Lost Change

Chapter 34

The two Kymari didn't seem very interested in returning to their movie after that.  They both just sat on the couch in stunned silence.  I had the impression they might have been looking at me, but I didn’t feel like looking back at them to find out.

Eventually I heard one of them get up, followed by the sound of dishes being gathered up.  They moved off into the kitchen for a bit, probably cleaning up the remains of the hurried refreshments they had offered the Elder, then eventually returned to the room.

I heard the door open and I finally glanced up.  Arlia was leaving, but she had paused in the doorway to look back at me.

“Are you going to do it?”

The other Kymari followed Arlia’s gaze to watch me.  She was quiet for a moment before she slowly shook her head.  “I… I can’t.”

Arlia nodded.  “I’ll see you on our next day off?  We can watch some more movies?”

The Kymari smiled weakly and nodded.  “Okay.  Have a good time at work.”

“Same to you!”  Arlia smiled back and walked out of the room.  The door let out the soft ‘ding’ and closed behind her.

The Kymari stood by the door and watched me for a long moment.  I stared back at her, refusing to blink the entire time.  She finally shook her head and walked away, heading off towards the bedroom.

The rest of the day passed uneventfully after that.  I fell asleep for a while, and woke up sometime closer to night.  My leg hurt like I had slept on it wrong, and I didn’t feel very rested - I had never really slept well since Susie had died, and being able to sleep on the small blanket actually seemed to help some, but it still wasn’t the same.  I ate some of the fruit that had been left in the dish and drank my fill of the water, then I moved to sprawl out in the bowl of sand and watch the sky through the window.

The limited view of the stars and the skyline was still peaceful to look at, and the sand was warm.  I lost track of time as I lay there and relaxed.

The sky eventually began to grow brighter.  I felt the sense of anticipation that came before the Morning Song and I slipped carefully out of the bowl of sand.  I shook myself off, making the gentle chiming sound as I scattered the sand out of my scales and onto the floor, then glanced towards the door of the cage.  It was still closed.

I frowned and pushed at it.  It refused to budge - it was still clasped shut.  I hissed in annoyance… and the sound made my ear tufts droop.  The sound was out of place with the growing excitement of the Morning Song.  It simply did not belong at the dawn of a new day.

I warbled dejectedly and walked towards the wall of the cage closest to the window.  If it came to it I could just sing inside - the shade had been left open, and I could see the window from the cage.  The angles weren’t quite right, and I felt sad at the thought that I wouldn’t be able to clearly see the sun… but I could manage.

I sat up and peered at the window, swishing my tail anxiously behind me… then looked away when I heard a sound from the bedroom.  I looked and saw her, stumbling blearily through the hallway in the same unkempt shirt and shorts I had seen her in.  She mumbled something that sounded vaguely like ‘too early to be alive’, then let out a sharp ‘ouch!’ as she hit her foot on the side of the couch.

I blinked slowly at her.

She sighed, muttered under her breath a little bit more, then started walking towards my cage again.  I remembered how wrong my hiss had felt just a moment ago so I stayed quiet, though I took a few steps back and tried to spread my wings as much as the cast would allow - which turned out to be not at all, but sometimes it’s the thought that counts.

The Kymari reached the cage and fiddled with the clasp at the door until it fell open, then she moved back to collapse onto the couch with a tired yawn.

I rolled my eyes and slipped out of the cage, then hopped over to the windowsill to wait on the sun.  I leaned closer and closer to the glass as the sky grew brighter and brighter… then the first rays of light appeared, and I opened my mouth to sing.

Trills and warbles of warmth filled the apartment as I sang out the bubbling joy I felt at the sun’s return.  I ached to jump into the air and give the new day the greeting it truly deserved… but I still couldn’t, not yet, so I poured all my energy into my singing instead.

I let the last notes of my song die down into a hum once the sun had finished rising, and simply watched the sun for a few more minutes.  It still didn’t feel quite the same, still had that same tiny emptiness buried somewhere in all the excitement and energy… but… I was slowly becoming used to that.  I finally turned away from the window and looked back to the room.

The Kymari was facing me from the couch with the recording device pointed at me, but she didn’t seem to be aware of me.  Something was wrong with her.  She was shaking slightly, which caused the device to tremble slightly in the hand holding it.  Her other hand was covering her face, preventing me from getting a clear view of her eyes.  And… what was that sound?...

My ears suddenly fell, and my wings would have followed if not for the cast holding them in place at my sides.  I sank lower to rest against the short ledge before the window.  I suddenly felt very uncomfortable, and even more strangely, I felt worried.

She was crying.

I watched her quietly from the window.  I had the strangest urge to cross the room towards her, and to sit on her shoulder and nudge her chin with my head, and to comfort her.  The way she had tried to do when she had pet me on those sedatives, or brought me berries out in the forest, or any of the other things she had done lately… but that urge was immediately matched by the much more familiar urge to stay as far away from the person who had killed Susie as possible.  If she was upset about something, then that was a good thing… or… it should be, shouldn’t it?

I should be happy right now.  I should be glad that the person who had hurt me so deeply was now feeling some of that pain herself, whatever the cause had been.  I should be piling on, I should be trying to get over there and slash her to pieces while she was distracted with whatever it was that had upset her.  That would be nothing less than what she deserved.  That would be just.  What I was watching now was right.

I kept trying to tell myself that… but I could only feel the same hollow, unbalanced feeling that I always felt lingering inside the Morning Song of late.

“I can’t… everybody will be so angry...”  Her words were barely more than a whisper in between her sobs.  She sniffled, and rubbed at her eyes… then took her hand away from her eyes to look back at me.  Her expression was a strange mixture of sadness and happiness, as if she had just seen something so beautiful that it had moved her to the tears she was now crying, and she blinked against the growing light of the sun beyond me.  “But you still deserve that I try.”

She sniffled again and set the recording device on the table.  She picked up the larger tablet and pushed a few buttons on it, then sat back on the couch and wrapped her arms around it.  A few seconds passed, then I heard a new voice in the room.

“Elder Naishi’s office.”

“Hello, I’m trying to reach Elder Naishi.  We spoke yesterday and she was expecting some information from me.”

“The Elder is in a meeting at the moment.  Would you like to leave a message?”

The Kymari smiled slightly on the couch and nodded to herself.  “Yes.  Please let her know that Minna called - and that my answer is yes.  She’ll understand.”

I hopped back to the end table and slipped back into my cage.  I didn’t really feel up to exercising on the table outside the cage now.  I stretched out on the warm sand and soaked up the heat from the lamp near the wall.

The Kymari had decided to try and keep me.  To manipulate me into liking her - her, after what she had done!  To try and replace Susie, as someone who would watch out for me, as my friend.  That should upset me.  That should make me hate her all the more.

But as I watched her continue sniffling on the couch, all I really knew was… that it didn’t.

Twenty-nine more sunrises.