◣ AB❈ AETERNO ✁ -- IC ❜

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[from eternity]

10am, on March 24, 2014.
Tokyo, Japan.

[SketchyGengar]

Lee Mee-Yon had once mused- once asked the men and women of Hanwha Group, in fact, whether one could truly assign a number to a life. She spoke with a voice glowing in the color of enthusiasm and though no one dared to admit it, everyone at that dinner in a fit of hubristic stupor secretly thought yes. The delivery of that line alone could have been what sealed the deal for the first female CFO of a Korean financial group. It was in that lavish grand ballroom of COEX, the largest convention center in all of Seoul, that the executive middle aged men and women of the business world felt reassured that they had made the right choice in giving Mee-Yon the position. So mellow was the atmosphere that most had probably failed to acknowledge that her words were only allegorical. Mee-Yon, herself, was included. In reality, life was not something quantifiable at all. It did what it wanted to; it acted through it's own capricious vagaries. No number and certainly no price could be put on something so quintessentially unpredictable. So a year ago, when Lee Mee-Yon began her speech at her own inauguration dinner, she was already wrong. The world had, up to that point, always been more than a number and continued to be afterwards. And Lee Mee-Yon, the promising new CFO of Hanwha? From the ashes of the few bones that were recovered from her accident, she suddenly seemed so much less than number.

- T minus 30 minutes -

Lee Hyeon-Jun awoke to the lifelessly dull ping overhead and was immediately greeted with an uncomfortable chill. Apparently, the price tag of flying first class was not enough justify anything more than a paper thin blanket colored an ugly maroon. Above him, the flashing icon depicting a seat belt continued it's pinging as if passive aggressively nudging Hyeon-Jun. He slowly sat up in his seat and glanced at the flashy watch on his right wrist. Beyond the intermittent seatbelt warnings though, it seemed nothing had changed in the past thirty minutes he had been asleep for. The burning soreness around his eyes had held testament to that. Hyeon-Jun wondered if they were still as puffy as they had looked in the mirror that morning.

Over the usual hum of the plane turbines, he could hear that the two men in front of him were still having the same conversation they were having before. Everyone in the first class cabin seemed to have the same entire that morning. Middle aged men fully clad in suits complete with tie clips and cuff links looking important strewn the ten or so seats in the cabin. Past their superficial discussions of politics and finance, Hyeon-Jun wondered if there was even anyone not too self involved to notice him enough to warrant him hiding his eyes. More disconcerting was the pain that came from the hours of abuse of tears and tissue paper. No, even worse the fact that he was now his only immediate family. Lee couldn't help but recall how often he would tell his clients how unlikely aircraft accidents were. “Stuff like that barely factors in,” he would laugh off with a facade of general warmth, “usually we just factor in health habits and exposure to more common environmental hazards.” In truth, he always felt a sense of annoyance as if he felt people were stupid to expect him to include plane accidents in a cursory risk analysis. Perhaps this was punishment. How else does one explain why this had happened to him?

He absentmindedly glanced at his watch again, not really absorbing in the time. One week. That seemed too short of a time. Just one week ago, his mother and father were still alive, poking fun at him through the phone as they were preparing for their business trip. Only a day after, he received the devastating phone call that the personal jet had erupted into flames mid-flight. The assistants and the doctors had gone into more detail but at that point, Hyeon-Jun didn't quite have the mental fiber to stay attentive. Jun used to think that a week was only one hundred and sixty eight hours minus thirty five hours for sleep. Since he was still starting out in his position, vacation days were a privilege and so he always thought a week off of work yielded just too little time. Now, he couldn't take his thoughts off the amount of hours his parents had just lost off their lives. His mind ran numbers nonstop if only to take it's attention off the grief that rested deep in his chest.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. In about thirty minutes, we will begin our descent to Tokyo, Japan. However, the winds are beginning to pick up so expect some turbulence. We'd like to advise everyone to try and stay in their seats and keep the seat belts on. Once again, we thank you for choosing to fly with us today and we will do our best to make this landing a smooth one.”

