Chapter 10

It's 10 p.m. Time for work. Time for her first day back since everything happened.

Ira stands in front of her dilapidated wardrobe, feeling better than she's felt…well ever. There's an unfamiliar perkiness in her chest—an optimism that wasn't there before. For once, things in her mind don't feel like they're spiralling. It's quiet up there. She feels that in reality, things just are the way they are. And that's okay.

She pulls on the first outfit she'd laid out for the week—black-on-black, naturally. A hoodie, fitted cargo pants, and beat-up sneakers. She runs a brush through her long, straight hair, tying it back loosely. She notes her appearance with pleasure now, those dark bags, those red eyes, that large nose — she is pleased with how she looks. 

How could I ever have been so cruel to myself? She wonders, remembering the harsh obsessions that used to haunt her each time she saw her reflection. Her mind reflects on this for a while as she continues to get ready for the day. 

Then it hits her.

My scooter. 

She'd left it on the beach. And then… what? Teleported? Phased? Glitched through reality? Whatever it was, it had brought her straight home—without her ride. Her stomach sinks.

"Fuck," she mutters aloud. She'll definitely be late for work.

It's definitely gone. Has to be. But then she feels it again—that tug. The same pull that told her to follow the fish. The one that led her into Hell.

It's telling her there's a chance it might be where she left it. That she should look, at the very least.

She throws on her coat and bolts down the stairs, taking them two at a time, rain already painting streaks on the glass front door. She bursts outside, heart pounding, not daring to expect anything, but still hoping. And then she sees it, it's just sitting there in the warm glow of the streetlamp, partially blocked by—

"Hey, Ira."

She freezes.

Cobalt.

He's leaning casually against the bike rack like he's been waiting for hours. Rain gently mists the soft curls of his dark chestnut hair. He's smiling at her with that crooked, charming grin—his lips parted just enough to show a row of perfectly white teeth. His skin glows faintly, like it's still lit by the cavern of Hell.

She struggles to breathe.

He's here. He's really here.

She hadn't let herself even imagine this—had forced the ache of his absence into some forgotten corner of her mind. Knew somehow that if she didn't, it would threaten to swallow her whole.

And now he's right in front of her. Again.

"It's good to see you again," he says, voice low. Trepidatious.

Her gaze falls to his mouth, she can't help it. His lips are full, flushed. Her eyes roam back to his eyes. Those dark indigo eyes.

"How did you get here?" she blurts. "I thought—I thought I'd never see you again."

"Aw, don't say that." Cobalt tilts his head. "You'd miss me too much."

She glares, but it's half-hearted.

"Anyway," he says, gesturing with his chin. "Weren't you looking for this?"

Her scooter.

Perfectly intact. Parked neatly at the rack like it had never left.

"You found it?" she exclaims. "How?"

"I looked."

"You looked?" Her voice rises. "Come on Cobalt. Seriously. How the fuck are you here right now?"

He shrugs. "Aren't you going late for work?"

"Oh, I'm not going to work. You're here."

"Oh, you're going to work."

"I'll be here when you get back. Do you have plans for breakfast after your shift?" He holds up her helmet, smirking.

She frowns, but she feels the tension slipping away, despite herself.

"Are you serious? How am I supposed to focus knowing that you're here?"

"Because as soon as you're done, I'll be there," He says. "Again," His eyes lock onto hers, "I'm not going anywhere."

He places her helmet into her arms. 

"Well? What do you say? Are you free later?"

Ira can't speak. She's feeling so much. She doesn't know what to say, where to start, so she just replies, "Yeah—I'm free."

"Great." He responds calmly. "I'll be here." 

And somehow, she knows that it's true.

He makes a gesture with his hand, unlocks her scooter and passes it to her. 

"Have a good shift."

And with that, she puts on her helmet, gets on her scooter, and heads toward Umami Hollow.

The wave of relief that crashes over her carries her all the way there.

———————————————————————————————————————

Inside Umami Hollow, the warm scent of broth and roasted sesame wraps around her like a blanket.

"J!" She calls to her friend from the doorway. "You're not going to believe what happened to me."

"Oooooh, tell me," J replies without missing a beat, eight slender arms flying across the kitchen space, assembling orders faster than humanly possible.

"It's a long story," Ira says, pulling her usual chair. "A really long one."

"I got time." Says J.

Ira chuckles. J quite literally never has enough time for anything.

"Does this mean you actually did something on your day off besides swim?" J teases. "I'm proud of you."

"Well… it did start with swimming."

J slides Ira a plate stacked high with roasted vegetables and a large salad.

Ira squints at the food. "Are you trying to tell me something?"

"You look pale. You need to eat more plants." J says matter-of-factly.

Ira picks up a cabbage leaf and makes a show of chomping into it. "Happy?"

"Getting there."

"Anyway," Ira starts, "So I was diving, and I saw this weird fish—"

A chime dings. Then another. And another. The order screen lights up, and won't stop.

"Shit," J breathes. "I'm sorry, Ira. It's chaos tonight. Can I hear the rest after?"

Ira nods, unphased.

"Of course. We've got time."

She finishes her meal quickly and stands up, already moving toward the counter.

"How can I help?"

J looks up briefly, offers a soft smile. "You just being here helps."

Ira snorts, "Sure." She swiftly walks behind the counter beside J, settling into a well-versed rhythm of making and packing the orders.

Working beside J grounds her. Her presence is like a tether—cool, steady, and clarifying.

The chaos doesn't feel so heavy when J's there.

And then it hits her. She's actually happy to be here.