The grounding scent of fresh coffee both exhilarated and calmed Nan as they brought their whiskers and fuzzy lips forward to the mug. "Mm," they hummed before smiling and grinding their copper-tinted teeth together. Twitching their whiskers and wiggling their nose, they swiveled their head around in search of their glasses. Neon blue-green, bottle thick glasses with ribbons fit snugly on their muzzle and weighed down on their nose just enough to ease its tingling absence. The glasses were more than necessary: an accident in the facial reconstruction process from human to mouseman had left their eyeballs elongated. At least, they thought with a smile, they make me just as cute as I wanted to be. They couldn't be less bothered about the operation and its consequences. A quick twirl in front of the mirror revealed the extent of the changes they'd undergone. A flat chest was neatly hidden beneath a brown and white dress. They resembled a ginger bread woman with large false pearls and faux satin strips trailing down to the waist. Brown nylon stockings were custom-fitted to the toes of their bottom paws. Most exciting of all, Nan's tail was adorned in studded steel bracelets. And now to see about those files, they nearly squealed to themself in delight.

Nan locked the door and stepped carefully downstairs from their living quarters to the library below. The metal staircase had become delightfully tactile since the surgery 5 years ago. They felt joy from the cool railing and mesh beneath their paws. "Good morning Piper!" Nan squeaked as they entered the front lounge. The redhead was too busy addressing work emails to respond. Neighbor Duchesne, in for his morning coffee, waved halfheartedly before returning to the physical newspaper that they'd ordered for library records. Nan didn't want to dwell on their irritation from the poor responses. Besides, they understood that just about everyone was in their library for peace, quiet, and solitude.

They were careful to scour the labyrinth of computer desks and bookshelves for sleeping customers. Overnighters in the nap room were allowed, but they hoped to never deal with customers waking up panicked and late for work or school. They never found one, to their relief. They were glad that most, if not all of the visitors were sober and clean. Several students taking online classes started to gather in study rooms. The odd conspiracy theorist, author, and comic enthusiast preferred the soundproofed rooms where no talking was allowed. Old man Odie was plugging away at his daily blog about the urban permaculture revolution, while journalist Aliyah was debunking claims from his last post.

Circling back to the bean bag area of the main lounge, Nan spotted a familiar and petite frame shrouded in dark hair. Not sleeping or conscious, Sara was sitting by a corn tree. Her deep violet hair reflected pink highlights from cozy lamps. Her stillness was robotic. Over the years, they'd picked up that Sara's brain and cybernetics didn't always agree on what to do with her thoughts. Patiently, they waved at her. "Hello friend. Good morning!"

Sara's large eyes didn't blink. They were completely still, void of an idle wiggle. Her pale skin was smooth and soft but didn't hold any peachy blush or fuzz. Nan took the moment to ponder how her semi-synthetic skin was the opposite to their own furry, chocolate pelt. "Sara, wake up. It's me, Mousey Nan. And it's eight in the morning on a Tuesday."

Sara's heart began to pound, making her whole body quake. Listening closer with big, round ears, they could detect soft clicking and bubbling. The bio-compatible computers inside of Sara were working hard. Infrared sensors in Nan's face alerted them to her fever. They waited patiently, looking into Sara's blank, gray pupils. Her apertures were fully widened, leaving a dull grainy shine from within. Nan decided to get some coffee and a snack for when Sara would come to.

It wasn't too unusual for her to be 'buffering' like this in the morning. While assembling a sandwich from a bagel, an egg patty, bacon, and cheese, Nan reflected on the moments where they saw Sara dissociate or freeze in place. The episodes were shorter and less frequent than a few years ago, when they first met. After several surgeries, therapies, and the passage of time, Sara started coming into her own. Returning with a hot mug of black coffee and sandwich, Nan sat patiently across from Sara, hoping that the smell and sight of food would help wake her up.

"Hey, breakfast?" Nan whispered gently, offering the dense meal on a paper plate.

Slowly, Sara's pupils constricted and her indigo irises shone with life. She blinked, her eyelids catching briefly from dehydration. The events of the past 20 minutes replayed quickly in her head. "Shit. I'm so Sorry Nan, I'm back," Sara said, taking the coffee in her hands. "Thanks for breakfast again, and good morning."

"Good morning again!" they squeaked excitedly. "How long were you out for?"

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"Only twenty minutes this time," she smiled briefly. Part of her wanted to crawl back into the tunnel of motionless contemplation, seeking what shut her down. But Nan's fire for life always had a way of rubbing off on her. "I figured I'd just spend the whole day here, today. This is my safe space, after all."

