Lavender Snow

Anticipation

Tommy doodled absently. His sketchbook had maybe ten blank pages left in it. He'd send in a request for a new one tomorrow. Most of his sketchbooks were in a similar state as this one, stuffed with scribbles save for a few empty pages at the end. He preferred not to finish them. It felt like he was saying goodbye when he did that.

His charcoal snapped in half. He tossed it aside and grabbed another. They weren't allowed pencils, so he made do with the blackened lumps leftover in the fireplace by the end of the day.

He smudged the edges of the drawing, then tapped on the wall to get his roommate's attention. Ranboo! Let me see your tattoo.

Ranboo turned his head so Tommy could see the tiny symbol. Tommy examined it for a moment, then nodded and went back to his drawing.

The tattoos sat under the right eye of everyone in the apartments. Each detailed a tiny purple dragon fiercely protecting a star compass. Tommy had memorized his own long ago, but every tattoo was unique in some way, so Ranboo's was curled on the ground instead of standing up straight like Tommy's.

He blew away the charcoal crumbs and held the picture back up. Ranboo glanced over, and nodded. Good job with the vitiligo. It looks nice.

Tommy bounced a little on the mattress, pleased with Ranboo's assessment. He'd hang it up once he found a place for it on his wall, already plastered with drawings of the other residents in the apartment.

A small beep made him and Ranboo look up. Tommy's screen was flashing. "Fully charged," the robotic woman's voice read out. "Notifying Fai now."

The monitor on Tommy's ankle unlatched. He hesitated, then set down the sketchbook to rub at the raw skin.

Ranboo knocked on the wall. That's. . . good.

Tommy shrugged. Yeah. Great.

Maybe he'll take it later, Ranboo tapped. Or maybe he won't take as much.

It's fine, Tommy smiled. I'm happy to do it.

Ranboo gave a grin back.

Another beep came from above a few minutes later. Tommy didn't have to look up to know it was for him. "1732, please report to the office immediately."

He silently closed his sketchbook, shoving it into his drawer. The broken charcoal went in the trash chute. Tommy slid off his bed, then stretched and left the room.

The hallway was as long and silent as it was the day he arrived. The rules were all there, too, either carved or painted on the walls by past residents.

No one remembered who had made the rules. It was always a fierce debate in the apartment's cafeteria. Some thought the Enderians had come up with them, to keep them safe and respectful. Others believed some past Elytrian emperor had established them when the first Enderians were brought to the Essempí. Tommy didn't really care who had made the rules, because in the end it only mattered that they were followed.

He stepped into the elevator and lowered his gaze to the floor. At least the builders had been considerate when designing it. The floor was made up of reflective tiles, so he could see if someone was coming near him. Accidentally making eye contact would be a stupid way to get discarded.

The elevator let him off at the main level with a bing. Tommy checked his smile in his reflection and walked over to the front desk. Fai was waiting there expectantly, tapping his fingers on the purple wood.

"Ah, here it is!" He bellowed. "The star of the night!"

"It's morning," the receptionist said absently behind the desk.