Characters: Dakota and Anna (played by br.)
Content Warnings: None
Location: Amber's All-In-One Grocery
Anna and Mika were childhood best friends from when Mika first moved to New Portsmouth until Anna moved away to go to college. Anna has come back to New Portsmouth following a series of misfortunes, but Mika never left. They'd completely lost contact for years.
Mika and Anna run into each other after a decade of silence. The meeting is as awkward as you would expect.
Anna is browsing the shelves… She trails her fingers along boxes of cereal… She isn’t looking where she’s going, so she doesn’t see the flash of white hair– Oof. Anna stumbles backward, automatic apologies leaving her. “Sorry, are you– Sorry–”
Mika has known for years now that these few months will be hectic and full of interactions she’d rather avoid. But she follows fate like a stupid hound, faithfully going where it places her.
Much to Mika’s chagrin, she got the date, time, and location right. She didn’t even mean to look at the same type of cereal, though. It just happened. As things like these always do.
She flinches her hand back as if burnt, immediately looking up at Anna with big eyes. Little has changed sind they last saw each other over ten years ago. Mika looks older now, worn down with age. But she dresses the same and her hair is the same and even her glasses are the same.
She says nothing and waits for Anna’s reaction instead.
Anna’s breath catches. Mika looks like a person out of time. Older, but still so familiar. She stares at Mika, who’s watching her back. Her expression flickers from apology, to shock, to guilt– Only Mika would know though, from how slight Anna’s expressions are.
“Mika… I…” *You never came to find her, all these years later. “…It’s been a long time. You look well.” Which is what you say when you see an old friend, but is it the right thing to say to Mika? No, but Anna doesn’t know what is right in this situation. She doesn’t know how to navigate this tangle of warmth and nostalgia and guilt.
Objectively, Mika doesn’t look particularly well. She never really recovered from the bout of childhood illnesses that debilitated her, and it shows. Her skin is pale and paper thin–easy to see the veins below.
She pulls out her tablet, with text already written on the screen.
hi anna. A soft indicator of something and an answer of sorts. Yes she always knew Anna was coming back and yes she was upset regardless.
No, Mika doesn’t look well. Anna looks her over with a quietly gentle expression. “Hello, Mika…” The text was already written, Mika already knew.
Anna laces her fingers together, looking for something to occupy her hands. “…I apologize, I meant to reach out earlier. I just…” What excuses are even worth saying…? “This has all been unexpected. Unplanned. How… have you been?”
It’s painfully awkward. Mika already wants to run away, but she doesn’t know what would happen if she did. Nor if she stays. The uncertainty makes her uncomfortable. As does talking to someone she was previously upset at, however long ago it was.
hi, she writes. That’s the fourth greeting slash pleasantry they’ve exchanged. She doesn’t know what else to say (rather, she doesn’t want to say anything).
Anna planned to leave for years before she left. Mika tried to be a good friend and let her go without protest.
i watched a kelpie kill someone yesterday. The decades-old tactic of jumping straight into uncomfortability.
Anna looks exceedingly soppy. “I…” She remembers being on one of the search teams two months ago, seeing a kelpie up close. Seeing the bodies they found. She nods slowly. “I’m sorry… It’s awful to see. I… am glad that you’re safe.”
Anna had to leave, Mika had to know that. Right? She wouldn’t have survived here, smothered and burdened with a family name, a dead name. She wasn’t the only one who left. But Anna was the one who had always been there for Mika. From their first meeting, to walking Mika home from school, to arguing with bullies on her behalf…
And then Anna left.
“Alix has protection charms. For the kelpies. Do you have one?”
She’s begun hating it when people look at her like that. She’s not sure when it happened, but she hates it now.
She will be safe (as far as she knows, for now). Anna’s pleasantries mean nothing. It was a bad icebreaker. Mika hates this. She hates the guilt and the pity despite wanting it for so long.
She shakes her head. Writes.
parents and i just got back from boat expedition. She hasn’t seen people in a while.
“Oh…” Anna hesitates. She’s still clearly off-balance– To Mika, at least. Her expression is neutral to an outside eye, she seems perfectly calm. “I can get you one.”
… The awkwardness is stifling. “How are your parents?” It’s the next thing she can think to ask, grasping for the easy conversation they used to have.