That's right, Hyeon-Jun remembered. Tokyo, Japan. The weekend passed by so quickly. Tomorrow he would have to drag himself back to the office and deal with the usual mindless grind. On top of that, tomorrow began at 5 o' clock sharp followed by a prompt Q & A in the office about the funeral. And then came the uncomfortable bout of people offering their condolences pretending not to do it out of social obligation. The young man let out an exasperated sigh as he leaned back down on his seat, turning his gaze to the window. The view was still obscured by clouds but Hyeon had already returned to his preoccupation. What would be a time, he asked himself, to tell his more distant friends and acquaintances. Kyo in particular always seemed to make it a habit of asking about his family life and Jun felt a small bit of anxiety in anticipation of their next meeting. He was fairly content with just grieving inside himself for now and he wished that the world would let him do at least that. Yet he knew, immediately upon his return there would be too many probing and intrusive questions.
Sometimes Lee Hyeon-Jun wished he could take himself back. He wondered what life would have been like if he didn't follow his parents footsteps into business. If he had given himself more time to do other things instead of worrying about the proper road. For a moment he felt guilty about it but perhaps this was all carthartic. Perhaps now that he was alone without a family, he wouldn't have to deal with the constant pressure of having to lead a successful life. Up until now, Hyeon had barely given it much thought about his own freedom. To him, life had just been a series of steps you did and if you had followed through, you would be considered important. He bit the inside of his mouth gently in thought, stirring a bit in his seat. Lee Hyeon-Jun had made a breakthrough. He was determined to feel freedom. If life was going to throw misfortune in his face then he was going to confront it and come out of it more experienced. He had always repressed himself out of obligation and now, he began to question why. Maybe when he got back home, he would try to let loose a little. His lips twisted up into a dull half smile at the silver lining.

The obnoxious ping overheard came again.

Only this time it came with an accompanying rumble. Turbulence, he was sure. Yet, for some reason Hyeon-Jun had the lurking feeling that it wasn't. Statistically there was very little to worry about. But statistically, his parents should have been alive right now. If he were a client, he would have smiled and wrote traveling by plane as something with close to zero risk. But he wasn't a client. And finally, having already been mentally prepared to break away from the confidence of equations and spreadsheets, Lee Hyeon-Jun unbuckled his seat belt and stood up in his seat.

The overhead lights went dark.

[second day sea]

“I should’ve told you this a long time ago…”

He stared right through her, now hardly listening though he was putting up a pretty good show. Ever since she had said those dreaded words (“we need to talk”), he could feel his mind just starting to fray around the edges and slip away.

“—but don’t get me wrong! I love you, I really did-do, I do love you—“

He could have filled in the rest for her. Things had run their course, they always did. It wasn’t a surprise, nor was it especially distressing. She was hitting her groove now, the lines became a little more clichéd and she had started to cry. He felt a surge of pity and reached out to cover her hand with his. She hiccupped, and he pulled her into a compassionate, understanding hug. It would be a mutual breakup, they’d treasure the happy memories and move on to find the real loves of their lives.

At least, that was how he would have liked it to go. It started out the same, (“Kyo-chan, we need to talk”), but somewhere along the way the roles got reversed and he was left holding himself, trying in vain to keep from crying. It had been a surprise and had been distressing. It played soccer with his heart. It tore his insides to shreds. Simply looking out the window was no option; bright pink bouquets lined all of the streets and everywhere there was so much…happiness it was driving him insane. It drew a rope of bruises around his neck and threatened to strangle him.

He gave himself a headache trying to keep it altogether, a severe pain starting somewhere between his eyes and making it hard to think. If he could redo anything, he would have told Yesterday-Kyo to indulge and go buy that tub of ice cream that he had decided against. He had cried the first day, and the second. Maybe there was even a shed tear on the third. But by now, he was all empty and struggling to catch up with the demands of life. There was a strange black hollowness in the pit of his stomach, sucking up his energy until he didn’t even have the energy to summon a tear. In a sense, it was all thanks to Jun. Out of the darkness following the breakup with his childhood sweetheart, came the most horrible thought he could possibly dream up.

