Awaking with a fresh mind the next morning, Zye decides one thing and one thing only. He wants to leave this area. The memories in the apartment are bad enough. In a pair of worn-out sneakers, jeans ripped at the knees, and a green tank-top later he’s packing up the rest of his things.

It’s not hard considering he doesn’t have much. There was no time considering how hard he was working. The little things he does have are easy to settle in around various clothes. Of which, he begins throwing older clothes into a garbage bag.

The only thing he doesn’t want to do is go into Lyra’s room. Despite that, he knows he has to sometime and the little he’s already done won’t cut it. It takes quite a bit to even open the door to her room much less step inside of it. His hand stills on the doorknob, gently rocking it on the hinges.

Each movement has the coin dangling from his wrist swaying. An already comfortable weight on his wrist. It acts like the pendulum swinging back and forth between his thoughts. To go in or to not. He knows she doesn’t have many things that were sentimental to her— not a lot he’d keep.

Yet that thought alone has his gut-wrenching. He could vomit right then and there. That all that’ll be left is an armful of things. Nothing more.

Zye pinches his eyes shut before finally releasing the doorknob. His fingers were starting to hurt from how hard he was gripping it anyway. Each step further into the room is agonizing so he starts small.

The bathroom and bedding are easy projects compared to the rest of her things. There are only a couple blankets he wishes to keep. Not that they’re even in the room, they’re ones he’s already touted to his room after admitting her into the hospital. The memory of that day tries to keep up but he squashes it down.

Seeing her lying on the floor helpless and unconscious probably took a good ten years off his life.

Zye sits on the naked bed, the sheets having been stripped off and thrown in a bag, and sighs. His gaze sweeps the room. It’s hard to deny the fact that he’s already begun to take the things he wants from here. Everything from the scarce jewelry she got from his father to the little bit of paperwork she’s saved over the years.

“What a load of crap…” Falling backward, he bounces slightly as he lies there. The ceiling is just as cruel as the walls. Neither offer any comfort. “Shit…I hate this.”

The phone he has latched onto his belt loop buzzes. He wants to ignore it. Although he knows it won’t do any good either. There are only two people it could be and both will bust their way into the apartment. Not that he wants to deal with anything at the moment.

Zye glares at the ceiling before shoving himself up. Grabbing the device and flicking the screen open. The little cord it’s attached to stretches out until he can’t tug it further. The transparent light seems to solidify as he flicks through the menus. A quick reply to Shae has him realizing he could get this over with today.

At least, most of it.

The screen vanishes, the device is snapped back to his waistband thanks to the cord, and Zye stands up. He has no desire to hurry. A knock to the door urges him nonetheless. “I’m coming, hold your horses.” Another few knocks echo throughout the otherwise silent apartment.

Zye opens the door and shakes his head at Shae. The blond grins and pockets his keys. “’Bout time. I got great news!” He lets himself in as Zye steps to the side then locks back up. “So I talked to Boss, told her what happened. She said you can take your time, we’ve got you covered till you want to get working.”

“Sooner rather than later. The drive is annoying.”

Shae shoves his hands into his pockets, rocking on his feet from heel to toe then vice versa. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve already started condensing and packing. If I work through it all day I can have most of it done.”

“Okay, so where did you leave off?”

Zye’s gaze cuts away. “I’m cleaning out Mom’s room. All the stuff I want to keep I’ve already packed up with some of mine. Everything else I thought I’d just give away.”

Shae yanks his hands out of his pockets then claps them together. “Got it! Leave it to me. Boxes or bags?”

“Bags, they’re in there already. There’s some bags you can put stuff in that can be given away with it all.”

The blond is already striding off to the hall. He gives a thumbs up over his shoulder. “Don’t worry. I got this.”

Zye watches him go. He can hear the rustles of movement and the sound of drawers opening. He tries to tune it out while occupying himself with another task. It’s not easy in any sense of the word. Within the first half-hour, he’s already got a headache pounding through his temples and between his eyes.

Regardless, over the next four hours, they work hard to get the apartment packed up. Lyra’s room is completely empty save for the sacks of clothes and such or the boxes of knick-knacks. His own room is taken care of and the kitchen is empty save for what’s in the fridge.

All that’s left to do is get rid of what’s in it, contact someone to pick everything up and get the hell out of here with what is going with him. The two men take the last load down to the truck. It’s full of a couple sacks of clothes, a few suitcases holding his more precious items, and a box of miscellaneous shoes and belts. The only thing he’s left in the apartment is what he doesn’t want to take.

Shae jostles the rear door closed and leans against it. “I’m glad you’re not me. I have so much more shit.”

“That’s because you have a problem, hoarder.”

“I don’t hoard! I collect.”

“Sure, whatever you say. I won’t push it since you’re the one driving.”