It sucks to know people so well, Mika thinks. She almost never notices the nuances in people’s expressions–it’s weird to see that Anna’s little habits haven’t changed. She doesn’t like it.
Her parents..Mika resists the urge to cringe (not because of them but because the change of subject. Small talk. Painful. Why are they doing this?)
same as always. good. Doing their own thing and mostly unfazed by the kelpies as far as Mika can tell. working.
Anna pauses. “I’m sorry, I can.. I apologize if I… I might be rusty.” She switches to signing, mortified that she’d made Mika type like this. That’s good. …
Why are you doing this, Anna?
I missed you. I’m… She hesitates again, thinking. Finally she settles on, I’m sorry. I’ve been having a strange few months.
She blinks in surprise. She’d decided to go back to writing for Anna–after all, it’s been so long, and languages get lost over time if they’re unused. But she understands Anna’s signing well enough.
She puts away her writing utensils, back in her tote bag.
i know, Mika signs back, even though she doesn’t. There’s no way to tell either way.
Neither of them ever reached out to each other. Maybe it’s Mika’s fault too, that she let Anna go and decided to erase traces of their friendship together instead of making an effort to preserve it through the distance. How justified is anger when it hurts the other person too?
horses– (is there a sign for kelpies? if there is, Mika doesn’t know it.) came sooner than i thought. A pause.
you did too.
A look of quiet grief overtakes Anna at Mika’s words. Her hands tremble finely as she signs, I was always going to end up back here eventually, wasn’t I?
What’s the use in trying to escape it? She’s been deluding herself. It was so easy to forget who she was here, the burden of responsibility.
I’m sorry for leaving you alone.
Mika allows a small, pitying smile of resignation, for just one moment. It’s hard, knowing so much and watching people carry on with their lives with hope of something she knows they can’t achieve. Anna was always one of those examples. She kept quiet, and when it was time for Anna to go, she made no effort to hold her back.
it was unstoppable. An answer to both of her statements. are you well?
It was unstoppable. Nothing to be done. Anna was walking in circles this whole time, deluded. How could Mika have let her…? Why didn’t she ever say anything? Anna’s never asked Mika about her seizures. She’s never asked what she sees.
I… She starts… No, not really. It never stops feeling humiliating to admit. It’s hard living at home again.
Fate is unpredictable–but not unmovable. Mika has watched people wreck apart the fabric of reality to change things–big and small. She allows everyone around her to do as they may and tries not to intervene.
What she’s found is that the harder someone tries to escape fate, the deeper they end submerged in it.
i know, and she doesn’t, but she always says this. They’re different people–the Levasseur’s home is a safe haven for Mika as much as the Petrikov’s home must feel like a stifling prison.
no way to move out?
… My family wouldn’t like it. Anna’s ears burn as she replies. Imagine it, being in her thirties and being scared of what her family thinks.
The flow of conversation is becoming easier, Anna is relaxing minutely.
It’s not that bad… I’m lucky to have a family to go back to. Aren’t you, Anna? Aren’t you blessed?
…….yikes. It’s funny. Mika wonders sometimes–is this how she’d be too if her birth parents had lived? Anna has always looked so resigned when talking about them, even now, decades later.
It’s not often Mika gets to feel lucky about the hand she’s been dealt in life. She feels bad it’s at the expense of her friend.
you’re allowed to dislike it, you know.
Anna inspects her hands carefully, struggling to look at Mika. She has always been like this on the subject of her family: Resignedly filial. The fact that she ever actually moved away against their wishes was an earth-shattering shock to everyone.
It would be nice to live on my own again, she allows. Weighing her words, even with one of her most trusted confidants. Do you ever think about moving out?
Mika nods, empathetic. Has the sense to not question Anna as to why she can’t right now. She knew she’d return eventually, but not the circumstances. She’ll pry…later, probably.
sometimes. The older she gets, the more she grows tired of living in the same apartment with her parents, who still see her as far younger than she actually is. i still can’t live on my own. medically. i’ve sort of given up on it.
How childish Anna is, bemoaning her self-imposed lack of freedom when Mika is more tied to her family home than Anna ever will be. She looks abashed.
I see… A pause. I’m sure there are options— Sorry. You’ve probably thought of this already.
Here they both are, then. It’s good that Mika’s parents are the way they are. Affectionate, supportive.
You should come over. My mother will be happy, she likes you and Parva more than Niko.
Her mouth twitches slightly into a tired almost-smile.
