Bowling

The town's usual stillness seemed to ripple as Tagitsa stepped forward, his emerald eyes scanning the empty street before him. The woman followed closely behind, her amber eyes glinting with curiosity. "So," she said lightly, "do I just wish really hard for it to appear? Or does the mighty guide have to snap his fingers?"

Tagitsa paused, his gaze shifting to her for a brief moment. Without responding, he closed his eyes, his mind focusing on her earlier request. The air grew heavy, and the town's quiet seemed to hold its breath. A faint shimmer began to form in the distance, its edges growing sharper and brighter until it solidified.

Before them stood a retro-style bowling alley, its neon sign flickering to life. The polished lanes stretched into the distance, and the faint sound of pins clattering echoed softly from within. The muted hum of fluorescent lights spilled onto the street, giving the scene an eerie yet oddly inviting glow.

The woman's face lit up with genuine excitement as she stepped inside. She spun around, taking in the details—the gleaming wooden lanes, the racks of bowling balls in vibrant colors, and the worn leather seats by the scoring tables. "You even got the smell right," she said, inhaling deeply. "Oil, waxed floors, and a hint of stale popcorn. Perfect."

Tagitsa remained by the entrance, his expression unreadable as he observed her. Most souls came to Purgatory seeking solace or answers, yet this one exuded an infectious energy that filled the space. He couldn't tell if it was genuine or another layer to her mystery.

She walked over to the rack of bowling balls, running her fingers along their smooth surfaces before selecting a bright pink one. "This one feels lucky," she said, grinning.

The woman stepped up to the lane, gripping the ball with a mix of determination and excitement. Her stance was less than perfect, her feet awkwardly placed, but she rolled the ball with enthusiasm. It veered slightly to the side but managed to knock down five pins. She threw her hands up in mock celebration. "Not bad for being dead, huh?"

Tagitsa watched her in silence, his hands loosely folded in front of him. Her energy was unusual for someone in Purgatory, her warmth and joy seeming to seep into the bowling alley's lifeless atmosphere.

"Your turn," she called over her shoulder, her voice teasing. "Unless you're afraid of being shown up."

He stepped forward, his movements deliberate and composed. Tagitsa studied the rack of balls briefly before selecting a plain black one. His emerald eyes focused on the lane as he positioned himself with precision.

With a fluid motion, he sent the ball rolling down the lane. It moved in a perfect line, striking the pins with a loud crack. All ten fell instantly, scattering across the back of the lane.

The woman clapped her hands, her laughter echoing in the empty space. "Of course you'd be good at this," she said, her tone playful. "Let me guess—you've been secretly practicing for centuries?"

"I've never bowled before," Tagitsa replied evenly, setting the ball back onto the rack.

Her laughter faded slightly as she tilted her head, studying him. "You're full of surprises, you know that?" she said softly, though the teasing edge in her voice remained.

The game continued, her turns filled with enthusiasm and occasional triumphs, while his were executed with methodical precision. She made no effort to hide her delight each time she knocked down a pin, her laughter ringing through the alley like a melody.

Tagitsa remained stoic, though he caught himself watching her more closely. Her energy was undeniable, her joy almost infectious. And yet, there was a lingering shadow behind her bright eyes, a weight she seemed determined to hide beneath her cheerfulness.

As she stepped up for another turn, she glanced back at him and grinned. "You're not half bad at this, you know. But you could try having a little fun."

"I'm here to guide," Tagitsa replied, his tone calm but firm. "Fun is irrelevant."

Her grin widened. "Then maybe you're guiding me wrong," she teased, rolling her ball down the lane. It wobbled but managed to knock over seven pins. She turned back to him, triumphant. "See? Progress."

Tagitsa didn't respond, but his emerald eyes lingered on her for a moment longer than necessary. There was something disarming about her—the way she seemed to belong here, the ease with which she filled the space. He couldn't shake the faint flicker of recognition, like a half-forgotten dream clawing at the edges of his memory.

As they reset the pins for another round, the woman leaned against the ball return, her expression softening slightly. "You know," she said, her voice quieter, "sometimes it's the little things that stay with you. A game, a laugh… they mean more than you think."

Tagitsa's gaze remained steady, though her words stirred something deep within him. He didn't respond, allowing the silence to stretch between them as the faint sound of pins clattering filled the space.

The soft clatter of pins and the hum of the bowling alley lights filled the air, but it was her laughter that truly broke the stillness. It was warm and unrestrained, a sound that seemed to defy the solemn quiet of Purgatory. The woman twirled slightly as she celebrated another decent roll, her auburn hair catching the neon light as she turned to face Tagitsa.

"Seven pins!" she said triumphantly, pointing at the scoreboard. "That's what? Three more than you thought I'd get?"

Tagitsa stood at the edge of the lane, his arms folded as he watched her. "It's an improvement," he said evenly, his tone giving nothing away.

She grinned, walking back to the ball return. "You could at least pretend to be impressed. You're making me do all the emotional heavy lifting here."

The game continued, her laughter weaving through the air as she alternated between teasing him and offering exaggerated commentary on her own performance. "I think this might be my secret talent," she said after another modest roll, her tone light and playful. "In another life, I could've been a professional."

Tagitsa didn't respond immediately, watching as she carefully lined up another shot. Her energy filled the space, making it feel alive in a way that caught him off guard. The bowling alley—like everything in Purgatory—was an extension of himself, shaped by his will. Yet in her presence, it felt less like a creation and more like something real.

