Iris's POV
The days were becoming colder with the onset of winter.
A cool guest of wind hit my face as I stepped out of the door.
I quickly checked for my old reports and receipts in my bag.
As I attempted to close the door, I was stopped by the sudden appearance of my tall housemate.
He was in his school uniform and his bag hung lazily over his one shoulder.
"Going somewhere?"
"Are you going to school today?"
We both asked at the same time.
I looked at him for a moment.
"Yes."
He replied to my question.
"And you?''
"Hospit–" That escaped my mouth before I could think.
"Hospital? Why? Are you sick again?"
I was met by back to back with unexpected questions.
"Ahh...I mean I was going to check on grandma for a bit.."
He raised his eyebrow.
"Don't you believe me?"
Looking at his reaction, I raised one of my hands to show my biceps...
Which were...
Not quite visible.
"What?" He asked.
"See I am perfectly fit and strong."
"..."
He tried to look clearly, searching for the thing I wanted to show him.
"Why are you not saying anything?"
"Nothing, I just became scared by seeing your strength."
I relaxed my arm and nodded with satisfaction.
As we walked to the bus stop, I heard him chuckle lightly.
For the first time that morning, the knot in my chest loosened a little.
The hospital. The MRI. The waiting.
It all felt a little less heavy.
Maybe my attempt had been childish.
Maybe I looked ridiculous trying to show off a bicep that barely existed.
But hearing him laugh—hearing him sound so normal—made the fear shrink just enough for me to breathe again.
Both of us soon went out seperate ways once the bus to school arrived.
---
The smell of medicines and antiseptics greeted me as I entered into the hospital.
I went through the familiar corridors to reach the Neuro- oncology department again.
I searched for my father's friend in the crowded waiting area.
Patients sat with their families quietly waiting.
I paused.
I suddenly felt alone as I saw the patients' relatives consoling them, and making them ready for their respective tretments.
"Iris."
I turned around to see my doctor there.
I greeted him.
He nodded.
"Come, the technician will show you your way."
I started walking behind the technician.
My palms felt cold.
The MRI machine looked just as intimidating as I expected it to be.
Large.
White.
Uncomfortably narrow.
The technician gave instructions.
I nodded.
Then lay down.
---
The machine started humming.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
I closed my eyes.
I tried not to think about anything.
And in that instant, a face came to my mind.
Hairs scattered across his forehead, as he chuckled slowly.
Suddenly, I felt relaxed.
The feeling of loneliness eased, even if slightly.
For nearly thirty minutes, all I could do was lie there and listen to the machine.
---
When it was over, the technician helped me sit up.
"The report will take a few days."
I nodded.
A few days.
Somehow that sounded longer than it should have.
After leaving the hospital, I stared at the road ahead.
The weight inside my chest hadn't disappeared.
If anything, it felt heavier.
So I did what I always did.
I went to work.
---
The café was unusually busy.
Orders came and went.
Customers filled the tables.
For a few hours, the noise successfully distracted me.
At least until evening arrived.
---
Kaizer's POV
I was still contemplating whether I should ring the bell or not.
I sighed. This was the third time.
Should I?
Suddenly my phone rang, and the caller ID–
I rubbed my temple.
It was the same person who might open the door if I ring the bell.
I picked it up.
"Shouldn't you just ring the bell if you are here?" The person on the phone asked the moment I took my phone to my ear.
"If you know, then why were you watching the show?"
"I wanted to know how much could you resist yourself."
I hung up.
The door in front of me opened.
A middle aged man appeared there. He was wearing his usual glasses and looked at me with a raised eyebrow.
"So..my dear nephew is finally here." He said.
I looked at him, before marching inside the house and sitting at the small sofa nearby.
He brought a glass of the familiar juice before putting it infront of me.
He sat face to face to me as I stared at the glass of juice kept before me.
"Uncle.."
He looked at me. It has been a while since I called him that.
"You didn't complete the conversation last time."
He paused.
"I just got some important work..."
"So complete it."
I glanced at him. He was contemplating something.
"Do you also have hallucinations lately?"
I frowned.
"Hallucinations?"
"Yes, like you can hear what people are not saying out loud.."
For a moment, I just froze.
"They are not–"
"I don't know."
"Huh?"
"Your mom... and my sister used to say things like this too."
"Mom what–?"
