|Location: wasteland, camping site|
-ZERO-
As we stepped into the camp, an icy chill slithered beneath my skin, prickling every nerve as if warning me of unseen dangers. The air itself felt thick, heavy with a silent tension that pressed down on my chest. I noticed it immediately—the people we passed didn't simply avoid us. Their eyes burned with a quiet, simmering contempt that made my skin crawl. They didn't bother to mask it; their sharp, dismissive glances cut through me like knives, declaring without words that we were intruders in a world that had no place for us.
It wasn't mere indifference. It was something colder, harder—an unspoken message that we were not welcome here. Especially me. Especially Nuk.
Fred was the worst. Our eyes met briefly, and I felt the heat of his silent aggression like a poisonous dart piercing through me. The memory of Nuk's swift intervention flashed vividly—if Nuk hadn't acted when he did, Fred would have lost an arm. The thought set my blood on fire, an angry flame that refused to die down. Just hearing Fred's name made my nerves fray; there was something about him that unsettled me deeply, a dangerous energy I couldn't ignore.
My mouth tasted bitter and dry as my mind raced to make sense of the hostility that surrounded us. Was I imagining it? Was it real? Every glance, every stiffened posture confirmed it: they wanted us gone. But why? That question echoed relentlessly in my head, demanding answers I knew I couldn't ask—not yet.
I clenched my jaw and forced myself to stay silent, swallowing the storm of questions swirling inside me. For now, I'd wait. Maybe soon, the reason for their coldness would reveal itself.
The walk through the camp felt endless. Each step weighed heavy, like wading through thick mud. The silence between us was suffocating, filled with unspoken thoughts and cautious, fleeting glances. When we finally reached the cluster of tents, Dia was the first to break away.
"I'll rest a bit," she said softly, voice barely above a whisper, her eyes tired but resolute. "Meet you at supper."
Hansel nodded, his expression serious and unreadable. "I have preparations to make. I'll catch up before dinner."
And then it was just me and Nuk.
I trailed behind him, my gaze drawn immediately to the distance between his tent and the others. It stood apart, isolated like a lone sentinel guarding its own solitude. The separation felt deliberate, purposeful. My curiosity surged, but the words wouldn't come. I wasn't sure how to ask.
Before I could speak, Nuk seemed to sense my thoughts.
"If you're wondering why my tent's so far off..." His voice was low and steady, carrying a weight that made me lean in, eager to hear. "I built it this way on purpose. Keeps the peace. Less chance of conflict because of me."
He pushed aside the tent flap and stepped inside. I followed, stepping into a surprisingly spacious interior. The scent of fresh straw and earth was comforting—a small island of calm amid the camp's tension. In one corner, a bed of finely woven straw looked soft and inviting. Nearby stood a sturdy chest, and a small lamp cast a gentle, warm glow.
"What's this?" I asked, my voice filled with wonder as I pointed toward the glowing lamp. Its light wasn't from fire but from a mysterious glowing stone.
"You mean the Sertium?" Nuk raised an eyebrow, surprised I recognized it.
I leaned closer, mesmerized by the soft, steady glow pulsing from within. "Sertium... That's incredible." My excitement bubbled over. "SAI, scan this."
[SCANNING...]
[DATA RECORDING 10%]
[SAI will notify when complete.]
Nuk's sudden voice behind me startled me. "What are you doing?"
I hesitated, a rebellious spark flickering inside me. Revealing too much about SAI felt like breaking an invisible rule, defying some unspoken order.
"Hey, Nuk..." I lowered my voice, careful yet curious. "What's wrong with those people out there? Why do they look at us like that?"
His brow furrowed, eyes darkening with something I couldn't quite place. "They looked like—"
I cut him off, sensing the air tighten between us.
"Let them be," Nuk said quietly but firmly. His words felt like a shield, a boundary not to be crossed. "It's better not to dig into it now."
His reluctance made the silence between us heavier, but there was something protective in it. He didn't want to burden me, or maybe he wasn't ready to share. Still, my mind buzzed with restless questions.
Changing the subject, I tried to bring some lightness back. "So... what about that map you mentioned?"
Nuk turned, scanning me from head to toe. His nose twitched—a tiny, almost involuntary gesture that made me suddenly self-conscious. Without another word, he reached into the chest and pulled out a simple set of clothes.
"You'll get the map soon enough. For now, take these."
