Nile’s heart pounded in his chest as he watched Dom carefully, his mind racing with doubts. The shimmering of the hallway had faded, leaving only the fluorescent buzz of the overhead lights and the faint, distant echo of voices from nearby classrooms. The oppressive tension from moments ago seemed to have evaporated, but Nile felt none of the relief he’d hoped for.

Dom blinked a few times, her brow furrowing as if she were shaking off the last remnants of a strange daydream. She looked at him, not with the suspicion or anger that had burned in her gaze before, but with a sort of detached familiarity.

"Are you okay?" she asked, tilting her head slightly, her voice steady but casual, like she’d asked him about the weather or a math problem she didn’t want to solve.

Nile hesitated. Was she testing him? Could she sense what he’d done? Or had the memory alteration worked exactly as intended, wiping away the chaos of what had just transpired?

"Yeah," he said, forcing a laugh that sounded hollow to his own ears. "Guess I need to stop skipping leg day. Running from invisible monsters really takes it out of you." He winced internally at how close the description was to what actually happened. Are you trying to get caught? He berated himself.

Dom raised an eyebrow, the corners of her lips twitching as if she were about to smirk but decided against it. "Invisible monsters? That sounds about right for you, Pharoah." Her tone carried the usual teasing edge she used whenever she called him by his self-given nickname, but there was no malice in it -no sign she remembered the insectoid horrors or the fractured reality they’d escaped.

Relief surged through Nile, but it was short-lived. He caught himself scanning her expression for any flicker of recognition, any subtle crack that might reveal the truth beneath her casual demeanor. But Dom just adjusted a strand of her hair and crossed her arms, her stance shifting with the kind of practiced ease she’d mastered over years of self-defense classes.

"You sure you’re not losing it?" she added, her voice light but cutting. "I mean, it’s not like you need any more excuses to skip training."

Nile rubbed the back of his neck, trying to match her tone and play along. "Hey, I was top of my class… in middle school."

Dom snorted softly, her lips curving into a brief, genuine smile before she shook her head. "Sure you were. Whatever helps you sleep at night, champ."

For a moment, the tension eased, and Nile felt like he’d been pulled back into the normal rhythm of their banter. But underneath it all, his mind kept racing. Was this real? Had the reset wiped the slate clean, or had he just buried the truth deep enough to delay the fallout?

"The moment you want to come in here and learn how to defend yourself with more than words, just let me know. I'm sure I could talk the kids into taking it easy on you." Dom smiled, a dark twinkle in her eyes, her tone as sharp as the crack of a whip. She was definitely back to her old self, of that Nile was sure.

She uncrossed her arms and leaned casually against the wall, bracing herself with her elbows as she lounged, projecting an air of effortless confidence. The light from the fluorescents cast a faint sheen on her skin, highlighting the light sweat that marked her brow.

Nile shifted uneasily, running a hand through his hair in a way that betrayed the nervous energy he tried to mask with his usual laid-back smirk. He opened his mouth to fire back with a quip, but the words died on his lips when he met her gaze. There was something unreadable in her expression -a wall he couldn’t scale, no matter how much charm or bravado he threw at it.

Dom’s voice cut through his thoughts. "Anyway, I’ve got a class to get back to. Some of us still have responsibilities, you know?" She kicked off the wall and took a step past him, but then stopped, glancing back over her shoulder. "You coming by the gym later? Or are you going to keep dodging me?"

The casual challenge in her tone was like a jolt, pulling Nile fully into the present. He nodded quickly, his grin almost convincing. "Yeah, maybe. Don’t want to embarrass you in front of your students."

Dom rolled her eyes but didn’t respond. She turned and started to walk away, her footsteps echoing faintly in the near-empty hallway.

"Hey," he began, his voice softer than usual, lacking its usual swagger. Dom paused and turned back to face him. "After seeing you earlier, I thought about it, and I just wanted to come by to say… I’m sorry. For the past week, for everything. I've been a real douche." He exhaled heavily, his hands dropping to his sides like the weight of the words had physically drained him. "But I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you. So… We’re still friends, right?"

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Dom smiled, but it faltered -shifted- like it was trying to figure out what to represent. Eventually it settled on being less biting, more guarded. She tilted her head slightly, her short hair slipping over her shoulder as her dark eyes searched his face. For a moment, she seemed to consider her answer, her lips parting as if she might say something more, but the words never came.

"Yeah, sure," she said finally, her tone light, almost dismissive. "No worries, we’re fine."

The tightness in Nile’s shoulders eased a fraction, but before he could respond, she was already turning away again.