"She did." He closed his eyes before leaning back. "I always thought she was just hallucinating."
I was too startled to say something.
I never felt it.
Never.
"If she was really imagining things, I would have been at ease."
I was quiet.
"But..." He paused. "...if she wasn't, then I really don't know what was wrong with her and–"
He looked at me.
"...you."
I remained quiet for a while before speaking.
"Is that all you know about your own sister?"
"She never told me more."
"Wow."
I have a sarcastic laugh.
"It's not like I didn't try to know more. Once we sent her to the old lady, she didn't talk about those things again."
"Which old lady?"
"The seamstress living beside when you were small."
Is he talking about Iris's grandma?
Her journal came to my mind.
The unusual things written in it.
"She...?"
"Yeah, she." He suddenly closed his eyes again. "Mira's mother..."
I looked at him. Why would he still say it like that?
"Don't tell me you still haven't moved on?"
"I am trying to."
"Yes that's why you are still single at this age."
He sighed. I didn't continue.
I could still hear his thoughts. Most of them were about mom.
While others were about... the same name, Mira.
"Ahh... that girl. What's her name again?"
"Iris."
"You said it pretty quickly."
I rolled my eyes as my hands unconsciously touched the black rubber band on my wrist.
"Both of them really resemble each other."
I knew who he was talking about. Maybe he don't know it yet.
How can a daughter not resemble her mother?
"Maybe..."
I finally took the glass of juice and drank it.
The same taste it carried before.
The history professor is surprisingly a good cook.
---
I left the house around evening with more questions than I have arrived with.
Did mom read minds too?
And if she did, why I never felt that?
And Grandma?
Is she really a normal seamstress?
And I had the answers to none.
---
Streetlights illuminated the sidewalks.
The city looked quieter than usual.
I was halfway home when I spotted a familiar figure.
Iris.
She stood near a crossing waiting for the signal.
For some reason, relief immediately settled inside my chest.
"Iris."
She turned around to look at me.
Then smiled.
"Isn't it too late for you to come from school now?" She asked.
I shook my head.
"I just went to my... uncle's house." I clarified.
She nodded.
A pause followed.
Neither of us spoke.
Neither of us tried to ruin the silence.
Yet somehow it felt we already know what we are not speaking.
"Let's walk home." I said.
She looked towards me and then nodded.
We started walking side by side turning into every unnecessary direction which probably would just take us more far from home.
She didn't question why we are not heading home.
I didn't try to point it out either.
Maybe, I just liked walking around the city.
With her.
I glanced at her briefly.
Her thoughts were after all this time,
Still silent.
---
She said some unnecessary things about her day where she ran into a irritating customer.
I listened and reacted to them all.
It was all good.
Until suddenly–
I heard something.
I stopped.
Something felt wrong.
A voice.
No.
Thoughts.
I could hear thoughts.
Faint.
Distant.
Unfamiliar.
My head snapped toward a narrow alley.
The thoughts became clearer.
Then faded.
Then returned again.
Almost like a broken signal.
"What happened?" Iris asked.
I didn't answer immediately.
Because I was staring.
At a man standing beneath a streetlamp.
The man wasn't moving.
But around him—
Something flowed.
Golden.
Thin strands of light circled his body.
Like living threads.
Like liquid sunlight.
Like something that shouldn't exist.
My heartbeat stopped.
"What is that–?" I whispered.
"What?" She asked.
I put my index finger on my lips signalling her to be quiet.
And she did stop asking.
We hid behind a old container as I tried listening to those thoughts.
I still couldn't process the scene in front of me.
What was that thing?
In that moment, I glanced at the girl hiding beside me.
"Can you see that?" I whispered.
Iris frowned.
"See what?"
Her gaze followed mine.
Toward the man.
For several seconds she saw nothing.
Then suddenly—
"Wait..."
Her eyes widened.
A faint golden flicker reflected in them.
Only for an instant.
Then she grabbed her head.
A sharp gasp escaped her lips.
"Iris!"
Immediately I turned toward her.
Her face had gone pale.
One hand pressed against her temple.
Only a few seconds passed.
Maybe less.
But when I looked back—
The light was gone.
Completely.
The man remained beneath the streetlamp.
Alone.
Ordinary.
And most importantly—
Silent.
The thoughts had disappeared too.
---