At least my family didn’t die.

The flooding of guilt made him start to tear up all over again, but the thought itself was such a relief that he already felt a little less…broken. His misery was not so deep after all; She had said she wanted to remain friends and go back to how they were in their childhood. That of course, wouldn’t be likely, but he was allowed to hope right?

As was the standard, Azuma Kyo had no visitors save for requests from his father’s henchlings or surprise visits from his mother between her various hobbies and social circle outings. He had managed to avoid terribly long calls ever since the tumultuous breakup—no Mother, it’s just my allergies acting up, and, I’ve had so much work recently I’m just very tired, but he knew she was getting suspicious. In a last ditch attempt to divert her, he had called again upon his savior in the dark and fed her an excuse he knew she would bite.

“I’m going to greet Jun—Hyeon-jun at the airport tomorrow. I’m sorry, I’m still very busy with a job right now—”

“Oh, so you’ve heard. Well, I’m a bit relieved! Good boy. Convey your father’s condolences, and be sure to offer our help if at all—“

“Mother…”

“Yes, but the poor child…enough of your drawing on maps—” She paused, realizing she had gone too far. He seized the opportunity.

“Mother, I’m sorry, I have a very important order to take care of right now. I need to finish before tomorrow.” He ended there with a terse silence. In the pause, he could just hear the unsaid words she wanted to say, but he had hastily said his goodbyes and hung up before she could interrupt again.



Now, he stared at himself in the mirror and gave his cheeks a couple more slaps to bring some life into them. He had gotten significantly less presentable thanks to his hibernation during the past week. A little shadow around the eyes and an unseemly scruff to his chin. He didn’t think anyone would notice.

He grimaced at the thought of venturing back to civilization. It would be his first mandatory outing since She left him, since the midnight treks to the convenience store for chips and microwave bento hardly counted.

Now he was dressed in one of his plentiful tailored suits, complete with cufflinks and all. For some reason, putting on his daily uniform was almost a comfort. He already felt a little bit more in control of his life. Jun would appreciate that, he decided.

Now, he had work to do.

[malurus coronatus]

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

When Ian had woken up earlier that morning, it had been over an hour late and everything had felt slightly off. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was that was making him feel that way though. A couple of the kids in his class had been out sick last week, so it was possible he’d picked up one of the bugs that tended to travel through the class. However, he contemplated, it didn’t quite feel like any cold he’d had before. It was not as if he’d woken up disoriented, or with that awful snuffly feeling he usually did when he woke up sick. Rather, it felt like his skin was itching, or stretched tight, or something. In the end, Ian had dismissed the strange feeling and went about getting ready for work. On the bright side, his students would be with the P.E. teacher first, so his being late wouldn't matter. Still, before he left, he made sure to take a couple of Advil just in case.

The commute to the school passed slowly, as per usual. However, Ian contented himself with a seat by one of the entrances to the cart, listening to Disney music, and reading a book to pass the time. As the train pulled into another station, Ian sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Unlike most days, Ian had skipped the part of his routine where he put wax in it, so it fell back in to place rather than remaining in the position he'd pushed it into. Actually, Ian had skipped much of his normal routine because of the waking up late thing, forgoing his contacts for glasses and putting on a rumpled sweater. Ian was sure the school would not care too much about his messier than normal appearance. After all, he was still technically professionally dressed, and there were only a couple months before the year ended.

Ian had been about the turn the page of his book when he’d got the feeling he was being watched. He turned his gaze away from the book, trying to figure out whose pair of eyes were on him. It turned out the offenders were a pair of students from the high school that his own school was affiliated with. They were definitely late for their classes. He blinked at them owlishly for a moment, unsure why they were scrutinizing him, before quickly looking away when the girls giggled. Pushing up the bridge of his glasses, he did his best to concentrate upon the words on page rather than the heat in his ears or the fact that the girls were still staring.

Thirty minutes later, a changeover and a walk later and Ian arrived at the school. There was still about half an hour before his class began, which meant there was time to get coffee from the staffroom. Which was good, because Ian was feeling slightly worse than when he’d woken up. Yawning, he pushed his way into the classroom and smiled at the co-workers who were present. ”Mornin’,” he greeted with a wave and cheery smile, though the weird feeling from this morning was back.

