"—when suddenly I was jumped. It was the gang of a kid three years older than me named Six. His mother—"
That was the last thing Nephis heard before the screen turned off, meaning that her thirty minutes had finished.
No! No! No! Please, I want to hear the ending! Nephis thought with alarm, standing up abruptly. Her chair fell backwards, hitting the floor with a sound that echoed through the empty house. She had been eating a sandwich while listening to the story. It was rare for Sunny to talk about his past, so Nephis absorbed the tale furiously, wrapped up by the description of a younger Sunny using unforeseen circumstances to make a profit that would bring him a step closer to finding his sister.
Nephis had let out a small laugh when Sunny mentioned that he thought the parents of that girl would sell her to a pervert, amused at the idea of such an unlikely thing happening. But then Nephis thought about what she truly knew about the outskirts. About the environment where Sunny was raised, and her laugh gradually died as she came to the realization that she knew nothing about the outskirts.
Of course, she wasn't completely clueless; Nephis knew the basic stuff, like that the people who lived there were poor and their living conditions were not the best, but could someone truly sell their children? Surely that was not possible.
Looking at the girl and what she was wearing, my first thought was that her parents were going to sell her to some kind of pervert! Sunny's words rang in her mind. Nephis felt a weight drop to her stomach.
Sunny never lies. If he truly believed those parents would— A cold feeling took over Nephis's body, making her hands sweat and shake slightly.
"What has he lived through?" Nephis said in a small, trembling voice. She could not think about this further because the story continued with Sunny explaining how he infiltrated the crowd of children. Nephis decided that she would do a search later to learn more about the outskirts and continued to listen to the story.
Sunny had a way of telling stories that lifted Nephis's mood a little bit, but in the back of her mind, a question still remained, no matter how much her mood was lifted: What had he lived through?
Eventually, her thirty minutes were up, and Nephis was left wondering how the story ended. She had stood up in frustration at not knowing how Sunny had fared in that fight. Of course, she knew that the story would end with him being alive, but still, her chest started to hurt as if her heart had contracted to pump blood and had stayed like that, never completing the cardiac cycle.
It was a gang against one. Against him. Nephis's eyes started to water; she knew this was just a memory, but her mind started to imagine Sunny being beaten by multiple other, much bigger, better-fed kids. She imagined Sunny bleeding on the floor of a forgotten alleyway, his clothes torn from the struggle he had put up. Nephis imagined the body of a black-haired boy shivering on the floor because of the cold, and that's when she broke.
Letting out a pained cry, Nephis bent over, grabbing fiercely at her chest. Tears ran freely across her face, and her breath had started to become erratic. Nephis feared that she was suffering another panic attack, but that fear was only second to a single thought.
"I need to see him! I need to know he's alive!" Nephis shouted to herself, her mind relentlessly creating images of a hurt Sunny.
"Princess, are you okay?" A voice came from one of the entrances to the dining hall.
Without realizing it, Nephis had started pacing the room, repeatedly shouting those two sentences over and over. For that reason, she had not noticed that someone else had entered her home.
Turning her still-crying eyes, Nephis saw a blurry image near the door that was getting closer. The figure reached her and grabbed her arm. Now that she was closer, Nephis could see that it was Effie. Her face, which normally wore an easy smile, was now contorted with concern.
"Princess, what's wrong?" Effie said, alarmed. She looked around, searching for a clue as to what could have made Nephis fall into this state.
Nephis tried to move away from Effie but was unable to. Nephis's breathing started to grow more erratic, and the sensation of needles started to spread across her hands.
"I need to—I need to see him," Nephis gasped. The words were thin, barely escaping her throat. She fought to back away, but the world was tilting.
"Who? Nephis, tell me, who!" Effie said, her face a mask of anguish. Nephis's breathing grew strained. Effie's unwanted, restraining touch was making it difficult for Nephis to breathe. Bars. That's what Effie's touch felt like.
I'M TRAPPED! I CAN'T MOVE! SUNNY! I CAN'T GET TO SUNNY! Nephis was mentally screaming.
"Le—let me—LET ME GO!" Nephis shrieked. She clawed at Effie's fingers, her movements frantic and uncoordinated.
Effie recoiled, her hands flying up in surrender. But even with the contact broken, the cage remained. The walls were still too close; the ceiling was too low. Nephis began to pace, her bare feet striking the floor in a jagged, hollow rhythm, while Effie followed in her wheelchair, her demands for an explanation blurring into a wall of meaningless noise.
Nephis was a blur of motion, her feet scuffing the floor as she circled the small dining area. Her breath was coming in sharp, wet hitches. Effie could only watch, clenching her fists. Helpless.
On her third pass, her hip clipped the corner of the table, jarring a small, silk-wrapped bundle from the surface.
It tumbled to the floor, the fabric unfurling just enough to reveal a dark, messy coil of hair.
Effie's eyes narrowed, and a moment later, her body froze. She looked from the floor to Nephis, then back again. Even in the middle of a crisis, Effie's brain did the math. She knew that texture. She knew that exact shade of midnight black.
"Is that..." Effie started, her brow furrowing in genuine confusion. "Wait, did you scalp him?"
Nephis didn't answer. She couldn't. She had collapsed against the wall, her hands clawing at her own throat as if trying to pry it open.
