“Vy… Vy?... Vy?!…
Vy!!
”
“Ah!” My head slips from my palm, but I jolt upright just in time to avoid hitting the table. “Yes, yes, I’m listening!”
I blink away the drowsiness, my eyes falling on a very annoyed face. I wince, but cannot hold back the yawn that escapes from my lips. Sabar’s scowl deepens. “My word, you really were dozing off! I can’t believe you!”
“I, uh… sorry… you were saying?”
She scoffs. “I’m clearly boring you with my chatter, so why trouble yourself any longer?”
I cannot focus, my heart hammering against my chest. I frantically scan the bedroom, searching for… something—“Vy!”
I flinch and turn back to Sabar… then really look at her this time. I can’t quite place why, but there is something about the familiar scent of her perfume, the soft features of her face, and the warm glow of her golden pupils—even as she’s frowning at me—that I have deeply missed. My mouth falls open, but there are no words that I can formulate. My pounding heartbeat steadily quietens but an aching sting lingers in my chest.
Sabar’s gaze suddenly softens, only to narrow again with confusion… and a tinge of worry.
“Why are you crying?”
My hands fly to my face, where the tears flow endlessly. “W-what… has gotten into me?”
“Vy…” Her hands slip around my shaking body, and she takes me into a gentle embrace. It has the opposite effect, and a barely restrained snivel escapes from my lips. I hold her tight, as if she might vanish at any moment, and for several long minutes we just stay like that.
“…That was one novel way to evade a topic.” She says after I have calmed down, and we giggle. Sabar eyes me carefully. “Now out with it. What was with the sudden outburst?”
“I… I have no idea.” She raises an eyebrow. “I swear I…” I shake my head, wincing as pain flares across my forehead and above both ears.
“Are you alright?”
“Y-yes, I… yes,” I groan, then the pain is gone. “Sorry… I just had the most bizarre dream… but I can’t seem to remember what it was about, no matter how hard I try.”
“And it made you
that
emotional?” She motions to me to get on my feet, and I once again take in my surroundings. We are in Sabar’s bedroom; a place I am so familiar with that I should not be gaping at it like it is the first the I have been here… or as if I had not been here for a very long time. I hit my shin on the low table, yelping in pain; I almost trip down, but Sabar catches me.
She says something, but I am more focused on the table; the pain from my leg an afterthought. There are several books on the table, as well as a pile of sheets of paper and sticky notes a bit everywhere—I remember now; I was helping Sabar organise her research report from the Hanging Gardens, then we got sidetracked and she started rhapsodizing about that man, Khan, with whom she has lately entered into an official attachment.
But when did I fall asleep?
I wince at another brief zap of pain in my head.
We make our way downstairs to the kitchen where Aunty Farah is watering a potted plant near the open window, humming a merry tune. She looks up from her flowers. “Oh, are you ladies finally done?” Her voice is soft and melodious… familiar. I have heard her a million times, yet it feels like the first time in an eternity.
She smiles warmly at us, motherly love oozing from her being. At the ripe age of three-hundred and eleven, she hardly has any wrinkles on her face. Many women start showing signs of aging my that time, but Aunty is not like many women, she is calm and elegant, a woman of few words—when she doesn’t get mad. She taught me everything I know about womanhood; what to do when I had my first monthly bleeding, how to carry myself like a proper lady, and so much more. She is the mother I never had.
A knot rises in my throat, and before I can think it through, my legs carry me forward. Aunty gasps in surprise when I throw my arms around her, trapping her in a tight hug. “Oh dear! That was out of the blue…”
“I missed you so much, Aunty,” I rasp.
“You did?” she asks, returning the hug. She is confused, just like I am. “But we saw each other just this morning.”
“Vy has been acting very strangely,” Sabar says from behind.
“Hmm?” She gently unclasps my arms from around her, cradles my face between her hands, and gives me a dubious smile. “You did not inhale the fumes from one of Sabar’s strange brews, now, did you?”
“Hey! I’m innocent here,” she says petulantly. “Gee… I’m thirty-three, and well past the age of such carelessness. I do all my experiments in my lab, and you know it.”
“It’s not her fault, Aunty, I… I just had a bad dream.” I feel silly now that I am saying it out loud.
“A bad dream?” And now, I regret mentioning it at all. With Sabar is one thing, but with aunty; it feels so childish.