"You're quiet again," she said, glancing over her shoulder as she adjusted her grip on the ball. "Doesn't this place have rules against being boring?"

"There are no rules in Purgatory," Tagitsa replied, his tone calm.

She rolled her eyes dramatically, sending the ball down the lane. It veered slightly to the side, knocking over five pins. "No rules, huh? Then maybe you should try smiling. Just once. You know, for research."

Tagitsa's expression didn't change, but her comment lingered in his mind longer than he expected. He observed her as she picked up another ball, her movements light and unburdened, her laughter soft but genuine. It wasn't forced or strained—just natural, as though she'd forgotten where she was.

For centuries, Tagitsa had watched souls arrive in Purgatory, their emotions raw and their burdens heavy. This woman, however, carried herself differently. Her warmth felt out of place, like a patch of sunlight in the middle of a storm. Yet it wasn't just her demeanor that unsettled him—it was the faint stirrings of something he couldn't name, something that felt both foreign and familiar.

She turned to him after another roll, leaning against the ball return with an exaggerated sigh. "You're really not going to crack, are you?" she teased, though her amber eyes softened as they met his. "You're like stone. Polished and sharp but… untouchable."

Tagitsa's emerald eyes narrowed slightly, not in anger but in thought. Her words, like her presence, carried an odd weight that felt deliberately placed. "Why does it matter to you?" he asked, his voice steady.

She smiled faintly, her fingers brushing over the smooth surface of a bowling ball. "Maybe it doesn't," she said lightly. Then, after a pause, she added, "But maybe it should."

There was something about her tone that made him pause. Her playful warmth gave way to a quiet sincerity, and for a moment, the bowling alley seemed to still. She looked down at the ball in her hands, her expression distant. "It's strange, isn't it?" she murmured, almost to herself. "How much something small can mean when everything else is gone."

Tagitsa didn't respond immediately, but her words lingered. He had heard countless confessions, regrets, and laments in Purgatory. Yet her statement carried an emotional weight he couldn't ignore. It wasn't just an observation—it was a fragment of something deeper, something tied to her.

"You've been here a short time," Tagitsa said finally, his tone measured. "And yet, you speak as though you've already made peace."

She glanced up at him, her smile returning but softer now. "Maybe I'm just good at pretending," she said with a small shrug. "Or maybe I know more than I let on."

Her words unsettled him, though he didn't show it. Instead, he turned his gaze toward the lane, watching the faint reflections of the neon lights ripple across the polished floor. "You will need to confront your regret eventually," he said. "Pretending won't help you pass on."

Her laugh was soft this time, almost wistful. "I know," she said simply. "But sometimes pretending is the only thing that keeps you going."

She stepped up to the lane again, the conversation drifting into the background as she rolled another ball. Tagitsa remained silent, but her presence lingered in his mind, her warmth leaving a mark he couldn't ignore.

As the pins clattered, her voice echoed softly in the still air: "Maybe you're pretending too."

The rhythmic clatter of bowling pins filled the alley, accompanied by Autumn's carefree laughter. Her joy was unrestrained, each smile and chuckle echoing through the space and breaking the stillness of Purgatory. She stepped back from the lane, her auburn hair catching the light as she threw her arms up in mock triumph.

"Eight pins!" she declared, spinning to face Tagitsa, who stood silently by the ball return. "You're witnessing greatness, you know. History in the making."

Tagitsa's expression remained impassive as he glanced at the scoreboard. "You missed two," he replied evenly, his tone devoid of any humor.

Autumn placed her hands on her hips, her amber eyes narrowing playfully. "You could at least pretend to be impressed," she teased, tossing her ball onto the return rack. "Come on, not even a little cheer? A tiny clap? Nothing?"

Her teasing rolled off Tagitsa like water off stone. He stepped forward, selecting a plain black bowling ball and positioning himself at the lane with precise movements. With a smooth release, the ball rolled straight and true, striking the pins with a loud crash. All ten scattered.

Autumn let out a groan of exaggerated defeat, slumping dramatically against the ball return. "Of course," she muttered. "You'd be the guy who gets a strike every time. No room for error, no fun, just… perfection."

Tagitsa returned to his spot without a word, his calm demeanor unshaken.

She watched him closely, her playful smirk softening slightly. "You know," she said, leaning against the ball rack, "you might be a little less terrifying if you smiled. Just once. For the team."

Tagitsa glanced at her, his emerald eyes unreadable. "Smiling is unnecessary," he replied.

Autumn gasped, feigning shock. "Unnecessary?!" she exclaimed. "Smiling is the universal language of fun! Haven't you ever had fun before?"

"I am here to guide souls, not to entertain them," Tagitsa replied, his tone steady but with the faintest edge of exasperation.

Autumn let out a dramatic sigh, shaking her head. "That's tragic," she said, her tone light but carrying a hint of sincerity. "You're missing out on the best part of… well, everything."

She stepped up to the lane again, her posture loose and relaxed. With a playful spin, she sent the ball rolling down the lane. It wobbled slightly but managed to knock over seven pins. Autumn turned back to Tagitsa with a wide grin, throwing her hands up.

"See? Progress!" she said, her laughter ringing out again. "Next time, it'll be a strike, and then you'll have to admit I'm amazing."

Tagitsa didn't respond, though his gaze lingered on her longer than usual. Her energy was infectious, her presence filling the space in a way he hadn't anticipated. For centuries, Purgatory had been a place of silence, stillness, and regret. But now, as her laughter echoed through the bowling alley, it felt… alive.