Chapter Text
You step down from the vehicle you've been stuck in for hours. Your legs feel stiff, and your back hurts. At the shelter, you set down your luggage and stretch a little, but you regret it immediately as your stiff neck complains.
"From somewhere far away?" someone asks from behind.
You turn to find an old lady sitting on the bench in the shelter. Her back is bent, and her hair peeking out from under her small hat is completely silver. She clasps her cane with both hands and rests her chin on it. A warm smile spreads across her wrinkled face.
Wait, have you seen her somewhere before?
You sit next to her. There's no reason to hurry where you're heading, after all. You're not here to attend anything... Just...
"Yes, I'm from—"
The moment you name the city, her face brightens.
"Oh, that big city. Many youngsters have left for there. Better jobs." She nods.
You look around. Across the street stands a pub and a general store. They are familiar. Almost the same as you remembered. It feels like you have not just traveled back in space, but also in time. Just... everything's gotten old. Their signs are fading, and the paint on the wall is peeling. The shelter itself is worn and weathered, with deep cracks in the wooden walls.
"So why does a young man like you come here?" the lady asks again.
Within minutes, your hometown welcomes you with its typical scrutiny.
"I'm..."
You mumble, looking for words. The lady suddenly inhales as if she's just remembered something.
"Victor," she says.
You flinch.
"Our little Victor lives there," she continues, nodding and smiling into the air. "Said he's working in a big company. Got a family."
She nods a few more times and turns to you, studying you more carefully.
"You remind me of him," she says.
Now you know where you've seen her.
This is your 'Granny'. The one who raised you and took care of you until you were old enough to live on your own. There was another person, but you push that thought away. That one has stepped away from your life long ago.
"...Granny?" Your voice trembles.
Granny smiles. "You sound just like him. Victor used to call me Granny. Even when my hair wasn't gray." She cackles, then coughs as a cold wind sweeps past the shelter.
Instinctively, you adjust the knitted shawl around her shoulders, providing better cover for her.
"Are you alright?"
"Thank you, young man. You're so kind."
She gives you a soft smile, tapping your hand a few times with hers. Her palm feels warm, wrinkled. Small and fragile.
Unlike some hands you remember.
You shake your head.
She turns her head back, looking ahead.
"So was Victor. Good kid. A little troublesome as a boy, but who isn't?"
Wait, why doesn't she know it's you? True, you also took time to know it's her, but...
"Who's Victor?" you try, watching her carefully.
"My son."
Your heart drops. She still calls you her son. Despite all those years of neglect...
"...Your son?"
She nods, grinning. "Yes. Not born of my blood, but I loved him just as dearly." A pause. "It was a day just like today..."