32 GB - Mikhaiah Fanfiction

12 - Searching for Something

Cebu City - April 11, 2024

Days passed, and our search for answers continued to turn up nothing but dead ends. Each new lead seemed promising at first, but eventually, they all fizzled out, leaving us more frustrated and exhausted than before. I could see the weariness in Aida's eyes, the weight of uncertainty pulling her down.

One afternoon, after another long session of research that led nowhere, I noticed how quiet she had become. Aida was usually so composed, even in the face of all this strangeness, but I could tell she was reaching her limit. I set aside the laptop and turned to her.

"Maybe we should take a break," I suggested gently. "We've been at this for days, and it's starting to wear us both out."

Aida looked at me, her brow furrowed as if she wasn't sure what to say. "But we haven't found anything yet," she murmured. "What if we're running out of time?"

"I know," I replied, "but I think we need to clear our heads. Maybe stepping away for a bit will help us see things more clearly. Besides, I think at this point we both do not know how time works and if we found a way, we could just time travel back again and again at a certain point, I don't think we'll run out of time."

She hesitated, clearly torn, but eventually, she sighed and nodded. "You're probably right."

I smiled, relieved. "How about we do something different? Just for today. We could go out, take a walk, maybe grab a bite to eat. No pressure, no searching—just a little rest."

Aida seemed to consider this, and then, slowly, a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "That sounds... nice."

And so, a few hours later, we found ourselves walking through a park near my apartment. The late afternoon sun bathed everything in a warm glow, and for the first time in days, it felt like we could breathe a little easier.

We ended up at a cozy café and restaurant with outdoor seating, where we ordered coffee and sandwiches. The conversation flowed easily, lighter than it had been in days. We talked about everything and nothing—how different the world was now compared to the 1950s, the little quirks we noticed in each other, and even the things we missed about our respective times.

At some point, the conversation shifted to more personal topics. I found myself sharing stories from my childhood, memories I hadn't thought about in years. Aida listened intently, her eyes bright with interest, and when she laughed at one of my more embarrassing anecdotes, I realized just how much I enjoyed making her laugh.

In turn, Aida shared more about her life in the 1950s—her dreams, her passions, the things she loved and lost. There was a wistful tone in her voice that tugged at something deep inside me, a mix of admiration and empathy that I couldn't quite put into words.

As the evening wore on, the mood between us shifted subtly. I wasn't sure if Aida felt it too, but there was a warmth in her gaze that made me think maybe, just maybe, she did.

After we finished our meal, we wandered through a park, the conversation slowing as we simply enjoyed each other's company. The sky was tinged with the colors of dusk, and the world around us seemed to soften, the edges blurring into a gentle haze.

Eventually, we found a bench beneath a large oak tree and sat down, the silence between us comfortable. I glanced at Aida, who was looking up at the sky, a peaceful expression on her face.

"Thank you," she said suddenly, turning to me. "For today. I didn't realize how much I needed this."

"Me too," I admitted, smiling. "It was... nice, just spending time together like this."

She nodded, her eyes softening as she looked at me. "We should do it again sometime."

My heart skipped a beat at her words, and I found myself nodding before I could fully think it through. "Yeah, I'd like that."

We sat there for a while longer, the world around us growing quieter as night began to fall. There was something special about this moment—something I didn't want to end. And as we eventually made our way back home, I couldn't help but feel that today had brought us closer in a way that neither of us had expected.

When we reached my house, she hesitated at the door, turning to look at me with a thoughtful expression. "Today was... different," she said softly, almost as if she was speaking more to herself than to me. "It felt like I could forget, even just for a little while, everything that's been weighing on me."

I could see the gratitude in her gaze, but there was something else too—something deeper, more personal. Aida had always been guarded, a product of her time and the circumstances she found herself in, but today, it felt like she had let some of that guard down.

"I'm glad," I replied, smiling at her. "We both needed a break."

She nodded, her lips curving into a small smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "It's strange," she began, her voice almost hesitant, "I never imagined that I'd find comfort in something as simple as a walk in the park, or in the company of someone from... this time."

There was a pause, and for a moment, I wasn't sure what to say. But then she looked at me again, and the vulnerability in her expression made my heart ache. "Micah, I'm not used to this. To feeling so... connected with someone in such a short time. It scares me a little."

Her honesty caught me off guard, and I could see the conflict in her eyes—how much she wanted to trust this, to trust me, but also how afraid she was of what it all meant. Of what it might lead to.

"I understand," I said gently, taking a step closer. "This is all new for me too. But... I'm here, to help Aida. And I'm not going anywhere."

Aida looked down, her fingers fidgeting slightly as if she was trying to sort through her thoughts. When she finally looked back up at me, her eyes were softer, more open. "Thank you, Micah," she whispered. "For being so patient with me. For today."

There was a moment of silence, the air between us charged with something unspoken. Then, before I could say anything else, Aida reached out and gently squeezed my hand—a gesture that was both simple and significant. Her touch lingered just a bit longer than usual, and when she pulled away, I could see a hint of color in her cheeks.

"I think I needed today more than I realized," she said, her voice soft but steady. "It helped me remember that... maybe I'm not as alone as I thought."

I felt a warmth spread through me at her words, a quiet reassurance that we were both starting to find our way in this strange situation. "You're not alone, Aida," I said, my voice just above a whisper. "Not anymore."

Aida smiled then, a real, genuine smile that lit up her face in a way I hadn't seen before. It was a moment of connection that felt deeper than anything we had shared up until now, a silent acknowledgment that we were in this together, whatever "this" was.

As we finally made our way inside, I couldn't shake the feeling that today had marked a turning point for us. There was still so much uncertainty ahead, but it felt like we were facing it together, and that made all the difference.