“Vy fell asleep while we were in the middle of sorting out my papers. I woke her up, and now she is like…
this
.” The tone she uses makes me want to pinch her.
Hard
. But I keep myself from pouncing on her. I have to commit Aunty’s face to memory.
Later. I’ll make her pay for it later.
Aunty glances at me once again, then back at Sabar. “Are you sure you did not leave any of your flasks open during the night?”
“I did
not
, Mom,” she groans.
I try to regain some modicum of composure and straighten myself. I take the cup of water handed to me and gulp it up completely. “I must simply be a bit tired. I’m sure it will go away after some time.”
Sabar and Aunty exchange unconvinced glances. I shift under my feet. Then Aunty claps her hands. “Then a break is in order, I suppose. The two of you have been at it well into the night, it is only normal that the shortage of sleep caught up, eventually. Go out, you two. Have some fresh air. I am sure you will feel much better later, yes?”
After being shooed out of the house, Sabar and I decide to take a stroll to the nearest park. I walk with eyes roving everywhere, the streets, the buildings, the people going on about their day… why does such a mundane sight make my heart ache with melancholy? And this lingering… dread at the back of my mind, why am I feeling like that? I don’t understand.
“You are acting out of character, Vy, it scares me.” I had wondered why Sabar had been quiet all this time. It looks like she had been observing while I was distracted. We are now resting on a bench in the middle of the park, a troop of children are running about, laughing without a care in the world. It reminds me of the time when I was exactly that age. “Are you listening?!”
I start when she suddenly gets in my face, she places her palm on my forehead, staring intently.
“You don’t have a fever,” she says. She stretches the lower lids of my eyes, then checks the pulse on my wrist. “Your pulse is normal. It’s not that time of the month, so it can’t be the hormones, though it never happened before. Maybe something that you ate? But we had the same thing for dinner last night and breakfast today too…”
“Sabar, I’m fine—I feel totally fine. I promise,” I say, removing her hands from all over me.
“You are as far from fine as it gets, Vy.” I don’t answer. But she is right; I don’t feel completely like myself. It’s so strange. The sky is beautiful, in fact, it feels especially beautiful today.
“Tell me about that dream of yours.”
I hesitate. “There is not much to tell, I don’t remember what it was about. Maybe I was not dreaming at all.”
There is a pause. “Then tell me what it felt like.”
“…I think I was afraid… always, all the time, but also sometimes less than others.” Again, I feel that stabbing pain at the sides of my head and forehead, but it is gone as quickly as it came. “That’s all I can say.”
Sabar stares for a long time, then she sighs. “Maybe it really is just fatigue.” I shrug.
“I’m hungry, let’s buy some snacks.”
She gapes at me before letting out a soft giggle. “Well, that’s more like you—eating away at your concerns.”
“Excuse you? I don’t do that… not that often.”
“Sure, sure…” she stands up, smirking. “Let’s get those snacks. But later, we really have to finish sorting out those papers.”
I smile back and get up too, and we start walking down the road. “Whatever you want. We can use the meantime to finish our earlier discussion… on that outing you had with your beau.”
Sabar’s face brightens and a large, joyful smile spreads across her lips. “I almost forgot! Let me tell you; Kahn has become so adorably shy ever since we are now in an official relationship. He used to be so casual and confident with me, but now he can barely hold my hand.” She giggles as she reminisces about it. “You should have seen his reaction when I hugged him by surprise… ”
We ended up spending the entire day fooling around, only coming back when the sun had fallen low in the sky.
We find Aunty on the couch, engrossed deep in a book when we come back home, and from its cover, I suspect it being one of her volume set of poems. Poetry has always been one of those literary genres I struggled to embrace. Despite my best efforts, I never found love for it. Each verse felt like a puzzle written in some alien tongue, the meaning hovering just beyond my reach. Where others—namely aunty and Sabar—speak of beauty and resonance, I find only a confusing jumble of words.
“Ah, we have not started yet, and I’m already so done with it.” Sabar grumbles dejectedly. “Vy, you sure there are no spells to organise paperwork for me that could you could use?”
“Not that I have heard of, no,” I laugh. “We have no choice but to do it the old, boring way, I fear.” Sabar groans in agony.
We greet aunty as we walk past her, which she briefly acknowledges with a nod. “Vy, I had Nænè on the line earlier, he asked that you come see him when you have the time, alright?”
