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Chapter 36: Seaside Chat

I hesitated to wear the necklace. The red crystal smelled like crisp fruit, but only if I put it right up to my nose.

It's not the worst smell in the world. I can't place the fruit, though.

Even if it did smell nice, I tucked it into my pocket and decided to wait until I could, at the least, ask Alice questions regarding the creepy old lady.

Promises, even those made to this mystical system, did not provide me enough confidence just to don it without a care for caution.

I shook my head and exited the merchant street.

Out of all the things I expected from checking out a town right next to the secret mountain base of werewolves... it wasn't some crazy witch trying to bind me in some deal. Yet it seemed I couldn't escape and just relax. Not even for a day.

Monsters and insanity at every corner, I need to get out of here.

Eventually, my feet carried me past a row of houses, and I smelled the sea breeze spilling from the shore. The sound of human hustle and bustle fell away in favor of crashing waves, so I continued until I saw compacted stone and dirt give way to rough patches of rock and grass.

Entering the untamed part of the land felt like entering a whole new world. Behind me, I saw humanity and structure. But facing forward filled me with a sense of freedom, and I embraced the cool breeze on my skin.

The shoreline stretched for a few miles. The further out I went, the less grass there was until all that remained was dark stone, slick from the waves.

I scanned the horizon and found I wasn't alone.

Her long, dark hair fluttered over her shoulder as the breeze blew it backward. She sat hunched, her knees drawn to her chest, but I couldn't see her face from where I stood.

I slowly approached from the side, not wanting to startle her unexpectedly. My feet crunched against the gravel and stone, and I purposely stepped down harder to create enough noise.

She didn't react.

When I got close enough to see the front of her body, I stopped, and my eyes widened. "Woah. Uh, hey there. You doing okay?"

My words made me cringe, but I didn't know what else to say.

The woman held a sharp knife, the blade as long as my hand. I made no sudden moves and kept my hands jammed into my hoodie pockets.

Her eyes flickered my way, but she stayed rigid, her head straight and unmoving. The knife she clutched tightly reflected the crashing waves in the metal.

Okay, let's take this easy.

"Hey, you're the woman from before, the other survivor, right?"

She flinched and looked at me with haunted eyes. She searched my own, for what, I didn't know.

"You... you're the kid," she said.

"You don't look that much older than me. Kinda rude to call me a kid."

My piss-poor attempt at humor didn't land. I expected something, anything really, but she looked away and back to the sea.

Right…

"Do you mind if I join you?"

No response.

I debated standing but decided to sit and cross my legs underneath me. The area around us was primarily smooth stone, so I wasn't sanding my backside with porous rock.

This close to the shore, the waves crashed loudly against the beach, the foam nearly reaching our feet before it got sucked back in.

My eyes drifted to the knife in her hand. She held it steady, pressed against her breast, the folds of her shirt catching on its edge, fraying the strings.

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Sharp knife. Now, what do you plan on doing with it?

"I'm going to be upfront here. If you want me to leave, I can. I just wanted to know what you plan on doing with that knife."

She looked down but not away. Not to the knife, either.

"I can also just sit here in silence if you want."

Her feet wiggled, and she tapped the ground with her toes. She didn't reply but nodded slowly.

It's not exactly a direct answer, but I'll take it.

Slowly, I brought my hand to my chest and felt the heat radiating off my skin. Even through the thick hoodie, I felt it. The cold breeze didn't bother me in the slightest. I rubbed my fingers and grazed the wet stone, and while it should have been freezing, I didn't shiver.

Unlike me, the woman wore the scratchy pants and shirt combo given to me the night before. I knew what the fabric felt like, how thin the material was, and she must have been freezing.

Yet she didn't shiver or shake—just a rigid posture that refused to budge.

One of the waves came down, and the surf came up to our toes. My leather shoes took the hit, but the woman's feet got coated in the seafoam. Again, she did not flinch.

"How?" she asked after the wave receded.

"How what?"

Another wave rolled in, followed by a gust that sent her hair spilling across her face. She brushed the stray strands aside once the wind settled.

"How are you okay?"

I kept my eyes on the distant birds flapping in the sky. They looked free, gliding in a sea of clouds.

