32.3B:《A》Bound to [No/Every]where

“That is a proto-conductor? A working one?”

Sefu sat up straighter in his hospital bed. He held out his hand.

“May I see?”

Atienna rested her hand on the proto-conductor in her lap. “No, you may not.”

Sefu startled. He lowered his hand and cleared his throat. “With all due respect, Atienna, if that truly is a functional proto-conductor, that means it is a dangerous weapon.”

“I am very aware of that fact,” Atienna replied with a smile. “Ah, are you concerned about it being in my possession?” She covered a chuckle with her hand. “Do you not trust me?”

Sefu shook his head. “No, no, it is not that at all. In fact…” He glanced over her shoulder towards the metal fold-up chair adjacent to her and them towards the door. “I trust you holding that much more than I trust the other two.”

“Well fuck you too,” Derik sneered from the doorway.

Renee who sat beside her merely let out a sigh and shrugged. He studied the proto-conductor. “I am curious about the conducting of the person who filled that proto-conductor up. Actually, I’m curious about that person in general. The vitae that is expelled from it is rather unique….”

“I wonder…” Atienna turned over the weapon in her hand. “Perhaps it has to do with the way vitae works here or perhaps this is the result of forcing a proto-conductor to work in these conditions or perhaps someone out there truly has such uniquely colored vitae—although I certainly am no expert.”

“I wonder if the owner of that proto-conductor will be in search of it,” Renee said lightly. “That raincoated mystery copycat of a copycat and their… bodyguard.”

Ah, irritating. 

“Oh, I’m sure they do,” Atienna agreed lightly.

“Nia…” Sefu shook his head. “I cannot believe Nia was with them. And she hurt you too, Atienna?” He clenched his fist. “I have served with her for years. No, she taught me.” He gripped his bedsheets. “It must be that doppelganger. A fake.”

“Or maybe she’s been affected by this place,” Renee suggested. 

Atienna wondered. Yes, that would make things easier, wouldn’t it? Blaming it on a fake or being influenced against one’s will by an outside source. Ah, the freedom in that line of thought, in the existence of Ndoto itself. “Situation and circumstance,” Cadence would have said before Francis raked his fingers through the Twin Cities.

“Enough talking about nonsense,” Derik snapped, waving his hand. He pointed at the proto-conductor. “More talking about what we’re going to do with that.” He slammed his fist against the door frame causing it to rattle. “It’s about time we cut ourselves the fuck out of here.”

Atienna turned the weapon over in her hands slowly before looking up at the men. “You all have people you need to see, don’t you?” She noted how Derik’s scowl deepened, how Renee’s eyes just barely narrowed. “I have some people I would like to see as well. It’s best to bid farewells and confirm things before it all ends, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, fuck that,” Derik grunted. “But it looks like we’re all on the same page.”

Renee frowned. “I am not so sure. Miss Atienna, would it not be best to discuss our discoveries with the larger group? Open communication has always been the best for people like us, no?”

People like us?

Ah.

Atienna slipped the proto-conductor into the bag Cadence had given to her when she first arrived here. It found rest beside the notebook of senseless scribbles she had stopped jotting in long ago.

“Ah… You accompanied me for a reason, didn’t you?” Atienna inquired as she approached the door and turned back to the man. “So… I am a bit surprised you asked that.”

Renee stood.

“Just call me when you get to it,” Derik said.

“Atienna!” Sefu objected, swinging his legs off the bed in protest. “I will come with you. I should have been there when you were at the university the other night—”

Atienna held up a halting hand. “You’re too kind, Sefu.” She paused, thinking. “I wonder… if your presence there would have even changed anything.”

Sefu froze.

“Either way, I’d like to be on my own for a little while. Besides, I need you to be safe, not by my side.”

***

“Atienna? What brings you here?”

Atienna looked away from the window and turned her attention to the two who had just entered the club room. 

She had arrived here in Ndoto University’s club building around noon and this room had been empty then. She’d wandered around the room, running her fingers along the posters on the wall that demanded the gates to be open, that demanded equity not equality, that featured white serpent images somewhere in the background. The film projector had been cold, the curtains drawn open, letting in the warm light from the walkway outside. There were no set ELPIS meetings today according to the agenda she’d found on the central oak table, but the television in the corner had been left and tuned to Marionette Engel’s news station. Evidence of someone’s potential return. Or not. 

She had just been about to slip out when Francis had entered, accompanied not by Charite but by Tau. Ah—rather, Vincente Giustizia. She had bypassed Francis’s pleasantries and Tau’s rambles and had inquired about Jericho’s whereabouts. Francis had politely offered to fetch him while Giustizia insisted that they were too busy. Their business had been of no concern to Atienna so she had merely thanked Francis for his aid.

Now Jericho and Talib stood side-by-side before her.

“You,” Atienna answered lightly, and she did see irony in the fact that the last time she had been here, she had purposefully avoided his presence. She smiled. “Didn’t Francis tell you?”

“He did.” Jericho pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I was more so asking why you wanted to see me?” He shared a look with Talib. “Talib told me what happened the other night. Are you alright?”

Atienna hid a chuckle with her hand. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t, would I? Were you worried? I must have missed the concerned phone call you must have made after Talib told you about it then.”

Jericho’s brows met.

Talib glanced between them, cleared his throat, and tugged on his shirt collar. “I just remembered that I needed to go… do something.” He departed quickly.