“Okay,” I reply casually. Then I stop in my tracks four steps later. My stomach sinks.
Teacher.
My legs throb, my lungs burn, I draw short, wheezy breaths as I force myself to go as fast as I have ever been. It’s been a few years since I pushed myself this hard, not even during the sporting events in my teenage years had I ever bothered to strain myself so much. I tear through the night streets, brushing past startled pedestrians, nearly colliding with some. They yell that I be careful, some calling me insane. I throw apologies into the wind but do not slow my pace—I run even faster. I am tempted many times to just use flight to shorten the distance, but I know I will be arrested almost immediately, and I can’t waste time being captured by a Construct and explaining myself to an officer—not that I would have any valid explanation.
Why’s the station so far away?
I left the house in a frenzy, abandoning the door wide open, with a baffled Sabar and aunty on the spot. I think Sabar yelled something after me, but I had put too much distance to discern what she had said.
I stumble a lot and stop many times in my race, using those brief moments to catch my breath. Yet I never take more than a couple of seconds before resuming with my maddened rhythm. Finally, I reach the station. The place is swarming. A herd of people exiting and entering the SCPLE’s carriages in a silent, coordinated fashion. I force myself to steady here, slipping into line and having my token validated. A couple of minutes later I am seated on a bench, waiting anxiously as the SCPLE hums to life and we depart.
I have never wished for the SCPLE to any faster than now, even as it is currently crossing thousands of kilometres—I wished we would be there already.
About twenty minutes later, a monotone voice announces we have arrived at Jin’raeh and the transport comes to a stop. I dash out of a station and into the paved roads of the city, cutting corners through shortcuts I used to take when I was younger. Soon a familiar building come into view. I burst into the lobby, then beeline for the lift, then stop.
My key! I don’t have my key!
Then I quickly remember that I stored it in my Subspace. I retrieve it, go into the lift and use it to access the apartment. My home.
“Teacher!!” I call out from the living room, my voice ragged. “Teacher, are you there!?”
No answer.
Is he not there? D-did something happen to him? I bury my face in my palms, the fear in me growing. No, no, it can’t be…
“Ìnhgū? Is that you?”
I look up, and my legs give out. The fear, all the worst scenarios I had in mind… they all evaporate at the sight of him.
“Ìnhgū!” He rushes down the stairs and on his knees next to me in an instant, his gaze one of pure terror. Funny. I never saw teacher so afraid before… Well, maybe he did have such an expression when that one experiment with a spirit crystal I conducted a year ago went south.
I clutch onto his clothes, too overwhelmed to speak. Teacher sees that and just holds me tight and that’s all I need.
“What happened?” he asks.
I open my mouth, close it, then swallow hard. My body becoming rigid. I feel an overwhelming wave of self-consciousness and shame creeping over me. What am I supposed to tell him?
A twisted realization grips me—I left Sabar and aunty behind. I fled the house like a hysterical woman escaping a madhouse, then ran through the streets of
two cities
as if being chased by an unseen pursuer, only to barge in home and scream out Teacher’s name… in the middle of the night. Is it really a dream… a-a bad dream which made me act like this?
When I fail to answer his questions, Teacher gently leads me to my bedroom. He assures me that it will be alright, that I am safe. He tells me to take a bath to calm myself, to change into something comfortable—he will be back. The door is closed with a small click when he leaves, his footsteps echoing on the other side until I can no longer hear him. I pause, then draw the bath, wash, and slip into my nightgown. I move without thought, performing each action as though it were not truly me, but someone else commanding my body. I scarcely react when I notice blisters beneath my feet, and the small lesions I got from running in sandals. I prop myself onto the bed, and hug my legs close, and wait.
Half an hour later, Teacher is back with a tray of warm tea.
I drink slowly, wordlessly. In turn, Teacher does not utter a word, he just watches me. My head is hung low; I don’t dare look in his eyes. I am too ashamed to face whatever expression he wears. I hate the silence, but at the same time, I am thankful he does not press me with questions.
When I finish, Teacher sets the tray aside, and I slip beneath the covers, hiding completely in my shame. I cannot bear for him to see me like this. What is wrong with me? Why do I feel so scared? Why does my head throb with such relentless pain?
The last thing I remember before falling is Teacher’s hand on my covered head. Telling me that everything will be better…
I am forgetting… I am forgetting something important…