Page 62

Keahi

I lay awake for hours after Malia left and only get little sleep.

Every time I fall asleep, I wish I hadn’t because my dreams are filled with cloaked strangers and a sad, and occasionally angry, Malia.

Most of them end with me dying, but the worst ones were the ones I lost Malia one way or another. Watching her walk out of reach, crying. Watching her lie on the floor with a tear through her middle, dying.

I’m really glad when I can finally get up and start my day even if it’s earlier than usual.

I find ways to keep myself busy until it’s time to meet up with Wystan, such as cleaning my house, which was desperately necessary.

I move on to doing laundry, also something I’ve been putting off for too long, and end up getting breakfast at a cute bistro.

I can hardly keep my food down since images of Malia’s face and all the blood last night keep flashing through my mind.

I finally meet up with Wystan at the same place as I did the day before.

One day before- has it really been that short? It feels like a lifetime has passed since I comforted my partner in these woods.

"Wow, dude, you look like hell!" Wystan barely contains their laughter as I walk closer to them.

"Almost went there last night, so just zip it," I am way too tired for this right now.

I walk past them and drop my bag near a tree.

"Hang on, what do you mean you almost went to hell? Did you try to kill yourself or something? Without me? At this point, you and our rants about Malia are the only things I look forward to in life.

Don’t let it get to your head though, the bar is beneath the floor.

Point is, if you’re ending it, I’m coming with you," Wystan goes on, and it feels like the annoying kid back at the academy is talking to me.

"Shut up Wystan.

No, I didn’t try to kill myself, two cloaked strangers beat me to it.

Also, don’t bring Malia into this," I say tiredly. My head is pounding already, and I just want to leave again. Scratch that, anything is better than being left alone with my treacherous mind, but this right here is a close second.

"How about we start with those two strangers and work our way to why you’re back to being Malia’s lap dog," they taunt lazily, their face a mask of mockery.

I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to hit someone more.

"Last night when I got home, two Shadow Handlers ambushed me.

Did a pretty good job with that too because I almost bled out on my kitchen floor.

Totally would’ve if Malia hadn’t been there to save the day. Don’t ask how she found me in time. It’s a long story. The point is; she saved my life, and we talked a little, so you’ll need someone else to rant about her with." I’d think my tone was suggesting this conversation was over, but I guess Wystan doesn’t catch the memo since they bark out a laugh.

"Why am I not surprised it took her all of five seconds to wrap you back around her pinky? What, did she tell you whatever she said to hurt you so much was all a joke? A lie? Oh, oh, I got it now! It was for some ulterior motive, right? Surely for a totally selfless and very noble reason.

Was it to protect you?" They study me for a moment before laughing ironically again.

"Of course, it was. Because she is always the big hero and would never toy with people for her own entertainment. She’s a top-tier manipulator though, I’ll give her that.

"C’mon Keahi, you’re smarter than this.

She is just trying to figure out how many times she can push you away until you stop running back.

Watch her bring the big guns out when she gets really desperate. I’m sure she’ll even tell you she loves you if that is what it takes."

My blood’s boiling, and I can feel the heat rising up my neck at her last statement.

Ten for ten to Wystan.

I must be really transparent too because Wystan is reading me like a book.

"She did already? Oh, heavens above, Keahi! Don’t tell me you believe her? People don’t hurt the people they love the way Malia clearly hurt you! Stop thinking with your dick and pull yourself together!"

"I’m done talking about this.

Let’s start training already." Skies know I need nothing more than a living punching bag right now.

"Did you bring the weapons?" my partner asks.

"Forgot.

Guess we’ll just use our elements today." Even better.

Wystan and I have mostly trained with any sort of weapon rather than our powers since on missions for Arcane, it’s preferred for us to be subtle.

They don’t answer but start attacking me instead.

Straight to the point then, fine.

Finally, I’m winning the way I used to.

My confusion-turned-anger is fueling my blazing source, and Wystan doesn’t stand a chance.

This always has been and always will be the best release for my emotions.

I thought I believed Malia before I came here.

There’s no way yesterday was all an act, right? If it was then someone better get that woman an Oscar right now.

Everything that Wystan said is making sense, too.

All the boxes seem to check, and I’m not sure if my believing Malia is just my heart ruling over my head.

But Wystan wasn’t there yesterday.

They didn’t see the raw emotions on Malia’s face and didn’t hear what she had to say.

I know Malia the way Wystan hasn’t for ages. I do, don’t I? How am I supposed to know?

I can’t figure it out, so I should probably stop trying.

Malia said we’ll talk when everything’s settled, so I’ll wait for that to happen.

