When it came to sounds, seagulls were one of the more tolerable things in the city. Quir had never lived in a seaside city before, so observing the white birds flocking everywhere, searching and fighting for food, had quickly become her preferred way of wasting time away.

The room she was renting from Kiril was different from the one she had lived in at Nerion’s apartment. This one was small, tidy, and without soundproofing. It was without wires, hard drives and computer skeletons, too - there was a desk, a bed, some pillows and biology books.

Everything in this room belonged to her. It was a weird thought.

At times, such as today, she caught herself thinking about her scars and the town she had left behind, of woods and quaint little houses and the “almost everybody knows almost everybody”- atmosphere you only have in certain locations.

There was a cognitive dissonance when she thought that the city where she was from was bigger than the one she lived in now. Back then she had lived just outside the city, so the neighborhood had felt like a town instead of a city. Now she lived in a kind-of-busy area in an almost-acceptable neighborhood, so it felt like a city instead of a town.

The light of May filled the room. It hurt her eyes and made her heart beat just a little bit faster, but she was getting used to it. She would have to, eventually.

There were so many things she would have to do, eventually. One of them was a phone call or perhaps a message, something to explain why Nerion and Quir had suddenly uprooted their life and left behind the only two people who mattered to them.

You still haven’t said anything? I just told them it’s a job opportunity.

It was easy for Nerion to say. People knew not to ask more questions when Nerion had a certain tone of voice, and they left him alone. Quir didn’t have a certain tone of voice, and people knew they got more answers and context from her than from her brother. So far she had resigned herself to hiding behind brief messages citing Nerion’s job opportunities, but sooner or later she would have to explain everything.

Just thinking about explaining felt exhausting.

An alarm vibrated to life in her phone and startled her to grab her coat from the bed. It was time to go.

“Be good, now,” she said to Fenris as she laced her shoes. A brief wag of white tail was good enough affirmation.

Nerion had already texted a list on her phone. Energy drinks & TA coffee & food. Sometimes there were more items on the list, such as toilet paper or toothpaste, but Nerion's diet consisted mostly of energy drinks, coffee, and whatever Quir was cooking. The last part meant that they usually ate whatever the readymade meal selection was offering.

Just around the corner from Kiril’s apartment was a small store, open 24/7 and thus perfect for her visits. The owner was a chronically tired dwarf who seemed to recognize Quir by now. Sometimes Nerion called her over in the middle of the night, early in the morning or during the school day, and no matter what time, Quir had never seen anyone else behind the counter.

Being open around the clock also meant the store was frequented by local drunkard circles. At first having to walk past them whenever she entered or exited the store during daylight hours had frightened her, but not once had anyone harassed her. Maybe they were nice people.

Quir didn’t want to find out. Nerion trusted nobody, and that’s why she wasn’t allowed to, either. Talking to strangers was one of the more cardinal sins on Nerion’s list of “don’t do these things”.

Still, the fact that the people she saw most frequently were her brother (when he needed something), the store owner (when she needed to buy something) and Kiril (whenever both of them were at home at the same time) made her feel lonely. As she stepped out of the store, she saw a familiar drunken group of men past their middle-age already converging on a nearby bench.

Even they have friends.

Going to Nerion’s apartment meant first visiting the store, then crossing three blocks to get to the correct bus stop, then taking the bus and then crossing the park. In the winter the park was dark, frozen and abandoned, and Quir had always lingered in there to watch the stars or sit for a moment at the empty swings.

Now the snow had melted, and despite the cold weather and wet grass the park was populated by young people who sat in flocks or small groups, drinking, eating snacks or just hanging out. Quir walked past them quickly.

Everyone here knows someone. Even if they aren’t friends, they still know each other and hang out together.

It was a childish thing to be so jealous over, she knew it, and yet she couldn’t help herself. It had been almost two years since they had moved in here, and almost one year since Quir started living on her own so that Nerion could have space for his work and his relationship with Cail.

She didn’t have many memories of that first year. Just darkness, headache and a permeating feeling of terror.

As for the second year… what had she even been up to, until now? It was true that she preferred her own company when she wanted to rest, and that her part-time job and daily visits to Nerion left little time for extracurricular socializing. But she had been to school, at the very least.

That’s where most people socialized, or at least that had been the impression she had gotten.

For the whole year, her days had consisted of going to school and talking to no-one, dropping by Alais and the kennel to put in the work hours, visiting Nerion, and walking with Fenris. If Kiril was at home in the evenings, they sometimes chatted as well.

It was something, but it also felt hollow. Alais was nice, but he was an employer, not a friend. Nerion understood her without her having to explain, but he was family, not a friend. And Kiril…

Kiril was intriguing and charismatic. Kiril was layered with just enough mystery to make Quir realize that she was getting a glossed-over version of them, and just enough genuinity to make Quir understand they weren’t doing it on purpose.

Kiril was also good-looking, social, popular and successful. In a single, no uncertain term: Kiril was unattainable.

Quir was a spacecraft whose perilune was always too far for meaningful relationships. She was a creature without kith. In a single, no uncertain term that many at the University used about her: she was the Weirdo.

One more name came to her as she was climbing the stairs to the second floor, the face of a music major. Just like Kiril, Magpie walked around with an aura of secrecy - but where Kiril seemed to only varnish their words when the topics drifted to the past, Magpie seemed to walk around with something more current.

It made Quir think about her own secrets and how they had almost gotten her killed. When they had run into Magpie’s acquaintance, the look on his eyes was familiar to her - the look of an animal that realizes the cage door has snapped shut.

Then the look had waned from the ice blue, and Magpie had grinned and laughed just like always. The way he did it effortlessly and with the look of a man with a lot of practice made Quir feel concerned and restless. Like she wanted to help.

Don’t get involved in anything dangerous.

Nerion’s voice and the thought of his anger were all reasons not to get involved. They didn’t remove the concern she felt for someone who could become a friend.

“Hey,” she called out silently as she opened the apartment door. All she got for an answer was furious typing on the computer, then a groan and a sigh once she closed the door and took off her shoes.

“Took you long enough,” Nerion sighed from the living room and stretched backwards in his chair in a way that looked extremely precarious. “You got coffee?” Quir folded her coat on her arm and handed him the takeaway cup, before heading to the kitchen to unload the rest of the food items: today’s meal would be instant pasta.

The meal preparation passed in silence, and when Quir emerged from the kitchen with two plates, Nerion had opened a laptop for her.

“I’ll send you a file for some data entry,” he said as he accepted the plate. “It’s the same database as last time.” Quir nodded and got to work, alternating between eating and inserting values to a data sheet. The work was simple enough and allowed her time for her thoughts to wander.

“Hey,” she started nervously when Nerion leaned back in his chair, wearing a heavy frown from deadlines and insomnia. “Have you… talked to Conri or Iona recently?” Nerion turned to look at her over his shoulder. His eyes, murky greyish blue like hers, stared at her like two mirrors, evaluating, analyzing. Quir stared back until Nerion turned back to his screen and started to type.

“Not recently, no,” he replied. “Why?”

“I was just wondering,” she sighed. “How they are doing… and all that.” Nerion let out a small acknowledging sound, and for a moment he seemed to be lost in his thoughts, too.

They looked exactly the same, but when it came to personality, Nerion hid everything under a mirror-like exterior where Quir was unable to stop wearing her emotions on her sleeves. Only every now and then the mirror cracked.

“We’ll tell them everything, eventually,” he promised without looking at her. Quir nodded and turned her eyes back to the data sheet, pushing the empty plate to the side.

She would just have to be patient.