Not even the promise of something better on the horizon can deter how he feels. The next day finds him tumbling back into the cold, calloused hands of reality. Even though work isn’t his destination, retrieving his new medicine is. By the time he gets back to his apartment he already wants to go back to bed.
Opening the door, he’s not the least bit surprised to find Callua lounging on the couch. The second he’s inside and locked the door is when she jumps up off it. “Finally! I thought you were going to be out forever.”
“I’ve only been gone half an hour? How long have you been here?”
“Hm? Just a few minutes.”
Zye rolls his eyes. “You know, I’m starting to regret giving you that spare.”
She grins wide and plops back down. The cushion sags beneath her as she crosses her legs while pointing to the paper bags on the coffee table. “You didn’t answer my messages so I figured you were still out of it and could use some dinner.”
“You’re not wrong. Let me grab us some drinks. Any preference?”
“Nope!” She hums to herself, thinking. “I ordered extra, figured Xerxes would be over since he knows you’re free.”
The reminder of Xerxes and Aisa has a knot already forming in the pit of his stomach. To say he’s not over it would be an understatement. How does one just let go after that type of confrontation? Regardless of how either party feels about the matter, he’s upset and he doesn’t want to make the situation worse.
Zye snags a couple of glasses from a cabinet and the bottle of juice from the fridge. Ambling back to the couch, he huffs at her. “Don’t count on it. Probably won’t see him around for a while.”
“Aisa really can’t handle getting close to you, hm?”
“Can you blame her? I could drop dead tomorrow. Who wants to put stock in someone like that?”
Callua can’t help it. She slaps Zye on the shoulder. “Would you quit that? That’s normal. Disease or not, people die every day. And it’s not like you’re contagious. Maybe you two just need a heart to heart?”
“Cal, no. I’d be fine not talking to her again. The last few times all she does is yell at me.” The end of his sentence ends in a mumble while he pours their drinks. Tugging containers from the bags, he glances at her from the corner of his eye. “You better not do anything either.”
“What? Me? I’m innocent and you know it.” She gives him a wink and a cunning little smile. “Annnnd, I may have already told Xerxes to swing over when he can.”
“You—I can’t…Haaa…She’s actually going to kill me.”
Zye stands back up. Moving back into the kitchen to grab plates and utensils is the only way to keep himself from freaking out. Aisa would never agree to let Xerxes come over after that…right?
He’s barely back to the couch when a knock comes from the door. Shooting Callua a glare, he hands her what he carries on his way there. It’s the last thing he wants to open. He even expects Aisa to be the one standing there to make matters worse.
But no, it’s just Xerxes with a sheepish smile on his face. He worries the hem of his t-shirt between his fingers. “Is it…okay?”
Any other time he’d fall back on how he usually handles situations like this. It’s far easier to push away than to keep getting attached. Is it truly foolish to let this continue? Should he send Xerxes away and cut this off right now?
“Yeah. As long as you want to.”
It’s painfully obvious that he knows something happened. Aisa probably rode him about not coming over again. It surprises Zye that Xerxes is going against her wishes. The fact that he is almost has Zye shutting the door and telling him never to come over again. Yet, it’s those hopeful eyes that he can’t seem to say no to.
Instead, he gestures over to the couch. “Food is hot and ready.”
Callua is practically bubbling. She pats the cushion and eagerly begins to spread the containers out. Xerxes hurries over to sit beside her. “What did you get?”
She giggles and gives a sweep of her arm, “Everything.”
Zye rolls his eyes as he makes his way back to them. Taking a seat on the floor, he grabs for the nearest paper box to shovel out some rice onto a plate. “Don’t be so dramatic.”
“Says the guy that’ll eat his weight in this salt-soaked nightmare of a meal.”
“I like what I like.”
“You should like an orange sometime.”
He sticks his tongue out at her then takes a bite of whatever’s in the next bowl. It doesn’t even matter what it is, he loves the spices that hit his tongue. It helps burn away the thoughts and replaces them with the need for more food.
Xerxes is too busy gazing over at Callua. “How’s work? I haven’t seen you in so long.”
“It’s alright. Just been keeping me busy. The guy I work with is driving me crazy though.” She stabs a fork into a dumpling. “Just because he runs himself ragged doesn’t mean I want to.”
Zye swallows and lets out a chuckle. “Ever thought maybe you’re just lazy.”
“I’ll take my food and leave.”
“No, no it’s okay. No one that lazy would ever buy me dinner.” He stops mid-bite and stands. “Shit. Forgot you need a drink.”
Callua bumps her arm against Xerxes’s and they both laugh. The easy-going atmosphere blossoms like a flower in spring. But like all flowers, it wilts quickly once the warmth and sun die down. The food is nearly gone when Xerxes grabs for his phone, suddenly looking downtrodden.