It will make sense once we talk, and I’ll know what to do then. Until that time comes, I need to push these distracting thoughts away and focus on my job.

"Okay, geez, we’re done for today.

This has scarred my ego so drastically, I will personally make sure the weapons are here tomorrow and every day after that.

Training is seriously more fun when I kick your ass," Wystan pants after I’ve won another round. I don’t bother helping them up but just take my things and leave. The two of us might’ve bonded a little yesterday, but I’m not in the mood for human interactions right now.

Another two days pass similarly.

Shitty days where I just snap at every poor soul that comes too close to me and haunting nights that allow my busy head to run a mile a minute.

Wystan hasn’t tried to talk to me again beyond what’s necessary to train, which I appreciate. I have nothing to say to them or anyone else.

Malia hasn’t tried to reach out to me either, but maybe things just aren’t settled yet.

It has my scorn towards her growing too, unreasonably as it may be.

Flint has tried to reach me a couple of times, but I’ve been ignoring him.

Whatever he has to say is unlikely to help my mood, so I’ll deal with it some other time.

Wystan and I have just finished training and are bringing the weapons back inside the guard’s facility when Flint runs up to us.

"You look like shit," I remark when he stops in front of me, his arms crossed, and a withering look on his face.

"Careful, I’m still your superior.

We need to talk, and since you’ve been screening my calls, here I am.

You can bring back the weapons," he says, directing the last part at Wystan. "This’ll take a while." He then quickly turns on his heels, not even waiting for me to follow.

I drop the bag of weapons at Wystan’s feet and jog after Flint.

My partner strings a bunch of colorful curses together behind my back but it’s barely enough to raise my spirits.

Another person that wants to fucking talk to me. Yay!

I catch up with Flint and he leads me into an empty meeting room.

"What’s up, boss?" I ask lazily.

Flint’s obviously furious with me, so might as well make a game out of it.

It’s not like he can punish me much more than he already did by giving me a partner.

"Right, I’m your boss, so treat me as such.

You can’t just ignore my fucking calls, you idiot! It’s not my job to hunt you down." He takes a deep breath and runs his hands through his hair.

I wasn’t lying before; he really does look like shit. "Besides, you’re going to want to know this."

"I doubt it," I mutter under my breath.

"It’s about Malia," my superior goes on.

My heart skips a beat, although I conceal my worry with a shrug.

If she were dead, I would have known by now. Anything else doesn’t concern me.

"Last time I checked, she’s your problem now." A fact that I gate more than I can put into words.

"I can’t believe you.

And I certainly can’t believe her for having done all that shit for you." A humorless laugh leaves Flint’s lips before he pulls himself together and shakes his head.

"You don’t want to know? Fine, then go.

But if you leave now, I’ll personally make sure she learns of this when she wakes up.

I’ll tell her where your concerns lay when she wasn’t here to see it for herself." Hang on, what? My mind shutters at his words.

"What do you mean ‘when she wakes up’?"

"I mean, she’s been out cold for three days now.

Completely unresponsive since she staggered into her room a few nights ago."

"Three days? She’s been like that for three days and I’m learning about this now?" I snap.

"Oh, no.

No, no, no.

You would’ve known the morning after if you had picked up your damn phone when I called." He’s right. Holy fuck, and here I was being angry at her for not reaching out.

"Where is she?" I ask quickly.

"Infirmary-" I don’t waste another second before rushing out the door and sprinting through the halls.

I’m faintly aware of Flint’s footsteps behind me, but I don’t bother slowing down until I burst through the double doors of the infirmary.

I quickly scan the room and run to Malia’s bed.

She doesn’t look hurt or injured, she looks as if she’s simply sleeping.

I gently touch her cheek with the back of my hand. Her skin’s not cold, though almost as pale as the night she saved me.

"Since when did you say she’s been like this?" I ask without turning around, an ugly sense of foreboding souring my stomach.

"She was supposed to arrive here on Friday, but she didn’t make it back until early in the morning on Saturday.

She was pale and trembling, her clothes covered in blood, and wouldn’t answer me even then.

I don’t know what happened on her way back, but she quickly passed out and hasn’t woken up since. She wasn’t injured and no one has been able to find anything wrong with her." I think Flint keeps talking, but I can’t hear him.

Friday, that’s the night I was attacked, the night I drove Malia away after she saved me.

My world is tipping slowly, and I stagger back into a chair nearby.

"What?" Flint asks when I suck an audible breath into my tight lungs.

"I know what happened Friday, but I don’t know why she’d be like this." I look back at Malia, just realizing now that an infusion is set in her arm and a monitor is keeping track of her vitals on the other side of her bed.

