and began slowly circling around the island, closing the gap between us. My smile disappeared, and once they were close enough, they leaned in, keeping their voice low. Though that didn’t stop their words from cutting like steel.
“Are you high, Cira?”
I gulped. Loudly.
I hated that name. Not for the reason many would think, mind you—it wasn’t archaic-sounding or harsh on the ears or anything like that. It was a nice name. I hated it because my mother only ever used that name when I was in trouble—deep trouble. It was an easy way of telling just exactly where I landed on the scale of pissing-them-the-fuck-off.
And right now, that scale was reading pretty damn high.
“U-uh, I, uhh…” I floundered with my words again, unable to answer—not truthfully, anyway. But I was definitely in no position to lie convincingly either.
“N-nooo…noooooo. I don’t, umm, do that. Like, ever.” I lied, letting out a soft, nervous laugh as I awkwardly crossed my arms. They remained still, and unconvinced.
“Are you high, Cira?” They asked again.
They could see me folding into myself as they pressed further, and this time they didn’t give me a chance to answer. Instead, they grabbed my face roughly with one hand, the iciness in their piercing white eyes growing colder, threatening to freeze me in place. I was struck with the realization that they knew exactly what was going on.
Then, the words I never wanted to hear left their lips.
“What the fuck is on your face?”
I was petrified. It was as if I lost all ability to formulate a single word or line of thought in that moment.
Too late to lie now…
My mother released my face, rushing out of the kitchen and towards the bathroom. I quickly hopped from my seat and scurried behind my ima, only to find them rummaging through the drawers and pill cabinet. They took out several pill bottles—most vitamins, some painkillers, prescribed medication—and began tossing them at me.
“Where is it? Huh? Can’t be these—” They put a few bottles back, while the thrown ones would hit either me or the wall as they clamored to the floor. I stood there silently, just watching them.
“Where is it? Speak up.” Their voice rose in volume, their tone getting harsher with each passing word, mixing English with their native Camerata. “You didn’t have a problem lying before, why so quiet now?”
I’d wince in response to the shouting, fumbling with my fingers behind my back. It was as if I’d lost all ability to communicate properly. Incapable of neither explanation nor defense. All I could do was take it—stand there as they marched from room to room, rummaging through drawers and beneath blankets and pillows and an onslaught of dog toys in silent fury.
They eventually did find it, however. All without my help. As they entered the bedroom, their eyes landed on it: the small vial of shimmering dust, sitting on the vanity amidst a number of lipsticks and eyeliner pens. Stupid of me to leave it out, and in such an obvious place too. They lifted it with their hands, slowly twisting it between their fingers. Then they turned to me.
“Where the fuck did you get this?”
I couldn’t stay silent anymore, not while they were this angry. And I couldn’t lie either. Not now. Because as I watched my mother hold that vial in their hands, I realized that it wasn’t just the drugs that were the problem. No… it was where they came from. The place of origin. The source of their—no, our—trauma.
“S-so, umm…” I mumbled, fumbling with my words, “A-a lot happened recently that I haven’t been… fully honest about—”
“No shit.” They cut me off again, “Where. Did you. Get. This?”
They approached me, holding the Storm’s Tears to my face. I stood there trembling slightly, trying to avoid eye contact as the guilt washed over me in waves. They knew the answer to their question. They just wanted to hear me say it.
“…I went to Nuva—but wait, hear me out okay? There’s more to it than you think—”
“How?!” They shouted, and my eyes shot immediately to the ground, hands clasped together and held against my chest. It was so easy for them to make me feel so small. Like a child hanging their head as their parent scolds them.
“I, umm… I met a girl… named Pixul.” I looked up to meet their glare now, “She was, uhh… from Gan’em, I think she said? She was able to find me through my… last venture to… you know…”
They pulled away and sighed heavily, pacing angrily back and forth. They were trying to make sense of all of this, how their own child had come so close in contact to the one place they’ve spent their life running from. And how that same child is now somehow involved in the worst it has to offer.
If only they knew just how bad it really was…
I squirmed where I stood, the words leaving me as a squeak. “L-look, I’m—”
“Do you know how much danger you’ve put yourself in? How much danger we could ALL be in? Because of you?!” They were shaking with anger as the shouted, the force of their words strong enough to back me against the wall. “And now this… you’re hooked onto this shit? Do you know what this does? It will fucking kill you! That’s if the cretins that gave you this don’t kill you first!”
They were right… everything they were saying… was right.
Sadness, shame, and anger churned within me like a dark cloud as their words cut into me. It swelled and boiled and spilled over the surface in a caustic brew. And all I could do—all I could muster—was uncontrollable weeping.
