~ Chapter 10 ~

I stared at Satsuya, my breath held tight as those icy eyes glowed, and my pulse raged with a mixture of fear and anticipation.

I hadn’t expected his coffee mug to crash to the ground and break. I hadn’t expected him to be surprised—shocked, maybe?—that I was from the Second Sector. Even if I had expected it, I would never have imagined this kind of reaction.

But maybe it shouldn’t have been surprising. Sector Sixty-Eight, where we were now, wasn’t exactly the most poverty-stricken place in the world, but it was far from the creme of society. Plenty of people—Uni and Typpe alike—envied those who lived in the top ten sectors of the world (maybe even the top twenty). And for Uni, who were on the rarer side in the First through Fifth Sectors, unless you were Silver Bullet or Sonic Ray, it was probably a battle not to be seething with jealousy at the thought of where I had lived.

Had lived.

I wasn’t welcome there anymore; I would be a laughingstock in those streets, treated with contempt. The only way I could regain my life was to find a way to crawl back to the top of the bestseller’s list and seal my lips shut so I never said a stupid thing again.

But was that even an option now? My lack of speaking filter aside, I had a group of fanatical Uni chasing after me—well, chasing after Satsuya, and me as an extension. My future wasn’t guaranteed at this point, let alone my professional life.

If that gleam behind Satsuya’s glasses meant anything, my death may not be far behind.

“I—I guess I should have told you I was from the Second Sector.” I squeaked out the words, unable to look away; that glowing gaze was as magnetic as it was terrifying.

Satsuya blinked, and the aura of hostility around him dimmed as he noticed my fear.He leaned back against the counter with his arms crossed, and I hated that I couldn’t read what the twist in his expression meant. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you. It’s not your fault. I mean, we did just meet.” Shaking his head, he bent to pick up the pieces of his broken mug, his ebony hair falling forward to shield those icy-white eyes. “You just—you surprised me. The Second Sector is—” his hand tightened in what looked like reflex, and the shards he had picked up crunched beneath his grip. He took in a measured breath before straightening, still not looking at me. “It must be a shocking change for you.” He finished, changing the subject while allowing it to remain the same.

My mouth fell open and closed several times as I willed the hairs on the back of my neck to settle. “It is a big change. I’m terrified—crazy Uni aside.” I hope he knew I didn’t mean him. “It’s not like I wanted to leave. My family—well, they disowned me.” Sudden tears pricked at my eyes, and I lamented my empty coffee mug as sorrow welled.

How could it still hurt to think about? It had been weeks since my parents finally snubbed me, since my friends had told me they never wanted to see me again and my ex called me up just to say how pathetic I was. It wasn’t as if I hadn’t seen it coming; no one in our corner of the world would continue to support, let alone love, someone who had fallen from social grace. Instead of hoping those close to me would somehow prove an exception to the rule, I had been holding my breath waiting for the moment when everything in front of me would vanish.

An invisible string pulled at my center as Satsuya finally looked back at me, a twist of pain marring his features, as if he couldn’t help but feel what I felt. “Of course you’re still upset. Why wouldn’t you be?” He murmured, as if he had heard my thoughts.

I wanted to ask how a near-stranger could know so much about me, but I lacked the strength at the moment. The words were heavy on my tongue—too heavy to even say. In fact, an invisible weight pressed on my entire body, rendering me a human form of lead.

I imagined what I would look like as a statue—and shook my head at the distracting image.

“It’s not like I’m angry with them. It wouldn’t do any good.” I bit the words out, and my fingers twitched against my empty coffee mug. Satsuya noticed, and quietly took the mug from me to refill it. Somehow, it was easier to talk with his back suddenly facing me—as if I were talking to myself.

Without anything to grasp onto, my hands balled to fists. “I was pretty much a failure to begin with. Do you know how it works in the Second Sector? You must, if you had that look on your face.” I continued, the words coming faster. “Even if you do everything you can to not break any rules—and I did; believe me, I did—you’re judged by how well you can perform. And if your performance falls beneath a certain level, they can’t afford to extend pity.”

It wasn’t like back in the old days, before the Greatest War. Back then, we were told, people judged one another for every little thing, regardless of how meaningless the judgement might be. Now, no one cared what your skin looked like or where you came from, so long as you measured up to The One’s ideals: your body must be able to perform in a certain way; you must dress in a certain way; you must speak in a certain way; you must earn a certain amount and perform a certain type of work, depending on where you lived. You could move to whatever sector you wanted and succeed, if you met the right standard; you could move from the Ninety-Ninth Sector to the Second, and so long as you were successful, there would be no scorn or even mention of your past. Gone were things like multiple languages and cultures—things that had caused strife and frustration—but there were still rules.

Of course there were still rules. Without rules, there was no order—and therefore, there was chaos. But at times, in my darkest thoughts, I still felt stifled by all of the rules I could not seem to help but break.

Sometimes, when I saw how similar everyone was, I even longed for something I couldn’t name.

“I tried. I really did.” I continued, shaking. I could see nothing now—nothing but the surface of the table and the memory of my own past. “I made something for myself. I was loved. But then...I made a mistake. I’m an author, and I wrote something I shouldn’t have; a few things, really. Nothing that The One wouldn’t approve of, but nothing that was interesting. So readers stopped reading, and I lost favor...and here I am now. If I can find a way to become a bestseller again, I think I can return home, but...”

But there were doubts—so many doubts.

I didn’t have a story. I was running out of time. I barely had the confidence to write at all.

Not to mention the whole insane Uni thing.

But I was having fun writing about what happened outside my window last night, the thought struck me, as if I had sat typing years ago rather than earlier that day.

My mug, now filled with coffee-scented goodness, was placed in front of me, drawing me back to the real world. This time, the design in the drink’s white foam was leaf-shaped, reminding me of traditional art my grandmother had somehow managed to keep, and had once shown me: a clover with four leaves instead of three.

My eyes traveled from the mug up to Satsuya, who wore a contemplative expression. The icy white was mostly gone from his gaze, but a faint glow echoed from behind his glasses all the same. “I think the only way to really lose is to quit.” He said. “Your goal may take time—it may take your entire life, or you may never even reach it—but it’s still worth fighting for. You might even find it changes over time. But as long as you’re working and moving forward, you can be proud. You don’t have to be perfect.”

He withdrew his hand from my mug, appearing almost shy as he stepped back and looked away. “But we all have our struggles. The Uni society is very similar to the one you came from, only in a different way.” He scowled, and a hint of glowing white returned.

I reached for my coffee as I said, “Satsuya...what is the Conscious?”

It was the first time I had said his name, and yet there was a familiarity behind it, just like when he had called me Ivy.