The others in the room gave varying responses, from grunts of recognition to full responses. Pulling out a mug from one of the cupboards at the back, Ian began to pour himself a drink when someone hip-checked him. Thankfully he had avoided spilling any of the burning liquid on himself, though some did manage to find its way onto the counter. “Hey you,” came the familiar voice of the school nurse. “You’re running late today. Usually you get in early, even when your kids have P.E.”

Ian picked up his coffee and took a deliberate sip before turning his attention to Raymond. “Yeah,” he responded, leaning back against the counter. “I woke up late and feeling a bit off.”

Raymond responded with a vague humming sound, so Ian took another sip of coffee, closing his eyes. Normally he’d add cream and sugar, but he felt like the additions would only make him feel worse. He jangled his leg a little, twitching it back and forth as if he were impatient for something, a habit he swore he'd grown out of when he first started university. He was startled once more when a warm hand touched his forehead. Cracking one eye opened, he peered at his friend questioningly.

“Well, you don’t appear to have a temperature,” the older man concluded. ”You should take care though. Sleep more. Goodness knows enough of the children get sick that we don’t need an adult passing more germs around.”

Ian fought the urge to roll his eyes. He’d already known that. “It’s fine. Probably nothing, though I did take some Advil” he said, tilting his head towards Raymond and waving off his friend’s concern with his free hand. “Besides, spring break is happening soon. I’ll get some rest then.” He was about to push himself away from the counter but paused mid-motion when the world went black for a second. Oh. That probably wasn’t good. Between all the preparations he'd been doing for parent teacher interviews last week, Eri's birthday this past weekend, and a hundred other things, he really hadn't gotten much sleep lately.

Raymond gave an exasperated sigh. “You shouldn’t have come in today. Go to my office and sleep on the couch. The beds in the infirmary are a bit small for you. I’ll cover your class for you since Hailey is supposed to be in today as well. What’re you teaching them now? Fish? Maki-chan?”

Ian pinched the bridge of his nose and reached back with his hand to place the mug on the counter. “No, we finished that unit up last week. They’re just doing classroom activities today. Working on their story book. Math book exercises. Reading buddies this afternoon. Was going to discuss spring break plans with them” Ian closed his eyes tightly and exhaled deeply, not bothering to shrug Raymond off when Raymond started leading him out of the staffroom at to the infirmary.

”Thanks for this,” he muttered, slumping onto the couch and undoing his tie. He was grateful his friend was taking care of him and covering for him, but he felt a bit forlorn that he might not get to see his kids today. With how tired he was suddenly feeling though, Ian had doubts he’d see his students today. Which was unfortunate since Spring Break was fast approaching. He also felt vaguely pathetic having his friend have to take care of him like this. Ian was an adult now, not a kid.

Still, it was sort of nice having someone worry about him like this. It had been a while. ”There’s a glass of water on the table and some medicine for when you wake up. I’ll bring some lunch around if you aren’t up or feeling better by then. Now get some sleep.”

[shiny ponkan]

5 AM sharp, and her alarm clock began to wail obnoxiously.

She rolled over and flung it across the room, where it bounced several times before coming to a rolling halt on the ground next to her.

Good thing her alarm clock was made explicitly for this habit. With approximately the size, shape, and appearance of a baseball but much lighter and made from a cushy material, it could only be turned off by a good hard throw that sent adrenaline pumping through the thrower.

And good thing there was nothing set out in the small room except her futon. She had gotten into the habit of putting everything away neatly into the built-in closets before bed, as she had broken way too many things already.

She crawled out from under the blankets and staggered to the washroom, splashed cold water on her face and neck to wake herself up. She looked in the mirror briefly, took in the disheveled sight, pondered whether it was worth the effort, then sighed and began untangling her hair.