"Listen, I have to go," she added, her back to him now. Her voice was steady, but there was an edge to it -like a blade honed just enough to cut without drawing blood. "I’ll see you later, okay?"

She started walking, her steps brisk, her posture straight and unyielding.

Nile stayed where he was, watching her go. He clenched his fists at his sides, the faint aftershocks of the neural feedback still buzzing in his head. As much as he wanted to believe the memory alteration had worked perfectly, the weight in his chest told him otherwise.

"Nothing," he whispered under his breath, more to himself than to anyone else. "Just a close call."

Then he shook himself, trying to get his thoughts under control.

"Wait, Dom," Nile called after her, his voice tinged with urgency. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, the words tumbling out before he could think better of them. "So I’ll see you Saturday, right? We’re still on, yeah?"

Dom didn’t stop. She didn’t even glance back. Instead, she raised a hand in a lazy wave over her shoulder, her fingers curling briefly in farewell before disappearing around the corner.

Nile stood there, frozen in place, his arm half-lifted as if reaching for something -or someone- just out of grasp. The hum of distant voices from the gym buzzed faintly in the background, a stark contrast to the heavy silence that seemed to settle around him like a shroud.

His gaze lingered on the empty hallway where she’d disappeared, his thoughts churning in a chaotic swirl. After a long moment, he shook his head, a bitter chuckle escaping his lips as he stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets.

"Smooth, real smooth," he muttered to himself, the words tinged with self-deprecation.

He turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing faintly in the corridor. But the silence that followed him felt heavier than it should, as though the weight of unspoken words and unresolved tension clung to the air like a ghost.

**

“I just don’t get it. Why-”

Nile muttered the thought under his breath as he stepped out of the building, the chill evening air brushing against his face.

No, that’s not fair to her, he corrected. Who could blame her? I’m the one-

He barely had a moment to gather himself before a joyful bark rang out, followed by the rapid pounding of paws on the pavement. Around the corner barreled Peanut, a blur of fur and boundless energy, who torpedoed straight into Nile’s legs like a furry missile.

"Hey, boy! I’m excited to see you too!" Nile exclaimed, laughing as he bent to ruffle the dog’s ears. Peanut wagged his tail furiously, his entire body swaying with enthusiasm. "But I’m pretty sure Dom doesn’t know you’re here, does she?"

Peanut barked again, an almost conversational yip that seemed oblivious to the actual words Nile spoke, but wholly attuned to his tone. His wagging tail thumped against Nile’s leg like a metronome set to "joyful chaos."

"Yeah, I didn’t think so," Nile said with a chuckle. He straightened and jerked his thumb toward his van parked nearby. "Wanna go for a ride?"

Peanut didn’t need to be asked twice. As Nile opened the back door of the van, the dog darted forward and leapt inside with the kind of agility only boundless excitement could fuel. But the moment his paws hit the interior, Peanut froze, his body rigid as a statue, his eyes locked on something -or someone.

“Hey, Ash, looks like we’ve got a hitchhiker,” Nile called toward the front, glancing at the passenger seat. “Mind if we take him home?”

Ash turned, her expression calm but curious as she leaned over to look into the back. Peanut’s tail stopped wagging, his ears perked sharply, and his amber eyes bore into her with unsettling intensity.

"Hey, boy," Nile said gently, patting Peanut’s side. "It’s okay. She’s a friend."

Ash, unfazed by the canine scrutiny, slowly extended her hand toward him, her movements measured and deliberate. Peanut shifted slightly, his gaze unwavering as he stared into her eyes with a focus that seemed far too discerning for a dog.

Ash held her ground, as still and unyielding as a statue, letting Peanut sniff her outstretched fingers. For a moment, it seemed like he might relax, but then a low growl rumbled from his throat. Peanut backed away, his ears flattening and his lips pulling back just enough to expose his teeth.

“Hey! Peanut, knock it off!” Nile barked, stepping in and grabbing the dog’s collar. He gave it a firm tug, pulling Peanut back. The dog offered no resistance, almost sagging in relief as Nile clipped the collar to a metal hoop-ring bolted into the floor beside his work desk.

"You’re gonna stay there until you learn some manners," Nile grumbled, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Jeez, I’m starting to sound like my parents."

He shot an apologetic glance toward Ash, who had returned to her seat and was pretending to adjust the passenger-side visor mirror.

"Sorry about that," Nile said, scratching the back of his neck. "He’s never acted like that before. Must be... I don’t know. Maybe he’s just not used to you yet?"

"Yeah," Ash replied, her tone breezy, though a flicker of something unreadable passed through her expression. "That must be it."