The tears fell instantly, overflowing as loud sobbing began to fill the room. I sunk to the floor, back still against the wall as I hid my dampened face behind my hands. The pain, the inner conflict, the frustration and turmoil I kept so tightly bottled inside was now overwhelming, and pouring out right there, on the floor of my bedroom. Right in front of my mom, who’s visceral anger was now replaced with shock, guilt, and deep-seated concern.
Julia softened their features, sighing as they set the vial down on the vanity and kneeled down to my level.
“Miu, I—”
“I DIDN’T WANT TO, OKAY?!” I blurted out, uncovering my puffy, wet face to glare at them. “They came for me, okay? And the only reason I went was because I needed answers about these horrible dreams I keep having. Dreams of all the awful things that your ima did.”
They flinched at the sudden shift in energy, at the accusatory finger I pointed in their direction. Realizing my anger was getting the best of me, I folded into myself more, averting my eyes.
“I needed answers… Red and I did. Because Red didn’t know anything. I thought I’d get something, anything, if I went… even if it was little.” My voice cracked, and the tears began to flow again. “But all I got was thrown into the thick of all the crime and violence of that fucking city and I’m all fucked up now because of it. And I can’t even get out of it if I wanted to… I can’t leave any of this behind. So yeah. I use it because it helps. It’s a distraction—a temporary one, sure, but it’s… it’s all I’ve got.”
Julia’s frown deepened. They were sitting now, legs crossed as they listened.
“I… see…” they began, “Why is it that you can’t leave? And why… why didn’t you come to me? Why didn’t you trust me?” They held up the vial again. “Because this? This isn’t going to help you the way you think it will. But I can.”
The tension returned in my body. I felt every muscle lock in place at the questions, knowing the answer to both was the same.
“Miu.” Their voice turned stern. “Talk to me.”
“I… I…” I swallowed hard. The words were there, stuck in the back of my throat, and I was fighting to keep them there. To keep it back and away. To hold onto like I have been for so long. It was like I was comfortable here. So used to this pain that the thought of sharing it with someone else felt foreign—felt scary.
I can’t…
[ Miu. ]
I’m so tired…
[ Miu. It’s time. ] Red spoke again. [ Enough of this. ]
I can’t… I can’t…
I have to.
“I met someone.” I said finally. “Someone who… who knows you.”
Julia’s eyes furrowed, their face tense as the shock hit them.
“Who…?” Their voice was lower, softer, than I was used to hearing. I knew this was going to hurt them.
Enough of this…
I sat up, letting the knees I held close to my chest fall. I took a breath—inhale, then exhale.
Then I said it.
“Their name is Iannis.”
Silence.
Still.
That’s the best way I could describe my mother in that moment. Still—completely still. As if made of stone. The expression remained fixed, the muscles locked in place, as the realization settled into them that Iannis—the long-lost lover they thought dead for so many years—was indeed alive.
“I… I went back to save them, but… they were gone. Pixul took them away before I could get to them. But now I’m working with this guy, he says he’ll help me find them. He… he thinks Iannis may be in Vano.”
Their eyes began moving rapidly now, flickering in every which direction as their breath became tapered. Slowly, I began to realize they were trembling. It was a sight I was familiar with—I found myself in their shoes many times.
“M-mom…?” I said softly, hoping to coax them out of their trance. Nothing.
“…Ima?” I tried again, using the familiar title, the one they were used to. This time they did respond, but not in the way I was hoping.
They didn’t even look at me as they stood from their spot on the floor. Not so much as a glance in my direction as they stormed out of the room. Not even a goodbye as the front door slammed behind them.
And once again I was alone. Alone in an apartment I’d certainly have to clean before Nami returned. But for now, I just sat there. I sat and stared at the place where my mother once was. I looked down in my lap and stared at my tear-soaked hands. I lifted my head and turned towards the vanity, right in the spot where the vial stood.
I stared into the clear tube of silver, glittering dust. My source of happiness when my mind was devoid of any. When nothing else seemed to work. When the stress became too overwhelming.
I stared at it hard, and contemplated. Considered. And the longer I looked, the more that deep hunger began to swell inside me, in the deepest, darkest part of my heart.
I stared. And I stared. And I stared.
And I…
December 1st, 2020. 1:39 AM.
The weeks were starting to feel longer. The days blended together as time went on, and my job—both on the surface and beneath—were starting to feel too… mundane. Repetitive.
I tried to fill my day with distractions. Tried to change up my routine at points just to make things feel livelier. But nothing stuck for long. I still found myself feeling empty. Like a giant hole was carved into my chest and all the joy was sucked out, leaving nothing but an empty husk. A robot without a soul.
That isn’t how I presented myself though. On the surface, I was fine. I was still me. And in a way, pretending I was fine helped, even if only a little. I just wish I didn’t have to pretend at all.