“I know you’re quite capable, Atienna,” Jericho said as he approached, “so I wasn’t concerned about your well-being after that, but I am concerned about you visiting out of the blue. Usually, you only come to me when you’re worried about something.” He sat down across from her. “What’s going on?”

“You offer me your advice even though we apparently hold opposite political standings?” Atienna inquired.

Jericho studied her. “Of course.”

Ah. No rambles about the gates?

“Although if you’d like to be the lent ear instead of the one who needs a lent ear”—Jericho spread his hands— “I’d be happy to discuss the gates with you.”

There it was.

Atienna clasped her hands and studied him in turn. “To be relied on…”

“What’s that?”

“I do wonder why you wanted that,” Atienna murmured.  “Was it because you thought everyone else was being relied on besides you? Did you notice or thought you’d noticed everyone treating you like you were glass? You are by no means weak in will nor physical strength so you must have thought you were lacking in some other way.” She smiled slightly in thought. “They say the greatest misery isn’t war or poverty but the feeling of being abandoned or not needed by absolutely anyone.”

Jericho frowned. “Atienna, what are you talking about?”

“I wonder if you would actually be able to handle the weight of being relied on when you’re already carrying the weight of your obsession.”

“Obsession…?” Jericho paused. “You’re talking about your VNW.”

“You killed Omega—”

Something flickered in Jericho’s eyes. 

“—befriended Theta, and then—in a sense—temporarily freed Alpha.” Atienna crossed her arms. “The beginning named the end, the end named the beginning. All the beats should have been hit and your grievances resolved and put to rest, but that wasn’t the case. I wonder if it was because the others had guided you down every path except your killing of Omega so you felt deep down as if you had not resolved those things on your own. Or maybe it’s because you aren’t after the individual but the ideology itself, and ideologies are impossible to kill because you would have to eradicate and annihilate all people and records that hold them or have knowledge of them.” 

“Ideologies are difficult to ‘kill’,” Jericho agreed, “but instead of talking about eradication and annihilation, is it not better to counter them with better ideas?”

Atienna chuckled. His response was rather ironic and amusing. “Even now, you have an obsession you cannot let go.”

Jericho arched a brow. “Do I?”

“Perhaps it’s just been redirected into a more socially acceptable form,” Atienna murmured. “Whatever the case, that burning sense of justice remains.” She placed a hand to her chin. “I wonder why… Maybe it was just impossible to extinguish. Actually, now that I think about it some more—what do you actually want? Justice is so nebulous, after all.”

Jericho clasped his hands together. “I beg your pardon, Atienna, but did you want to talk with me or at me—”

Atienna rose. “Do you have any plans with your family this weekend?” 

Jericho rose with her. “No, I have plans with ELPIS. We’re having another demonstration at the beach. If you’re interested—”

“Even after what happened at the mall?” Atienna inquired.

Jericho said something in response but she didn’t catch it as she was pondering on whether justice or family was more important to Jericho—the one she knew and held dear. If only she could rip out her Jericho from this one just like Libra had ripped out Olive. She certainly did have the tool to do it. At least, she assumed she did. However, assumptions were dangerous things.  She had thought this when she had come across an affected Klaus that other night.

If it were anyone else standing in front of her—anyone who had been affected by Ndoto, anyone who she did not care about—she wouldn’t hesitate like this. If only that were the case. After all, it was better to run tests before doing a true run, wasn’t it?

She had already determined who she would take care in delicately handling—whether real or fake—for the time being. Everyone else—even if the other five were fond of them—well… Whether it was right or wrong, it was her choice. 

As she pondered, she paced to the door and turned only when she was at the threshold. Jericho stood behind her, clearly frowning.

“Atienna! Are you alright?” 

The question did not come from Jericho but from someone who stood behind her. She already knew who it was before she had even turned. It was Bachiru.

“Will you be at the beach on Sunday as well, Bachiru?” Atienna asked as she turned. “Jericho was just telling me about it.”

Bachiru was dressed in a button up with a knitted vest over it. The stitchwork looked familiar, but it was too delicate to be her own.

“I—yes, I do plan on covertly going to it…” Bachiru looked her up and down. “Atienna, I have been trying to reach you since the council meeting.  You didn’t pick up the phone and you were never at your apartment. What is going on?”

Atienna placed a hand on his arm. “Oh, Bachiru, you’ve always been such a troublemaker.”

Bachiru eyed Jericho as he cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck in a familiar show of embarrassment. “Atienna… I’m trying to help us—”

“Have you ever stopped to think about how your actions have affected your family?” she asked lightly. “Oh, I know you have. We’ve had a similar discussion before, haven’t we?”

Bachiru flinched and took a step back as he raised his hands.

“You know how much I hate when people speak with vindication when they have no idea what they’re talking about. That is, unless you’ve already forgotten about our conversation from that which may very well be the case. Repetition has always been the best for you. Or maybe your want to belong or to be needed is much stronger.”

Like Jericho.

“I—” Bachiru stiffened, opened his mouth, closed it, paused, peered deeply into her eyes. “Atienna, what is going on?”

His gaze reached.

Ah, right. How careless of her. This was the Bachiru she cared for, was it not? She had to be more tactful. 