"What makes you think I am?"

She breathed in deep. "Your shoulders, your posture, you don't carry the weight you should."

I blinked. "Or maybe I'm good at hiding it?"

Her lips twitched. "No. Your eyes lack the haunted look. Your shoulders are too relaxed. You walk with ease."

It sounded like an accusation, but I didn't think she meant to blame me for anything.

"I… huh. If you said that to me a day ago, I might have screamed at you. I don't know what you've been going through these last few days, but it's been a nightmare for me."

Her fingers tightened around the handle, and her toes pressed against the stone.

She's not entirely wrong. But that doesn't mean it's been all roses and sunshine, lady.

My eyes drooped, and I hunched forward, letting my cloak bunch around my waist. White bangs fell over my eyes, and I stared at the stark color mixed in with my brown hair. "Do you remember things from before? From Earth?"

This time, she looked. Her face turned to inspect mine. "Yes. All of it. Why?"

"I don't. At least, I think I don't. I'm not entirely sure. Some things are hazy, but I try not to dwell on that. Focusing on what's ahead of me these past few days has been easier. It gives me less time to think about what I know is missing from my head."

Her eyes met mine, and I smiled. When she turned back to the ocean, my smile slipped into a frown.

"I have all my memories. Every single one. I wish I didn't."

A part of me expected to feel angry at her response, but I felt nothing. I shrugged and leaned back. "Yeah, well, I didn't forget everything. I still have some memories, probably a lot. But if I think too hard about it, the fuzzy details start to show."

"Lucky," she whispered.

Yeah, I don't think so…

"To each their own. At least it helps with my new reality."

"You're dressed like them."

"Yeah, I am."

For over a minute, she said nothing. The birds from before flew overhead, cawing on their way inland. I watched as a single feather drifted down and landed somewhere on the shoreline.

"Do you regret it?" she tapped her wrist, the one holding the knife. "You don't want to go back?"

I shook my head. "No. I made my choice; I'll live up to it. It's not all bad, cool magic, awesome perks, new family, that sort of stuff."

There's no point in telling her I can't go home. Not when I don't even know how to feel about it.

"Can't be that easy."

"No. Not at all."

"I see."

A cloud drifted overhead, blocking out the sun. The golden rays gave way to overcast, and I noticed a change in her posture. Her shoulders relaxed, and she raised her chin. My eyes focused on the hand holding the knife. She slowly extended it, her thumb lightly sliding over the bolster and onto the blade's spine.

"Hey..." I said carefully.

She exhaled, flipped the knife around, extended her arm, and gripped the knife by the sides. She pushed the handle toward me. "Do you mind if I ask for some help?"

"Help with what?" I asked, tentatively accepting the knife.

"I came here to cut my hair. Can you do it? I don't have a mirror."

Oh.

"Yeah, sure. I might screw it up more than you could, though. I always used a barber to cut mine."

A fragile smile played on her lips. "That's fine. It can always grow back."

Well, this beats what I originally thought you were going to do.

"Alright, just don't blame me."

I moved into position behind her back, and she lowered her head, exposing her neck. She took her hair and ran her fingers through it before sliding it down to just above the shoulder.

"Don't worry about making it even."

I gently placed the knife against the bundle of hair and began applying pressure. The blade had such a sharp edge that the strands fell away with the lightest touch. Once I made the first cut, I paused and waited for confirmation.

She nodded, so I continued. I knew I shouldn't cut in a direct, straight line, so I angled it and kept it as close to the length as she wanted. As the blade came out the otherside, I stepped back, and she released her hair to smooth it out.

It was… decent. Not pretty, but not bad either.

"I can, uh, fix that edge for you?"

She held out her palm, and I gave her the knife. She held it up to inspect her new look. "Honestly, not that bad. A little jagged towards the middle, but better than what I could have done."

"If you're fine with it," I said with a shrug.

After combing her hair with her fingers, she bent down and picked up the fallen strands, scooping them into her hands. Her eyes held melancholy as she rubbed the hair. When she approached the edge, she let it fall away as the breeze carried into the water.

She nodded once, and she turned and approached. "Thank you."