‘The sky is blue because blue light travels as shorter, smaller waves.’

April 20th, 2000

“So it’s true then? You actually hooked up with Marie?”

The water Felix has been drinking is almost turned into a projectile by Gabriel’s words. He does a mix between a snort and a cough, which sends the ice-cold round up his nose — he is instantly brought back to the present. He goes into a small coughing fit, which gives him a few seconds to glance at the rest of the classroom. Nobody is paying attention.

“W-What do you mean by that?” Felix says, covering his mouth and nose.

“I mean, the other day, that was just a lucky jab. Just messing about, you know? But, like, you’ve been eyeing each other up for a while now.” Gabriel plays with the topper to his protein shake, flipping it back and forth. Click clack. “This is textbook high school romance shit, dude.”

He had been previously trapped in a dissociative episode, staring at himself in third person, trying to see which of his memories were real. More than anything, he wanted to know which actions, if any, are actually his. But right now, Felix, with ninety-nine percentile accuracy, has a frown rivaling that of a constipated blobfish.

As tomorrow would be the long weekend, he and Marie agreed to meet up after school to pursue additional leads. Until then, he’d have to deal with one more day of forced normalcy. But it seems like their interactions have given many people the wrong idea.

“We’re just friends,” he says, trying to forget about his tortured introspection. “Really. I think she might actually kill me if you say that again.” He pauses. “I don’t really think we’re even friends, actually…”

“Really? You sure, man?” Marie is skipping English class, which allows Gabriel to speak his audacious mind with few repercussions. Although Felix figured him for the noisy sort, he never realized quite how free-spirited the jock is with his words. “But you’re hanging out with her,” he continues. “Like, rooftop lunch getaways? That’s romantic.”

“Those are just because it’s hard to get privacy on campus…”

Infact, the biggest violator of personal privacy is sitting right beside Felix. But he looks oddly disappointed at the blunt rejection. “Well, what about walking home together? Heard you were staying at her place.”

Another slip of his tongue has already spread. High-schools are truly terrifying places. “Well, I’m staying in her cellar since I ran out of... rent money…”

“A cellar. Harsh.”

“Wait. How do you know about all of this?”

Gabriel raises a brow, grinning a lopsided grin. “You two are kinda famous already, you know? I heard prom sucked, so the rumormongers are looking for quips to redeem their gossip season.”

“Are you sure that you aren’t one of those rumormongers?” Felix asks.

“Felix. How could you accuse a brother of such a thing?”

He covers up a string of noncommittal sounds with a long sip of water.

“...I mean, I do keep track of things. But it’s kinda necessary, y’know? Not much to do in this town.” After a few moments of visible thought, Gabriel shrugs his shoulders in defeat and matches a sip. “Alright, fine. Regardless, I’m curious. Do you actually like her?”

He utters a silent prayer, hoping this conversation never reaches Marie’s ears. “Well, yeah. She’s a good person. Lively personality. And, well, I think she may be kinda cute…”

“You sure you’re not ‘just’ friends?”

“A-Absolutely!”

As soon as Gabriel pushes the idea again, Felix thumps his fist against the desk, reflexively.

The jock drums his fingers on the table, adopting a posture fitting for a detective. “As far as I see it, if you like her, why not go out with her? You seem to have a very high tolerance for scary things — I think you might be able to survive her.”

‘Surviving’ is a vast overstatement of how well Felix has been handling the past few weeks. He sucks in his lips and nods nervously. “Yeeaaahh…”

Even though they aren’t here, the imposing figures of those around Marie loom over him, weapons raised. He can practically feel Erika, Jules, and Aniya holding their respective blades over his back.

Saving another’s life at personal risk is one thing. Risking one’s own life unnecessarily for romantic pursuits is another entirely. As much as he likes her out of respect and admiration, attempting any advances will surely end in his brutal murder.

Even then, she seemed lonely. He’s seen the way she stands alone in the rain, lives for herself, the way she seems to be utterly incorrigible to the passing observer. But there was a hint of blue to the sway of her form, an incredible melancholy afforded to those that will always walk alone. If anything, he’d like to be there for her and understand what’s going on in that mind of hers. Mere friendship would be enough to accomplish that.

“She’s not as scary as you think,” Felix says, sighing. “She’s like a cat. Maybe one that hasn’t quite gotten used to living in a house.” As soon as the loose thought escapes his lips, he realizes his mistake.

But it’s already too late. Gabriel’s eyes widen as he breaks into a maddened cackle. “A cat? Hell no, mother fucker. She’s a hyena that’s gonna laugh as she claws your face off. Or, no, that’s too nice!” Another bout of uncontrollable laughter. “No, definitely a tiger. A tiger is perfectly fine for a grass-eating dude like you. Maybe she’ll be nice and play with her food.” Roars of mirth, like rolling thunder.