Not wanting to bring trouble their way, Xerxes smiles and stands. He gives a wave and steps around Zye. The man looks up at him with a quirked eyebrow. “You’re leaving?”
“I…um…I have homework to do. Thanks for inviting me and it was nice to see you again, Cal.”
“You too, squirt. Be good.”
Xerxes can barely meet her eyes before he’s trying to slip out of the apartment. He just needs to get back before Aisa gets home and none will be the wiser. Except, Zye is following right after him. Zye catches the door as it shuts and calls out to him.
“Hey, Xerxes?”
There’s a bubble of anxiety that’s beginning to form in the pit of his stomach. He stops and turns enough to where he can make a sliver of eye contact. Not that Zye is fairing much better. He wants to do the right thing, whatever that happens to be.
“It’s okay if you can’t or don’t want to come by. Family is important. If it makes it easier on her then—”
“No.” Xerxes turns and locks eyes with Zye. He doesn’t do it very often. It has him trembling ever-so-slightly. There’s a raw need to get out what he thinks otherwise he never will. Fear of losing one just to have the other. “You’re my family, too.”
“I…Thanks. If you need anything, call me.”
Xerxes nods and bounds away, not wanting to stick around. The light flush to his cheeks when he declared that— it has Zye wanting to melt into the ground. No one has ever gone that far to say those words. Not even Shae, that was always just unspoken between them.
Perhaps that’s why when he returns to Callua he finds the urge to tell her the same. He sits down on the other end of the couch and she takes advantage of it. She flops over with her head landing in his lap. Smiling at him, she reaches up and pokes at his chin.
“Feel better?”
“Maybe. Helps to have a friend like you.”
“Oh shush, flattery gets you nowhere. Except with me. Tell me how great I am!” She giggles when he shakes his head, ignoring her. “So? How’s it going?”
Zye sinks back against the cushion. His eyes close while he lets her grab for his hand, tracing her fingers along the lines on his palm. She’s mentioned palm reading once. Not that he believes it’d do him any good.
“It’s a go. I can move in with Shae and have my old job. I got enough saved up just in case something happens or pay is slow.”
“Good, I’m really glad you can get away from Soren and Daichi.” Callua sits up, hesitates, and then stands. She gives him a weak smile before leaning forward to kiss his cheek. “Don’t stay up late, okay? Sleep soon and let me know if I can help with any of that.”
“Yeah…thanks. Be safe.”
Callua grins as she saunters to the door, long hair swishing back and forth behind her. “Hah! You know anyone that dares should be scared of me instead.”
“I know but still.”
A final nod and Callua is slipping into the hall. Down the stairs and out the building, she practically sprints down them. It has her skidding to a stop, barely able to hold herself up without running into the tall man just outside the door. A hand settles on her elbow to steady her. She pats his arm in return. “How kind of you to pick a lady up.”
“I don’t have time to wait for you to meet at the rendezvous point.” His silver eyes sweep away from her as he turns, breaking the contact completely. Boots slap through the puddles, sending up small sprays of water. “So hurry up, you can come back and play another day.”
Callua huffs, “You’re such a stick in the mud. Lighten up a bit, Jace. I think we can handle it with plenty of time to spare.”
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41Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXbPGds2Nn2
Work isn’t terribly overbearing for the next week. If anything he’s spent most of his time managing his savings, packing what he doesn’t use, and spending time up at the hospital. To the point where he knows he should speak with Soren about quitting. He can’t put it off forever.
He could. But that’s not how Lyra raised him. Face his problems head-on, that’s the way he does things. Except, as he reaches Soren’s office he notices that the lights are off. The door is locked and there’s no one inside.
“Shit…” he mumbles under his breath. It figures. He wanted to get to Soren, drop the information, and then deal with Daichi tonight. Get them both over with at the same time.
“Hey there, looking for someone?”
Zye pinches his eyes shut. He tries to steel himself before turning. “Not really. What can I do for you, sir?”
Daichi gestures to follow and so Zye does, against his better judgment. They enter the office with Zye taking a seat in the chair in front of the desk. Daichi, however, plants himself on the edge of the desk so that he’s right in front of Zye.
“I told you, you don’t have to be so formal.”
“It’s not good to play favorites with your employees.”
Daichi leans forward to the point where Zye sits back in the chair as far as he can. Daichi’s hand lands on the armrest as he smiles at Zye. “You’re more than just my favorite employee. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be going out tonight.”
“R-right, tonight. But I should get going, I still have an errand to run before you come by.”
“But you found time to go look for Soren? I’m hurt.” His hand slides off the chair and instead onto Zye’s arm, fingers brushing over his wrist. “Whatever you need I can take care of.”
