Blank Slates

Chapter 24

Kairo lounged in his bed, staring up at the ceiling and spacing out. Calix had invited him to go and train together again, but he declined, feeling too apathetic to even care anymore. Instead he sat around in his room doing nothing while Slade read silently to himself in the corner. Kairo's eyes drifted lazily around the space, from the messy sheets hanging off the side of Calix's bed (not that his was any neater), to the chair he had broken (which he was quickly regretting), to the cluttered desk (mainly Slade's stuff). On the edge of one of the shelves sat the paper butterfly given to him by the Blank girl. His two other roommates had given him funny looks when he returned with it, but he decided he didn't want to have to explain himself. And to be fair, he didn't know how to explain it to himself either. Regardless of who she was and his rule not to get too invested, he still saw it as a sweet token and he figured he'd keep it for as long as she was around. If he kept it for longer, it would just make him feel guilty and he couldn't afford to feel like that over his job.

Unable to help himself, Kairo stood up and padded over to the shelf. Taking the paper butterfly into his hand, he studied it carefully, memorizing all the patterns and details as his mind kept on drifting back to her. Her demeanor, her speaking, her posture, everything about her screamed textbook Blank and yet, there was something about her that was drawing him in. That little smile, that pretty laugh, that sweet voice. And those eyes, those deep dark eyes that harbored more pain and trauma than he could even conceive. Her unconquerable spirit, her fighting soul, her unrelenting will was unlike anything he'd seen before. She could not and would not break, would never lose herself completely. She submitted with grace and resisted with power. She was clever and expressed herself both confidently and kindly, standing up to him, but also displaying a rare compassion. How could all this be possible in one person? Every single aspect of her was drawing him in, captivating his senses, controlling his thoughts.

Kairo shook his head. What was he even thinking, getting all sentimental like this? Maybe it was a bad idea to keep the gift. It would probably only lead to worse things. His fingers closed around the paper, about to crumple it up, but it couldn't bring himself to do it. It seemed to stare back at him pleadingly, begging him to spare it. Well...it wouldn't bother him that much if he wasn't constantly looking at it. Sighing, he knelt down and slid a box out from under his bed. The only thing in it was an old decaying letter, and seeing it again made him subconsciously reach up and touch the silver chain around his neck. He gingerly placed the butterfly inside before covering it up again. As he was sliding it back under his bed, his hand bumped against something, causing a dull thump. Raising his eyebrows, he pulled his old guitar out from the darkness, surprised to see it again after quite a long time. Though it was covered in dust, it seemed like it was still in good condition.

"You still have that thing?" Slade asked, having looked up from his book to see what the commotion was all about.

"I guess so," Kairo murmured, brushing the dust off of it and running his fingers over the strings. "I totally forgot I put it under here."

Kairo plucked one of the strings and both of them instinctively cringed at the discordant noise that resonated through the room. Laughing to himself, he sat up on the edge of his bed and began to tune it. The pegs creaked as he turned them and it almost sounded like they were going to pop off. He'd always had a fondness for music, and his mind drifted back to the many long hours he spent alone in the room just playing the instrument, working out new tunes and practicing old ones. He even recalled writing a certain song to impress someone, and he laughed at himself just thinking about how nervous he was. But then there was a period of time where he gave it up to focus on other things, and his guitar lay untouched for years. Not his proudest moment, to say the least, and he regretted falling out of practice. As his fingers slid over the frets and strings, he tried his best to remember how to play again. Slade watched curiously, resting his chin in his hands.