#noxeris

The Chinese teacher assigned them a writing task of rewriting a fairy tale, and she was assigned to a group with Aimee and Samiel. So far everything’s going smoothly, yet she can't shake off the feeling that something’s off.

Is it the way Aimee seems to be sneaking glances at her? Or is it something about Samiel’s smile? Gosh, she's reading too much into it, isn't she.

“Arashi?”

She almost jumps. “O-Oh! Um, what's wrong?”

Aimee seems a little confused by her, “I just asked you a question.”

“Oh. Sorry, I might have missed that,” Arashi smiles awkwardly, “Can you please repeat the question?”

“What do you think if we ended the story with ’and they lived happily ever after’?”

“Um…” Indecisive, she decides to ask, “What do you two think?”

“I think the teacher might say it's not very creative,” Samiel says.

“While I,” Aimee points to herself, “think it's classic. It's a fairy tale, after all.”

“Our task is to rewrite it, though.”

Aimee looks to Arashi. “So? What do you think?”

Arashi rereads the story they have so far. “Hm… Though it probably is kind of cliche, but I kind of want to give them a happy ending…”

Samiel thinks for a moment. “Alright, that's it, then.”

“Okay! Then let's write that down,” Aimee looks to Arashi, “And they lived happily ever after.”

“Okay,” Arashi picks up her pen.

Cyrus looks over, “Hey, it actually does look good.”

“Right?” Aimee hints, “Hmm… But I’m not so good at shooting BB guns…”

“No problem, I’ll go win that bear for you,” Cyrus heads straight to the stand.

“Yay! Love you.”

“6-60 points?” Upon hearing the points needed to get the teddy bear, Cyrus starts reconsidering.

“This is the biggest prize, kiddo,” the shopkeeper says, “But don't worry, our guns are very easy to use. I guarantee you can get 10 points full every round.”

“But one round costs 50 dollars…” Cyrus murmurs, a bit wavering.

Aimee holds his hand. “But I really like that little bear…”

…Screw it. “Okay, I’ll take two rounds for now.”

Unfortunately, FPS games are still different from reality. Cyrus hands 400 dollars to the shopkeeper in pain.

Though Aimee payed a part of it too, but 400 dollars…

Cyrus looks to Aimee, who's hugging the teddy bear in satisfaction, and unconsciously smiles.

“I never thought that we’d really get it! You're the best,” Aimee holds the doll in one hand, and holds Cyrus’s hand in the other.

“I-It's nothing,” Cyrus says, “I’m glad you're happy.”

“Hehe,” Aimee pulls him away from the stand happily.

“Can I come in, then?”

Hesitation. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Krishna, please,” Ophelia pleads, “I need some space. I… I’ll go out later, okay?”

Krishna contemplates for a moment. “Fine.”

She returns to her desk, but unable to concentrate. All that she could focus on was trying to figure out what happened and how she could help.

After a few torturous minutes, the door to Ophelia’s room slowly opens.

“Ophelia,” Krishna rushes over to her, “Are you alright? What happened?”

Ophelia smiles, “I’m good, why?”

There’s something off.

Krishna studies her face. “Your eyes are puffy.”

“Oh, are they?” Ophelia says, surprised, “Huh. Weird.”

Krishna looks into her eyes. “Ophelia, I want you to know that you can tell me anything, alright?”

Ophelia blinks, then averts her eyes, laughing weakly, “Who… Who taught you that?”

“You did, actually.”

“I…” Ophelia is at a loss for words. “It’s… It’s not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal. To me, you are a big deal,” Krishna says earnestly.

Ophelia chuckles, then sighs. “I’m just… bad at conveying anger. I feel angry, yet I have no way to express it.”

Oh, right. She knew about that. She should have known. “…Your curse, right?”

“Curse?”

“Price of magic,” Krishna explains, leaning against the wall. “Feels more like a curse to me, though.”

“It… It is my price,” Ophelia nods, “Though… Well, I suppose you have a point, but I’d prefer not to think of it as a curse.”

Krishna nods. “Do you feel like telling me what happened?”

“Oh, right,” Ophelia struggles to find the words for a while, “It’s… genuinely nothing. I don’t know why I’m so worked up over it. I’m not usually like this, you know.”

“If you keep telling yourself it’s nothing and suppress your anger, then it’ll keep happening,” Krishna says simply.

“I know, but…” Ophelia chuckles weakly, “Don’t you do the same thing with all your emotions?”

“…No, I actually don’t feel emotions much,” Krishna replies, deliberately ignoring the fact that the sentence very much applies.

“I’ve seen you have panic attacks,” Ophelia points out.

“My emotions are numbed, which means I only feel them when they’re extreme,” Krishna says, “It’s my price.”

“Wait, really?”

“The official wording was that I would lose touch with my sense of self. The most prominent feature was numbed emotions, though.”

“That explains a lot, actually.” Ophelia pauses, “Does that mean you care about me a lot?”

“…What?”

“You said you only feel emotions that are strong enough, and you said that you care about me,” she analyzes, “So for you to care about me, it means you actually care a lot.”

Krishna stares at her, a little stunned. “…Maybe.”

“Aww,” Ophelia smiles, “Don't worry! I care a lot about you too.”

“…Well, judging from this conversation, I’m assuming you feel better now,” Krishna changes the subject.

Ophelia smiles, “Yeah. Thanks.”

“Good.” Satisfied, Krishna walks back to the desk. Unfortunately, she is not suited for standing for long, as her body has been screaming at her to sit down for quite a while.

“Oh gosh, are you okay?” Ophelia says, worried, “Sorry, I should have let you sit down while talking.”

“I’m… fine,” she reaches the chair finally.