"Oh, something happened last night," Nan stated, remembering what drew Sara to their warm den of paper and computers. "Do you remember?"

"No, nothing happened last night," Sara thought she corrected the mouseman. "Oh, last night, when I was cleaning! I remember now." She gave a courteous and anxious chuckle. "I put on some music, and I was trying to clean my closet. Well, the shoes in my closet. But I saw a vision. There was some guy... I don't remember a thing about him, except he was a guy and he was sitting." She went quiet again, trying to find the words that followed her recollection.

"Ah, I see! Would you like a notepad and pen?" Nan offered, rushing to get ahold of Sara's old ID. They always wanted to know what she looked like before her mods.

"Just hold on a second Nance, let me explain it all," Sara insisted, acknowledging their desire to control situations before they even unfold. "I do want a pen and paper, thanks, but I was thinking: What if it has something to do with my past life? Like, the time before I was Sara."

"Ohh," Nan murmured. "You know, I was thinking that all along, but I didn't want to say it to be rude. I think you're onto something. Don't you have other documents from before the transition?"

"Yeah, I do. But I think it might also be things that happened during. It really ate me up last night and I couldn't sleep, but I couldn't remember either." Her smokey eyelids drooped as she frowned. There were too many words to choose from and too many trains of thought to board, rendering her silent. Nan decided to listen anyway. "I think something happened before and during the transition, that was connected. One continuous event that spanned between those two eras of my life, and stopped a couple of years after I was in that transition program."

"Ah, I see," Nan said, trying to put the pieces together despite only having abstractions and secondhand memories to work with. "Is that program still around? Do you know anyone else who attended it?"

"Well," Sara smiled masochistically as the words returned, "it was a cult. I guess, cult is the best word for it. So everyone who went was sworn to secrecy, until the bust happened 14 years ago. So witness protection hid away a lot of ex-members. Plus, we were all given pseudonyms. I was called Owlet. I remember," she chuckled, "there was one called Witch and another called Plume. Witch and I were friends, I think. They called us all sisters... Anyway, we had to wear costumes with wigs, and all kinds of crazy shit. I bet I'd recognize someone from the program if I ran into them... But I haven't, yet." She couldn't picture Plume or Witch, but she couldn't fathom losing some sense of familiarity.

"Mm," Nan hummed and wiggled their whiskers. "If you want, I can do some sleuthing. It's my thing, after all. I can probably help you find all your old docs and maybe those ex-members."

"Yeah. I think I'd like that, I guess," Sara smiled. She savored the sandwich and coffee, her mind wandering back into the waking world. Anxiously, Nan picked a dictionary and thesaurus to thumb through. No, no, that's not right at all, Nan thought, and ground their rodent teeth together to sooth themself. They grabbed extra copy paper from the recycling bin and a pen from a cup on the table, ready to scribble anything that came to mind.

"What should I look for first?" they asked, tempted to nibble their claws or the scratch paper.

Sara put her purse on the table and pulled out a wrinkled manila folder. "It's been giving me a headache. I can't force myself to open it up again, much less find clues. But maybe you can look through these for me, find out what I might have left behind in my old life."

Nan opened the folder and examined the shiniest of the documents first: her old ID card. Sara looked completely different. A square face, brown hair, and piercings framed dark eyes and a wide smile. Her height was listed as 191 cm, and weight 63 kg. Sex M, Gender F. "Sara Jean Whittaker," Nan read, probing for Sara's reaction. "Do you still go by that full name?"

"I do," she mumbled between bites. "This one I do remember reading. Look at when it was issued."

"January 19, 2122. That was exactly 18 years ago!"

"Mhm," Sara nodded. "I don't know if the surname is original. I did change my name a few times before that, but Sara Jean's stuck."

"Right-o," Nan whispered, copying the contents of the card onto the paper in beautiful loopy handwriting. They tapped their pen against the table, contemplating the address. Washington was a main road not far from the library. If Nan remembered correctly, which they were almost certain they did, 2501 Washington Rd. was just a few bus stops away. "How about the address listed on the card? Have you investigated that at all?"

"No, I haven't," Sara mumbled. Before she could say anything else, Nan placed the paper and pen, then her plate and coffee mug onto the thesaurus and dictionary.

"Bring your docs to the computer room, not the quiet one. We're going to get to the bottom of this immediately!"