I didn’t notice anything wrong with her when she left.

Her feelings were hurt, but that was it, wasn’t it? Had I been too distracted to take a proper look at her?

"Don’t tell me you had anything to do with this," Flint says from behind me.

"I don’t – Maybe.

I don’t know.

Malia was on her way here when she saw two Shadow Handlers leave my home. They had attacked me, and I was injured pretty badly. Malia saved me, but I didn’t notice anything wrong with her when I woke up. Nothing like this." I don’t want to talk about this, especially not with Flint, but maybe he has answers. I need to know that this wasn’t my fault.

"Hurt how badly exactly?" Flint asks.

"I thought I was dead." I pull my shirt up to show him the long scar reaching across my stomach.

"No idea how she could fix me up in time, but it was certainly close.

Why, do you think it could have to do something with that?" Flint rubs his neck before meeting my eyes.

"I’ve heard about people using their soul’s source to heighten their powers.

Small bits for an extra kick, so to say.

But we’re not supposed to do that. It’s incredibly draining not to mention dangerous. But if you were really that close to biting the grass, I don’t doubt Malia would’ve given anything and everything a try to save you." There’s a pause only to be interrupted by another one of Flint’s cold chuckles.

"And to think you didn’t even have the decency to show up here the one time she needed you when you’re the reason she’s here in the first place."

"Shut up," I say, dread, regret, and worry all as one big swirl of self-hatred reaching every last part of myself.

Flint is right.

That’s why I can’t stand hearing it.

Every doubt I had about Malia’s intentions flew out of the window at the first glance at her, and I feel incredibly stupid for even having had them in the first place.

I rub my forehead exasperatedly.

She’ll be fine.

I know she will, she got through so much worse. And me sitting here as pathetically as I am now won’t help her. No idea what will, but this surely won’t.

I straighten my back with one last deep breath and find my place at her side again.

I take her hand in mine and stroke the soft skin over her knuckles before placing a lingering kiss on it.

Please, wake up.

"I guess I’ll get some food and sleep now that you’re here.

You’ll stay, right?" Flint says.

I nod, still looking at the sleeping girl next to me, and faintly hear Flint close the door behind him.

Maybe I imagined it, but did he seem disappointed? About what exactly, I don’t know.

Has he been staying with her all this time? Malia told me nothing happened between them, but they’ve been spending some time together.

Maybe he cares about her.

That would explain his rough appearance and anger toward me.

I surely would be angry if anyone treated my friend like I’ve been treating Malia.

That reminds me, I should apologize to Wystan, but they’ll have to wait until Malia is better.

Whatever Malia is to Flint, I feel strangely grateful to him for keeping her company.

It also sounded like he was waiting for her on Friday.

Thank the skies for that because who knows when someone would have found her otherwise.

I thought I was going to die alone, and although I don’t know how aware Malia was of her condition, I’d hate it if was feeling scared and alone.

She’s done that enough for one life.

So, whether Flint was worried about her or just that his precious prisoner ran away, I’m glad he was there.

With only the two of us in the infirmary, it’s terribly quiet, so I do what I’m best at when I’m nervous.

I start rambling.

"Did you know regulars made a really big thing out of sports? I mean universally kind of big.

We didn’t learn about that in school, and I’m not sure just how much television you could watch at camp so – I watched a game of the soccer world cup going on right now.

Every four years, teams of eleven players come together from all over the world to run after one ball from opposite sides of a field. Or something like that, I haven’t looked into it too deeply.

"You’d hate it, probably.

The teams are all men, though there is the same thing for women.

It’s just less popular, for some reason. I guess that’s just because the fandom consists mostly of people attracted to men but whatever." I trail off since that’s all I know about soccer.

I’ve heard you’re supposed to talk about happy stuff with people in a coma, if that is what Malia’s in, so here I am.

I really just want to apologize and beg her to wake up, but that’s not exactly the definition of spreading good vibes.

I’ve talked to Malia for hours on end and about every possible topic, only taking a short break when her nurse shooed me out to wash her and whatnot.

By the time I finally shut up and sit back in my chair, the moon and stars have come out.

I try to stay awake and keep an eye on Malia just in case she decides to wake up, but inevitably fall asleep.

I wake up when steps approach and find Flint walking toward me with a paper bag of food.

"Figured you’d be hungry by now," he says, throwing the bag at me.

He looks a lot more like himself today.

The nurse that keeps checking up on Malia comes back and does her job again.

"Thank you, by the way.

I forgot to say it yesterday, but it means a lot that you stayed with her.