The clothes were plain but fit perfectly. I took them, feeling a strange comfort in the gesture. "Thanks."
Nuk nodded, then motioned toward the back of the tent. "You need to take a bath. You smell like a wild worshiper."
My heart leapt at the word. Water. The very mention sparked a flood of memories—images of cool, flowing streams, of cleansing and renewal. I struggled to remember the last time I bathed, if I ever had. The thought filled me with a joy so pure it made my chest tighten and my eyes sparkle.
"A bath!" I whispered, barely daring to believe it.
"Don't shout," Nuk warned quietly, his eyes sharp. "We can't afford to draw attention—especially after what happened at the entrance."
I nodded quickly, biting back my excitement, afraid it might shatter the fragile calm.
"Hehe," I chuckled softly, unable to contain the happiness bubbling inside me. "I can finally have my first bath."
"What was that?" Nuk's voice snapped, making me freeze.
"Nothing," I said quickly, cheeks flushing from excitement.
I hurried to the back of the tent and dipped my hand into the barrel of water. The cold shocked me—a sharp, electric jolt that raced up my arm and settled deep in my bones. It was unfamiliar, startling—but also strangely invigorating. The surface of the water grew murky as I stirred it, dirt swirling away.
Nuk's footsteps came closer. "Hey! Why are you wasting a week's worth of water like that?"
"A week's worth?" I echoed, stunned.
"Don't answer a question with another question." His tone was firm but gentle. "I can't leave you alone for a second. Come here—I'll help you wash."
I tried to pull away, squirming. "No! Don't!"
"Don't give me that." Nuk caught my shoulders, steadying me. "Come here!"
Before I could run, he gently lowered me onto a chair beside the barrel. Grabbing a loofah, he splashed water over me and began scrubbing. The coldness of the water mixed with the rough scrubbing sent shivers down my spine, but beneath it, I felt a soothing warmth. Years of dirt and grime washed away, leaving me feeling lighter, almost reborn.
"How long has it been since you last bathed?" Nuk muttered in disbelief. "Never mind. Don't answer."
Slowly, warmth spread beneath his hands, flushing my skin a soft pink. When he rinsed me, his eyes softened with quiet satisfaction, watching me like I was fragile and precious.
He stepped back to the tent and returned with a small container. Dropping a dollop of fragrant soap onto the loofah, he handed it to me. The foam bubbled softly, releasing a gentle floral scent that drifted through the air like a soothing breeze.
"This smells amazing!" I said, breathing in deeply. The scent calmed my racing heart, wrapping around me like a comforting embrace.
"My sister made this," Nuk said quietly, his voice touched with warmth and a hint of sorrow. "She was the only one in our clan with the healing ability—the aurora."
I remembered the shimmering light I had seen from his sister's body, a glow that seemed almost otherworldly. "The aurora thing?"
"Yeah." Nuk's voice was distant, filled with loss. "She could heal wounds no one else could. That's why we had a shelter back then."
"Shelter?" The word felt heavy, laden with meaning I didn't yet understand. Maybe it was connected to the city Dia mentioned.
Nuk shook his head, as if trying to push away the weight of memory. "Why am I telling you this?"
I pressed on, curiosity burning bright. "Please... I want to understand."
Before I could say more, Nuk scrubbed harder with the loofah, making me gasp.
"Quiet now," he said with a half-smile, "or I'll scrub even harder."
"Hey! That's rough!" I winced as the sting lingered on my skin.
Tears welled up unexpectedly, blurring my vision. I didn't understand why—they felt strange, foreign. Was this sadness? Relief? Something new and overwhelming?
Caught in the moment, I turned and met Nuk's eyes.
"W-why did you turn around?" he stammered, suddenly uneasy.
Before I could answer, he gently pushed my head away and stood. "I'm done. Rinse yourself off."
As he walked away, I rubbed my nose, muttering under my breath, "Can't believe he just left."
He paused at the tent's entrance and glanced back, his voice softer this time. "Remember—only one bucket of water. No more."
Though his warnings about water felt strict, beneath his gruff exterior, I sensed care—an unspoken concern.
And then, just before disappearing into the tent, I caught a fleeting flicker—his ears twitched ever so slightly, a small but flustered gesture that left a warm, almost tickling feeling at the edge of my thoughts.
Like a family I never knew.
••••••••