Zye pushes his hand off. “I already told you we shouldn’t do that at work.” It’s so hard to not want to become one with the chair. He’s already regretting coming in the office with him— regretting ever getting involved with someone so…intense.
It doesn’t help that Daichi is getting closer. More and more until he’s off the desk, a knee pushing against the cushion he’s on. It’s the only time he’s taller than Zye, leering over him with that glint in his eyes. “So that means I can do it elsewhere?”
More than a year ago, he’d have flushed and been putty in Daichi’s hands. Now he knows better. Not that there’s anywhere to run at the moment. Zye tries to lean back and doesn’t dare move his legs.
“I think that’d be considered sexual harassment, sir.”
“Always so coy. You’re lucky I like the chase.” Daichi dips his head down beside Zye’s ear. “And your ass.”
The breath, not to mention the words, sends a chill down his spine. He could slap his past self for ever climbing into bed with this man. What a needy idiot he was. It has him thankful for the knock on the door. Daichi stands up and glowers at the interruption he can’t see.
“What is it?”
“There’s an issue with a delivery, sir.”
“I’ll be right there.”
The aggressive tone begins to melt away until he notices Zye rising and slipping around the side of the chair. He grabs for Zye’s wrist and tugs him to a stop. A hand reaches for Zye’s face to force him to lean down.
Their lips crush together with Daichi attempting to urge it further. Zye pushes at Daichi’s shoulders, easily overpowering him and ending the kiss. “There are people out there!” he hisses at Daichi.
“Didn’t use to mind. Figured you liked the desk more than the bed.”
Flushing at that, Zye glances away. “That doesn’t have anything to do with it.”
Daichi begins to laugh. “Sorry, sorry. I forgot I’ve been neglecting you. What has it been? A month, almost two? I’m sorry I was gone so long, I won’t leave you again.”
“That’s not it either— I have to go. I’ll see you tonight.”
Zye yanks his wrist away yet can’t get out the door fast enough.
“Don’t be so mean, I’m always here for you. Next time come knock on my door. I can handle whatever it is.”
For a moment he lets the mask slip back on. He meets Daichi’s gaze. It has him feeling as though he’s looking into the eyes of a devil. Someone so cunning and kind with something lurking beneath the surface of the calm waters.
Zye huffs, “You can’t handle this mess.”
Leaving the office— no— leaving work entirely, he hurries home as best he can. Even then he knows it’s only a couple of hours before the storm is at his door instead. He busies himself with sending messages to Shae or Callua. Setting up a date to move out won’t be easy yet has to be done eventually.
Except thinking about that has him hesitating. It’s such a long drive to the hospital where Lyra is from Shae’s. Not that he minds, he’d drive across the continent if that’s what it took. By the time he’s home, he’s made his way into his room to stare at the boxes he’s begun to pack up. The whirlwind of change is intoxicating. The reality is a cold slap to the face.
Something new, yet old, doesn’t mean anything is different.
Zye sits on his bed, staring at the pale blue walls. His mind is running in the wrong direction. There’s worry settling in that Daichi will be there tomorrow when he goes in to see Soren. Even fear settles in the back of his mind that Daichi won’t accept how he feels.
The man has always been so overbearing. Then again, Zye can’t deny that he got swept up by him and his attitude. Everything about him is confident and demanding. At a point, he stopped saying no. The time away from him has been an eye-opener. Even more so than the orders he was beginning to make. It was always his way or the highway.
There’s no way he’d move in with Daichi under the pretense of always being there to greet him. He’s not some little maid to greet his master. That just doesn’t sit right no matter how sweet Daichi can be. As long as he’s doing what Daichi wants.
A sigh slips from his lips as he begins to tidy things up. There’s still laundry and cleaning to do and bills to pay. He’s got plenty to keep his mind busy from the paranoia until Daichi arrives.
To say he’s anxious would be an understatement of the century. Part of him wishes he had just said something back at work. Then again, he feels safer here. This is his space and Daichi can take a hike if he doesn’t respect it.
So he thinks.
When the knock echoes off the door he’s panicking inside. Confrontation is harder than fighting someone. Knocking a guy onto his ass? Easy. This? Very difficult. Not that it stops him from doing it. He’ll burn this bridge if he has to.
Zye hurries to let Daichi in yet doesn’t move too far from the door, intending to keep the man right here. It doesn’t help that Daichi knows something is up right from the start. He places a hand on his hip and shoots Zye a questioning gaze.
“What’s wrong? No welcome home kiss, honey?”
“We need to talk.”
“Aren’t we already?” Daichi pushes past him and strides toward the couch. “Tell me what’s wrong. I’ll fix it. Is it money? Someone bothering you?” He laughs as he leans on the arm of the couch, sitting down and making himself at home. “Or have you finally come to see that I’m right and want me to take care of you? I can have all of this at my place by the morning.”