I haven’t talked to my mom since that day.
I thought about calling home, seeing how everyone was. To see how they were doing, given what they now knew. I even considered maybe visiting for the holidays. It’d be a good chance for Nami to finally meet everyone. And moreso, it’d be a nice break from everything going on. But every time I reached for the phone, I was instantly hit with the memory of my mother’s anger. The yelling, the glares, the harsh words. I remember the way it twisted into anguish as I told them the truth—the full truth.
And I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.
Now I was here, tinkering away at the drone on my worktable, knowing that any semblance of a “break” would be a far-off memory for the foreseeable future.
How long could I close myself off, I wonder? How long until the self-sabotage got to an excruciating point? Was I not already there?
So much left to be seen, I suppose.
Vhiska was with me, standing at the other side of the table. She was running diagnostics on a few photomazers that Sai would be picking up later. I could hear her mumble curses under her breath on occasion as she meticulously examined each device.
I guess the mundanity wasn’t always bad. I liked moments like these. Quiet moments. Where it was just me and the many machines I would soon breathe life into. I preferred working with my hands rather than using my powers; the process was slower, but more intimate. More engaging. This way I wasn’t thinking about…
Yeah… no more of that.
The vial was in my pocket. I hadn’t decided yet if I was going to give it back to Sai or keep it. I went back and forth about it in my head, and the conclusion still remained unfounded. But I knew I had to decide soon, especially with Sai being minutes away from popping right into this very room.
“Hey,” Vhiska nodded their head towards me, “Could you hand me the—”
Cut off mid-sentence by the loud, sudden whirring sound from behind, a bright flash of light accompanying it, we both turned our heads to see Sai, clad in all black, entering the premise with each sword equipped and hilted on his hips and back.
Minutes… more like seconds.
“Hey.” He said simply, taking in our faces. He only glanced in my direction, but gave V a quick nod. “Could you, umm… could you give us a minute?”
Vhiska’s eyes flickered between the two of us, reluctant to leave her place at the table. But with a sigh, she placed the photomazer down and made their way towards the back room, rolling her eyes as she went.
“Guess I’ll go… help Barr with inventory.”
And with that, she was out of the room. Or at least, out of earshot. And Sai and I just remained there in silence, eyes awkwardly glancing at and away from each other over and over again. Things were still tense between us. Business took priority, but ever since I essentially forced him into my role as my dealer, the friendship we once had was dissipated. And that shitty feeling was taking over again.
I was the first to chime up, breaking the awkward pause between us. “Listen, Sai… I just wanted to say that, um… I’m really sorry? And I know that’s not enough… I know it wouldn’t be for me, but… I just want you to know that I’m not gonna ask again. I think that… I think that I’ll be okay without. Or at least, I can learn how…”
Sai only looked at me. The expression on his face was hard to read; there was a pang of guilt there, mixed with turmoil, and a small touch of sadness. Inner conflict, perhaps? Or maybe… heartbreak.
He sighed, pulling his hands from his pockets as he approached me, squatting down with his arms rested on his knees. He didn’t say anything for a while, only staring down as the floor. As if searching for the right words to say. I was starting to think my apology wasn’t enough—obviously, it wasn’t. It was hardly adequate considering the gravity of what I’ve done. Maybe I’ve fucked this up beyond repair. Maybe it was time to give up now. Or was it?
“L-look, Sai, I’m—”
“Sector 8.” He cut me off.
I stared down at him, brows furrowed in confusion. “What are you…”
“Sector 8. Environ 169. District 7.”
He lifted his head, staring me right in the eyes. I stared back, disbelief etched into my visage as I finally understood what he was telling me.
“Your friend is indeed in Vano.”
Even seeing it coming didn’t stop the words from hitting me like a truck. It didn’t make the weight of it any lighter either. This was it. This was really it. I had a location. A place, an exact place, pinpointed. The place where Iannis was.
And now all that was left to do was… go get her.
With that sudden realization, I felt that same weight—the weight of the world on my shoulders—threatening to crush me.
“Is there… is there anything else you need?” Sai asked, a look of deep concern in his eyes as he noticed how still I’d become. I wanted to answer—hell, my mind was screaming at me to. But my eyes were directed at the floor. I was still too shaken. Still too hyper-focused on that weight.
And suddenly I was reminded of the weight of a small vial in my pocket.
Sector 8. Environ 169. District 7.
There’s so much to do… I need to think. Need to plan…
Sector 8. Environ 169. District 7.
I don’t know what to do… how to get there, how to go about this…
Sector 8. Environ 169. District 7.
I need a plan. I need help…
Sector 8.
I need… I need…
Sector 8.
I need to relax…
I lifted my head towards Sai.
“Do you have some more?”