Work Text:
The noise of the street outside dulled to a numb rumble as the electronic lock beeped and the door behind Stelle closed. She hefted one bag over her shoulder and carried the other up multiple flights of stairs, the weight of each growing heavier with each step she ascended. She came to the number she had recently memorised and unlocked her apartment door and pushed her way inside. The air was still and light shone stark rays through unsettled dust. With a frown she decided that she needed to get those curtains in sooner rather than later.
Sliding a bag off her shoulder, Stelle let it tumble onto the floor with an audible thump. Her eye twinged as the impact reverberated through the floor. She had to be conscious of downstairs neighbors now. That’d take some getting used to. She slung the second bag off her back and set it down on the ground next to the other.
Empty steps echoed as she walked past piles of cardboard boxes yet to be unpacked and into the living room, barren as it was. There wasn’t much in the way of living in it yet, bar that of a single coffee table and a lone couch serving as an island in an otherwise lifeless room.
It only took a moment until she found herself draped listlessly over the couch. She didn’t fight her heavy eyelids and allowed her head lean back. A master’s degree in Advanced Genetics and Medical Theory— it was thanks to her talent at baseball and a personal scholarship from Ruan Mei that she was about to comfortably secure her diploma and have a job already waiting for her. She won’t let past mistakes repeat. What happened before, the suffering that… she endured. It would not be in vain.
And to that end, her gruelling tenure at university had finally concluded. Although she’d come to appreciate it to some extent. She’d needed the unending hours of lectures, presentations and sporting achievements to keep her focused, keep her mind from going elsewhere.
She was lucky that she had a job lined up for after she graduated, otherwise she feared the silence would drive her to madness. The plan was already set. Her proposal was already drafted, and backed by Ruan Mei herself. With a mind like hers behind Stelle she had already managed to make contact with several organizations in order to obtain the numerous public grants she would need.
Stelle grit her teeth. She would finish what Glamoth had started. Only this time it would be done correctly. There would be no more exploitation, no more suffering, no more secrecy. All of her research would be made public knowledge, guaranteeing that there would be no chance anyone could twist things to their own selfish benefit.
“Ugh,” Stelle groaned and rubbed her temples. She forced her eyes back open and began to creak back into motion. She’d fallen into the age-old trap of letting herself relax.
A distraction was what she really needed, and so she pushed herself off the couch and trudged lazy steps over to the kitchen area. She dug through the mess of a hastily organised cabinet in search of her kettle. Stelle managed a chuckle to herself as she filled it with water and placed it on the stove. The smile on her face faltered when she made eye contact with her reflection in the window before her.
Stelle flicked the small hob on and found her thoughts back to Himeko and how she would be cursing her out of the house if she were here to witness this treachery. Their home had always been a place where coffee had reigned sacred, despite how Himeko loved her drink darker than the midnight sky. Stelle had grown quite used to it, fond of it even, despite her own misgivings.
But it wasn’t until she had visited Kafka’s place one morning when an alternative drink was placed in front of her.
Tea.
It wasn’t until regular meetings with Ruan Mei that tea had become a habit. Free from Himeko’s sphere of influence, the former beverage had become a sparse presence in her daily life, with tea taking its place nearly in full. Every now and then she’d surprise a barista with the details of her order, but only as a means to power through the consequences of a prior all-nighter.
Stelle recalled the moment that first cup of hot tea touched her lips, she was a changed woman. She remembered the look Kafka gave her, knowing, and satisfied. Of course when Himeko found out, both of them received a proper scolding. Kafka for influencing her, and Stelle for siding with the enemy. Mild yet bitter, smooth and comfortable. A stark contrast to the scouring heat Himeko preferred. Stelle supposed that’s what made them work so well together. Something they’d finally come to accept themselves.
When Stelle had left for university, Himeko had been left as an empty nester. While it was a nice treat to visit her childhood during breaks, her visits had become less and less frequent with her increasing workload and that left her worried for Himeko, and the loneliness she had to endure.
Not to mention Kafka. Blade had moved out not long after the one year anniversary of Firefly’s passing with his business having been concluded. For a while all that remained of a once lively house of four was one, and her overweight black cat. Until Himeko finally took the repeated hints to heart and moved in with her.
There were so many experiences, so many fond memories that she had made there. Yet it was those very same memories that haunted her. Firefly’s bedroom remained undisturbed. The physical manifestation of memories passed. And that painful reminder of what once was would hit her every time she went to visit her mother.
That tempest of emotions which roiled within her had dulled over the years, but never quite abated. Despite that though, it gave Stelle some peace of mind knowing that neither of them would be alone any longer. They had each other, even if she didn’t see them as often.
Stelle’s reflection in the window became clouded as rising steam misted over it. She peered beyond and out over the small balcony she had, down to the bustling streets of Pier Point. How many graduates must there be down there now? She didn’t know, nor did she allow herself to care.
Guinaifen and the others invited her out to celebrate their success. People her age ought to let loose and mingle and she knew that a master’s was no easy feat. Now was as good of an excuse as she’d had in a long time.
