The night wind caught at the loose bits of hair around her face and sent them dancing against her cheeks, drawing color from the dusky skin in the chill of the night. Orah shivered as she dug her hands deeper into the front pocket of her sweat shirt and hunched her shoulders to lift the floppy hood higher around her cheeks. She shivered not from cold, but from her own unease, brown eyes staring out at the lights of the city. Familiar and unfamiliar... sharp-edged and hazy with memory... It was like nothing had changed, and yet everything was different.
Steel sliding into flesh... sharp, piercing pain... then nothing at all. She suck in a sobbing breath as she shivered again, closing her eyes for a long moment before she opened them again. A slender hand pressed to her chest, but there was no wound there, no scar. No mark at all of an event that hadn't happened.
Arian didn't remember the stage. He didn't remember the ambush, or their panicked flight, or last desperate battle. Why? Why did she see it all so clearly, and he did not? The fact that he remembered anything at all suggested she was not the only one to have come back... And they had indeed come 'back'. Browsing the local news channels had shown no Negaverse victory, no public executions... the date, October 2014, had confirmed what the apartment had suggested. Somehow, she had died and woken up in the past... and she was not the only one, even if they didn't remember the way she did.
The sound of horns down below as someone cut off another car and got blasted for their troubles made Orah start, her sneakers grating on the roof top gravel. She felt stupid afterwards for being so skittish, but there was a sense of unease that came from being in the city after so many years, unaccompanied by any sort of back up. Arian had left while she was busy trying to decide what to wear, taking Liryn with him. Nothing in her closet had felt right... all skirts and soft, draping cloth that no one else had ever worn. There were no threadbare scrubs, no sweatshirts worn thin with holes in the cuffs... only this set of paint-splattered jeans and hoodie with the Nike logo on the breast. She remembered it being her fathers once, before she'd claimed it for wearing during dirty jobs.
Her father... scared to hope, she had called him and nearly broken apart when his voice had come over the line, absent-minded but happy to hear from her. He'd been confused over her emotional reaction, but she'd convinced him it was only another one of her nightmares and a need to hear his voice. She'd heard Matthew in the background, shouting something about how she should come over and make dinner since Art couldn't even make noodles without burning them... She'd nearly cried again. Her family, safe and whole and happy to hear from her. It had been so long since such a thing was a reality, and here she had it again. She had lost so much, so many people she had loved, and now it seemed they were returned to her. It was more than she could have ever asked for and certainly more than she deserved... mixing more nerves into the happiness.
The 'why' of it all still eluded Orah, casting a pall over everything. Why had she been sent back here when she had failed so spectacularly the first time? Was it so she could try again? Could she prevent what had happened? How? Why give her all of her memories when Arian had so few of them? There were too many questions and not enough answers... and no watchers to find them for her. No camp, no hospital, no lack of supplies or demands on her time... it was surreal to stand here on the roof of her old apartment building and have nothing needing her attention. No responsibility for anyone, but herself... no injured, no dying, no blood under her nails or endless, endless lists. Orah's hand closed around the pen in her pocket and she felt the edges of the white wings dig into the meaty part between her forefinger and thumb.
Answers would not come standing here, but honestly, she was afraid... the last time she had powered up inside the city had been to make her last stand. She couldn't remember a time before that, not after she had gained her power and set up the hospital. Yeas upon years... hiding in the forest, only venturing into the streets as a civilian in drab clothing. The aversion had become ingrained, but she needed to do this... she couldn't avoid it forever. If she wanted to find the people she needed to find, powering up would be the only way to do it.
Closing her eyes and gathering her strength, Orah pulled her pen free and lifted it over her head, her voice soft as she spoke her henshin phrase. Light wrapped her in a familiar feel and when it cleared, she wore white boots and a purple hood, flowers in her hair and glowing henna down her arm. Tentative, she opened her senses to the city around her... and felt a startled sense of relief at feeling nothing. Nothing... no signatures, Order or Chaos, no youma... if there were any, they were beyond Ida's range to sense.
How long has it been since the city felt this... empty? She wondered, reaching with uncertain fingers to tug at the hem of her skirts. Her fuku felt strange on her... clothes worn too infrequently to sit well any more. They should be stained with blood, but as with everything, it was as pristine as the day she had first worn it.
Its like nothing has changed... I've truly returned to my past. Reaching out a hand, Ida willed her crystal to come to her, called for the power that would bring forth her wings... and felt nothing. No surge in answer, no spark or hint that such a feat was possible. Even my powers have returned to what they once were. The only thing that's changed... Is me. I don't... fit, any more. Sadness welled inside of her, tightening her chest.
I don't know what to do... I wish whatever, whomever, did this would have left... a note or something. Some direction as to what I'm supposed to do now. I have to prevent what led to that end, that much is obvious, but how? I couldn't even protect the hospital when they needed me most. There are too many questions, too much uncertainty. All I can do is... go out, see what I can see. There were people she wanted to find, more confirmation of life and who else remembered the future. Maybe something will turn up, give her some direction...
Ida stepped up onto the ledge of the edge of the roof and took a deep breath, centering herself. Arian would be home in a few hours and wonder where she was if she wasn't waiting for him. She'd promised to patrol together, but sitting at home was not going to bring her any comfort. Senses still alert for Chaos signatures, Ida launched herself to the next door building and set off, her face set in determined lines.
Word Count: 1241
