Silence

Vertin's eyes twitched for a moment before slowly opening, a sign of her waking up. As her gaze scanned the room she was in, she saw that she was currently in a picturesque bedroom by herself.

Then, groggily, she sat up on the edge of the bed as the memories of what happened prior to her blacking out resurfaced in her mind.

"Schneider..." She mumbled, the memory still fresh on her mind. She had a forlorn look on her face, grieving the death of her friend.

She had hoped that she could provide help to her back in the Foundation, but her revelation near the end sent her to a state of shock. Once more, she had to witness someone close to her vanish in the Storm, never to be heard of nor seen again.

At the same time, it reminded her of a memory in the past. Those memories that still linger in her mind, and what she presumes to what had caused to black out.

Alone in that quaint bedroom, she silently grieved for a while, remembering her dear friend.

---

Closing the door behind her, Vertin left the bedroom. Currently, she wasn't wearing her hat, which was left behind in the room.

Walking down the hallway, her footsteps echoing, she made her way to the lobby. Along the way, the scent of breakfast was picked up by her nose, indicating that someone was cooking.

Once she arrived, she saw the banquet from last night disappear. The tables, plates, as well as the various items that the refugees left behind have been promptly cleaned and stored away — now, the lobby looks exactly as it had been before.

"Vertin, you're awake."

Seeing her walk in, Druvis, who was attending a plotted plant, greeted her. Looking at the forlorn figure of Vertin, she asked her gently. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm doing alright. Thank you for asking, Ms. Druvis." Walking over to Druvis, Vertin answered succinctly. She then posed a question. "What happened last night after I... passed out?"

Druvis nodded and spoke slowly. "After you blacked out, the Storm continued on for a few more hours. Outside, the world rapidly dissolved and changed, reversing in another era. But since we were all in your suitcase, we were spared from the Storm's effects."

"While you were asleep, Isaac was the one who had taken charge. After the Storm subsided, he requested X to contact the Foundation for immediate retrieval and assigned each of us a specific task until you woke up."

Druvis then gestured to a door connected to the lobby and continued. "Sonetto and I were to tend this place and look out after you, while Regulus and Mr. APPLe scouted the Wilderness to see any abnormalities after the Storm. X and Isaac, on the other hand, both left the suitcase this morning to assess the situation outside and contact the Foundation."

"I see... I have to thank Mr. Isaac later for his help in this regard." Vertin sighed softly. However, she then noticed something off about what Druvis said. "Hold on, what about Sotheby? You haven't mentioned her."

At the mention of the young lady, Druvis got silent for a few moments before shaking her head, as if she too was unsure of what was happening to her. "Ms. Sotheby is... still in her room. Isaac told us to just let her be for the time being and let her process what's happening on her own, but she still hasn't left."

She paused for a moment before adding a few sentiments from herself. "Truth be told, I agree with him. There are certain matters that can only be resolved on your own, and not everyone can recover from grieving in the same way."

The way Druvis spoke had a hint of retrospection in it; as if she was speaking from experience.

Hearing this, Vertin's brows slightly furrowed. "But what if what she needs right now is the voice of others? To tell her that everything's going to be alright? We can't just leave her like that."

From what Vertin knew, Sotheby was a lively and social person. She was the kind to express herself openly and won't outright shut herself off from everyone.

"I'm going to talk to her." Turning around, Vertin walked back to the hallway. She simply could not let her friend — especially someone as young as Sotheby — wallow in pain by herself like this.

Walking in the hallway, Vertin searched for a while until she eventually found Sotheby's room.

Knocking gently on the door, she called out her name. "Sotheby, are you awake?"

There was silence for a few moments before a faint voice broke it, reaching her ears. "I am... Ms. Vertin, what are you doing here?"

The voice sounded faint, but she could discern the brittleness of it. The usual touch of innocence and joy was nowhere to be found, only replaced by a forlorn voice.

"Sotheby, may I come in?" She asked, wanting to see the state of her friend.

Sotheby remained silent for a moment or so before giving out her response. "Alright... Just one second."

