Before the universe learned how to scream.
Before the stars learned how to burn.
Death learned how to wait.
Death is not the opposite of life.
It is the proof that life happened.
To fear death is to misunderstand time.
You are not a moment passing through the world.
The world is passing through you.
Record Four - Mina
She would later insist this had not happened. That no one grabbed her out of nowhere, no fingers closing around her waist, no sudden pull that stole her balance before she could even register surprise.
But the ground had met her back too quickly, breath torn from her chest in a sharp, humiliating gasp. And then there was a face.
Too close. Unreasonably close.
Warm breath brushed her mouth. Eyes fixed on her with open interest. One hand hovered near her waist as if it had only just realized it was holding her at all. The other lingered near her shoulder, suspended in that dangerous space between pulling away and staying exactly where it was.
She lay frozen, heat flooding her neck, her thoughts scattering into nothing useful at all.
It lips parted in something like wonder.
“Ah.”
A pause. A breath too near her lips.
“There you are.”
Mina woke before the alarm because she always did. Pink stared back at her from every surface. Plushies piled against the wall. Stickers climbed the wardrobe mirror in uneven constellations. Hello Kitty with stars, Hello Kitty with wings, Hello Kitty holding knives that were definitely unofficial merch. A small army of them watched her breathe.
She lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, letting the morning settle into her bones.
The city hummed faintly through the window. Somewhere outside, a truck complained. Somewhere closer, her phone vibrated once and stopped, ignored.
She sat up, hair a mess, shirt twisted, stepping carefully around stuffed animals. She brushed her teeth while staring at her reflection, eyes still half a sleep, toothpaste foam threatening rebellion.
Her routine was loose, unbothered.
She paused at the door on her way out, glanced once at the room.
“Don’t miss me,” she told it.
None of them listened.
The walk to the cafe was her favorite part of the day.
She passed the same cracked pavement, the same dog that always barked like it had a personal vendetta, the same old man who sold flowers and never looked up.
She walked with her hands in her pockets, shoulders loose, eyes sharp.
She noticed things.
A woman arguing with herself. A man counting coins twice. The way the air felt heavier near the alley and lighter near the bakery. By the time the cafe came into view, her mood had settled into something easy. Amused. Awake. Ready to bother Lia.
She spotted Lia immediately.
Lia stood at the counter, posture soft, attention split between wiping a surface that was already clean and the man sitting alone at the table near the window.
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
She smiled to herself.
“Shadow man?”
The reaction was instant and glorious.
She was already wrapping around Lia like they belonged, chin settling against her shoulder with practiced ease.
“Oh relax,” she murmured, already comfortable. Warm. Close. Invasive on purpose.
“Get off.”
“No.”
She felt Lia sigh before she heard it. Felt the way she leaned back without thinking. Familiar weight. Familiar shape.
Her gaze drifted lazily past Lia's shoulder, and landed on the man.
Ah.
She tightened her grip just a fraction.
“So,” She said mildly, eyes still on him. “That’s the shadow man.”
“Hm.”
‘He looks old.” she teased.
Lia shifted. “He’s not..” “he’s..”
She tilted her head curious. “He’s?”
Lia shook it off. “nothing.”
She smiled, slow and satisfied. “You’re salivating.”
“I’m not! “
She hummed.
Lia tried to slip free. She adjusted without effort, matching every movement before it finished. Lia tried again. And again. She countered. A small, silent dance they’d perfected since they’d been together.
She released her a moment later, bored of dominance, stepping back like nothing had happened.
Lia turned away immediately.
She watched Lia scan the cafe. Watched her frown. Watched her look toward the door.
The morning passed faster than expected.
“Huh.”
She stared at the customer.
The woman looked to be somewhere in her forties, maybe early fifties. Carefully styled hair that hadn’t moved in years. A sensible coat buttoned too high for the weather.
“Its bland,” the woman said, tapping the plastic lid once with her index finger. “It doesn’t have sugaar. It’s tasteless. Get me another cup.”
She leaned in slightly, lowering her voice like this was confidential.
“Did you stir it?”
The woman frowned. “Of course I stirred it.”
“With the stick,” she clarified.
“Yes.”
“All the way to the bottom.”
A pause.
“..I don’t see how that.. “
“It matters,” She said evenly. “ The sugar settles.”
The woman’s lips pressed thin. Her eyes flicked to the cup, then back to Mina, as if offended by the implication that gravity applies to her.
Mina opened her mouth, clearly prepared to explain why it was.. when a hand landed on her shoulder and guided her sideways. Gently. Decisively.
“Hi,” Lia said, already reaching for the cup. “ I’m so sorry about that. Let me get you a new one.”
She made a small sound of protest as she was relocated behind the counter. Lia slid a fresh cup across the counter with a practiced smile. “ On the house.”
The woman’s posture softened immediately. Vindicated. She accepted the cup with a satisfied nod and turned away without another word.
As she left, Lia turned closer to her without looking.
“ You’re the reason our regulars stopped coming.”