Felix isn’t sure what’s so funny, but he pouts. “I’m not talking to you about romance anymore.”

Suddenly, Gabriel’s expression sobers to a serious mask. “Know what? You’re right. She’s a cat.”

“Wha…?”

“Black cats have always been omens of death.”

A statement like that isn’t enough to phase Felix, but he furrows his brow anyway. “W-What do you mean by that?”

He digs something out of his pocket and presents it to Felix. A glossy plastic-wrapped envelope. “Talking about the realm of fantasy, my man. New expac — bought you a booster since there was a deal. See if you get lucky, eh?”

“Oh. Thanks.”

Felix takes the warm, glossy packet and looks it over. There are stylish totem poles in a purple frame with mighty-looking warriors battling underneath a split sky.

HARBINGERS, the title says in big red letters, DESTINY, AT ANY COST.

Aniya isn’t in the clubroom. I don’t see her hanging around her locker, the library, or even the class she’s supposed to be attending. I make a loop back around the school to the science club’s base of operations and unlock the door.

“Huh,” I mutter, stepping in and turning on the lights, “So that’s why she gets mad when she can’t find me…”

Trying to find somebody you want to talk to and realizing they’re nowhere to be found is a strange sensation. I can’t tell if it’s annoyance or worry that I’m feeling, but a gnarled knot of constricted stems has settled in my chest.

A layer of dust has settled on the beakers and black plywood tabletops, fine as autumn’s first snowfall. I find myself stepping lightly on the tiles, careful not to disturb the grey specks.

With less than three weeks left in the semester, our club activities are coming to a close. It’s almost over. Not like we actually use our club for anything besides hanging out and embezzling funds directly from the school (probably very illegal).

Still, even though it doesn’t look like it at all, there are four years of memories stored in this dingy, abandoned lab. They’re mine, Aniya’s, Gabriel’s — even Adrian’s, though he’s barely around these days.

I know it’s unlike myself to drip melancholy like this, but I can’t help myself in the face of that cold, nagging hunger. I’m sated at the moment, but even the ghost of that sensation is enough to send my mind into a rut.

Fetters that bind us together. All-consuming arcane hunger. I wonder which one will win out first.

We established this club on a whim. The second week of class, Aniya dragged us together with an application as we were chatting in our corner in the cafeteria.

“Wait, what’s this all about?” asked Gabriel, who was marginally less muscular than he is today.

“Pelchat wanted me to establish a club so he could get funding from the state,” Aniya said, handing out a pen for each of us.

Our group of four had been vaguely acquainted through mutual relationships before that, but we didn’t exactly know each other that well.

“How much money do we get?” asked Adrian.

Aniya pointed at a box circled in red ink. For a high school student, there were a lot of zeros. “Per year, assuming we meet minimal activity standards.”

But I wasn’t particularly paying attention at the time — my ham and tomato sandwich was, for whatever reason, much more interesting. Suppose I was just zoned out. Didn’t particularly care for any of the people I was hanging around with since I was dragged there on a whim.

“Says we need a club president, too.” Gabriel pointed to a blank signature spot, then dragged his finger along the terms and conditions. “...An ambassador position. Yeesh. I couldn’t publicly speak myself out of an egg.”

Aniya shrugged. “But it’s free money. Better to us than, say, the club for underwater basket weaving.”

“We… have one of those?”

“Is a hypothetical.”

“I mean,” interjected Adrian, “we could totally form a club based around that.”

“Absolutely not,” both Gabriel and Aniya blurted out at the same time. They looked at each other, then Aniya shook her head. “A science-based club would be both useful, practical, and most importantly, profitable. Just need a leader.”

“Dibs out,” said Gabriel.

“It would be in bad taste to take charge like this...” said Aniya, suddenly growing timid.

“Nope,” said Adrian, throwing up his hands.

When I came to, everybody was looking at me expectantly. “...Eh? What were we talking about again?”

I ended up agreeing, not really sure what I was getting myself into. Turns out it was a whole dumptruck’s worth of garbage — my otherwise aimless days were suddenly filled with paperwork and mandatory social interactions. At first, I was forced against my will to get to know the people around me better. Although my arcane study schedule was uninterrupted by this development, I suppose I ended up with what normal people would call a ‘social life.’

Mundane days passed. We dealt with rival clubs. Government forms and applications. Each other. Somehow, through thick and thin, we’ve managed to stick together through this whole highschool biz. Even won an award for a state fair last year — I find the dented star-shaped trophy in a lower cabinet and run my finger on the unusually sharp edges. I can still remember Aniya’s smiling face as she cheered, jumping up and down on the pedestal, and the following look of absolute horror when she accidentally dropped this damned award. The pure velocity of how fast her mood shifted gives me a small chortle, even today.