Atienna squeezed his arm. “Bachiru, take Kamaria, Kichea, and father to visit Sefu this weekend, okay? He’s in a hospital in the Koala Nut—”

Bachiru shook his head and held up his hands. “Wait? What? One, you know how I feel about Sefu. Two, what are you talking about?”

“Did you hear me, Bachiru?” Atienna pressed. “Take them for me.”

“But why?”

“Say that you’ll do it.”

“Not until you tell me why,” Bachiru pressed. 

“You have not spent much time with them since arriving here, right? And Sefu does miss you all.”

Bachiru bristled. “Sefu is—what about… mother?”

Oh…? Bachiru had openly admitted the discomfort and unease he felt being in the presence of their mother or the person who looked like their mother. Was this what they called the inconsistency of human nature?

“Say that you’ll do it,” she repeated.

Bachiru sighed. “I will spend the weekend with Kamaria, Kichea, and father… and visit Sefu.” He pressed, “Now what is going—”

Atienna placed a hand on Bachiru’s cheek. The warmth there felt real enough. She gave it a quick tap to confirm, and she instantly recalled giving him the same gesture whenever he’d come crying to her when they were children.

 “They were saying bad things about mother again!” he would blubber. “So I punched them and then… I got lashings…”

“You should never lash out with violence,” she would chastise him as she patted his cheek and ran her hand over his head. “It is better to use words, don’t you think?”

And those words had resulted in this version of Bahciru, hadn’t they? Well, that was rather self-important of her. There certainly were other things that contributed to the current Bachiru.

Ah, but it still would have been better if she had just crushed those children with their big mouths back then.

Yes, this certainly was Bachiru. That was why she had to tuck him away.

“Atienna…”

Atienna turned to Jericho who stood behind her silently evaluating. “You should spend time with your family this weekend too, Jericho. You never know what might happen.

***

“Dear Atienna! I was just thinking of you!”

Standing in the well of the large spiral staircase that connected all the Guidance Council Hall’s floors together, Atienna looked away from the small trail of ants marching across the linoleum floor and up towards the woman who was leaning against the railings of the stairs just above her. 

She had arrived here only half an hour ago and had bypassed the front desk to ascend the stairs. A guidance officer had halted her ascent and demanded her identification card and KM-level. She would have tossed him over shoulder if Conta had not intervened. The woman had been descending the stairs while precariously balancing a tower of books in her arms and had almost dropped them all upon running up to them.  

“This is Policymaker Imamu,” Conta had explained to the officer.

And, as if that four-worded sentence was the answer to all of his questions, the guidance officer had brisky left. Curious certainly but not curious enough to pursue.

Conta had then nervously rattled on about how busy things were recently were everything and had then started praising Atienna for her capture of the Raincoat Killer. Truthfully, Atienna simply had no more use for and no more space for Nuru. That was why she had handed him over to Shion.

Conta was half-way through details on Nuru’s investigation, when Atienna interrupted her to inquire where Maria was. A second later and Conta was rushing up the stairs all while still haphazardly balancing her stack of books.

And so, Atienna had waited.

Now, Maria descended the stairs. The white light from the tree that seeped in from the windows around the spiraling staircase lit her hair gold. Her smile remained as she approached, arms spread. Atienna allowed the embrace and returned it after some thought.

Maria gestured upwards. “Shall we go into my office?”

“No, here is fine,” Atienna replied. “I don’t plan on staying for very long.”

“Oh?” Maria’s brows rose. “Always so busy, yes? What can I help you with?”

Atienna looked Maria up and down, taking in her crisp uniform, her tie, and then at her metal arm. 

“You don’t have your arm even though Gilbert does,” she murmured as she reached out and touched the silver hand. It was cold to the touch. “So… I thought you were not so different—that it would be impossible for you to be any different.”

Maria cocked her head. “What do you mean, dear Atienna? Of course, I am not so different from myself! There is no one else who can be me, after all!” She laughed.

“That’s exactly why I began to realize…” Atienna looked Maria up and down again. “… how much you would hate being like this—dressed in a suit and tie, housed in an office, a captain of a ship without a wheel.” She stared over Maria’s shoulder towards the ants. “Mundane and without adventure…” She smiled. “Although that certainly is not a bad thing to some.”

Safer…

Maria’s brows rose. “Every single day is an adventure here, no? New people and places and faces and cases, yes?” She spread her arms. “And as you said, just because it is not exciting to you does not mean that it is not exciting for anyone else.”

Oh? Maria—of all people—was throwing her lecture right back at her, was she? That was rather annoying, wasn’t it?

“Besides, what is more exciting than making sure everyone accomplishes their life goal and achieves happiness, dear Atienna?”

The rhetoric was so sunny and optimistic—baseless—that it was almost revolting. 

“And are all guidance officers taught to guide people to happiness the same way?” 

“We do have guidance books, yes.” Maria nodded. “But our best guidance officers are the ones who are able to offer guidance with feeling instead of words, yes?”

That was empty and vapid, wasn’t it? Feeling instead of words? Feelings were never invalid but did they ever solve anything? Words fueled by feeling were even worse offenders. People like her mother, like Usian, like Theta, like Scorpio, like Alpha, even like Olive wielded words with feeling, with self-righteousness, with passion. And those who were moved by such words ended up…? 