Zye turns slowly and takes a deep breath, letting the door swing shut. He takes a few steps closer so that he doesn’t raise his voice. The closer he is to Daichi, the quieter he gets. “Someone’s bothering me.”
His mother always warned him about these types. All of that insight and he’s wasted it, fallen right into the trap. A quick break is what he needs.
“Oh? Tell me all about them and I’ll make sure they disappear.”
“It’s you.”
Daichi stares up at Zye for a moment. He’s processing the admission and it’s not going well at all. His eyes narrow and his jaw tenses. He’s angry. So very angry. “What was that? I think I misheard you.”
“I won’t do this anymore. I don’t want a relationship like this. We were sex friends at best, there’s no love in that.”
“I told you, you will love me but you keep running away.” Daichi rises to his feet while trying to put on a calming smile. One Zye can see straight through. “If you apologize, I’ll pretend this didn’t happen and we can go get dinner.”
Zye lets out a breath through his nose and turns. Making his way back to the door, he gestures to it. “I think you should leave. We’re done.”
“This is because of Callua isn’t it? She got in your head—”
“First off, she’s my friend. Second, I decided this. No one else.”
“I can be too!”
“No, you can’t.” Zye shakes his head. He grabs onto the doorknob, clutching onto it for support. “You don’t know what line not to cross.”
“Don’t be an idiot. I can give you anything you want.”
“I want you to leave.” The words come out strong, but he’s starting to shake. Fingers are quivering around their grip on the doorknob.
Daichi is storming over to him with renewed fury. He grabs a fistful of Zye’s t-shirt, yanking at it to try and force him down to his level. Zye only barely budges but it’s enough movement to make Daichi feel powerful. To feel as though he can force a different outcome.
“I guess working in a whore house made you want to play hard to get, huh?”
“I’ll ask nicely one last time or I’m kicking your ass out.”
“You’ll regret this, Zye. You shouldn’t let that someone poison your mind. I’m the only one that loves you— the only one that can help you.” He lets go and pushes Zye back so that he releases the doorknob. The door opens. He shoots Zye a smirk. “You’ll realize it soon enough and you’ll come crawling back. Don’t keep me waiting, I’m not very patient.”
He’s gone the next instant and Zye is slamming the door shut. Hands press against it as if to try and keep Daichi out should he come back. He doesn’t know what to do. For the briefest of moments, he’s afraid. The fear worms so deep down into his gut that he’s sick.
Daichi is terrifying— crazy even. Attractive maybe but definitely a little off. Why was he so dumb to have let that freak of a man cast a line in his direction? All those sweet nothings or the late nights— none of it meant anything. All of the advice to get away from his friends. To leave Kass’s side and forget about Shae…
Hindsight is a bitch and he’s hating it.
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41Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrFHquqm7iO
The next morning finds him at the hospital. He’s thankful that no one asks him to see a doctor while he’s here. Instead, he’s able to go straight to his mother’s room and settle down in a chair at her bedside. He sits there patiently, in silence, so that he doesn’t disturb her. He knows she’ll reprimand him for not waking her. They don’t get as much time as they want, after all.
Just as he’s about to leave, he can feel the fingers beneath his hand twitch. She stirs enough to give a hum. “Mm…Zye?”
“Yeah, it’s me.”
“I thought so.”
It breaks his heart listening to her; the little rushed breaths, the strained words, the shake of volume as she can’t muster enough strength to raise it any higher. The sadness is only second to the anger. Raw frustration that has his shoulders tense and stomach tight, curling in and knotting up.
“I won’t stay long. I just wanted to tell you I’ve gone to see Kass.”
A smile emerges and it lights up his world. She turns her hand over and squeezes at his fingers as best she can. “I’m…glad…”
The door opens and Dr. Len peeks in. “Zye? May I have a moment when you’re done?”
He gives a nod and stands. Zye lifts Lyra’s hand, kisses the back of it, then hugs her. “I promise I’ll come by in the morning. So get some rest, okay?”
She lets out a long breath and turns her head as if to watch him leave despite not being able to see. “I love you…be safe.”
“Love you, too, Mom.”
It takes so long to let go of her hand. So long to let her fingers slide off of his and for that small bit of warmth to vanish. He tucks the blanket back over her, making sure she’ll stay warm, then heads out into the hall.
Dr. Len gives him a weak smile. “Good to see you. How’s the new medicine working?”
“Fine. How’s she really doing?”
“She just needs rest. We expect a full recovery since she took so well to the new treatment. I’ll let you know personally if anything changes.”
“Thanks,” Zye murmurs and goes to slip past only for Dr. Len to turn to follow.
The doctor reaches out but stops short. “Zye…please don’t push yourself.”
“I’ll try.”