Zye is already heaving the passenger door open and climbing in when Shae remembers something. He grabs the door before Zye can close it, holding it so he can steady himself. “What about that box you left with that old man at the front?”

“It’s for a friend.”

“You left a friend all those games and stuff?”

“Yes?”

Shae raises a brow at this, clearly not convinced. “A friend you have fucked or haven’t?”

“Dear God, Shae. Of course, I haven’t! He’s a kid. Now get in the damn truck before I—” He glances over Shae’s shoulder just in time to see a familiar trail of green hair. He doesn’t warn Shae, it’d be too easy.

Two hands come up and clap onto Shae’s shoulders. “Hey there, Shae!”

“Ah!” Shae spins around, trying to keep the shout from turning into a high-pitched shriek. “Gah— Callua? Wh—What are you doing?! You can’t just sneak up on a guy like that!”

Callua can’t hold in her laughter. Her hands retreat from Shae to hold onto her stomach, doubling over as she succumbs to the giggling that shakes her frame. In the truck, Zye has his hand over his mouth and head turned to the side. He doesn’t want Shae to see him laughing. Not that he does, he’s too busy spinning around to glare daggers at Callua.

“Seriously! What’s wrong with you? I almost peed my damn pants!”

Zye snorts and wrestles the door free, letting it close. “Shae, you’re being loud.”

He spins back around to see Zye settling into the truck, one foot coming up to press against the glove box that hangs open. “Hey, hey, hey! Feet off, I don’t know where those shoes have been.”

“I can’t make it any dirtier. I don’t know where your truck has been.”

Callua, still chuckling to herself, comes back up behind Shae. She nudges against him— shoulder bumping against shoulder. “He’s got a point. It’s definitely not a carriage for a princess.”

Shae takes a deep breath to calm himself. Although the crimson searing over his cheeks tells a different story. “I’ll kill you both, don’t think I won’t.”

Zye relaxes in the worn seat, enjoying the breeze coming in through the open window. He’s glad Shae forgot to roll it up otherwise he’d have had to leave the door open. He drags a hand up through bangs that are starting to wilt against his forehead. “I can’t cook you dinner if I’m dead.”

“Fair point. But you—!” Shae spins around to face Callua. “—you are something else. Convince me not to kill you.”

Callua, now fully recovered from her laughing fit, gives a hum of thought. “Well…that’s a little more difficult.”

“Imagine that,” interjects Zye.

“Don’t make me climb through that window,” she replies with pursed lips. Callua then extends a hand to Shae. “I’ll buy us a fun night; drinks, food, and you pick the entertainment. I’m good at all kinds of games and horror movies are my favorite.”

Shae’s eyes light up at that. “Finally! Zye won’t watch them with me so you got a deal.”

They shake on it with stupid grins on their faces. The scene has Zye shaking his head and tapping the heel of a sneaker against the dash. “Dork one and two, break it up.”

Letting go of her hand, Shae jogs around to the other side of the truck and climbs in. It allows Callua to stride up to the door Zye leans against. His arm rests comfortably on the gap where the glass will come up from. The corners of her lips lift as she places her hands on his arm.

“Sorry I’m late though, was going to swing through earlier.”

“It’s fine. We got it all done anyway. Did you want to come with us?”

She gives a gentle shake of her head, sending the ponytail swinging behind her head. “No, no. I have to get to work. But next time for sure.”

“I’ll text you the address then. You’re always welcome.”

“Hey, Zye…man.” Shae leans over, he’s nearly sitting on the console between them. “That’s my line.” He cocks a smile at Callua. “You’re always welcome in our home.”

Zye rolls his eyes and pushes at Shae’s chest, forcing him back into the driver’s seat. Although it seems to do the trick seeing as Callua laughs. “You two are so stupid.” She leans forward through the open space and brings her face up against Zye’s, whispering into his ear. “And don’t worry, I’ll keep Daichi off your trail. Promise. Just let me handle this, okay?”

She pulls out and slaps her hand against the side of the truck. Except doing so makes her grimace. She wipes her hands together to try and get rid of the dirt streaking over her fingers. Even so, she gives a wave with the other a second later.

“Be safe! I’ll come see you two soon.”

Zye takes a moment, looking at her as she steps away so that Shae can turn the truck on and begin to pull out. It feels as though there’s a stone in his stomach and it’s sinking. While his shoulders feel lighter, he also feels sick. He’ll have to come back to finish up and get his bike.

However, for the most part, this section of his life is over. The future feels daunting and horrifying. He pulls himself away from the window as they leave Callua standing there— leaves the building in the distance. Settling into the seat, he worries the coin between his fingers.

Somehow the smoothness calms his nerves. Somehow it has him able to allow the inner storm to die down until another time. He tries with all of his being to listen to what Shae prattles off; who is new working at Ruby’s Light, who is still there, how they can work their schedules to match.