“I wonder how happiness is defined in your guidance books,” Atienna pondered. “Is it akin to apatheia—being free from emotional attachment and with an indifference to everything happening outside of yourself?” Like Alpha? “Is it akin to ataraxia—being free from anxiety and disturbance and only feeling tranquility and serenity? I wonder…”

“Happiness varies from person to person, yes?” Maria pointed to herself and then placed her hand on Atienna’s chest. “I am different from you, no?”

“True, but it does seem like all definitions of happiness center around being free from something or someone, don’t you think?” Atienna hummed as she clasped her hands over Maria’s. “Freedom from hunger and wants and loneliness and pollution and divides.”

Maria’s eyes narrowed just slightly.

Atienna hummed. “There was a writing from Virgo that once said ‘only when the people around us are happy can we be happy ourselves.’ Most interpret that as to mean that we can find true happiness in altruism, but I’ve always believed it was more so referring to how seeing the unhappiness in the people around you will remind you of your own unhappinesses—past, present, and future. If that is the case then…”

Maria took a step forward.

Atienna did not take a step back.

“Are the people around you causing you unhappiness, dear Atienna?”

“Only some.” Atienna returned the question, “Does returning people to the tree after they’ve achieved their happiness and life goal bring you just as much happiness and excitement as helping people achieve their happiness and goals?”

Maria remained smiling. “There is nothing as exciting as the end of an adventure, no?”

Atienna chuckled. “I actually find endings very disappointing. That’s why I tend to read the ending of a book before I start it so I can prepare myself for it.”

Maria’s eyes softened. “All things must end, dear Atienna.”

“The opposite of the lesson you learned after defeating Alpha…” Atienna pried Maria’s hand away from her chest. “Even so, I think life would be easier if you were more like the you here rather than the you there.”

Maria studied her. “Is that so?”

“That’s a tall ask, I know,” Atienna murmured in thought, “because the way you are is the way they made you and the way they made you is what you made your own. Regardless of the irony and even after self-reflection, that’s what you decided of all things…” She added half-bitterly, half-wistfully, “And who am I to change that? And if I can’t even change it, how dare someone else try?”

Maria studied her. “That is a serious tone you have, no, dear Atienna.”

“Maybe so.” Atienna  hummed. “Anyway, you should spend time with Morandi and Conta while you can, Maria.”

***

“Atienna!”

Before Atienna had even stepped over the threshold of the entrance to the Wibele, the man had called out her name. She was not surprised to see Werner hopping the counter to make his way over to her. She’d barely had the time to survey the empty bakery before she was pulled into a tight embrace. After some thought, just as before, she returned the gesture.

“You stopped by!” Werner went on and on. “I’m real glad you came to visit. Do you want some chocolate mousse cake? We just made it fresh this morning! It sold out super fast, but I always keep a slice of your guy’s favorites just in case you swing by!”

Atienna pulled away from him, took a step back, evaluated him carefully.

Werner cocked his head.

“You spend so much time concerning yourself with what others think and how they feel,” Atienna drew, “even if you end up making decisions that hurt them. All for duty and the majority, was it? If you were going to take on that burden then why even bother with all of that?”

Werner’s brows creased. “Hurt people? Huh? I don’t want to hurt anyone…” 

“I suppose that’s why we never really understood each other…” Atienna held her arms and cast a glance to the side. “We both hide that aspect of ourselves for the sake of the people around us. Or perhaps we do it for our own sakes. To blend in more. To make things easier—even though, in retrospect, all it does is make things that much more difficult. Neither of us were suited for our current roles, but we kept at it…” 

“… huh?” 

“I decided to stop,” Atienna continued as she let out a breath, as she smiled at the thought, as she released her arms from her hands, “and I have never felt lighter. I just wonder… if it’s possible for you to do the same. Ironically, in your case, it almost feels as if you were to be true to yourself, you’d be going against your true self at the same time.”

Werner stared at her, clearly perplexed, for a beat before he brightened and snapped his fingers. “Oh! Is this guidance officer stuff? I wanted to tell you! Volky has been helping me study for the KM test and I’m gonna take it later today! I feel really good about it!”

Oh…?

“I despise the idea of you being used as a tool,” Atienna murmured, “but even here it seems to give you a sense of purpose… I don’t think you’ll ever be truly happy, Werner. Not you, not me, not Cadence, not Jericho—”

Werner abruptly grabbed hold of her wrist. Although his eyes were concealed by his sunglasses as they usually were, the worry there was clear. “Are you not happy, Atienna? What’s going on? You can talk to me. I might not get it but I’ll try to!”

Atienna watched as a familiar blue scorpion tattoo peeked out from beneath the collar of his shirt.

“Atienna…” Werner mumbled. “You feel so far away…”

She was the one who felt far away? 

Hah.

The door behind the bakery counter swung open. Ludwig and Viktoria stood there.

Viktoria studied her carefully before clearing her throat. “Werner, an order was just placed for next this weekend. Three dozen cupcakes. Do you want to get started on them now…?”

Werner’s gaze flicked between the two of them before he released Atienna’s wrist. “I’m gonna get started on that order,” he said before he headed back into the kitchen with Viktoria, “but if you wanna hang out and talk later, Atienna, I’m totally down for it!”

Now only Ludwig remained. He approached her.

“Miss Atienna Imamu, correct?”

“That would be me, Ludwig.”

The man paused for a moment. “The generals and peacekeepers have been looking for you,” he eventually informed her. “Hauptmann Weingartner and the Sagittarian princess will be back shortly—”

Atienna interjected, “You want to stay, don’t you, Ludwig?”

