The smell of dust and old disinfectant clung to the empty classroom. Thalya wiped down the last desk, her movements mechanical, but her mind far away.
The hollow feeling from that morning—that black hole where the memory of why she hadn't sent Seina a message should have been—still haunted her. It was like an itch in her brain she couldn't reach.
Task finished, she dumped the dirty bucket water into the school garden and stood still for a moment, watching the students leave. Where would Seina be now? At work already, no doubt. That job that drained her down to the last drop of energy.
She pulled her phone from her pocket. The doubt lasted only a second before determination spoke louder. The need to see that Seina was okay was stronger than the hesitation.
Thalya (8:34 pm): Hi. I'm done here. Which market is it again where you work?
The reply came almost instantly, with a map pin. Night Sun. Thalya didn't think twice.
The walk to the market was quick. The bell rang when she stepped in, and the cold air from the AC greeted her. The place was darker than she had imagined, lit by fluorescent lights that hummed softly. She looked at the register. Empty.
A brief chill ran down her spine. "Where is she?"
Walking quietly through the narrow aisles, between shelves crammed with dusty products, her heart seemed to beat faster. And then, at the back of the store, near the drink freezers, she saw her.
Seina had her back turned, organizing cans on a high shelf. The oversized plaid apron couldn't hide the line of her waist, nor the curve of her shoulders under the T-shirt.
The cold freezer light illuminated the back of her neck, where a few dark strands of hair had escaped her messy ponytail. Thalya stopped, breathless, and swallowed hard.
She couldn't help it. Her eyes traced Seina's figure from top to bottom, from her worn sneakers to her messy bangs. There was a strength there, a quiet resilience in that posture, that she had never noticed so clearly.
Seina froze, feeling the weight of that gaze like a physical touch. Her heart sped up in a way that wasn't uncomfortable, it was… anxious. For a fraction of a second, she wondered what it would be like if Thalya pinned her against the shelves.
"H-how long are you going to stand there staring at me, huh?" Seina's voice sounded without her turning around.
Thalya jolted mentally. Seina could see her through the foggy reflection in the freezer glass door. A sudden heat took over Thalya's face, and she blushed to the roots of her hair.
"I… wasn't staring" she lied, awkwardly, stepping closer. "I just came… to see if you were alive. After today."
Seina finally turned around, a small tired smile on her lips. "I'm alive. More or less."
The conversation flowed easily, in a whisper between the shelves. Thalya leaned against the freezer while Seina worked, talking about how annoying the punishment was, about history class. It was a moment of normalcy, fragile and precious.
A few customers came in, and Seina had to go back to the register. Thalya stayed behind, took out an earbud and put on some music, watching Seina work. There was a grace in her movements, even in her exhaustion. The way she lowered her head to grab products from under the counter, her patience with the older customers.
When the store was empty again, a strange courage took hold of Thalya. She took out one earbud and, staring at Seina's back as she arranged another shelf, began to sing.
It was an opera melody, the same one she had sung in the street that distant night. But this time, it wasn't for the void. It was for someone. The voice came out soft at first, then grew fuller, filling the empty market with a sad and powerful beauty that clashed sharply with the coldness of the place.
Seina stopped what she was doing, but didn't turn around. She stayed still, listening.
The voice stopped as softly as it had begun. The silence that followed was heavy with something new, something tender.
"Damn, girl. What a voice." Mr. Kim's hoarse voice came from the office door. He was there, watching. "It's almost a shame to hear something like that in a place like this." He looked at Seina. "Kid, it's quiet today. You can go home. And take the opera singer with you before she shakes my freezers apart with all that vibration."
Outside the market, the night air was a relief. They walked in silence for a while.
As they approached the small, neglected garden of Seina's house, Thalya was about to make a comment about the wilted flowers, but the words died on her lips.
From inside the house, through a half-open window, voices and the sound of objects breaking cut through the silence of the street. It was Seina's parents. The argument was so violent, so filled with old poison, that the anger could be felt in the air.
Thalya stopped, frozen. She heard words like "useless," "shame," and "money." Seina, beside her, said nothing. She just… wilted. Her shoulders curved forward, her head lowered, as if she were taking a physical blow. It was the posture of absolute defeat, of someone who had heard that a thousand times.
"Wow" the word slipped from Thalya in a breath of disbelief and pity. "It's worse than I thought."
Seina didn't even look at her. She seemed to want to disappear.
That was when Thalya acted. She turned, blocking Seina's view of the house, and placed a gentle hand on her arm.
"Forget it. You're not going in there today" she said, her voice firm but soft. "Come with me. You'll sleep at my place, it's quiet there… empty, but quiet."
Seina finally lifted her eyes. There was a mix of shame and hope in them, a vulnerability that broke Thalya's heart.
"Are… you sure?" Seina's voice was a thread.
"I'm more sure about this than about anything," Thalya replied, holding her gaze. "Come on.
And, for the first time in days, Seina nodded in a gesture that wasn't resignation, but acceptance of a lifeline.
"Okay. Thank you."