...Damn that girl. If it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t be having all these second thoughts. The bitter, stinging, thorny sensations all come from the very moment I signed myself away on that contract. I put down the tarnished award and begin walking away, unable to decipher the strange, painful things bouncing around my head.

What happened to my resolve? Just one week ago, I was ready to throw away everything to embrace my destiny. Primed to lose this current life. The ghost of myself passes through my peripheral, a wraith filled with murderous resolve. How I wish I could return to that blissful arrogance, a time where my self-righteous desires were the only thing I cared about.

I’m not as strong as I thought I was if three little words could shake my heart like this. I close my eyes and heave a long sigh.

—before I had realized it, the words for the emotions I’m feeling abandoned me before I could cast them aside.

It takes a while for Felix to notice me.

I had been waiting to the side of the entrance roof, arms crossed, staring off at the forest beyond the school’s fields. It’s a relatively clear-sky, no-rain type of day today, so I figured splurging some of our club’s funds would be a good way to improve my mood. With all the work we’d be doing after school, it’s a good investment.

About two minutes after the first lunch buzzer, the doors crack open. Felix walks out, then stumbles around once he notices that I’m not sitting in my regular spot. He looks legitimately clueless, mouth starting to gape a little. Wind tousles his fluffy brown hair, driving it over his eyes.

“Oi,” I call out, waving him down. “Ooooooi.”

He snaps to attention, putting his heels together and spinning to face me. “Marie…?”

“We’re making a quick trip to the city,” I say. “C’mon. Up and at’em. Lunch break for lunch break.”

Felix looks back at our spot, then puffs up one cheek indignantly.

“Hm? Don’t look at me like that — I’m not your maid. You should stop expecting homemade food.” I roll my eyes as I open the doors to the stairwell. “And before you say anything, know that flattery won’t work on me. Don’t you even try to say that I’m good at cooking.”

Something freezes up in Felix’s body — it looked like he was about to say something, then instantly deflated. “Aww.”

“I don’t want to hear it. Go.”

He shakes his head and slumps his shoulders as he meanders past me. I give him an extra little push, just to make sure that he gets his ass in motion. “Up and at ‘em, boy.”

We walk for a little while to the front gates, not bothering with any small talk. The groups of sophomore and junior students stare at us as we walk past them, six dozen accusing eyes. I suppose our dress isn’t helping our impressions — we happen to be some of the only folks that dress distinctly at this institution.

The trees whisper to each other as we walk down the forest road. A filtered breeze brushes against the outside of my nylon jacket, blows around loose locks of hair. I look up.

The clouds are moving westward, a seaborne wind. The gales would carry whatever happens at sea and deposit it over town.

“We’re investigating Ren’s apartment today,” I say to Felix. “We’re going to be looking for this.”

I reach into my bag and toss the white book at him. He fumbles the volume a few times before he catches it. “T-This? But it’s right here...”

“No, you idiot. You absolute buffoon. We’re looking for Ren’s copy. She must’ve gotten it from somewhere, right? I already checked her locker and the school’s library, so it must be at her home.”

“Ah. Right.” Felix nods, holding the thing awkwardly in his hands. Looks like he's trying to hold a platter of drinks, somehow forgetting how to hold a book.

He’s even more awkward than usual. I recognize those conflicted, flitting eyes and distracted fidgeting — I slow down my pace and give him a jostle with my elbow. “Oi. If something’s on your mind, out with it. Can’t have you zoning out if we run into a situation like the one at the mall again.”

“Is that what it looks like?” He laughs awkwardly, a sound between nails on a chalkboard and song. “I guess I didn’t get much sleep since last night. Been just thinking a lot, really. About stuff.” He trails off, looking guiltily at the side of the road.

He’s trying to hide something from me again. Maybe he’s always been. Could’ve been fooled if he wasn’t just so terrible at deception — it’s like he’s physically incapable of telling a convincing lie.

But before I can pry further, the squawk of tires spoils the tranquility around us. We both look up at the sight of squealing tires and an utterly teal eyesore.

“Yo, nerds! Squad up!” Gabriel pops his head out of his stupid orange-wedge shaped car with a shout. Slams on the horn. I wince as a shrill squeak comes from the car’s bite-sized horn. “Operation L.U.N.C.H. is a go, gents. You’re being drafted to war — A fuckin’ food fight!”

The suddenness of it makes my head spin. I throw up my hands and shout back. “The hell are you talking about?”

“We’re saving Private Crabs! The gang’s all here!”

“What?!”

“It’ll be a crab-tivating time!”