A cold pause.

“What?”

“I don’t know you too well because Werner doesn’t know you well—”

Ludwig’s brows met with confusion.

“—but when I see you through my own eyes, I can reason your logic behind it,” she drew. “For one, you have no chronic injuries here. I have read a few books about it—how debilitating the pain from those can be in day-to-day life.”

Ludwig’s lips thinned.

“Then there’s the fact that your country, its wars, and its politics don’t exist here. Everything you’ve spent your life since discharge fighting against, that is. Your wife is here with you too—safe.” Atienna felt a smile tug at her lips. “And most important of all, your family looks up to you, relies on you, and admires you here.” Briefly she thought of Jericho. “Is it such a grand thing to that many? Being relied on? So grand that you would abandon your convictions just like that? I wonder if that means your convictions just weren’t that strong or if that they’ve simply been translated into something else…”

“I don’t know you, Miss Imamu,” Ludwig replied evenly, “and you don’t know me, so I would appreciate you not making those kinds of assumptions.”

Atienna chuckled, hiding it with her hand. “Oh, don’t worry, Ludwig. I don’t really care about your perception of things, so I won’t tell anyone. I am curious though—or perhaps I find it admirable—how you treat him like you’re absolutely certain he’s the real thing.”

Ludwig remained silent for a moment, studying her. He did not address her accusations—perhaps he was hiding or perhaps he was just too mature for it—and instead informed her of what Olive had discovered about the people and things of Ndoto using his self-built vitae spectrophotometer.

Of course Olive would do something amazing like that. Creation in one hand and destruction in the other. 

“Is that so?” Atienna hummed. That didn’t really changing anything for her, did it? No. Not at all. Briefly, she thought of her mother. “I do wonder though… if you have four  ounces of milk in a sixteen ounce cup that becomes filled to the brim with water, can it still be considered milk?”

The door behind her chimed.

“Atienna…?!”

Atienna turned.

It was Safiyah. In arms were brown grocery bags which seemed to contain flour and eggs. 

 “Where in the world have you been…?” Safiyah dropped the bags on the closest table and darted to Atienna’s side. She gripped her shoulders tight. “Are you alright? I thought you had gone off and done something insane after what you said in the council—” She registered Ludwig and quieted. 

Everyone kept voicing their concerns for her. How troublesome that was given the fact that what appeared to be worrying them was her just being herself. 

“Everything is fine,” Atienna reassured her. She pulled Safiyah’s hand from her shoulder and held it tight. “I do have a favor, however.”

Safiyah frowned. “Nothing has come good out of you saying those words lately.”

Atienna continued regardless, “Visit Sefu in the hospital for me this weekend. Bachiru will be there too. He’s at—”

“Sefu’s at the hospital?!” Safiyah did a double-take. “Is he alright? What happened? What in the world have you been up to?” She pulled her hand out of Atienna’s and held Atienna’s own. “Please, Atienna. Speak with me. Let’s not do all of that again. Please.”

Oh, Safiyah. Always ready with the questions. Perhaps that was why they had become such good friends. Their need to question anything and everything complimented each other. They were both rather stubborn too—although Safiyah was much more forward. 

Ah.

Perhaps that was actually why they most likely would have never been friends if it had not been for their positions in the chieftain families. So, so similar, but not exactly the same. No, there was no ‘perhaps’ there. Only a definitely. 

Hadn’t Safiyah offered to help her investigate this place when she’d first arrived here? Nothing had really come of it, had it? Of course not. Safiyah was like sea foam—appearing due to agitation in otherwise still waters, but doing nothing but lapping the shoreline before being dragged back out to sea. Atienna supposed in that regard they were the same as well.

“Sefu is fine, Safiyah. Nothing out of the ordinary happened,” Atienna replied earnestly. She leaned forward, whispering into her ear, “I’m doing what’s best for you, so try not to complain again… alright?” When she pulled away, she offered her stiff friend a kind smile.

***

Atienna had arrived at the Foxman estate at around six in the afternoon. Feliciano had greeted her at the door and, after some stuttering and muttering about not expecting any guests, had informed her that the Foxmans were out for the evening on different business meetings and outings. 

“I can wait,” she’d said.

And wait she did on the third floor balcony as she sipped tea and nibbled crumpets that Feliciano and Donato had provided. A deep earthy flavor from the leaves with just a hint of sweetness. 

Hm. 

The air was warm and remained warm as the sky darkened. It was around ten that the balcony screen door creaked open and a dark head popped in. Not Cadence but Charite Haussman.

“Expecting someone else?” Atienna asked, taking note of how Charite’s bright eyes had dimmed upon recognizing her. 

“I was looking for Francis, actually, Miss Imamu,” Charite replied earnestly. “It seems he’s stuck at work again.” She cast her gaze aside. 

Hm. 

“It’s good to see you well, but I wouldn’t want to keep you—”

Atienna set down her cup of tea.  “I saw you in that garden, didn’t I?” 

Charite visibly tensed. 

How readable and ungallant—so unlike how Theta had described.  

Charite eyed the cup of tea and asked, “I’m sorry—what do you mean?” 

Atienna hummed. “Is that why Altair called you a selfish woman?”

Charite now paled. “A-Altair? And who’s that…?”

“If you really don’t know who that is, then I assume that means that you’re completely separate from her,” Atienna drew in thought. “If that’s the case, I am curious about how exactly someone like you became engaged to someone like him.”