Twenty minutes later, she slung her messenger bag over her torso, slid her headphones over her ears, and yanked the door to her apartment shut. Hearing the door lock automatically, she instinctively reached up to her neck, finding her keys hanging safely on the lanyard. The hallway was relatively quiet for once, someone having remembered to shut the window. One of her neighbors was usually up at this time as well, but it seemed they would not bumping into each other this morning. She paused at his door, a thought of him briefly passing through her head, before she headed down the stairs, and with the beat of Nujabes, briskly walked the four blocks to the jazz records shop that doubled as a hip cafe, where she had been working at since coming to Waseda five years ago.

Professor Sagawa of the Environmental Research Institute would be out of town for the week though, so things were different starting today. She had made a deal with the manager, to work a few extra hours every day this week, in return for the ability to DJ those extra shifts. She was looking forward to this, and to the extra free time as well, something that only appeared once in a blue moon.

The bells at the side door chimed harmoniously as she entered. “Yo, Sayaka. Always here before me, how do you do it?” She called out at her coworker, a slightly older and definitely plumper woman with an eye for fashion and a talent for trumpet. Sayaka merely winked at her before turning back to the register, the pen in her mouth inhibiting her from speaking.

She dropped her bag and headphones off in her locker in the backroom, tied her apron and rolled her long hair dyed a peachy pink orange into a loose bun as she let out a yawn. In the mornings her job was to set up the equipment, to get the machines running for the long day of coffee-making ahead, then the floors wiped and the chairs brought down from the tables, all before six, when the front door was unlocked and earliest early birds wandered in for their first cup.

As the cuckoo announced eight, she waved at Sayaka and walked to the back, pulling out her phone. Within seconds, it vibrated furiously, as usual.

“Haha-ue, I told you like thirty times already, I don’t want a matchmaking session.” She said, trying to keep her language formal, but her exasperation was noticeable.

“You shouldn’t take such a tone with your mother, Etsuko.”

She flinched visibly when she heard his voice. “Chichi-ue.”

Her father continued, voice gruff and matter-of-fact. “Takahashi-san informed me he will be in Tokyo today, so I gave him permission to take you to dinner. Tell your manager you can’t work tonight, and be presentable when he comes to pick you up at six.”

She said nothing, simply waiting for him to continue, or hang up. They both knew she would have to do as he said. It had always been that way. After a prolonged silence, he sighed.

“Etsuko. I have given you free reign enough. You are already twenty-two.”

Another pause, and she bit her lip.

“I will call you again tonight.”

He hung up, and she sank to the floor, sudden waves of exhaustion washing over her.

Sayaka peeked in from the doorway. “Etsuko-chan, you okay? We need you back here in the front.”

She nodded, pushed herself back up, tried her best to smile at her concerned friend. “Yeah. I’m okay.”

Ten minutes before nine, she settled down at the desk on the other side, popped a CD into the player and her headphones on her ears. Chick & Hiromi, one of her favorite live duet recordings. Business on this side was slow as always, which was fine with her, because the waves of exhaustion kept coming back. Talking to her dad had always been tiring, but never like this. She swayed with the relaxing piano intro and the dizzying waves. Was there something wrong with her? Was she sick? She laid her head down, resting her cheek against the wood, reassured by its coolness and scent, and promptly passed out.

[synthetic heartbeat]

Upon waking up, as soon as her eyes blinked themselves open, revealing deep green eyes, Sabine could tell that it was going to be a bad day. Not, she reflected in an internally grumbling dialogue, that there were good days, exactly, in Juneau, Alaska. But there were okay days, and then there were bad days. Though a part of her wanted to bury her face back into her pillow and pull the blanket over her head, like an ostrich, the other part of her screamed restlessly, tugging at her toes, then her feet, then her legs, until she rolled out of bed, rubbing her eyes. It was time to get up and do things, not laze around in bed. She cast her gaze towards her clock, and the digits that met her eyes drew a mumbled curse out of her lips. Damn, that late already? Sabine liked to be an early riser, liked to race—and beat—the sun to the day, because to spend any more time sleeping felt, to her, a waste. Yet here she was, with only an hour until her first class of the day, and an afternoon class at that. She couldn't help but sneer to herself that she had indeed been correct in predicting that it would be a bad day.