“Dude, what the fu—”

“We need two more to reach maximum crab-acity! Get in, nerds, or you won’t be getting free lunch!”

Gabriel punches the horn, bleating out some monotone melody. A few birds cry and abandon their perches in the nearby trees. Some part of my soul flies away with them, and judging by the look of abject horror on Felix’s face, he lost some of his, too.

There’s no easy way out of this social encounter. While free lunch is nice and all, I have other plans.

Correction: had other plans. There’s only one way to keep these idiots in check. They can’t be up to anything good.

I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose, wishing for a pair of earplugs. But like all of my other wishes, that one never had a chance of coming to fruition.

“You were actually hanging out with these guys?” I shout over the sounds of car horns.

Felix doesn’t have a good response to that — he just hangs his head glumly and apologizes. Whether to me, the forest, the car, Gabriel, or himself, I’m not sure.

Gabriel, the absolute ungrateful bastard, saves shotgun for Felix. That means I get crammed into the matchbox coffin of the backseats. There’s barely enough space for me to put on the seatbelt — at the other end of the car, Adrian looks like a chicken crammed into a can, arms contorted at concerning levels. I’m having a better time than him, but not by much.

“Dragged along again?” I mutter, giving him a sympathetic glance.

Adrian grazes me with a pleading look and says, “Help.”

The ride is filled with nothing but crab puns. A small eternity later, we pull up to a fitting crab place, a big shed-shaped building with a bright plastic roof and THE CRAB SHACK stenciled in worn white paint. Gabriel grinds the car to a squealing stop in the second free parking spot, then tosses the keys to Felix.

“I’m going to check up on our reservation, hold down the fort,” Gabriel says, clicking his tongue. “Eh heh heh. We’re about to become the Kings of Crab.”

The keys end up in Felix’s lap — he fumbles off his seatbelt and steps out of the car. “W-Wait, don’t just leave me with the keys, I don’t have insurance…!”

In a matter of seconds, both Gabriel and Felix have removed themselves from the vehicle and are rapidly departing towards the crab-based shack. The resulting silence hits like a hammer, a raw impact that leaves my ears ringing.

I look towards Adrian, who doesn’t really have any emotions on his face. All that’s left is a thousand yard stare and the song of silence.

“I need better friends,” he says, quietly.

“Yeah, you do.” I slump into dirty leather and deflate.

I hadn’t really talked to Adrian in a while. Nothing besides small talk for the past little while; he’s always too busy making connections with the hip and chill kids to really reach. But now we’ve been both kidnapped by our local mad dog who’s suddenly gained a fetish for crab and crab related puns. Might be waiting for a while.

I scratch my neck, looking out the window. If I look carefully enough, past the streetcars and oversaturated storefronts and the distant glimmer of the ocean, Adrian’s reflection stares listlessly towards mine. Those sad brown eyes have certainly seen some shit.

“So, uh,” I offer, “how’s the whole theatre stint going?”

“It’s going,” he says, not looking towards me.

“Righty-ho.”

Minutes pass. Gabriel and Felix seem to be arguing about something inside — the jock is flailing around a sheet of glossy paper. Coupons?

I look back at Adrian, who has all the hallmarks of somebody who really doesn’t want to be here. His eyes are seeking any place away from this car. Then, almost as if drawn by a magnet, they latch onto me.

“Actually, sorry about this,” he starts, “but do you have any plans for after highschool?”

A sudden query. Questions like that don't come out of nowhere.

“Not really. I’ve had, uh, a few things that’ve come up and ruined my plans.”

He takes a deep breath and leans against the headrest. Eyes closed. “Ah. Not the only one, then. Nice.”

Must be pretty stressed to admit something like that to an acquaintance. I nod understandingly, scratching at my cheek.

“My problems are more… familial in nature. If you get that. Not really comfortable with talking about them in public.” I also resist the urge to say that I’ll have to kill him if I tell him any more.

“I get that. But, right now, I could… really use some advice.” Adrian takes an uneasy gulp of air and looks at the space between us. “If you can keep a secret.”

“Why are you asking me?”

“I mean, you’ve always been the mature one…”

Mature. Good joke.

This was the last day of sworn normalcy. Might as well do my social obligations and hear our my friends, one last time. “No promises that it’ll be good advice.”

“Well… it’s just… I’m going to be moving to my uncle’s place, soon. Gonna be pretty rough starting over again in L.A.” He wrings his hands together in his lap, blowing air through his nose. “You think I’m worrying about nothing? Practically everybody is moving out of state — Aniya said she wanted to go to MIT. My family’s in showbiz, but like… I’m not the most outgoing. Tryna decide between the family business and, well, maybe studying something sciency...”

Indecision. Fear of the future. Common problems, the same problems as mine, albeit on a much smaller scale. “No reason you couldn’t push off showbiz for a few years, right? Take a gap year or something.”

