Gears of Harmony

Episode 7 - The Unending Days

I opened my eyes only to find white ceiling that looked very familiar. As my gaze lowered, I spotted my beige blanket, along with a few bumps where my legs were. I reached for my phone and turned it on. The bright display showed "05:30", ten minutes before my alarm rang. My eyes darted towards the top notification bar, which to my dismay has nothing on it but a calendar notification saying, "Happy Birthday".

...

Oh, it's... my birthday, I guess.

I turned my attention to my cold, disheveled room. Deciding that it felt a bit depressing to think about, I closed my eyes again as I felt the sense of eternity weighing me down into a sense of constance through a series of unchanging days. As I sunk into my bed, a thought suddenly rose in my head.

It was Saturday. One thing I haven't mention in the beginning is that we also have to choose one extracurricular activity to do on Saturday. Don't ask me why they decided to hold extra activities on weekends, it is not to my favour as well. The activity starts on the second month of the academic year. And it was the first day for extracurricular. The class that I chose was cooking, since I thought it'll be nice to get some extra food for the day.

Oh well, at least there's something new going on today, I thought.

~~~

"Okay, guys, form a team of 5-6 which must consist both girls and boys," said the teacher.

I barely know anyone here... I thought.

I looked around and noticed that there were a few classmates I recognized in the room, grouping together.

Oh, they are my classmates. I think their names are... Dorothy, Sophie, Rin, Isabel, and Xander... I thought, ah, they only have 5 people... perfect!

"Excuse me," I said as I made my way towards them, "do you mind if I join?"

"Yeah sure," said a girl with black hair, called Isabel, "Wina, is it?"'

"Yeah," I said, "nice meeting you guys,"

"Attention everyone," the teacher said, "has everyone gotten their group?"

"Yes, miss," everyone said at the same time.

"Okay, this is your group for the rest of the semester," she said, "no changing since it'll cause a lot of confusion when we're assessing you as a group,"

Well, they seem pretty nice... I thought, nah, I'm not going to be changing groups just because of a problem with the teammate. What a drama queen thing to do.

"Okay, students," said the teacher, "this is the first menu you're going to learn. It's called Croquet Monsieur,"

~~~

When I walked out of the kitchen, the hallway was cramped with students running and joking about. Saturday, after all, is a day for people to let down their hair... or at least, it's supposed to be. I pushed my way through the crowd and zipped past the running boys, dragging my feet to the rooftop. Half of my skirt was dripping wet and there was an obvious frown in my face. I took a turn and noticed a guy reading on the corner as usual.

Yeah... there's always going to be someone in every corner... I thought.

I just nodded politely to him and walked past. He nodded back, before eyeing my drenched skirt. I sat down and carefully placed my skirt in the way the cold fabric wouldn't touch my legs as much.

"...What happened to your skirt?" he asked.

I turned to him stiffly, still with a sour face and sighed.

"If you must know, I had chosen the wrong team to join on cooking class," I said, "they won't let me cook and made me a dishwasher after everything's done. Everyone has gone out for lunch break the past half an hour while I'm stuck washing the dishes,"

Those assh*les... I thought and crossed my arms.

"Huh? Why?" he asked.

"I once read in a book that you should crush a garlic first before peeling it. But these guys made a bit deal out of it just because they wanted to peel the garlic before crushing it. Like, look – it's not that big of a deal!" I said, "I tried to provide the utensils and ingredients, I offered assistance, but to my surprise, they waved me off saying that they don't need them yet. And a few moments later they are panicking, trying to find the utensils I had just brought. Just how rude can they get?"

He kept quiet as he looked at his book.

"To the best of my knowledge, what you read isn't wrong," he said, "but probably people have been taught differently in their homes,"

"I know - can't say I'm used to them yet," I said, "and same goes with dishwashing..."

I sighed as I pulled my wet skirt to the side.

"Oh, and you know what the teacher did?" I asked as I turned to him, "when she saw me washing dishes, she said 'while you're at it' and handed me more dishes - for the utensils she used for demonstration and said something along 'helping out the school',"

He looked at me, trying to seem concerned but at the same time looked like he was about to laugh. Then he turned back to his book.

"Well, that's not fair," he said, "dividing roles is efficient, but that way you're not gonna learn much since they're taking up all the fun part,"

Sighing, I opened a mealbox filled with the food I cooked in the cooking class. No, the food the others made, to be precise.

At least there's plenty of it... I thought.

The two of us said nothing else to the other as we sat in silence. I guess I can say my mouth is occupied with food, while his mind was occupied with thoughts and words. I just looked up to the sky, to the drifting fluffy white clouds in the distant, with the blue sky in the background. The sun shone gently, its rays caressed my cheeks slowly. In the silence of the rooftop, somehow the sun felt a little brighter, the breath of air felt fresher, and the troubles seemed faraway from grasp. It was as if... today was going to be a good day. Maybe it would have been, if the feel of cold, wet fabric on my skin didn't remind me of how annoying people can be.

Just how much longer... does this have to go on? I thought.

~~~

I walked back to my dorm in the afternoon, dragging my feet back as I inhaled the familiar scent of my room. I locked my door and checked my phone, as always. To my surprise, a few notifications have popped in then - though not from a social media app. Rather, the search engine itself. My heart skipped a beat as soon as I read the headline. I plopped down on a nearby chair as my eyes scanned the headlines. 

"Non-mages encouraged to evacuate to the eastern region immediately".

"Due to the current tensions in the border, a protest was held in the Capital's Town Hall to drive non-mages back to the Eastern Island, with signs ranging from 'get out of our country!' to 'enjoy the cold shithole you created'. Three non-mages were reportedly injured by protestors when walking down the street. Ignatio Baker, the head of Eastern region, urged non-mages to stay safe and announced free transport for all the non-mages going back to the Eastern region."

My head grew warm as I tried to gather my thoughts in that moment of silence.

In that plain white room stuffed with school supplies, a beige bed, grey mouldy carpet, and wooden wardrobe like any other in the building.

In that curtained room with no light coming in where the walls closed in.

In that air which smelled like floral shampoo and stuffed wardrobe, laced with the scent of the sun and dust. 

Everything felt so real, yet surreal at the same time.

The tears falling out of my face,

The warmth garnering in my eyes,

The cold caress of the tears.

I will never be able to go back to the life I had.