She reached back and slid her phone from her pocket, screen already awake by the time it cleared the fabric. She leaned one hip against the counter, thumb flicking through photos with unhurried precision. She turned the screen towards Lia.
“Look,” she said.
A parade of pastel filled the display. Hello kitty plushies stacked in a too neat arrangement. Pink bow. Tiny stitched smiles. One with a strawberry hat. Another wrapped in a cafe apron almost identical to theirs.
“ I got the baker one,“ she continued calmly. “ Limited run. The ears are uneven on purpose.”
“Mm,” Lia replied.
“And this one glows in the dark.”
“Nice.”
“And this one looks like when you peed your pants in sch…”
“Mhm.”
She glanced at Lia. Her eyes were on the espresso machine, hands moving on autopilot. Listening only in theory.
She stepped closer. Leaned in until her lips brushed the shell of Lia’s ear, voice dropping just enough to disappear into her.
“What you thinking about?”
Lia stiffened. Her hand twitched. A cup rattled softly against the counter.
“ N…nothing,” she said too fast.
“You’re thinking about him again.”
Lia inhaled sharply .
“Hmmm,” Mina hummed, satisfied.
She leaned in, close enough that Lia had to tilt her head back just to breathe.
“You want to do him?”
Lia reacted on pure reflex, jerking back. Foot catching awkwardly on the mat. The motion sent her off balance, a sharp, breathless sound tearing from her as she pitched sideways.
She caught her.
One arm slipped around Lia’s waist, firm and immediate, pulling her back before she could fall. Their bodies collided chest to chest, too close, momentum pressing them together for a half-second longer. Her other hand braced against the counter besides Lia’s hip, boxing her in.
Lia froze. Heat flooded her face. Her hands hovered uselessly at Mina’s shoulders, unsure whether to push or cling.
She looked down at her, eyes calm. Amused.
“Hmm,” she said softly. “so that’s what's going on inside that head of yours.”
Lia shoved her hard.
“Shut up!”
“Something’s wrong with you.”
She stepped back easily, letting the contact break on her terms. Lia turned away at once, shoulders tense, ears burning red.
She watched her for a moment, then glanced back at her phone.
She added another Hello Kitty to the cart.
The rest of the day blurred past her in quiet motion. Customers came and went, the click of cups and soft hiss of the espresso machine folding into rhythm. By the time she clocked out, she felt the weight of the day on her shoulders. Earlier than usual, she headed home, intent on sleep.
“I know you just want to go to sleep,” Lia had said, perched on the counter, arms crossed, head tilted slightly.
She had shot her a look. “One hour left.. No customers…Byee. “
She collapsed onto her bed, hugged a giant plushie, room quiet except the soft tick of a clock. Only one hour passed, or at-least it felt that way, before her phone buzzed, vibrating against the sheets. She groaned and grabbed it half-asleep.
Lia.
“Mina…he’s here!”
She squinted at the screen. “Who!”
“ Elos.”
“Huh.”
“He’s here…I..I bumped into him….”
“stalker?”
“No, you idiot.. are you not listening?”
“Huuh…what are you talking about?”
“Come over.”
“Kay.”
She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, phone still clutched loosely in one hand. The soft glow from the screen illuminating her half-closed eyes.
What’s that idiot talking about..? she muttered under her breath, voice almost swallowed by the quiet of the room.
She slipped on her shoes, tugged on her jacket and let the door click shut behind her. The hall was empty, the faint hum of the buildings lights the only companion to her thoughts.
The streets were quiet, empty in the gentle lull of early evening. Her footsteps echoed softly against the pavement, a slow rhythm that matched the pulse of her curiosity. Five minutes, maybe six, from her apartment to Lia’s. If she didn’t get distracted.
And of course she did.
A cat darted across the curb, chasing a rat that seemed to vanish into a shadowed alley. She stopped, one foot on the pavement watching the absurd little chase with mild amusement. She didn’t notice the faint glimmer. A flash that bent the edges of the street just slightly, a whisper of something brushing the corner of her vision. It was too quick, too subtle.
The cat hung in mid-leap, claws stretched forward. Just inches away the rat hovered at the edge of the escape, tail curved, whiskers trembling in the air that no longer moved. A plastic bag floated in the air caught in a wind that no longer existed.
Then came the pull.
Hands on her, sudden and firm, yanking her off balance.
“Huh…whaa..?”
Her body hit the ground, a harsh breath stolen from her chest, knees scraping the asphalt. She blinked.
He was there.
Closer that any human should be. Her gaze traced his face. Pale, impossibly sharp features that seemed too smooth, too symmetrical. Eyes like smoke, deep and endless. The corners of his mouth lifted faintly. Not a smile. Not a smirk. One hand hovered near her waist, the other suspended at her shoulder, an imperceptible pressure that anchored her to the spot without touch.
Her thoughts scattered.
Huh…what happened ? Who are you?
“Ah.”
The word came quietly. His lips near hers.
Her hands pressed against the ground instinctively.
The moment lingered long. Heavy.
“There you are.”
And in the center of it all, the air felt thicker. Not cold. Not heavy.