“That’s not the problem,” Adrian stammers. He looks away, biting at his upper lip. “I just… I’m having a really hard time making up my mind.”

A lot of baggage. This must’ve been on his mind for a while. I guess he’s also feeling the end of the year in his own way — nobody can escape the passage of time, nor the slow crawl of our lives moving on.

“That’s what the gap year is for, innit? Like, figure out what makes you happy first. We’re relatively young, aren’t we?”

“I… suppose so.”

“Yeah. Then there’s no need to rush.” A lie. “You’ll have plenty of time to decide what you want to do with the rest of your life.” Time is running out. “Plus, the family biz will always accept you. Trust me. I know these things.”

No way to turn back.

Adrian stares at me for a long time. Then, when the distant shout of Gabriel comes through the car doors, he nods. “Alright… thanks, Marie.” He gives me a weak smile as he reaches for the car door. “I’ll get some fresh air.”

“Try not to drown in it,” I say, waving him off.

I never really knew Adrian that well — he was always the too-rich bastard with eccentric tastes and too much time spent socializing. But I feel like I know him a little better, now. Not that it really matters.

I’ve always known myself to be a hypocrite. This changes nothing.

Crab hour is over before we know it, but not without its casualties. We took out General Snow(crab), several platoons of shrimp, a team of carp, and a whole reinforcement platter of lobster-cream pasta, but Gabriel lost two shirts to a mariana malfunction. Adrian clocks out near the end of our conquest of Pasta Valley, vanishing off to the bathroom. The sudden departure sends a cup of water spiraling downwards — right onto Felix’s pants. He looks down with a disappointed, but expectant frown. “Ah.”

His gasp is not one of surprise, but the same kind of slow wheeze sound you’d expect from the sad deflation of a balloon.

“Ouch,” Gabriel says, between sips of coke.

“...I’ll be right back.”

The following departure leaves me and Gabriel together underneath the weak light of a single yellow light bulb. I push around pasta with my fork, diverting rivers of excess cream sauce and freckles of fried bits. After getting bored of that, I rest my chin against a propped palm and glance out the window. Still blue skies.

“So what’s all this for?” I ask, quietly.

Gabriel stops, fritter raised halfway to his mouth. His eyes lock onto me as he lowers the bite onto the plate. Then he grins. “...You know, that’s why you’re terrifying, Marie. Saw through me, just like that, huh?”

“It was a guess.” A miniscule roll of my shoulders. “You’re not exactly the most subtle person.”

“Ah. Should work on that.”

A waiter rolls by, sweeping up demolished plates. He gives us a certain indignant look when he notices the red spill underneath the shrimp basket.

The rest of the restaurant goes on without us. A busty little near sea-side place with slightly-overpriced tourist food, locals and foreigners alike. I can pick up traces of New York twang, southern drawls, clipped bits of drawn out Massachusetts. Accents of outsiders. A crowd of faces and names meant to be forgotten after one leaves the door — this is as much privacy as we're going to get.

“What’s up?” I say, lowering my voice.

Gabriel is looking somewhere past me. After a few seconds, he lowers his head, as though hiding behind my silhouette.

A sign. Slowly, I follow the traces of his gaze.

Potted plants. Gaudy ocean-themed decor. Plastic anchor. Groups of tourists. Laughter. Cascades of yellowed light. My vision picks out the object — no, the person of interest after three scans. Sitting in a corner table by himself is a figure I glossed over the other day: the man in the grey vest. He’s scribbling something down on a clipboard, sipping on a mojito. Hasn’t noticed us yet; I duck before he can.

“There’s something real strange going on,” Gabriel mutters, abandoning his whimsical facade. “Seems like you and Felix are wrapped up in your own problems, but there’s something going on with Aniya as well.”

A methodical approach. Sometimes I forget that there’s an actual brain behind that wall of muscles and irreverence — this is one of those times.

I sneak another glimpse at Vest Dude. “You trailing him?”

“He appeared around a week and some ago. Around the same time, been having a hard time reaching her. Seems to be doing daily meetups. Supervisor of some sort, I’m sure.” His eyes flick to me, cold blue. “She’s been acting… off, too. Disappearing. Tried calling her, but the line is dead. Shit’s whack, dude.”

This is an unspoken plea to collaborate: he sensed that me and Felix were up to sleuth work and reached out. I don’t know why Gabriel took it upon himself to shadow Aniya and this man, but there must be a good reason for it. “She confessed to me the other day. Was real sudden.”

“Anything else?”

“Tried to get into contact via phone, apparently. Mine’s busted, didn’t get anything.” If the line was dead, then there’s a possibility she got a new phone and SIM, for whatever reason. “Could’ve been trying to reach out to me on a new line, maybe.” Might need to move getting a new phone higher on my list of priorities.