But to Stelle it all just felt empty, devoid of meaning and entirely unwarranted. She had no business celebrating when she’d only taken her first step towards her goals. The real work had only just begun, the rest had just been a means to an end.
The kettle whistled its triumph as the water within was finally boiling and Stelle pulled herself away from the window and opened the fridge behind her. There she was faced with her ever present companion. An empty fridge, except for the lone jug of milk tucked away in the door.
She went through the automatic processes of finishing making her tea and leant back on the counter with her elbows to look across her still-new apartment. The piping mug rested to cool by her side. This place had been an absolute steal for its price. Right in the heart of Pier Point and with enough space for two people, and that was before you mentioned the balcony. Despite the lack of furnishings, the place was already rather nice. Perhaps in the future it had the potential to become something she could call home. She had a hard time doing that now, however.
Stelle glanced over at a stack of cardboard boxes and fixed her eyes on the partially opened one at the top. She could at least do herself a favour and attempt to make it resemble a real living space. Mug in hand, she drifted over to the stack of boxes edging its way into the entrance corridor. She peeled back the lid with one hand and froze. There she saw a downturned picture frame sat on a pile of other personal effects.
Stelle rounded the sofa, placed her tea down on a stained coaster atop the coffee table and impacted the cushions on the sofa hard. She looked down at the back of the frame. She closed her eyes and flipped it over, and reopened them to a bygone memory. A warmth she’d had to let go.
Her high school graduation. Four smiles frozen in time, each one adorned in deep red gowns and proudly presenting their diplomas to the camera. It was as if she were staring at another lifetime. Three friends grouped around the girl at the center of it all. The girl with silver hair and eyes more beautiful than any sunset. Firefly.
They looked happy and innocent in their youth. Laughing and smiling together as if it were the only thing they knew. It had all been so damn fleeting. There she was, standing with all the people she loved as they graduated. And here she was now.
She had lost every one of them.
No, she didn’t lose them. She had made a choice. A difficult choice, but the right one. The path she needed to walk demanded that she move on, and so she did. Leaving memories where they belonged, firmly in the past.
Her grip on the frame tightened as warmth began to pool in her eyes. Then why—
Why did she still miss them?
She missed them. All of them. March, Dan Heng, Firefly. Her heart still yearned for them, all the while her rational mind pulled her in the opposite direction. There had been no other choice. She couldn’t save Firefly, she didn’t deserve her friends, it was the right choice to let them go. For all of them. The burden she carried was hers alone. It wasn’t fair for them to bear it alongside her.
Was that all that Firefly was to her now? A burden?
Quiet sobs wracked her body. Tears trailed down her cheeks. Buried doubt seeped through the freshest cracks in her concrete will. Was this the best she could do to honor her life? Cursed to carry her memories in chains no matter how heavily they weighed her down and continue her work,
What the fuck was wrong with her?
Why couldn’t she just be happy like Firefly wanted?
Why did she have to die and leave her alone? Why was she stuck here asking the same stupid questions that she wouldn’t get a damn answer to?
This wasn’t what Firefly wanted, it wasn’t what Stelle had promised. But Stelle needed closure, and this was the only path forward that she could take. Only after she could ensure that tragedy would never repeat itself could she find peace. Only then could she live.
The creeping doubt finally broke free.
When all of this was over, when Stelle had completed her task, what would she do?
Stelle’s shoulders sloughed to either side and the picture frame dropped to her lap. It wasn’t a doubt that she’d buried, but the truth. A truth so ugly and beautiful that she could do nothing with it but pretend it didn’t exist, dig a hole for it and pave over the thing with righteous anger and the furious pursuit of some kind of justice.
The truth was that her life had ended then, with Firefly’s.
Stelle’s hands trembled and her vision unfocused as she simply tried to comprehend what she could not. She did not recognise herself in that picture below because she was not that little girl so full of light anymore. That girl was dead.
Then, who was sitting here now?
An indeterminate amount of time passed between her and the photograph, its glass screen now dappled with countless fallen tears. Mind numb, Stelle’s gaze lifted from the smiles that felt too distant and listlessly lifted her limbs into motion. She made her way with the framed picture across the room, past her cold tea and toward an empty mantle. There she placed it, made a few micro adjustments and stepped back.
Four smiles watched her cry as she stood alone in an empty room. Still and unchanging as the world moved on around her.
A sharp buzz from her back pocket shocked her out of her trance. It buzzed again and again. Someone was trying to call her. She reached into her pocket and was readying herself to take a call from Ruan Mei or one of her labhands.
Her heart dropped. Where she had been expecting her norm, there was March 7th. Calling her. But why? Why now? She let the buzzing die in her hand and the screen shut off without ceremony, leaving a dark reflection of her tear stricken face. Silence reigned once more. Stelle looked up at the photo now standing on the mantle, then back down to her phone.
There they had once been. Together, and smiling. Happy.
Stelle didn’t allow herself time to think, she clicked on her phone and pressed on March’s contact.
The phone barely rang once, and March’s bubbly voice came like the first sun through storm clouds.