The petite young woman hopped into the shower and then back out as quickly as possible, dressing and then leaving her house as she simultaneously dragged a brush through her dark red hair and stomped her combat boots on. As usual the neighbor's husky stared out at her from the nearby window, regarding her scrambled multi-tasking with piercing blue eyes. Sabby winked at the dog as she passed by. It had become a habitual custom between the two—the husky would see her off and she would wink in passing as she began the trek into the city from the outskirts, where her father's and the neighbor's houses were located.

Eight chilly minutes later, she took a seat at the wooden bus stop bench. An obligatory glance was cast towards the schedule, but she already knew it by heart: the bus taking her into the heart of the city would show in about fifteen minutes. As Sabine sat, she found herself growing lightheaded. She caught herself swaying, and shook her head, frowning. "What the hell," she muttered.

Attributing the lightheadedness to sleepiness, which was really inexcusable given how late she'd woken up, the redhead pulled out her phone, popped her earphones in, and began listening to music, trying to stave off the grips of sleep. Take me to the docks, there's a ship without a name there... Despite her efforts, however, her consciousness became increasingly dimmer, the cold duller, and her eyelids heavier. And it is sailing to the middle of the sea. With what felt to her a monumental effort, she fought her eyes open and checked the time on her phone. Yet another six minutes to go before the bus would arrive. The water there is deeper— It began to snow. —than anything you've ever seen— Sabine's breaths became longer, slower, deeper. —jump right in— Her grip on her phone loosened slightly. —and swim— Music continued to play in her ears, lulling her further into unconsciousness. —until you're free. Her eyes fluttered shut.

From somewhere not too far away, the bus was approaching, but Sabine would not be awake to catch it.

[hyperion blue]

The headache hit near the end of her shift, just as she was refilling a customer's glass. The sudden wave of dizziness surged out of nowhere, and she almost spilled the water. As it was, Sabrina was just barely able to lock her muscles and only filled the glass a bit more than was probably appropriate. The customer didn't notice, simply bringing the glass to his lips as she muttered something pleasant sounding and backed off. Hannah gave her a weird look as she passed, concern flickering over her face when she forced a smile and gave a quick shake of her head. Sabrina could feel the older woman's gaze on her retreating back, but then she turned a corner and the other waitress went back to work. A muscle in her cheek twitched as she blinked rapidly, trying to clear her mind. She could almost feel herself slow down, feel her mind turn to mud like there was a stupid wall blocking her from her thoughts.

"Sabrina, you okay?" Carol. She tried to fake a smile, but the other girl rolled her eyes and leaned in, peering up at her face. "s**t, you don't look so good. Sure you're not sick?"

"'m fine. Don't worry." Pushing past, she almost made it to the kitchen before Carol called after her.

"Hey. Just. Take it easy for once, okay? We're almost closed, anyway, and I can take an extra table if you're not feeling great."

"...thanks."

Sabrina kept going, heading into the kitchen to pick up the slice of cake table C15 had ordered, along with the ice cream requests from the table next to them. Her hand trembled slightly, but she made herself keep moving. She couldn't crash. She couldn't. Not when she'd finally gotten Manager to give her a few more shifts. She had to keep going, had to prove that she could handle so many shifts. She'd almost reached 7k, and there were only a few more months to go before she had to pay Lily's tuition. So she worked as many hours as possible, in the hopes of scrounging up the last few thousand. After the bills were paid, of course. The thought of bills made her grimace. It wasn't Dad's fault, really. And tuition would be higher than what she would've paid... but then, she'd been offered a full scholarship. Unlike... unlike Lily...

Shaking the thought out of her mind, she brought the desserts to the appropriate tables, serving them with a smile that was a bit too strained, but no one actually paid that much attention to the waitress. Well, the mother at table C13 had a sharp eye, but she was fussing over the youngest. Time ticked by. Tick tick tick. The sound was driving her insane, making her head throb in time to the hand on the clock. She moved mechanically, bringing cheques to the last two tables in her section and systematically cleaning up. Tick tick tick, until she wasn't sure if she was hearing the clock or her heartbeat anymore. A hand landed on her shoulder and she jumped, only for Carol to flash a sympathetic smile and hand over the dustpan. Only then did she realize she'd been scrubbing at the same spot for God knows how long.