“Mhm. Yeah, sounds about right. Caught her wandering around town. I’m not looking into this full time, but I’m just looking out for a friend. I’m worried about her, man.”

So I’m not the only one dealing with suspicious activities. Gabriel over here is trying his hand at becoming a Hardy Boy (singular) with Adrian as his cover. “What tipped you off? Started all this, I mean.”

“You remember Ren? Quiet girl, always in the library?”

I’m currently doing a little more than remembering. But, regardless, I nod. “Yeah? What about her?”

“The day before she passed out, I saw her reading a weird little white book. Didn’t think much of it until I saw Aniya herself touting one around. Might be some, like, cult shit.”

“Mrgh—”

The white book. My heart seizes up — a jolt of mental recoil causes me to flitch. I try to hide it, I suppose I don’t hide it well enough. Gabriel is on me again, furrowing his bushy brows. “You know about it?”

“A little. We’re planning on heading to Ren’s apartment after class to investigate. Pelchat had a book too, before he went missing.”

A partial truth. I can’t let Gabriel know everything — Hell, I should be putting a stop to this right now. But delegating some of the groundwork to him might save both of us some time, especially if he’s working on something I don’t know about yet. Aniya is our mutual friend, after all, and he has every right to chase after her.

“Pelchat too? Damn. I’ve got a feeling this guy might be the one distributing the things — might be using Aniya as a mole or something. Dunno yet.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see the man in the grey vest glance in our direction — both of us duck again. His gaze doesn’t seem to linger.

“So yeah,” he continues, “seems like we both mind end up skipping.”

“Seems like it.”

Aniya. She might’ve been involved the entire time without me even noticing. My throat suddenly rubs against itself, dry as a sirocco. I take a sip of water and try to regulate my thumping heart.

“So how we gonna do this?” I ask, clearing my throat.

“Should be done my preliminary snooping by this evening. I’ll stick around a bit to see what this guy’s deal is — I’ve got Felix’s number. Will let you know if there’s anything.”

“Might be better to meet up in person. Electronics can be compromised.”

Gabriel smirks. “You know a thing or two about that, huh?”

“Hey. What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he does a dismissive flip of his hand and looks towards the ocean. “Let’s meet at Pier 3 by... maybe 8?”

The least popular fishing pier. Semi-private, black oceans all around by sundown. “Can do.”

As we finish muttering to each other, Adrian and Felix stumble out of the bathroom. Adrian is ghost-pale in the iridescent light, maybe a little bit too banana-coloured. Felix doesn’t look much better. His unfortunate accident isn’t the most concealed on his beige pants.

“You two, go on ahead,” Gabriel says, slipping on a warm smile. It fits perfectly. “I’ll report back with how this goes.”

Me and Felix walk-stumble outside to the car, somewhat lucid, mostly in the early throes of a food coma. The prior conversation with Gabriel barely seems real — I always knew he was a smart guy, but I never thought he’d have a passing interest in the welfare of his friends.

I still have the white book on my person, a thing that seems to get heavier by the day. While I’d much rather undergo an investigation at my own pace, it seems like this entire damned world has other plans. It all comes back to whatever this book came from; I’ll have to hurry up and narrow it down. If only the enemy would have made my job easy and left an easily identifiable symbol or calling card or something.

“I’m presuming we’re walking,” Felix says, lookingly longingly at the stupid teal car, then back at the still-sitting Gabriel and Adrian.

“Yep. Good way to burn off all that fat.” I make sure the coast is clear before filling Felix in on the details of our private conversation.

He doesn’t seem that surprised by anything we talked about. “What’s the plan, then?”

“Same as before,” I say, rubbing the tiredness out of my eyes. “But now, we meet at the piers tonight. Hope you aren’t afraid of water.”

“...Water sucks.”

“Why’d you become an oceanographer then?”

Felix mumbles something as he follows behind me, but I can’t quite make out his words. Maybe it’s just the wind.

The walk to Ren’s place is half-an-hour long, but it feels much longer than that. My head; my stupid, thick-skulled, barely lucid head is filled with thoughts of those around me. I’m not sure how I completely missed what was going on with Aniya to the point where Gabriel felt like he had to step in, but it sure makes me feel like garbage — a human dumpster filled with rotting old bones and congealed blood.

I never sensed any mana from her, nor did she even have a remote passing interest in the occult. A real mage would never admit their profession, unless seeking to dissuade or deceive. There’s a non-zero percentage that she could be the perpetrator of all the recent events — her hands could’ve easily orchestrated the ambushes, the comas, and the random summons. She has the intellect to adapt and outwit me easily. I can’t even bounce ideas off of Erika — she’s preoccupied with what most definitely are distractors.

