Kira didn't hate her life. She just didn't feel much about it.
Most days followed the same pattern. Wake up when the alarm buzzed too loudly. Lie there for a few seconds, staring at the ceiling, thinking about nothing in particular. Make coffee that was either too strong or too weak. Rush out the door because she always misjudged time by five minutes.
She worked at a small publishing office downtown which wasn't glamorous. She edited other people's stories for a living, fixed sentences, smoothed out emotions and deleted words that felt unnecessary. It was quiet work. Predictable but safe.
She liked safe.
Her usual bus came at 7:58 in the morning and 6:10 in the evening. Same route, same stops. Same view of the bakery that smelled amazing but was always too expensive for daily visits.
She avoided certain areas of the city without admitting to herself why. Some streets just felt heavier than others, so she built her routine around lighter ones.
That evening, she left work later than usual.
It was 4:52 when she shut her laptop. She could've waited for her normal bus, but it would take too long. So she decided to take the older route. The one she hadn't used in years.
She told herself it didn't matter.
The walk felt strangely familiar. The convenience store on the corner still had the same faded sign. The pavement near the bus stop still had that long crack running through it.
When she checked the schedule board, her stomach tightened.
5:17 PM.
She used to know that timing by heart.
The bus would come in three minutes.
She stepped closer to the bench, trying not to overthink it. It was just a bus stop. Just a number.
Then she saw her.
Standing near the pole. Looking down at her phone. One hand pushing hair behind her ear in the exact same way she used to.
Kira stopped walking.
For a second, it didn't register. Her brain tried to explain it away. Coincidence. Similar haircut. Wrong person.
But then the girl looked up.
Their eyes met.
And that was it.
They were both struck with stillness.
Kira felt her heartbeat jump, sharp and sudden. She hadn't planned for this. She hadn't even thought about this place in years, and yet here it was. Here she was.
They stared at each other for half a second too long before Kira forced herself to nod.
A small but careful nod.
The girl nodded back.
That was the first exchange.
Kira walked to the bench and sat down, leaving a space between them. Not huge, just enough.
"Hi," she said.
Her voice sounded normal. Which felt strange.
"Hi."
Silence immediately followed. The kind that isn't awkward yet, but could become awkward if no one moves it somewhere else.
"You take this route now?" the girl asked.
"Sometimes," Mira replied.
It wasn't fully true. But it wasn't a lie either.
Another pause.
"I didn't know you still came here."
"I don't. Not usually."
The answer hung between them.
Kira became painfully aware of everything. The sound of a bike passing. A dog barking somewhere far off. The sky turning that soft orange before evening properly settles in.
She wanted to say something real. Something that mattered.
But all that came out was, "How've you been?"
"Good."
"You?"
"Good."
The word felt thin. But it was safer than the truth.
She stole a quick glance. The girl looked older. Not in a dramatic way, just… grown. A little more tired around the eyes, a little more careful in the way she stood.
Kira wondered what she looked like from the other side.
There was no anger in the air. No sharpness. Just something quiet and unfinished.
The bus headlights appeared at the end of the street.
5:17
Right on time.
They both stood up at almost the same moment, then hesitated because they nearly stepped forward together.
The bus pulled up with a soft hiss.
For a second, Kira considered saying something more. But her thoughts tangled too quickly.
The doors opened.
She stepped inside.
Tapped her card.
Found a seat by the window without really thinking about it.
As the bus started moving, she looked out.
The girl was still standing there. Hands in her pockets. Watching the bus pull away.
Then the street shifted, and she disappeared from view.
Kira leaned her head back against the seat. Her heart was still beating too fast. She had spent years avoiding certain streets.
And somehow, the past had been waiting exactly where she left it.
At 5:17.
.
.
.