Two doors from the second floor’s stairs, Amara counts from outside before she climbs the stairs, bringing a reusable bag filled with vitamin drinks and groceries. It’s 7PM when Amara walks there, not too late for a sudden visit, while it also may come off as rude.

But again, there’s no time like today. Amara won’t know when she has another chance.

“... Khalida. Right. This is the place.” She checks the nameplate before pressing the bell.

Much to Amara’s surprise, Penelope is really eager when Amara voices her idea to visit Sara. She’s already listing things to buy when Amara assures her that she got it taken care of. Amara knows that she has this image of a rich lady coming from a renowned family, much like Fiona, but she never discloses that information to anybody, and only mentions it when it comes up.

Nobody answers. Amara waits for a moment before pressing the bell for the second time.

Just as she does, the door opens in a slow creak. “Is it … from the Guide Center?”

Sara looks different without her glasses. She wears her hair down, and she looks so … tired, with a dark circle below her eyes. She pulls up her cardigan, covering herself better from chills. 

Amara takes a step back unconsciously, thinking she is intruding, or Sara will push her away, telling her to just go away.

“... Miss Angkara?” she squints as she peers closer. Amara nods numbly. Perhaps Sara is so nearsighted that she can’t see clearly without her glasses. “What are you doing here …?”

Amara shows her reusable bag, “I was about to return your handkerchief and—” she feels a pang in her chest just to see Sara’s weary state. Her cheeks flush in deep crimson, and she struggles to keep herself standing, as she leans to the doorway for support. “—I’ll explain. You should go back to rest. I will make you something as an apology.”

Sara only blinks, though she doesn’t say no. She welcomes Amara to the small apartment, and she can’t help but notice how clean it is. Almost too clean. There’s even nothing on the low coffee table aside from a few blisters of medicine and a water jug! Does she even eat anything??  

Amara already makes a note of her surroundings out of the habit, specifically the kitchen where she drops her bag. High ceiling, wooden parquet floor, and sparsely furnished aside from the essentials. There’s nothing much on the wall aside from one accolade that likely came from Guide Center; no family photos, nothing.

Amara makes sure that Sara returns to her room—which is the only ‘room’ there aside from the washroom and open kitchen. The medium-sized bed occupies most of the room, then there’s another desk that faces the window, separated by a wardrobe.

Sara grabs her glasses, shooting a look at Amara who’s already keeping herself busy, sorting the groceries and turning toward the kitchen.

“Miss Angkara, you don’t have to-”

“Miss Khalida, please.” She thinks of easing the tension as she pulls her sleeve. “I’m not trying to poison you.”

“Should I … call the police?”

“No, no, I’m joking.” Amara quickly adds before misunderstanding spirals out of control. “I met with Miss Penelope and she said that you've been away since yesterday because you’re unwell, so I think maybe this will help.”

Sara doesn’t seem to have a lot of strength to emote and watches Amara from the sidelines, while pulling a blanket around herself. 

“You don’t seem to have a cold so maybe a stamina soup …” Amara mumbles to herself as she moves around, grabbing utensils, chopping garlic, pouring stock she brought to the pot. 

“You … can cook?”

“You can’t?”

Sara doesn’t answer. Amara is afraid that her suspicion may stand corrected that Sara doesn’t eat at all, for some time. 

The redhead can feel eyes looking at her while she cooks, though Sara doesn’t seem too thrilled to start any conversation. Amara takes the silence in stride, not wanting to make Sara uncomfortable.

Her special soup doesn’t take too long to prepare with easy ingredients she’s having, thankfully. Amara sets the big bowl on the coffee table, noticing the blisters of medicine—mostly energy boosters and similar medicines there, and an empty bottle of Restoration Potion beneath the table. 

She frowns. She’s not one to talk when she’s quite dependent on Restoration Potions to replace Guiding, but-

“Do you do this often when you’re too tired?”

“Mm? Yes.”

While at first reluctant, Sara joins Amara on the table. Amara scoops a bowl for Sara, and she eats slowly without looking at Amara’s way. They sit there on the floor, with Amara mostly prop her chin up, and across her, Sara looks only at the bowl.

“... It’s good.” Sara says after a while. Her glasses are a bit foggy from the steam. It brings a smile to Amara.

“I’m glad.” Amara says. She takes the handkerchief and puts it on the table, before she forgets what she’s here for. “Miss Penelope and Miss Shura say hi.”

“You’re … quite popular,” Sara sets down the bowl when she finishes.

“Not really, I’m only in talking terms to a few people,” Amara collects the bowl, taking it to the sink before Sara can stand up.

“And now that I’ve helped you to meal, I guess we’re even.” the redhead supplies. “Though … I think I’m indebted. I’ve heard that you’re the one who Guided me through that situation from that last defensive skirmish.”

Sara looks up, “Don’t think of … what I did as something so grand. I’m only doing my job as a Guide.”

They fall to another quiet, just the running water from the sink that fills the silence. Amara makes sure that she doesn’t leave any dirty equipment left out.

“You’re weird, Miss Angkara,” Sara suddenly says. Did Amara hear a scoff? Perhaps she did. “There’s no Espers who will bother with Guides, especially some kind with a hostile personality like me.”

Amara doesn’t turn as she answers, “Well, I’m from outside the Capital, so I may not be so accustomed with Capital’s ways,”

“Oh,” there is a pregnant pause before she follows up with: “I see.”

She somehow can tell that she is just like her, someone who won’t pry, even if the conversation may easily lead that way.

Amara has decided that this would be the last time she tries to be acquainted with Sara. She won’t be so amused if Amara insists that the debt must be paid, and this is already enough indication. Amara won’t want to disturb her, and not wanting Sara to be exposed to harm as someone proven to be able to Guide her.

Another good while passes with heavy air hanging around them, Amara takes it as a cue to take the exit stage left. She is still a bit worried, though she knows Sara can take care of herself. She had overstayed her welcome.

“I’ll take my leave, then.”

“Thank you … for the food, Miss Angkara.”

Sara sees her off, her blue eyes shine in a mix of expressions that Amara doesn’t dare to decipher as she turns and walks away.