She doesn’t mind. Mika knows well enough they’re both bound to New Portsmouth, for one reason or another. And…well…she could make the effort to leave, if she wanted. But she’s scared of the unknown and the dangerous. Knowing will do that to you.
She’s well on her way to signing an of course she– when she pauses, blinking, her hands halted mid-sign.
have you seen him recently?
Anna’s ears slowly redden again. She’s having trouble looking at Mika. We’ve been talking… Vaguely. He’s back too. We exchanged numbers…
Why is she so embarrassed? Well, it is a little embarrassing admitting that you’re friends with someone whose guts you used to hate, right? The hypocrisy and all… Right…
Have you talked to her? She’s been in town as long as I have, about…
Mika’s usually stoic expression immediately turns into one of astonishment and perhaps offence?? Her jaw falls open.
Anna talked to Niko before her ????? You CONTACT Niko before Mika??? You CONTACT Niko before Mika like betrayer???
what what what what what Signing over and over.
We’ve… been getting along better than we used to… Shyly, completely misinterpreting Mika’s reaction!!!
We’re just friends…
Mika’s hands pause their movement and she steps back to stare at Anna with a mixture of disappointment and something else in her eyes. There should be no point in voicing out old grievances–it’s been over a decade now and they are both well into adulthood.
…….Mika just doesn’t have a lot of friends, that’s all.
It’s easy to see her indecision before she finally settles on an extremely vague and dissatisfying ok that leaves practically everything to the imagination.
i never changed my number. You never called.
Guilt stops her bashfulness cold. It’s plain how her expression stiffens, grows haunted.
She’s silent for a minute. There’s no way to explain herself to Mika that sounds… good. She can’t even find the words when she doesn’t have to say them aloud.
I’m sorry, is all she says finally. I should have reached out. It’s inadequate, and Anna knows it.
I didn’t really talk to anyone after I left. Family at holidays. Parva, when we both lived in New York.
And again Mika curses how well she knows Anna. Ignorance always makes conversations like these easier because she doesn’t care much for the outcome.
She says she didn’t talk to anyone much but yet again Mika wonders why Parvaneh gets included there and she doesn’t. Is Anna ashamed of her? Ashamed that she never left town, that she willfully stayed with her parents?
Mika hates being upset. It shows, too, because few things upset her. She gets all jittery. Moves faster, lets her eyes dart around like a mad hare’s.
it’s ok. Is it? Should it not be for any normal adult? But Mika is not normal. Anna has known this since the day we met.
we’ll have time. She’s not really sure if she means it as an insult or a promise.
She’s upset Mika. The weight on her increases, makes her shoulders bow slightly. She hates herself for clamming up, for being unable to spit it out. Either way, whether she stays silent or admits it, she hurts Mika.
We will have time, she agrees. Mika always knew Anna was coming back. She knows that Anna will be here, wings clipped. Maybe this is part of Anna’s penance for leaving. Look the people you left behind in the eye and flay yourself open for them, beg for forgiveness.
Like I said… You should come over. I’ve been writing some music I’d like to show you, and we can catch up…
Mika wishes she could be upset in a more peaceful manner, but she has never been too good at feeling negative emotions. It’s part of her ailments, you see–she’s so used to being prepared for stuff that when they take her by surprise she falls apart.
And she should be diplomatic.
But instead of being kind or nice or gentle or all of the things she’s praised for being, she says:
i’ll think about it.
A small tremor runs through Anna, which is about the equivalent of her flinching as if slapped. She looks openly wounded, unable to school her expression in the face of someone she knows so well.
She looks away, unable to handle Mika’s gaze right now. Okay, is all she says. Accepting. If this is her penance, what else can she do?
I’ll text you. You have my number, when you decide…
She feels bad. Of course she does. She’s not used to navigating arguments at all, and equally as unused to being properly angry. With her parents she always made it clear–ever since childhood, but with people her age?
It’s hard. Is it cruel that she hurt Anna on purpose, like this? She doesn’t know. She wants to shrivel into herself. Her hand movements are sharper and less fluid than they are in the middle of conversation.
ok.
She has little else to say to Anna and no desire for the pleasantries that would typically follow. So she looks up to give her a small nod and proceeds to tail it out of the grocery store aisle, preventing any chance she has of adding a statement in.
arc continued in nostalgia simulacrum!