Charite’s jaw tightened.

“You come from two different worlds, don’t you think?”

Charite opened her mouth but said nothing.

“As they say, love conquers all,” Atienna finished. “Or rather, love gives us grounding and purpose—whether good or bad.” She offered a smile. “I’m sorry if I’ve troubled or kept you with my rambling.”

Charite managed a smile as well. “Oh, not at all.” Her fists were clenched but she hesitated. “I-I’ll be… going now.”

Atienna watched as she left before returning her attention to the balcony view that oversaw the blinding white tree. 

It was three hours later that Cadence entered. She came in wearing a dress woven with gems, her face glittering with makeup, and her long hair done up into double maiden buns. She collapsed onto Atienna, throwing her arms around Atienna’s neck. 

Atienna did not have the time to ponder returning the gesture before Cadence pulled away.

“I came as soon as Feliciano told me you were here,” Cadence sighed. She placed a hand to her cheek and sat across from Atienna. “I hope you haven’t been waiting long.”

Atienna studied her thoughtfully.

Cadence offered her a sympathetic look. “Oh dear, Atienna. You’ve certainly had a week, haven’t you? I can’t imagine! And yet you’ve come to visit little old me.” 

“‘Little old you’,” Atienna murmured. She picked up her tea and sipped it again. “I just had a thought…”

“Oh?”

“The versions of the other four here are a far cry from the ones that I hold dear,” Atienna drew, “but I can still see glimpses of familiarity. Jericho’s passion, Maria’s confidence, Werner’s kindness, Olive’s charisma. You, however, are nothing like the Cadence I know. A love for music is all you share, but that isn’t too defining, don’t you think?”

Cadence reached across the table and held her hand. “Are you talking about your VNW, Atienna?”

“Like Maria, though, I think life would be easier for you if you were like this instead of how you actually are,” she murmured. “I wonder… if the reason why you are so far from yourself—why everyone is so far from themselves—is because the person responsible for everything realized that you couldn’t be happy if you were even remotely close to who you actually are.”

The deep-rooted insecurities and selfish habits ingrained since childhood. The lies, the pettiness, the self-preservation. Changed, yes, slowly through their connection but not naturally so.

“Although, if that’s the case, I wonder what that means for me…”

Cadence squeezed her hand. “Atienna… where is this coming from?”

Atienna offered her a small smile. “Even if you all aren’t able to achieve any sense of fulfillment or happiness with the way you are, I still cherish you.”

Cadence paused. “I cherish you too, Atienna. I really do. So that’s why, if something is happening right now then—”

“Then what? I know you of all people would understand and accept what I’m about to do.”

“Of course, I trust you, Atienna…” Cadence put a hand to her cheek. “But what exactly are you planning to do?”

“I didn’t mention trust, did I? Only understanding.” Atienna pulled her hand out of Cadence’s and placed it back in her lap. “Ah, have you spent time with your brothers or the children you’ve sponsored lately?”

“No, we’ve… all been too busy.”

Too busy. Wasn’t that something Alma used to say to Cadence? Situation and circumstance, hm?

“Ah, not to sound a hopeless romantic but, if you are truly acting on love—whether for friend or family or partner—situation, circumstance, nor business should matter, should it?” She took one last sip of her tea. “You should spend time with them, Cadence.”

***

Atienna! Atienna!

Atienna had been walking around the brick wall of the school building in search of the school’s iron gates when she heard the call. Upon turning, she felt her heart thrum for the first time in a long while because there up the walkway bounded Olive. He waved wildly all the way up until he was half-a-meter away from her and that was when he doubled over heaving. 

Atienna brought a bottle of water out from her bag and handed it to him. 

“I’ve been looking for you,” Atienna noted as he downed half the bottle. She mused, “but it looks like you’ve been looking for me too.”

Olive nodded, handing her the bottle back. “I haven’t seen you since the hospital. And Ludwig said you stopped by Werner’s shop the other day. I was…” He hesitated. 

Worried about her, was he? Like everyone else here—

“—I missed you.”

Atienna was immediately drawn out from her musings. Olive held her gaze.

“It’s…” He shook his head. “Weird. Feeling everyone there but they’re so far away. It’s different from the chlorowheat and an override. It’s like they’re there but not. It already feels overwhelming and it’s only been a few days for me. I can’t imagine going for as long as you did.”

Atienna remained quiet for a moment before she offered a wan smile. “You’re very kind, Olive, but you know how I am. I’m not as bothered about these things as I’d like to be…” As you’d like me to be.

Olive wavered—only for a moment. “I… don’t believe that. I mean, I might be wrong, but… you and Werner are really good at compartmentalizing how you feel. You’re really good at separating yourself from it… but that doesn’t mean that you don’t feel it or aren’t bothered by it.”

Ah, he didn’t understand her—

“—at least, when it comes to us or your family.” Olive frowned slightly. “I get needing your space—and if you need it, just tell me—but if it’s something else, then we can work it out. Together.” 

The cicadas sang in the silence that stretched on.

“Like I said, Olive, you’re very kind,” Atienna drew finally, “and I understand what you’re trying to imply, but I don’t consider the people here to be the people I hold dear.”

“But—”

“I know what you’ve been researching from what Ludwig’s told me, but it’s not enough evidence for me to draw the same sort of conclusion that you have. My heart isn’t like yours, Olive. I’m sure your heart was removed here for that very reason.”