It’s the best answer he can give. There’s so much motion in his life that trying is all he can do. His heart is breaking every day he comes here. Every day she’s not getting any better, barely even stabilizing. He knows not to expect a fix, there is none.
Not that it stops him from wishing with all his heart that there was. He just wants the rain to stop and this permanent black cloud above his head to vanish. How much can one person possibly take?
His thoughts guide him out of the hospital and into the parking lot. Zye’s body moves on autopilot until he’s leaving. It’s only then that he forces himself to focus. Driving to work is quick and easy. It’s helped by the fact that he knows Soren is in and Daichi isn’t.
A quick message from a coworker this morning is all he needed.
Parking out front away from the door, he gets off and starts in. The helmet is something he holds close to his chest as he moves. His eyes remain focused and he doesn’t dare try to garner any attention from his coworkers. He’s not here for a pleasant visit or some idle chit-chat. Thankfully, no one cares to engage with him.
Another benefit to being tall and usually having a sour look on his face.
A knock on Soren’s door, a huff of a reply, and he’s inside with the door nudged shut. Zye doesn’t take a seat. It has Soren finally looking up at him. Fingers lace together beneath a raised chin with chilling eyes boring holes through Zye.
“How can I possibly thank you for finally appeasing Daichi so he’ll leave me alone?”
Meaning Daichi hasn’t calmed enough to talk to Soren about what happened.
“I’m not here about him.”
“Then pray tell, what are you here for? I’m a busy man and I don’t have time for bullshit.”
Zye takes a deep breath. “I want to put in my two-week notice.”
Soren’s expression falls. A sigh follows shortly after as he unfolds his hands, leans back in his chair with a squeak of springs, and gestures behind Zye. “I’d say I don’t care, leave today at that, but I have something I need you to take care of.”
“Meaning?”
“Neither Ali nor Kat are in today. They’re the only other people I trust with this delivery so I’ll make you a deal. Actually, consider it a favor since you’ve done so well here. Take the package and you can quit today.”
“Seriously?”
Soren glares at him. “Do I look like I’m joking? I need this done now. If you want out that bad I can have the paperwork done today.”
There’s no way he can say no. The ability to just leave and not have to deal with Daichi anymore? Getting away from him is Zye’s highest priority. He’s already tried before and gone back, he can’t do it again— can’t get sucked back into Daichi’s rhythm.
“I’ll do it.”
Soren reaches into the drawer of his desk and pulls out a small box. To Zye it doesn’t look like anything special. It’s wrapped in plain brown paper that helps it slide across the desktop. A moment later and Soren retrieves a slip of paper with an address on it and a name; Z. The script is prim and proper, as expected of Soren.
“Good. You don’t have to come back. Break it or steal it and you won’t be able to run far enough, understood? This is from me. A personal delivery.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Go and be quick about it.”
Zye doesn’t hesitate. The helmet fits back on as he steps up to the desk. He scoops up the box, paper, and leaves without a second thought. He’s acutely aware of the eyes staring holes into his back. Another thing he won’t miss.
Whatever he’s done to earn that type of look from Soren he’ll never know. Doesn’t care to either. Not when he has freedom just at his fingertips from this cold, hellish place. Although the strangeness of this final request is something else entirely. It’s not the first time he’s had such precious cargo.
Getting to his bike he realizes one thing— he doesn’t have his phone. He recalls having it this morning when he messaged Kat about the schedule. Not wanting to dwell on it, Zye glances at the address and proceeds to head there. From what he remembers it’s not too far away. If he takes the back streets he should have this done in an hour at most. Can even get home and maybe catch a nap.
The sun is still high in the sky as he drives through the city. Although by the time he gets there and back home it should be evening. He spends his time pondering on dinner; should he pick something up or settle for what he has leftover.
The heat of the sun is something he’s grateful not to deal with when he takes that first side street. More trees begin to pop up between shops which gradually change to houses. However, the further he goes through this neighborhood the worse they get. More forgotten and dilapidated the closer he gets to his destination. Usually, only Chroma live in these areas yet this end of the neighborhood, in particular, seems abandoned.
For a destination, it certainly isn’t anything special. Nothing he would have expected for such an important delivery. It’s a worn-down house with grass growing up through the cracks in the driveway. The sight alone has him pulling up at the curb, not daring to go further.
The helmet is left on the seat. He grabs the package out of the compartment and begins up the driveway. He’s glad it’s still early enough that the sun is out. Not for long, but enough to deliver this and get on his way.
“Why’s it gotta be so damn creepy,” he mutters to himself as he reaches the porch.
The wooden steps creak and moan as he climbs them. No matter where he walks, noise is echoing out around him. It’s enough to drive him crazy. Although not as bad as the vines crawling along every inch of the porch. They’re so long and overgrown that one wrong move has them brushing against him.