Her tables cleaned up, Sabrina wiped her hands and headed for the staff lockers, after making a detour to grab a glass of water. Thankfully she had some advil in her messenger bag, and the bottle found itself into her hand with only a brief moment's rummaging. Her phone rang, and Sabrina ignored it, throwing back the glass of water and the advil. According to the bottle, it was okay if she took two, and hopefully "extra strong" meant that it'd kick in faster. A pause, and she squinted at the label on the bottle. Oh. Advil fever reducer. Whoops.

...it'd still work, right? She wasn't running a fever, but for all she knew her system would crash. No harm done, she supposed, but her headache was really getting worse. It'd only been a minute, but Sabrina was already impatiently waiting for the meds to kick in and make it go away.

Her phone rang, more insistently this time. With an annoyed growl, she slammed her locker door open, rummaging inside for her phone as it shrieked some catchy theme that was just pissing her off even more. Without looking at the caller ID, she rammed her thumb on the flashing green button.

"What," she snarled.

"Sis? You okay?" At the familiar voice Sabrina sighed, tension disappearing as she slumped against the locker, phone pressed to her ear.

"It's nothing. Don't worry about it. Why're you calling? Is something wrong?" A sudden thought made her heart jump into her throat. "I-is it Dad?"

"What? No! It's. Um... I'm really sorry, but I just realized that I'm actually down a reference for my essay, and the prof wants marked up photocopies. I can't find it online for some reason and..." A pause, followed by a nervous giggle. She could almost picture Lily holding the phone slightly away from her ear, like she was going to shout like that angry friend of hers.

"It's kinda due tomorrow, and Dad just got home so... There's a lot of bookstores near your work place?"

"Lily, it's eleven thirty. Even if I could find a place, they might not even be open."

"Just. I'm really sorry, 'brina. But I really need this and-- please?" Her sister sounded so meek and pitiful she couldn't help but sigh, resigned.

"Fine. Text me the details and I'll try to find a copy."

"Yess! Thank you so much! I swear I'll make it up to you!"

Shaking her head and wincing at the spike of pain that caused, stupid advil didn't kick in yet, Sabrina changed out of her uniform and tucked her phone in her back pocket. Normally she didn't have any problem with being out so late, but she had a splitting headache and a full day shift tomorrow. She tugged on her jacket, thumbing through her phone for directions to the nearest open bookstore. Nearly everything around her was closed, but according to her phone there was a small place about ten minutes away on foot.

"Sabrina?" She paused, hand on the door, and turned. The manager gave her a look, then signed and shook his head. "Get some rest if you're not feeling well, alright? And give me a call if you don't feel better in the morning." Dammit, Carol.

"Y-yeah. No worries." She gave what she knew was a strained smile and walked out, relaxing as the first breath of cold air hit her lungs. It felt sort of nice, in a lonely kind of way. The streets were far from empty, but everyone minded their own business, and she managed to walk an entire block before her headache got to the point where her vision blurred.

Another wave of dizziness, and then the world went black.

AB505E

[The Ducko]

Kaylee sat up abruptly, pushing aside the sheet and scrambling to find a piece of paper and pen. It was still dark outside. The theorem was clear in her mind now, but it was racing ahead without her, spiralling fast and faster. It went far beyond her initial understanding. She could see all the pieces falling into place. Her heart raced as she stumbled out into the living room, taking a left into the study and rummaging through drawers. Ren’s apartment was clinical and bare, with no sign of his academic pursuits. Kaylee gripped a notebook and pen, dropping to the floor to sit cross legged and try to catch up with the formula unravelling in her head. She scribbled like that for a few hours, totally absorbed in the work.