I haven’t quite forgotten about the event that got this all started. Felix hired a private investigator to go after me, but he doesn’t seem to be entirely aware of his own actions. He might just be a pawn in all of this — I’d kick my own ass into the ocean if he was the real mastermind. That aside, when I snooped on his phone, I found no traces of any recorded evidence. Nothing at all.

Whoever was telling Felix to do things was very explicit in clearing their tracks. I realized this pretty early on; it’s one of the main reasons I haven't bothered interrogating him. His generally meek personality is hardly suited for any sort of secrecy. Erika even went through his head during the five day coma: there was nothing odd about him.

By all accounts, he is a relatively normal person. But so is Aniya, and I only just learned of her suspicious activities. Goes to show how strong my deductive abilities are.

If Aniya had been playing me this entire time, these entire past eight, maybe nine years, I wouldn’t know what to think. Terrified? Enraged? Bitter? Accepting? Thoughts like these are a slippery slope of paranoia and despair, but the truth at the end of the descent remains the same. If she’s after my bloodline’s legacy, conspiring against innocents, or up to other nasty business, I’ll have to end her life with my own hands.

The mere thought sends a sudden chill down my arms, a brisk shiver through my body. If I couldn’t bring myself to take out Felix when I barely knew him, refuse to abuse Erika like our contract states, how could I possibly take out a lifelong friend like that?

As much as I talk and think big, the act of building up resolve and doing are entirely different. When faced with a choice like that, all I can see is a wall of solid inky black. My heart and thoughts give out whenever I come across the concept of ‘loss.’ I don’t want to lose anything, but the longer I wait, the more the situation degrades, the more I’ll be forced to choose.

Between two ways of life. Between two branching futures. Between expectations. While I’m firmly on the path of a witch, the thought of watching those other options winking out like dying light sends a tremor of anxiety through me, unmatched by anything I’ve ever experienced. But then again, Adrian was experiencing some of the same. So was Aniya. I don’t know what goes through Felix’s messed up head, but I’d imagine something similar for him as well.

Perhaps time and dissociation has numbed the pain, but not even the horrors of what my childhood self experienced comes close. By all logic and reasoning, I should’ve never forgiven Erika. But maybe I’ve just been warped enough to accept everything and move on. Though the magnitudes of tribulation differ, the emotions do not.

Somewhere above, albatrosses circle, crying out their grievances to the noon-day sun. Cars whiz by, ocean shimmers, bright blue, yellow, white, warm colours surround me. The heat is already sweltering, steaming me in my jacket — summer formally starts soon, in just a month’s time. I wish I could fast forward past all of my problems and watch the first sunset, without a care in the world.

For now, I close my eyes and push off the thoughts, quietly hoping my fight won’t come to that kind of head.

Ren’s place is located on 18th and 11th street, a (relatively) high-rise apartment block on the north side of town. Felix gazes at her room from the ground level, staring up six whole stories to a concrete balcony. Even in the industrial side of the city, there are still people out and about, going about their day to day lives.

The front door to the complex, unfortunately, was locked. This is one of those proper complexes with an elevator and buzzer, and neither of them could find any social-based solutions to their problems.

“How’re we going to get up there?” he asks.

Marie points to the fire escape and rolls up her sleeves.

He’s not sure why he expected a different answer.

Ten minutes of struggling later, and they take a short hop from the iron-grated escape onto the balcony itself. There’s a sliding glass door — Marie holds her palm against the handle. A trickle of faint blue leaks from her fingertips as she leans to the side. A sudden pop, a little firecracker goes off, and she slides the door open. This, of course, is one of the least elegant solutions possible, one step above just kicking down the front door.

She seems to notice his ambivalent staring, because she gives him an annoyed glance as she steps in. “What? It’s not like it’d be any different if I used a screwdriver.”

A dark room meets them. A barren, pitiful room, with stacks of empty cans, residue-stained styrofoam cups, and tissues stacked up on the only table in the studio apartment. Three trash bags wait near the front door, yet to be thrown out. There’s a mattress on the ground beside a small TV propped up on a black cabinet, and a stale, mouldy stench coming from several patches on the carpet. Felix hits the light switch, but nothing happens.

“...Jesus,” Marie mutters, stepping past him. She shoves her hands in her pocket and simply stands there. “Just… Jesus.”

Her eyes shine without radiance, as though the green light within refuses to leave. Felix leaves her to her musings and begins poking around the downtrodden apartment.