“Are you sure? You… don't look very fine.”

“Krishna?” Ophelia calls out.

Krishna doesn't stir. Realizing there's a chance that Krishna doesn't have her hearing aids on, Ophelia decides to turn on the lights to get her attention.

“…Ophelia?” Krishna blinks, “It's 2 am. Why are you up.”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Ophelia replies.

“Couldn't sleep.”

“I… I was about to get milk,” she decides to say.

“At 2 am.” Krishna repeats.

“Well… I…” Ophelia gives in at last, “Fine, I had a bad dream. But I’m fine! I just need some milk, I swear. Don't worry.”

“Hm.” Krishna adjusts her seat for Ophelia to reach the mini fridge.

Ophelia pours a mug of milk, then sits down at the table. She casts a quick spell to create a ball of fire in her hand, holding the milk in the other hand.

Krishna stares silently as Ophelia heats up the milk. After she finishes, Krishna says, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Huh? Oh,” Ophelia sips the milk, averting her eyes, “It's just… I don't remember much of it. All I remember is just vague feelings, fear, exhaustion… despair.”

“…I see,” she says.

Ophelia stares at the mug in her hand, not speaking.

“Sorry, I'm not really good at this,” Krishna says, “I can give you a pat on the shoulder if you want. Or on the back.”

Ophelia stares at her.

“…Is something wrong?”

“No, it's just…” Ophelia chuckles softly, “That's… such a specific thing to say. I mean, I get patting on the back, but on the shoulder? Who does that?”

Except her.

…Ophelia doesn't want to think about her.

“…Do you not like pats on the shoulder?” Krishna says with a hint of worry, “I… I can attempt to give you a hug if that would be better.”

“Oh, no, no, it's fine,” Ophelia says quickly, surprised that Krishna, who's usually very averse to touch, would even suggest hugging her. “You don't need to force yourself just to comfort me. It's alright.”

“Oh,” Krishna says softly.

Ophelia resumes her drinking, and Krishna looks at her quietly. The room is silent, uncomfortably silent.

“…What do you usually do if you have a nightmare?” Ophelia starts.

“Pretend I’m fine and definitely not dissociating,” Krishna deadpans.

“O-Oh.”

“No, sorry. Um,” Krishna tries to think of something helpful. “Journaling might help. Or any writing. I heard some people create art to cope.”

“I see…” Ophelia says, thinking.

“Or, well, I’m here if you want to talk,” she offers, “Though I might not be good at comforting people. Maybe Daisy would be a better choice, or Arashi.”

Ophelia looks at her, then smiles. “No, I think you're good. I like talking with you.”

“…That's good,” Krishna says, relieved.

“Mm-hmm. And…”

Her mind circle backs to that girl. But this time, she smiles.

She turns around. “Mimi? What a coincidence. Did you also finish breakfast?”

“No, I’m just about to go get some,” Aimee stops by her. “For some reason I woke up early. I wanted to go back to sleep, but I just couldn't, so I thought I might as well just get up and have breakfast.”

Ophelia laughs. “No wonder. I never see you up so early.”

“Sigh, who knows why I just woke up,” Aimee sighs.

“Since you haven't had breakfast yet, shall I go with you?” Ophelia suggests.

Aimee smiles, “You know me so well, Lili. Let's go!”

The two walk leisurely to the cafeteria. The temperature in mornings is just right, cool enough to be comfortable.

“By the way, why were you just standing there?”

“Just admiring the view,” Ophelia says, gesturing around them, “In early mornings, the fog hasn't dissipated yet, and the hazy, empty campus is a sight on its own.”

Aimee looks around. “It's nice, but I suppose I’m still more used to the noisy and lively school. And also, this is way too early.”

Ophelia chuckles, “On the bright side, at least you don't need to wait in a long queue for breakfast.”

“Good point,” Aimee widens her eyes in realization, but then furrows her eyebrows. “But it's still too early.”

“Alright, alright,” Ophelia laughs.

As they walk, cool breezes brush over them, ruffling their hair. Under the gentle sunlight, Aimee’s blonde hair glistens and dances in the wind.

“Hm? What’cha staring at?” Aimee teases upon noticing Ophelia’s gaze.

“Your hair looks really pretty under the sun like this,” Ophelia says earnestly.

Aimee smirks. “Well thank you.”

“I was thinking about how I would describe it in a novel or a poem. Maybe something like — ‘her hair glistened and fluttered in the breeze, like golden butterflies flocking around a beautiful flower—’”

“Alright, alright, that's quite enough,” Aimee interrupts.

“Oh, okay,” Ophelia turns her attention back to the present. “Why are you so red? Are you cold?”

“Sh-shut up.”

“Hey Krishna,” she calls out, drawing out the vowels, “Can you share your umbrella maybe?”

“Oh,” Krishna hesitates slightly, “Um. Sure.”

“Sweet! Let’s go, then?” Aimee walks over to her.

Krishna nods silently.

This is perhaps the most awkward walk back to the classroom of all time.

And no, it's not because Aimee didn't try to talk to Krishna, but because she knew that Krishna was so horrible at holding conversations it's not even worth trying. Trust her, she knows from experience.

“You know, you should really improve your socializing skills,” Aimee comments.

“Hm.”

“See? This is what I mean!” she exclaims, “All you say is ‘oh’ or ‘mm.’ It's like you have something against literally everyone.”

“Hm,” she says, dismissively.

Aimee rolls her eyes, “Right, how can I expect someone who needs drugs to function properly to understand. Silly me.”

This time, Krishna doesn't even care to respond. Aimee huffs.

And thus, they continue to walk in silence.

“Stop pulling away, this umbrella is small enough already.”