Zye suppresses a chill and opens the screen door. Even though the only screen left is barely hanging off the frame. A sigh slips from him as he knocks on the door, unable to find a doorbell of any kind.
It takes a moment before a loud groan signals the door is inching open. Zye isn’t stupid. He takes a step back and keeps his keys in one hand, particularly with the hard ring between two fingers just in case. Yet, he’s surprised.
This “Z” isn’t some battle-hardened person with scars or a sour look on their face. There’s not a tattoo in sight or a dangerous pet at their side. Not even a weapon that they flaunt despite living…here. Z is just a slender girl with a long, tattered scarf that she keeps pulled up to her nose.
At least he assumes this is the client. He tries his best not to stare and instead shifts his weight from one foot to the other. It’s normal these days for people to have strange eye colors— even from birth. Still, her scarlet eyes have him feeling unsure and a little wary.
She’s not eccentric either. Not from the short, dark purple hair to the long bangs swept to the right of her face to her attire. Even her clothes are patched, ripped, and unraveling at the ends; shirt, pants, and the shawl over that. Long sleeves fold back as she lifts her arms to reveal dainty hands reaching out for the package.
“Who are you?”
Not a blink, a twitch, or a change in her stance. She can barely even meet his eyes at that rate.
“Z. My package, please?”
“Sure.”
She takes the box. The second it leaves his hands he’s turning around. Zye is far too eager to get the hell out of here. Every warning light is going off in his head, begging him to get back on the bike and haul ass. One step down and he stops.
“Um, sir?”
He glances over his shoulder. “Is there a problem?”
“Yes— I mean no. Well…” The yellowed porch light streaks over her face as she finally lifts her chin, meeting his eyes. “You should be careful. There’s death following you.”
“Whatever you say.”
He replies with a scoff but there’s no denying that the hair on his arms is standing on end. There’s a wealth of anxiety spawning inside of him. Zye skips a step to get off the porch as quickly as possible. Not that it does him much good. The second he reaches the bottom she’s right there grabbing at the back of his t-shirt.
She clutches the material, tugging on it. He shoots her a glare. “What now?”
There’s not a chance that she’s letting him go yet. She wouldn’t be wrong in assuming he’d make a break for it either. Having left the package by the door, she’s able to fish out a trinket from her pocket. It’s nothing special, just a strip of leather with a metal coin dangling from it.
At least, that’s what Zye assumes it is. Tangible money is a thing of the past and any found is quite literally a priceless piece of junk. No one wants it.
Zye glares a little harder at her, hoping she’ll release her hold. “The hell do I want with that?”
Z lets him go, but not without holding it out to him. “It’ll protect you. A blessed medallion keeps evil away.”
“Look, I don’t have time for this. I’m busy.”
He pushes her hand away and finally manages to take a few steps away.
“Your Mother says she’s sorry. That the least she can do is give you something to keep this death at bay.”
The mention of Lyra has anger surging through him. He spins on his heel, throwing an arm out in a wide arc. “Who the hell do you think you are?”
“Would you rather sneak up on me, my starlight? Or…so she says. And that she loves you. To be safe tonight.”
Zye’s eyes widen at the ease of the question followed by the shaky statement. For a second he can’t even breathe. There’s a part deep inside of him that believes the words that tumble from her lips. He won’t admit it. Not while he can barely stand not rushing off to throw up.
He takes a step back toward his motorcycle. There’s hesitation in her before she hurries to close the distance between them. She skids to a stop before him, grabs his hand, and places the coin against his palm. Just before she lets go she loops the strap around his wrist twice before clicking the little metal hooks together.
What surprises him the most is when she surges forward, wrapping her arms around his middle for the briefest of hugs. As quick as she’s there, she’s scurrying away to the safety of her abode. She doesn’t look back. She doesn’t utter another word. All he’s left with is the slam of her front door, the screen door’s frame giving a couple of bounces before closing, and the confusion bubbling up in the pit of his stomach.
Nothing is right about this.
What the hell was any of that?
The only thing he can think of is getting home as quickly as possible. The medallion dangles from the strap as he does just that. Helmet on and back to the road, he tries to ignore the nerves and instead focus on the calming thrums of the engine below him.
After all, there’s no way that girl knows Lyra or anything about him for that matter. Soren doesn’t know any personal details about his mother. Daichi doesn’t either. So…how in the world does this tiny little woman know what Lyra would say?
Zye gives a shake of his head. Another few corners and he should be back to the main street. Once he’s there he’ll be home free. At least, that’s the plan. From the corner of his eye, he sees it. At first, he doesn’t think a thing of it, tries to brush it off and ignore it.
Getting closer proves he can’t do that.
