Meliora - Extricate - 26

[lady_mab]

Lysander Stavros

I pick up Ayn from her apartment, which is close to the university and on the opposite side of the city from where I live. "So, tell me again: how long have you been living here?"

Ayn tilts her head and thinks. "About two years?" She looks at me when I don't immediately respond. "And you?"

"Two and a half."

She holds my gaze, studying me, before returning her attention to the path before us. "So we've been in the same area for almost two years and never ran into each other..."

I keep watching, studying the red of her hair that she attempts to hide beneath a knit, slouchy cap. I would know that color anywhere. It's the main reason that I recognized her while we were touring the university campus. "Apparently the city is smaller than we thought it was."

A huff of laughter causes her shoulders to shake but she doesn't grant me another look. "So where are we going to eat?"

"Well, I haven't quite figured that out yet. I don't really know what's over here."

"Neither do I. I don't eat out a lot. Mostly a lot of pre-made stuff from the supermarket." She grins sheepishly. "Cooking is still not my forte."

I press a hand to my chest in mock surprise. "And here I was thinking that you might have studied the culinary arts in the last six years." I glance down at my phone, trying to search for decent recommendations within easy walking distance. "One of my... students is training to be a chef."

If she notices the hesitation I have over the word 'students', she doesn't mention it. I am not really certain how to refer to Jun, especially outside of a context for Meliora. "Ooh, I'm jealous. Do they bring in a lot of samples?"

"At first she did just for her friends, but if they're eating in class, I take some samples as a tithe." Which is partially true. While Zoné hasn't been in for detention since the school year started, I would still request bites before I had even met Jun. "Now that I know her better, she will occasionally bring me my own."

Ayn makes an amused sound in the back of her throat but doesn't follow up with an explanation.

In the end, to my mild amusement, we end up going to a Greek fusion restaurant. There's nothing very Greek, and everything very fusion about the food, but it's very hard to find anything that is exclusively authentic these days. Not unless you go to the source.

Even Kaito's bar is a fusion theme, combining traditional Japanese culture from his upbringing with the modern flairs found in Eminence these days.

The food is good, and Ayn and I spend most of the time recounting the last six years. I think I learn more about her over dinner than I had known during my year living with her.

She picks the olives out of her salad and steals my tomatoes. She studies literature at the university, and is a ballerina in the New London Ballet Troupe. She finds it very easy to talk about anything and everything, which is a gift imparted upon her by her mother's "Little Lady Lessons".

When she mentions those, I have to interrupt. "Jocelyn still made you do those things?"

Ayn rolls her eyes. "Holy shit, Lysander, she made me do them until I left the house. I know she had her own plans for you when you lived with us, trying to clean you up and turn you into a functioning member of society and all that, but I was being groomed to be a miniature version of her. She was probably secretly arranging a marriage between one of my father's coworker's sons or something."

I study her as she says this, watching her hand gestures and how expressive her entire face is. I noticed this back on her birthday as well, which at the time I had attributed to her being drunk. But she's only had half a glass of wine during the course of our dinner, so it becomes just another thing I have to reconcile against my memory of her.

She looks a lot like her mother, Jocelyn. The same facial features, the same hair, the same regal bearing. When she was younger, she acted a lot like Jocelyn -- hands folded demurely in her lap and lips pursed in constant displeasure.

Ayn catches me staring, and props her chin up on one hand. "Am I talking too much?"

"On the contrary," I start, and she snorts in amusement. "I rather like listening to you talk. You were never very chatty before."

"You were the chatty one. You always had a story to tell."

Now, it's not that I have fewer stories. It's more that I've figured out when is the best time to tell them, and right now, I want to focus on her.

We finish eating, but it's still too early to part just yet. We hadn't quite figured out what to do after dinner, and I still don't really know how to bring it up.

Ayn contemplates the dark horizon, the sun having set while we were in the restaurant. "Do you want to go see a movie?" she asks suddenly, twirling around to face me. "I don't know if your opinion on artsy cinema has changed at all, but there's a film I've been wanting to see that came out a few weeks ago."

I arch my eyebrows, trying to decide if I'm surprised or amused by her request. "Movies would be great."

Her face breaks into a delighted smile and she waves her phone in my direction. "Alright! There's a showing at 8:15. Theater is a few blocks away, though."

I check the time. "Well, then we'd better start walking, huh?"

Ayn's smile widens and she steps in -- to do what, I'm not sure, because she freezes when our phones both go off at the same time.

We pause, uncertain of how to proceed.

I'm still holding my phone out, though she was in the process of tucking hers back into her pocket. Her eyes drop down to the screen broadcasting a message from the Assistant Program Manager up to the night sky.