The door got unlocked and soon slowly swung open, revealing the figure behind it.

There, Sotheby appeared sorrowful. Her face was crestfallen and she wasn't smiling — unlike her usual, lively self. Looking at Vertin, the young lady lingered for a bit before speaking. "Come in, Ms. Vertin..."

"Okay." Gently nodding her head, she walked inside.

Walking over to the edge of her bed, Sotheby looked at Vertin, her voice gentle and faint. "What do you want to discuss?"

"Sotheby... Are you doing fine with everything?"

Sotheby didn't reply immediately. She merely smiled faintly before shaking her head, her voice trying to sound better. "I'm doing just fine, Ms. Vertin. It's just that I'm still trying to adjust to it all."

Vertin didn't believed it.

By all accounts, Sotheby was still a child. What she was currently happening was not something someone like her should be experiencing — losing someone close to you, time reversing, and grieving alone.

But even then the young lady still conjured a faint smile to Vertin, as if trying not to worry her.

Vertin stayed silent for a while before sighing. Then, walking over to Sotheby's side, she sat down on the bed.

Speaking with a gentle and caressing voice, she spoke. "You shouldn't be bottling all of those emotions inside of you, Sotheby. You need to let them all out or else they'll just dampen you."

Sotheby tried to retort but she suddenly found her voice becoming tremulous, unable to speak clearly. "But Mr. Karson, he..."

"...he's gone..."

Following her words, Sotheby's eyes soon turned moist as her vision became distorted, tears welling up in her eyes.

Vertin narrowed her eyes, lingering for a moment, before deciding to extend her hand and hugging Sotheby's side. In that gentle embrace, she spoke.

"He was someone important to you, Sotheby, and I know he held the same sentiments towards you." She said, trying to offer words of consolation.

Vertin's arm around her was steady — like a lighthouse in a storm. Sotheby didn't resist. She leaned into the touch, hesitant at first, but leaned fully as her body began to quietly tremble.

Through the muffled sobs against her shoulder, Vertin continued, her voice a low murmur. "It's alright to cry. You don't need to carry this alone."

Sotheby clutched Vertin's coat. "Mr. Karson had always been there... But now... He's no longer there..."

"I won't ever get to see him again..."

Vertin didn't answer right away. Her eyes stared past the room's walls, to something — someone — who was now gone. Indeed, she was also grieving — having lost a friend recently too.

Then, almost in a whisper, she continued. "I know the feeling. I also lost someone last night and I'm sad about it too, that's why I understand what you're feeling right now."

Sotheby sniffled, her sobs softening into small, ragged breaths. Vertin smoothed a hand over her hair, her expression unreadable — but not cold.

"Sometimes, we lose people important to us unexpectedly and would want the world to return them back to us." Her voice caught for just a moment, so briefly it could be missed. "But it won't."

A silence followed, heavy with memory, as she remembered that time back in the Foundation in the past — during her first Storm — when she first experienced grief and regret. And then, she continued.

"But the memory they shared with us — who they were when they stood beside us — that won't ever disappear. Not even now, or for as long as we live."

Sotheby blinked up at her through teary lashes. "But it hurts so much..."

Vertin gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. "It does. And it will... but only for a while — and it's okay for it to hurt. Because that pain means Mr. Karson mattered to you."

She gently tilted the young lady's chin up, making it so that their eyes met. Looking at Vertin, Sotheby saw her gaze was steady, but soft.

"You're not alone in this, Sotheby. I know what it's like to lose people close to us and feel the world slip out from under you — so I'm not going to let you fall. Now now or ever.

Her words weren't dramatic nor were they flowery. But they rang true in a way only those who knew grief could understand.

Sotheby nodded quietly, burying herself once more into Vertin's side. Then, with tears streaming down, she muttered in a low voice. "Thank you, Vertin..."

Caressing the young lady's head, Vertin consoled her and gently replied. "It's alright now, Sotheby..."

Soon, only the quiet, muffled sobbing rang in the silence.

Bottling emotions is never a good thing.