BLOOD! DEAD! ALLEYWAY! HE'S GOING TO DIE! I NEED TO REACH HIM! Nephis's nails dug deep into the soft skin of her neck, dragging downward until thin lines of red began to bead and smear. She didn't feel the sting; the screams were too loud.
Effie sighed, a mixture of pity and a "we'll-talk-about-this-later" look creeping into her expression. She maneuvered her wheelchair forward, ignoring the blood for a second to scoop the lock of hair off the floor with two fingers. She held it out like a peace offering.
"Hey. Princess. Look at me." Effie's voice was lower now, steady. "I don't know why you have a piece of Sunny in your pocket like a serial killer, but he's right here. Sort of."
She gently pried Nephis's hands away from her throat and pressed the lock of hair into her trembling palm.
The physical contact with the hair did its job. Nephis's fingers instinctively curled around it. The texture was familiar—slightly coarse, smelling faintly of coffee and the distinct, sharp scent of Sunny's skin.
Nephis pressed her hand to her face, breathing in. The sharp, metallic scent of panic began to recede, replaced by that one familiar anchor. Her heart, which had been racing at a hundred miles an hour, slowed to a heavy, dragging rhythm. The "cage" didn't disappear, but the bars were not as suffocating.
Effie saw Nephis's body sag and let out a breath. Nothing was said; only the sound of Nephis's slowly calming breaths and the occasional rustle of Sunny's lock of hair could be heard.
Effie watched her, her arms crossed over her chest. She looked at the way Nephis clung to the hair—not like a memento, but like a life preserver.
"Okay," Effie said, her voice dry but not unkind. "So, I never knew you guys liked each other that much. I mean, I suspected that you two had a thing, but a trophy like that? That is objectively weird. Even for you, Neffie."
Nephis didn't look up. Her eyes were shut tight, her forehead resting against her knees, her fist still clenched white-knuckled around the stolen lock of hair.
"I really miss him, Effie," she whispered, her voice cracked and raw.
"And your first thought was to grab the scissors?" Effie shook her head, a small, tired smirk tugging at her lips. "Whatever works, I guess."
Nephis reached out a hand, her head still pressed to her knees. Without a second thought, Effie took it. "Thank you," Nephis's voice came out small and tired. Effie only squeezed lightly—a silent affirmation."
Hours passed in this comfortable but emotionally charged silence. Many times Nephis made the effort to stand, but her legs would not follow her will. Effie would have loved to help her, but with her broken body, the only thing she could do was hold Nephis's hand.
Eventually, Effie decided that some conversation might help. "So…" Nephis's eyes turned slowly towards Effie. They were red and puffy. "When did you start collecting hair?" Effie asked, a small, teasing smile forming on her face.
Nephis's face turned slightly red, and she hid herself between her knees. Even with most of her face hidden from view, Effie could still see the tips of her ears, which had turned a slight shade of crimson. Minutes passed in silence; Effie started to believe that she might have judged wrong and that Nephis would not answer.
"A couple of weeks ago." Effie had to bend a little forward to be able to listen to Nephis's muffled voice. "It was after the Firekeepers started reporting being followed," Nephis's quiet voice continued. She had turned her head towards Effie, which was a relief, since now Effie could lean back in her chair and not be sitting on top of her stomach, as it was bad for digestion.
"I used to visit him constantly, but now—" Nephis's voice broke, and a tear slipped out, running down her bare leg and hitting the floor. Effie silently clenched her fists at the sight of Nephis's tear and her unspoken words. She had visited the doofus occasionally since her return, but it was true that after the Firekeepers' report of suspicious activity, everyone had been hunkered down in their homes or were only moving in groups.
"At some point, it became unbearable." Effie came out of her thoughts at the sound of whispering. Focusing back on Nephis, Effie saw her slowly lowering herself to the ground while clutching the lock of hair close to her chest. "I don't know how to explain it, Eff. I just needed to see him, and when I couldn't—" Nephis closed her eyes, the lock of hair resting gently under her nose.
"You gave him a mohawk," Effie said, letting out a sigh. Nephis opened her eyes briefly and looked at her before she shut them again. "I didn't take that much," Nephis's whisper reached Effie a moment later.
On Effie's face, a small smile formed, and she let out an amused breath. "If you need him that much, why don't you just bring him here?" Effie whispered to herself while shaking her head. Nephis turned her head quickly, looking up at Effie with big, wide eyes.
"No, hold up. I didn't mean it seriously," Effie quickly said, regretting her tendency to say every thought out loud. Nephis's posture loosened slightly, but Effie could see that she still wanted to talk about that idea. "Let it go, Neph. We can't bring him here. Not with how things are between you and the clans." Effie straightened and tried to use her stern voice in hopes of dissuading further discussion of the topic.
Nephis narrowed her eyes at Effie, a feline smile on her face, but after a moment, she looked away. Effie was glad that the topic was not discussed further, since it's not like she could physically stop Nephis if she decided to follow through on her idea.
A moment passed where there was only silence, until the shuffling of Nephis sitting upright interrupted the quiet. "So, Effie, why did you come?" Nephis's voice came out steadily, with only a slight hint of her previous screams in her voice.
Effie smiled widely and adjusted herself in her wheelchair. "What do you mean, why? Don't you remember, Princess? Today's the movie!"