I’m sure she’ll really appreciate it. I know I do." I’m not great at sentimental stuff like this, but I can suck it up this once.

"I thought at least someone should," my superior replies.

I can’t even argue with him.

I totally deserved that jab.

"You’re right.

I don’t have an excuse other than that I was a confused idiot, but it won’t happen again.

You can tell her whatever you want when she wakes up, I’ll just be here as well. No way I’m leaving her side again until she tells me to." The two of us are quiet after that, and the nurse awkwardly hurries off.

Flint stays around all day, lounging on one of the empty beds nearby with his headphones in as I talk to our sleeping beauty.

I’m in the middle of telling her the tale of bigfoot when I hear her groan.

I’m not that bad of a storyteller, c’mon.

I’m almost offended before it hits me; Malia just made a sound! That’s more than she’s done since I came here, so it must be good.

"Malia?" I ask excitedly before yelling to Flint, "She’s awake! She’s waking up! Malia, can you hear me?" Flint’s beside me in no time, and both of our full attention is on the girl before us.

"Malia, can you hear me?" I ask again.

Please don’t let it be a false alarm.

But I don’t think it is because now, the girl’s eyes flutter.

"Princess, please open your eyes." I’m so desperate to see those pretty blues glare at me again, it’s ridiculous.

I’m holding her hand gently and feel a finger twitch.

I share a quick glance with Flint to see him mirror my excitement.

Though, he’s holding back a lot better than me.

Another soft groan slips from Malia before she crunches her nose and opens her eyes with visible effort.

A crazy, relieved laugh bursts out of me when her eyes lock with mine, and Flint joins in.

I can’t help but pull Malia in a hug as best as I can while she’s still lying down, feeling Flint take part in it as well as he crushes my arm around her between their bodies.

"What on earth is up with you two? Let a girl breathe!" Malia complains in a husky voice, and reluctantly, the two of us give her some space.

"What time is it?" Malia asks before taking a look at her surroundings.

"Why on earth am I in the infirmary?"

"It’s five pm," Flint answers, and Malia’s eyeballs nearly topple out of their sockets.

"I’ve slept through the whole day?" she asks incredulously.

"Well, you kind of slept through four."

"Almost five," Flint chimes in.

"That’s why you’re here," I finish.

Malia blinks at the two of us.

Then, she bursts out laughing.

"Ah, you almost had me there for a second.

Top-class acting, guys, really!" Flint and I share a look, and when Malia sees that, she sobers a little.

"You’re not joking, are you?" she asks after some silence and a few glances between Flint and me.

"Well then, what did I miss?" she demands, straightening up on the bed.

"Nothing, really.

I think the world might actually revolve around you because shit was boring around here while you were taking that inappropriately long nap," my superior replies, and I gape a little.

What was that? Since when does Flint joke?

"Took you a while to figure that out.

Now, please get this tube out of my arm before I take a look at it and faint." The nurse is already rushing inside the room.

I guess she heard me yell. Ups.

I hold Malia’s hand, or more like she squeezes the life out of mine, while the nurse removes the tube.

"I swear to everything that’s holy, if you let anyone put anything like this inside of me again, coma or no coma, I will make you regret it," Malia threatens fully serious.

Or serious enough for me to raise my hands in surrender and the nurse to flee.

"I’ll leave the two of you to talk now.

I’ll see you tomorrow.

Don’t do anything else to get out of work." Flint leaves after a short goodbye from both Malia and me. After the door clicks shut behind him, neither of us can seem to look at each other so the room falls into a tense silence.

"You don’t have to stay," Malia breaks the silence, so I force myself to meet her gaze, shaking my head.

I step closer to the bed and take the girl’s hand.

"I am not leaving you.

Not unless you want me to." I wait for a beat to see if she has any objections.

When she stays quiet, I go on. "Malia, I am so sorry. I’m sorry for pushing you away after you saved my life, sorry for not understanding what you did for me and letting you leave the way you did four nights ago.

"I regret not believing in you when you pushed me away after the battle against the Dark Fraction and sorry for not being convinced when you told me what happened on Friday.

I’m sincerely sorry it took me so long to come here.

I ignored Flint’s calls and only learned about your condition yesterday. I was so angry and confused and wrongfully took it out on you.

"It’s just that the things you told me before Flint took you as a prisoner were really fucking hurtful.

I understand why you did it, or I think I do, but I didn’t back then.

I just believed you so easily because you aimed at all my doubts and insecurities." I lift my gaze from the point on the ground I was fixating on only to see Malia staring at me with glassy eyes. C’mon, she hasn’t even been awake for an hour!