“I… I know that.” Olive looked away briefly as if he was about to fold but then held her gaze again. “That’s why I want to understand where you’re coming from.”

Understand? But there was nothing to understand. And if he understood—with his heart—he could never accept it.

Olive continued to hold her gaze.

How to make him not follow… An ironic thought given that pushing people away was Olive’s forte. 

“You’ve always wondered if the six of us would ever come together if we never became connected, isn’t that right?” Atienna murmured. “We both know the answer to that. Our paths would never cross to begin with; and if they did, I’m certain we would either end up despising or even killing each other given the politics of our native countries.”

Olive swallowed. “Atienna….”

“The only way for us to become close like this is and was for us to encounter each other just like this—through our connection—don’t you think?”

Just like how the only reason she’d become friends with Safiyah was because they had both been chieftain family members. Just like how the only reason Sefu had become enamored with her was because she’d been living in the family he’d bound himself to serve under. Just like how Klaus only came to find a kindred spirit in her because she’d overridden Werner during the Week of Blindness. 

If any of these encounters had been off by just one degree, none of these connections would have formed. 

“And what’s…wrong with that?”

Atienna was rather surprised to find steel in Olive’s eyes.

“Every connection we have in life is formed through meeting people at the right time and under the right circumstances, right?” Olive muttered. “One degree off and sometimes the probability of the connection forming drops to near zero. In most cases, the how is the variable that matters the most, but in this case… isn’t the most important variable the fact that it has value to begin with?”

Ah, he’d grown again—without her even witnessing it.

Atienna smiled faintly. “I suppose you’re right. And that’s why these connections have so much more value to me than everything else.”

“That’s—”

“That’s not right?” Atienna inquired. She let out a breath. 

“No—I mean.” Olive shook his head. “That’s not going to work in the long run. I mean… that’s what we basically did when we were working for the saint candidates, right…?” He clenched just fists. “We can’t stay in a bubble that’s just us. One way or another, something from the outside will poke in and it’ll pop. I thought we… agreed that—”

“That we won’t work with the saint candidates any longer? We certainly agreed on that.”

Olive shook his head. “No, not just that. More than that—”

Ah. 

A battle of morals and preservation and right and wrong. 

“If only the world worked in the simple way you wished for it to—”

“Ati…”

Atienna’s heart leapt and she turned. Behind her stood Kamaria and Kichea, hand in hand. 

“Atienna…” Olive murmured. “I think they—”

I know they know more than I know. 

Kamaria’s gaze flicked to Olive and then to Atienna and then back to Olive. Her lips pulled down—just slightly. “You haven’t been home, Atienna,” she said. “Mom has been asking for you.”

The fluttering in Atienna’s heart died down. 

How unpleasant.

Her gaze fell to their intertwined hands.

They’d been supporting each other all this while, Atienna realized. And here she thought she was the one holding them by the hand.

“Has she now?” Atienna murmured. “Anyway, Bachiru should have told you this already, but he’s going to take you to visit Sefu this weekend. You’ll be good and go with him, won’t you?”

The two girls nodded. No bite, no spoiltness, nothing. 

What exactly had she been expecting?

“Atienna—”

Atienna turned back to Olive. “You said it yourself, didn’t you, Olive? To let you know when I needed space.” She smiled. “Well, I do need space right now.”

***

“You look rather confident.” 

Atienna had been sitting at the bus stop nestled between Sufuri Street and Mbili Boulevard when twin shadows fell across her lap. It was evening now, so it was the street lamps that illuminated the figures that stood before her. Familiar figures they were—one draped in a green raincoat and the other holding a conducting spear.

Atienna tensed but did not move her hand from where it rested lightly on her bag. “Hello, Nia.”

Nia’s lips thinned before she cast a glance to her companion. 

“Are you here about your proto-conductor?” Atienna inquired. “If so, it’s not something I plan to return. I will fight even you for it, Nia.”

Nia’s brows met.

“I am much more capable than you would think,” Atienna had planned to say to dissuade Nia further. However, upon thinking further on it, she decided it was better to catch Nia off guard.

“That’s a rather stubborn thing to say, don’t you think?” the raincoated figure let out a breath before reaching for their hood and pulling it down. “I wonder how you can be so confident knowing only half of what there is to know.”

Heart pounding, Atienna looked up. 

Dark frizzy hair that fell just above her shoulders. Eyes like obsidian, a delicate brow, sharp dark cheekbones.

Atienna’s heart stilled as she found herself staring up at a reflection of her face.

Her reflection hid a chuckle behind her hand. “You don’t look very surprised, although I suppose I wouldn’t be surprised myself so I suppose this confirms things further for the both of us.”

“This is the sort of plot twist you would see in any sort of fiction novel that involves doppelgangers, isn’t it?” Atienna returned. “Well, rather than a plot twist, it would be more like a trope given how often it’s used.”

“It would be more meaningful if I was someone else, wouldn’t it?”

Atienna nodded but then paused. “Although, it would be disappointing if you were that doppelganger that has been troubling the others.”

“Doppelganger?” her reflection inquired curiously. “Am I correct in assuming that this doppelganger is a singular one that happens to be taking the appearance of random others?”

Nia visibly tensed and looked between them.