Ren’s computer is password protected. The keyboard is disproportionately clean from the rest of the desk — he has to push away a stack of oddly bitter smelling cans to even reach the mouse. Same deal with the game console inside the TV cabinet. There’s a meticulously kept collection of cartridges in transparent boxes, and underneath that, a collection of books. Felix recognizes a few of the titles: Ningen Shikkaku, Yukiguni, Strait is the Gate, Haru no Yuki; a collection of novels from last century, none of them particularly bright and cheery. If the care and passion put into these books were applied to the rest of the apartment, it would look like a palace.

Felix finds the white book Marie showed him earlier appended to the end of the collection. He takes it and holds it up — a nub of triangular paper sticks out the side. A pull on the side reveals a postcard sized piece of scratch paper. There’s writing in blue ink, neat and crisp:

i’ll be going away for a little

sorry

A departing note. Felix hands both objects to Marie, who is currently digging through trash. She raises a clear plastic bottle to the note and book, frowning wearily. “Somebody’s been sneaking her booze.”

“Is that what those bottles are?” He looks back at the stacks of cans — no wonder he didn’t recognize any of them.

She plucks the white book from his hand and skims through it. “Yeah. I can definitely see why a girl like this would want to be checked into a big sleep.”

Medication, alcohol, escapism. Anything to find a moment of respite in a miserable, lonely life. “Poor girl,” he says.

“Keep looking. Maybe we’ll find something useful.”

Emotions elude him. As he picks through scraps of a life barely lived, neither pity nor empathy come to him. Not even a sense of hollowness arises — there is only lukewarm knowing. The only valuable note he can find is a small stash of bottles yet to be drunk, a collection of tall, frosted-glass bottles with foreign characters. Sake, maybe.

It seems like a bottle has more worth than he does in the current moment. He should probably find this strange, but he doesn’t. A little nagging sensation does call out to him, yes, but it’s so minute that it may just be a mosquito on his neck. But it’s there, crawling, buzzing, nagging, scratching, digging little hooked feet into his neck, drawing blood of memories.

Maybe this could be a clue. Answers at the bottom of a chilled glass. A start.

“Oi,” Marie calls, looking over her shoulder, “I actually found something. Whaddya know?”

She directs his attention to a small black steel box in a desk drawer. Inside, neat stacks of parchment-thin rectangles of paper. Recorded are transaction numbers, account balances, shop names, and product purchases. Marie thumbs through several stacks, slowly enough to not crinkle them.

“She kept receipts,” Felixes observes.

“Yup. Been looking through them. Lots of liquor stores — probably had a fake ID — shops to the asian mart. Got a place — seems like Ren went to that one bookstore down on second street pretty often.” She cross-references the white book and the slips of paper, but clicks her tongue. “Tch. Damn thing doesn’t even have a title to look up. You find anything useful?”

He raises the bottle of sake in hand, then gestures to the book shelf. Marie frowns. “Those… No. Keep an eye out for anything occult. She was part of the school’s club — must be something around here.”

They both perform one last search, but Felix doesn’t find anything. And judging by the sounds Marie makes, she doesn’t either.

It takes five minutes for both of them to give up. They end up on opposite sides of the room, staring at each other’s general direction. Sounds of city leak in from the broken slide door; horns, wind filtered between buildings, distant seagulls. Somewhere, a hearty laugh between a couple, perhaps lovers. The last sound seems to twist Marie’s expression sour, evoking a frown and frustrated grunt.

“Say,” Marie mutters, “small aside, but could you do me a favour?”

That’s a new one. Never heard her ask for anything without attaching some self-justification to the end before. “What’s up?”

“Assuming either of us are around by time this is all over… lend a hand to Ren, will ya?”

Felix almost asks why. But something stops him, a red line drawn in his mind with an imaginary razor.

It’s only natural to feel empathy to those less fortunate. Marie has stumbled upon snapshots of Ren’s life, but they paint a bleak image, a draining, forlorn existence.

Only natural, Felix supposes.

“Like, there’s only a few weeks left in the year, but maybe… I don’t know, hang out with her. Check in. I know it’s kinda ridiculous to think these thoughts about a person you barely knew, but… it would prevent future situations like this.”

“I don’t see what makes this girl special,” Felix muses, looking away. “There are plenty just like her. Plenty in worse situations.”

She scowls at his words. “I know. I know, alright? That’s why I said it was ridiculous in the first place — don’t psychoanalyze me the meaning of justice and salvation. Save that for somebody who needs it. Just do me this one favour, alright?”

Rejection via emotions. How very much like her. “I’ll try.”

“Thanks. Again, I guess.” Marie casts one last gaze around the room, then dusts her hands clean. “Righty-ho, off to the bookstore it is, then.”

That’s his cue to abscond outta here. He waits for Marie to leave first, and since he suddenly remembers there were twins to sate, he makes a mental note to pay Ren back as he swipes another sake bottle on the way out.