Her eyes widen and she inhales sharply.

For some reason, I'm immediately on the defensive. "It's not--" I start, but her hands shoot out and grab my wrist. It's not what you think it is, I'm about to say, with zero idea what she thinks it might be, but her face hardens and she retreats the step that she had just taken.

And then she pulls her phone back out and looks down at it. "So it's like that," she murmurs.

"What?"

Her eyes land on me and she searches, searches, and finally finds an answer. "You're Zoné and Jun's Informant, aren't you?"

My stomach plummets to my feet, and I nearly drop my phone as everything goes numb. There's a ringing in my ears, and I miss what she says next. But that's not the important thing. "You're participating?"

She tilts her head to the side. "I am."

"Who is your team?"

"That's not important--"

"Ayn--"

"It's not. What is important right now is that they're going to come and check on us." She heaves a sigh and purses her lips. That's the expression I remember on her, pondering something so intently that there are deep furrows in her brow. "It doesn't sound like we have to be with our team when they check us in... so we should be okay."

"I mean, I guess..." My head is still reeling, and somehow she doesn't seem to care all that much. "How are you not as shocked by this as I am?"

"Believe me," she says, thumb swiping over her phone screen. "I am very shocked. I just don't think we can worry about it right now." She holds her phone up to her ear, and before I can get the chance to push the topic, my phone starts to ring in my hand.

Rhys' contact picture pops up, and it takes me several seconds to piece it together before I answer the call. "Hey, Rhys."

His breath comes out in a rush of wobbly static. "I'm sorry, I hate to bother you at this time..."

Leave it to him to be apologetic and formal when sounding distressed. "It's not a problem. What's up?"

Behind me, Ayn is holding a muted conversation on her phone. Probably with her teammate. She turns her back to me so I can't see her expression.

"That message--"

"Yeah, talk about bad timing. We're going to have to skip our movie." And a lot more besides. I don't think she’ll want to talk about Meliora tonight, but I am already mentally trying to figure out when I'll be able to sit her down and talk.

We're in the same city for two years, unable to leave, and only just run into each other by chance. And now we find out that we're participating in the same game? It's too many coincidences.

Rhys hesitates before pushing on. "Could you do me a favor? I'm unable to check on the twins." There's a long silence after that, and I hear his breath hitch in the silence.

I put together the unspoken request before he can regain his composure. "Yeah, man. Totally. We're in the area, so we can head over."

"Thanks," he says, relief painfully obvious in his voice. "I'll text Liala. Lionel's disconnected his phone."

"Got it. I'll call you after it's done." I'm not too sure what has been going on with their team, because it's been some time since Rhys and I have hung out. It's been a considerable amount of time since the three of us, Rhys, Kaito and myself, have hung out the way that we used to.

"Thank you."

The conversation is over, but I can hear the anxiety in his voice, so I speak up before he can end the call. "Hey, Rhys?"

There's a pause before his hesitant, "Yes?" sounds through the speaker.

I consider my words, weighing the options I have to try and console him. I've never liked telling him to calm down, because it makes it sound like he's being irrational. I've seen him when he's had these anxiety spikes, and I know that worrying about the twins during this game is making it worse.

"I know telling you not to stress is kind of pointless," I begin, because he's always stressed -- sometimes, just worse than others. "So just remember to breathe. They'll be okay."

"I know. I owe you."

I laugh because that is so typically like him. "No, you don't. I'll talk to you later." I hang up and look up to see Ayn watching me curiously. "Uh, so."

"Movie is out of the question."

"Yeah, it is...." I tap my phone against my leg before slipping it back into my pockets. "I promised a friend that I'd go check on his… er… Team."

Her eyebrow quirks at my hesitation, but she doesn't ask for clarification.

"My friend, Rhys. He's..." It's a struggle to find out the best way to put this into words. “His younger siblings are participating with him."

"Siblings?"

"Twins."

She puts it together quickly enough. "You're going to go check on them?" I nod, and Ayn tucks her hair behind her ear. "Alright. Let's go. How far is it from here?"

I marvel over how put together she is. There's no doubt, no hesitation in her actions. Meanwhile, I'm still caught up on the fact that she's participating, trying to figure out how I'm going to manage the twins, trying to figure out if Zoné and Jun will be okay.

I send my team a swift message to check on them as we start walking. I also send a message to Lia, letting her know I'm on my way.

Despite the time that we have on the walk, Ayn and I don’t discuss the situation. I don’t know how to bring it up, and she very clearly won’t. We’re already clearly off to a great start on communication.

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