Ren was a professor of hers. He was the leading expert in biochemistry, and not unlike other professors, felt himself drawn to her raw intellect. He had everything material he could want, but she offered him something more interesting. In her he saw all the unbridled passion he once had for science, but also the talent he desperately wished he possessed. That was why, despite her many and unpredictable flaws, he had taken a personal interest in her, and tried to influence her learning. The sex was incidental and often unsatisfying, but it meant that she spent fewer nights alone. She had no friends to speak of, with the occasional acquaintance that put up with her because of her usefulness. Eventually she would learn all she could from him and she would leave before he started to get resentful of her progress as they always did.

Footsteps drew her out of her intense concentration – he had arrived home. The clip clop of high heels on his wooden floor proclaimed he had brought a companion. Slightly curious, she finished writing the last of the theorem and slid the pen behind her ear. Gathering up the paper, she peeked her head around the corner to the living room. Ren was there, lips locked with a young woman who she recognised from one of her classes. She felt a slight pang, but its origin was selfish and irrational so she dismissed it.

“Hi,” she said, walking out as she pulled her sweater over her head.

“Oh, Kaylee… You’re still here-” Ren started, standing rigid. He didn’t know how she would react and the colour was quickly draining from his face as he thought over the possibilities. He had gone away for two days and had said she could stay for awhile. She ended up prolonging her visit, it was a nice place after all.

“Yep,” she said, pulling her hair into clumsy pigtails and grabbing her bag from the counter, stuffing the papers and pen into it.

“Is that Crazy K?” The girl asked, perplexed.

“That’s what they call me,” she replied, walking past the pair towards the door.

“What are you doing here?” she asked incredulously, obviously not all there upstairs. Kaylee paused at the door, looked back at Ren’s pleading face, and spoke clearly and calmly.

“******** Ren, and stealing his stationary,” as she walked out, she heard Ren’s desperate plees. What surprised her was that he actually followed her out into the hall.

“Kaylee wait- I’m sorry- C’mon- Kaylee!” He yelled after her, but she only pulled her headphones over her ears and turned up the volume. She sprinted down the stairs and out into the lobby, getting disdainful looks from the staff. She was used to it though; she trained herself not to notice it. Once out on the streets, she bustled through the crowded streets until she found a suitable alleyway to divert into. There she reached into her bag and pulled out two drops of Sunshine, swallowing them dry and fishing through the junk in her bag for some money. After she had acquired coffee and three cans of assorted energy drinks, she made her way across town. Tokyo was alive and buzzing, and she smiled at the way the light mixed and bloomed. The acid was well into her system as she approached the library, standing outside staring at the door. She stood frozen for twenty minutes, watching the poster on the door swirl, and listened to the dog’s mouth whisper. Upon recovering, she took in a breath and pressed on, picking up the textbooks she needed and making a bee line for her usual spot. She cracked open an energy drink; the library staff had given up on stopping her.

She studied like that for quite some time, feeling her head buzz and watching her hands flash in front of her. Where she sat was right at the back of the library – in a nook where no one ever went. It was great. Occasionally people would come up to her – usually first years that had been dared or wanted to prove something- and she would ignore them until they became too problematic. When that time came, she would throw books at them. There was a while where she actually kept books she didn’t need for that very purpose.

Despite this, the library was a generally safe place for her. She could connect with people here, people that had written about interesting things; sometimes years ago, sometimes last week. People who might not think she was crazy- people she might be able to have conversations with. That was why she slept with old professors, but that had been largely disappointing. Kaylee felt alienated, and part of her knew it was good for her to be. It helped her work. Her heart, however, wasn’t so sure it was a good thing. Work, drugs and sex were the tools she used to fill the hole in her chest. Her parents were ignoring her existence entirely. She had no friends. But she was not a victim, she was a discoverer. Her ideas would change the world, and loneliness was the price she paid for greatness.

To her surprise, she felt her eyelids were hard to hold open, and her world seemed to slow down. She placed her pen down and held her hands out in front of her, watching them fade in and out of reality. She’d been on acid for about three years, and she knew what tripping was, and this wasn’t it. Fortunately, she was too euphoric to worry. Her head thumped onto the desk, spilling the remains of her drink onto the carpet below.

[from eternity]