“That’s what they believe,” Atienna noted lightly. “A saint candidate probably. One by the name of Gemini. Given your reaction, I suppose you haven’t encountered them as of yet?”

“It seems not,” her reflection noted.

“Am I correct in deducing that you’ve been here longer than I have?”

“It depends where you mean by ‘here’.”

“In another garden.”

Her reflection smiled. “And what makes you say that? How do you know I’m not just the doppelganger in your guise?”

“Firstly, your hair is longer than mine but shorter than how it was when we were in Signum,” Atienna rationalized. “Secondly, I’m asking the most questions out of the two of us evidencing our clear gap in knowledge and gaps in knowledge are usually proportional to experience. Thirdly, you had a proto-conductor with you capable of destroying roots.” She lowered her hand that she had been counting on. “As for your last question—I’m quite confident that I know myself better than anyone else.”

“If you know that much,” her reflection drew, “then what do you plan on doing with that proto-conductor?”

“Where did you get this proto-conductor from?” Atienna inquired. 

“Answering questions with questions can be quite vexing from the other side,” her reflection noted with a slight smile.  After a pause, she answered, “The proto-conductor I received from the only person who would entrust us with it and the vitae from the only person capable of providing vitae just like this.”

“Is that so…?” Atienna’s gaze shifted to Nia. “I wonder… Nia, you accompanied her because you believed you were closer to ‘the real Atienna’ than I was, right?”

Nia’s grip on her spear tightened. She looked to her reflection.

“‘Closer to the real Atienna’,” her reflection repeated in thought. “That would imply that neither of us are the ‘real Atienna’.”

“Well, there can only be one of the ‘real thing’ when it comes an individual, don’t you think?” Atienna returned. 

Her reflection hummed. “So that would make either of us a fake then? Or perhaps just a part of ‘the real thing.’” She glanced to the side, her lips pulling up just slightly. “I wonder… if that would explain why we seem so strange to everyone around us now.”

Ah.

That was funny.

“That would make for a wonderful reason, wouldn’t it?” Atienna pondered. “The perfect explanation.”

“Or perhaps the perfect excuse.”

Very funny.

A bus rounded the corner of the street and began pulling up to the stop. The one she had been waiting for. The last bus of the evening.

Atienna stood, stepping beside her reflection and facing the road as the bus approached. “If I am correct in my assumption that you are from a different garden, then you being here means that you’ve taken care of it already.” She reached into her bag and wrapped her fingers around the handle of the proto-conductor. “And if that’s the case, then it’s quite rude to try to fix someone else’s yard, don’t you think?”

Her reflection remained silent.

Atienna wondered if this short conversation had answered all of the questions she had.

When the bus pulled in front of her, she entered it without looking back.

***

Atienna entered the Small Services District’s recovery facility through the front doors. It was a weekend evening so the staff on site was minimal which was why she had purposefully chosen this day to come here. 

“Can I help you, ma’am?” the lone man at the front desk inquired as she entered. He yawned. “Quite the hour to be here.”

Atienna pulled out her identification card and slid it across the table. “I would like to visit someone.”

The man scanned her card and startled. “Policymaker Imamu!” He reached out and shook her hand aggressively. “I-It’s a pleasure to actually meet you in person! I heard about you catching the Raincoat Killer! That’s—”

“Will you let me in?”

The man quieted, flushed, cleared his throat and began flipping through a clipboard. “I—let me check. Visitations today, visitations today…” He paused, frowned, looked up. “I completely forgot, Miss Imamu, but there are no visitations allowed on Sundays.” 

Atienna scanned the foiler. No one.

He set down the clipboard and pushed her card back to her. “I assume you’ve forgotten on account of our VNW, but if you schedule a visitation for any other—”

Atienn reached over the desk, entangled her fingers in his dark locks, and brought his head down on the desk once, twice, thrice. When he slumped in her hold, she stopped and reached into his shirt pocket. There she found a familiar plastic card.

Hm.

Atienna dropped the man, rounded the desk, and approached the metal door just behind him. She slid the card into the slot beside the door and listened to a familiar click resound. The door opened with ease, and when she stepped over the threshold of it, she found herself in a dimly lit hallway.

Atienna proceeded quietly, not in search of anything in particular. The hall’s walls were made of see-through glass and so beyond them she could spy small little decorated office spaces.

Empty. 

Perhaps a bit deeper, she thought.

And deeper she proceeded until the glass windows became replaced by white walls and the white flooring became replaced with checkerboarded flooring. Eventually, she found herself in front of twin steel doors that opened up to a cafeteria.

Just like how Derik described.

This would do, wouldn’t it?

Yes.

Atienna closed her eyes, picturing the route she’d taken here and the number of steps it had taken. If things didn’t go particularly well, then she would be able to exit the building in under 30 seconds. Not a terrible time.

Alright.

Atienna reached into her bag, wrapped her fingers around the cold hilt of the proto-conductor, and pulled it out from her bag. She studied the weapon for a moment before she flicked it on. The illuminance of its ever-changing blade warmed her face.

Quietly, she flipped the weapon around, pointing its tip to the ground.

“Atienna!”

Atienna glanced over her shoulder. 

It was Shion, dashing down towards her from the opposite direction she’d come from. 

“Atienna, wait!”

Down the blade went, sinking into the floor and spreading iridescent cracks across the ground. The cracks grew in size, blossoming like the petals of a flower until they consumed everything.

---