Chapter 11: The Cloak of Night, Shared Silence, and a Hidden Observer
After documenting his experiences on his computer, every creak of the house, every voice in the hallway, made Joey flinch, his preference for keeping his secrets unknown making him hyper-aware.
He feared his fragile, new understanding would be shattered if discovered. The situation in his own home had become a new minefield for his anxiety. Thanks to his mother's unwavering insistence, Mai Sakurajima was now a temporary guest.
Clara, seeing Mai's polite composure but sensing the underlying vulnerability of someone clearly lost and without resources, simply wouldn't let her go out onto the street. "You're staying here until you sort things out, dear. We have a guest room, it's no bother at all."
For Joey, Mai's constant presence was a test of endurance. He locked himself in his room, lunch a torturous memory of forced interactions. He felt like a specimen under a microscope, not only to his family but to Mai's analytical and curious eyes.
Worry for Lyra and his mother's mention of possible "vigils" near the library consumed him.
He imagined Lyra, alone and scared, surrounded by a curious or, worse, hostile crowd—the kind of noisy, emotional situation he found deeply uncomfortable. The thought of her vulnerability was unbearable, stirring his protective instincts.
Dinner was an ordeal. His father, Roberto, complained about politics and the heat, oblivious to his son's internal storm. Leo, on the other hand, wouldn't stop talking about the "city's mysteries," as he now called the recent events.
"There's even a WhatsApp group planning to go 'elf hunting' tonight near the library," Leo commented excitedly, while devouring a plate of feijoada. "They say she only appears at night. It's going to be a great adventure!"
Joey choked on his juice. His tendency to worry exploded. "Vigils? At night? Leo, that's dangerous! What if this person, whoever she is, gets scared? What if she just wants to be left alone?" His voice came out louder and more passionate than he intended, surprising even himself.
Mai, who was eating with a quiet and restrained grace, looked up from her plate, a spark of interest in her previously neutral expression.
Roberto stared at him. "Since when do you care about this nonsense, Joey? And what's this about 'wanting to be left alone'? If there are strange people up to no good, let the police handle it."
"It's not nonsense, Dad!" Joey retorted, a rare wave of courage overcoming his deep-seated aversion to confrontation.
He felt a strong need to defend the oppressed, even if it meant challenging his father. "People... they might be lost, scared. They need help, not a shouting mob!"
A tense silence fell over the table. Clara looked from Joey to Roberto, apprehensive. Leo watched his brother with a newfound curiosity. Mai observed Joey, her face a mask of politeness, but her eyes registering his unexpected passion.
"Since when did you become the protector of the town's weirdos?" Roberto growled.
Joey flinched, his brief surge of courage draining away as quickly as it had come, the familiar fear of his father's anger resurfacing. "I just... think people should have more empathy," he muttered, lowering his eyes to his plate, retreating into himself.
The rest of the day passed in a blur of anxiety for Joey.
He knew he had to do something. He couldn't leave Lyra at the mercy of a crowd's morbid curiosity. The image of Lyra, with her frightened eyes and silent gratitude, was a more potent motivator than his fear, a testament to the connection he felt and his desire to protect her.
When night finally fell, bringing with it a slightly cooler air and the sound of crickets, Joey prepared himself.
He waited until his parents were engrossed in their soap opera in the living room and Leo had left, probably to meet his friends and, perhaps, join the "elf hunt." He also needed to make sure Mai wouldn't see him.
He heard her talking quietly with his mother in the kitchen before she retired to the guest room.
With his heart pounding wildly—a physical manifestation of the anxiety that making decisions alone always caused him—he put on a dark jacket, slipped a few extra cereal bars into his pocket, and furtively left the house, ensuring his actions remained unseen.
The streets at night had a different atmosphere. The shadows stretched long, the city noises seemed more distinct, and for Joey, whose need for security was paramount, every dark corner hid a potential threat. But he pressed on, his concern for Lyra outweighing, if only just barely, his social phobia.
As he crept down the street, another shadow detached itself from the Wheeler house. Mai Sakurajima, dressed in dark, practical clothes Clara had lent her, followed him at a safe distance.
Joey's strange behavior, his passionate outburst at dinner, and the talk of an "elf"... it was all too bizarre. Intrigued and sensing that the boy was the key to understanding the strange reality she found herself in, she decided to investigate for herself.
Moving unseen was a skill life in the spotlight had taught her well.
As he approached the library area, Joey noticed unusual activity. Small groups of young people, some with phones in hand, were whispering and pointing toward the dark alleys.
The "vigil" was real. Joey's stomach churned. He had to find Lyra before they did. He remembered the abandoned cinema, a dark and forgotten place. A perfect hideout.
With utmost caution, avoiding the curious groups, Joey circled the library and approached the back of the old cinema. The entrance Lyra had used—a creaky, half-open side door—was still there.
Taking a deep breath, a small ritual he used when trying to overcome his troubles, he slipped inside. The air was heavy, thick with dust and the smell of mildew and decay. The darkness was almost total.
"Lyra?" he whispered, his voice barely audible.
A small noise, a swift movement in the deeper shadows of the old auditorium. Joey froze. "It's me... Joey," he said. "I... brought more food."
Silence. Then, slowly, a silhouette emerged from the darkness of the stage. It was Lyra. Even in the gloom, her silvery hair seemed to catch what little light there was. She stared at him, her eyes large and wary.
Joey took a hesitant step toward her, pulling a cereal bar from his pocket and holding it out. "For you."
Lyra didn't move for a moment. Then, slowly, she descended from the stage and approached, taking the cereal bar with the same delicacy as the night before.
Her fingers brushed his for a brief second, and Joey felt a shiver, not of fear, but of a strange, undeniable connection.
She said nothing. Neither did he. No words could bridge the chasm between their worlds. But in that moment, words weren't necessary.
Lyra took a few steps back and sat on the dusty floor, leaning against one of the torn theater seats. She opened the cereal bar. Joey, feeling an impulse he couldn't explain but that felt right, slowly approached and sat down beside her, at a respectful distance.
And there they sat, in silence, for a long, long time. The only sound was their breathing and the distant noise of the city outside.
Hidden in the shadows of the entrance, Mai Sakurajima watched the scene, her heart beating a steady rhythm.
An elf. A real girl, with long, silvery hair and pointed ears, hiding in an abandoned cinema.
And Joey, the terrified boy who could barely make eye contact, was sitting beside her, offering her food, sharing a silence that was clearly an act of profound comfort and protection.
Her experience with "Adolescence Syndrome" had prepared her for the inexplicable, but this was on another level. She saw Lyra's vulnerability and Joey's pure, unadorned compassion.
This wasn't a game, it wasn't a delusion. It was real. And she, Mai Sakurajima, was here too, just as lost, but now, perhaps, not so alone in her strangeness.
She remained silent, a hidden observer, her world turned upside down once again, but with the sudden, shocking realization that she had stumbled into the epicenter of something much bigger than her own identity crisis.
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I'll be redoing the story. Many things will remain, some will change. I hope to count on your feedback to know if you're enjoying the story or want me to change anything. This is my first time creating a story, so I made several mistakes the first time around. I read one of the comments on the chapters and decided to redo the story to make it more pleasant for you all.
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