Tendrils of darkness slither out from an upcoming alley between two shops. They’re not quick but they’re large. He slows down once he can get a closer look. The sunlight casts long shadows that it crawls throughout— long, thick, and looking like vines from a plant with barbs all along them. They begin to multiple until he can barely see the ground.
His gut says to speed up, just leave, and he intends to. Until one of the largest obstructs his path. The heat of the day does little to quell the sudden onslaught of cold air that settles around him. He swallows hard as he comes to a stop. There’s no way he’s getting past it — it’s as wide around as his bike.
Peering down the alley, he wishes he hadn’t.
The vines begin to pulsate with crackles of blue throughout their inky black existence. It’s not just the color that seems to be alive. The vines themselves begin to tremble. Zye looks up, staring down the alleyway as a bulbous black thing barrels toward him.
It looks no different than an overgrown bouquet of lilies with weeds strangling its base. A head of sorts peeks out from the “flowery” growths and gives way to two large cerulean circles. Something he can only imagine is its eyes.
The most disturbing part to Zye is how fast it’s moving, the vines tugging and yanking it in his direction at an alarming speed. Yet just as it gets close, it seems to stop. He can only stare. He’s frozen in place with his heart thudding loud in his ears. He can’t hear the footsteps at all over his heartbeat.
Boots slap against the asphalt just before a man launches himself into the air. White strings materialize around his gloved fingers then fan out. They extend out from his hands in arcs wide enough to catch the creature from every angle; vines, head, base, and everywhere in between.
Zye eyes are wide with wonder watching it all happen. It’s so smooth and effortless. The man tugs on the strings, using the creature as leverage to kick off the ground and launch himself into the air. He lands in front of the being, between it and Zye, before waving his arms out in front till they cross at the elbows.
Doing so has the strings tightening until they seemingly slice through the creature. For a moment it’s sliding apart from where it’s been cut. Just before it begins to wilt, it explodes into a shower of sparkling dust. It rains down to the ground where it vanishes before it touches the pavement.
The entire time, Zye is staring. He turns his bike off against his better judgment then gets off, making sure the stand is kicked out. He swallows past the lump in his throat. “What…the hell was that?”
Finally, the man looks at him and Zye realizes just how…strange he seems. It has nothing to do with his light green eyes or the sky blue hair. It’s the glowing strings that have begun to dissipate as if they were never cinched around fingers clad in black gloves. Although, it has a lot to do with the arrogance in his stance despite being half a head shorter than Zye.
“You saw that?”
“You. That…thing. And whatever the hell you did to it!”
The man quirks an eyebrow. “Well…this is strange. You shouldn’t have been able to. I even set up a barrier just in case.” The man turns on his heel, bringing a hand up to cup his chin. “What went wrong I wonder…”
Zye listens in, realizing that the man isn’t talking to him, which he does find a little rude. Not that he minds. It gives him a chance to peer at him. To be honest, this man looks like anyone else and dresses like one too. A simple green jacket with white fluff around the collar and short sleeves. All black attire of pants and shirt. Yellow stars dot the shirt from what he can see. A brown belt matches the knee-high boots.
Nothing weird or out of the ordinary.
The man finally swivels back around, walking straight up to Zye. “You are mortal, yes?”
“The hell? Mortal? Uh…Are you okay?”
“I see.”
“Yo! Orion what’s taking so…long…?”
Zye glances over the man, Orion’s, head to see another approach. Rather he jumps from the roof of the shop and lands as if he had only hopped from one stepping stone to the next. He’s not hurt in the slightest and his knees don’t even give under the weight. Even so, this new person is…something else.
He’s the one that doesn’t look normal. His clothes seem like something a pop idol would wear. Green boots and matching fingerless gloves reaching up past his elbows. A sweeping blue coat with waves painted along the hem. It rests over a white-blue shirt with one strap, leading it to crop down low to show off most of his chest. Baggy gray pants tuck into the tops of his boots while an orange choker is bound around his neck.
But it’s not that which has Zye so incredulous. It’s the man’s hair. The bangs are cerulean. The remainder of the long, shaggy strands are dark navy that seems to have small glittering golden stars woven throughout like a night sky.
Orion glares over his shoulder. He scoffs and steps up to Zye. Reaching up, he’s quick to draw a circle then tap two fingers to his forehead. Zye can’t even ask before he loses the ability to form words. His vision blurs as he drops to his knees. He looks at Orion as he sags up against him, falling unconscious.
The man chuckles as he strides up behind Orion. “So, take care of the Nether?”
“No thanks to you, as usual.”
“Hey, I helped.”
“Helped chase it right to a mortal that could see it— and us.”
“So…what now?”
Orion gestures down to Zye, not wanting to touch him any more than he has. “Take care of it. I’ve locked away this part of the memory. Thankfully, no one else is around.”
“Yeah, yeah I know. Be more careful.”
The man walks around Orion and tugs Zye to his feet, half carrying and half dragging him over to the alley the Nether came from. “Oh hey, do you want me to set up a barrier just in case?”
“Of course, Aster. It’s a nuisance, yes. Doesn’t mean we want it to die. That’s more work in the long run. We don’t need more Nether running around.”
Orion begins to walk away, waiting for Aster to do as he’s told. It has the blue-haired man chuckling. “Just my luck.”
It takes him a few moments, to say the least. He sets Zye down and props him against the wall. He even goes the extra mile to wheel his bike over. Once he has that settled he weaves his fingers through the air. A glittering, sphere of transparent hexagons shimmers into place along the alley floor, the shop walls, and up into the air just to cover Zye and the bike. Once it’s in place, it begins to vanish from sight.
“Haa…I could use a nap. Too much work today.” He stretches his arms over his head while strutting over to join with Orion. “You’re still here?”
Orion sighs. “Something isn’t right. But we don’t have time today. Better to report back that we’ve lost our lead.” He spares one more glance back at the alley before leading Aster away.
By the time Zye’s coming to, the sun is already beginning to sink into the horizon. The cold darkness he’s been left in has him shivering as he opens his eyes. The lights to the back of the stores are already beginning to glow. It gives him something to focus on as he tries to recall why he’s here on the ground with the worst headache he’s ever had.
“Dammit…”
Nothing comes no matter how long he sits here. The last thing he remembers is leaving that house. Any time he attempts to think harder has a sharp pain ricocheting between his eyes and into his teeth. Something he doesn’t do more than twice. It’s not that important right now.
Getting home is.
Regardless of how tired he is, Zye begins to push himself to his feet. Nothing outright hurts and that’s comforting. It means no one beat the crap out of him. The weariness that makes his body feel so heavy isn’t shaking no matter what. It means it takes him even longer to get home than normal.
Zye is relieved when he does arrive at the apartments. The wind has chilled his bare arms and the ache in his head has only grown steadily worse. As much as he’d love to run up the stairs to get to his room, he can’t. The steps are labored and sluggish. By the time he’s shutting the door, he just wants to collapse.
He idly glances at his phone on the table. A vague thought to check it passes through him. There’s nothing planned for tomorrow aside from going to the hospital after all. He keeps walking until he’s at his bed, which he plops onto. Rolling over and curling up into the blanket, he lets out a long breath. Nothing matters as his eyes close. Sleep grasps onto him with ease and doesn’t dare let go.
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The warehouse, empty of all its employees, is dark and haunting as it welcomes its guest. The man’s strides are confident and unrelenting. He stops for nothing— not even the way the door rattles shut behind him as he enters. Regardless, his hands aren’t simply idle at his side. Fingers flex and curl, anticipating anything and everything.
He stops briefly just before Soren’s open door then proceeds to walk inside of the brightly lit office. The man stands just inside the room. He doesn’t care to go any further. The least he does is let his silver eyes level with Soren.
In response, Soren leans forward on the desk. “And what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”
“I hope you have a good reason for going against Hax’s orders.”
“I don’t know—”
“Whatever deal you two have, I don’t care. But it’s not smart to cross him. He knows what you did today and he’s not happy.”
Soren laughs as he relaxes into his chair. It squeaks as it arches back enough to where he can prop his feet up on his desk. The dress shoes he wears shine under the blinding light. “And what do I care? Daichi should have it taken care of as long as he doesn’t get distracted.”
The man doesn’t flinch. He does take a step forward. A move that has dark brown bangs sweeping between his eyes and to the sides of them. They stop just near the yellow markings between them; three dots with two lines beneath and separating each. His gaze hardens, trying to urge some more information from the unreliable man.
“You only have your position because of Hax, remember that. Don’t take him lightly. We both know he’s the strongest.”
Another chuckle, steadily rising in volume. “Jace, please, I’m not an idiot. Daichi will have it under control I’m sure. He’s too obsessive not to. You remember his last mission.”
Jace turns, intending to leave it at that. The last thing he wants to talk about is Daichi. At the door he hesitates, fingers drumming against the door frame. “Oh, they’ve been seen around here lately. Keep undercover at all times when you’re in this area or pissing off Hax will be the least of your worries.”
Fingers slip from the wood to reveal small scorch marks where each finger had touched. An additional warning that has Soren glaring at Jace’s back as he disappears back into the darkness of the warehouse. Once he’s gone, Soren looks up to the ceiling. Hair falls away to let both eyes stare up into the luminescent bulb.
“I suppose it’s a good thing I’ve never trusted Hax. If that’s all it took to ruffle his feathers then I won’t have to try as hard to get a better reaction.”
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