Chapter Two

  An Odd Feeling

  Nyxen’s eyes suddenly opened. He could still hear the strong beat of his heart. Then, after regaining the ability to think, he began to feel. His mouth tasted of iron and bitterness. His neck still hurt, but the pain was not real — it was as if he only remembered the pain, not felt it. He could still hear the creak of his bones and the clone’s question. Then he smirked and said,

  [Heh. Just a ridiculous dream. What was I so scared of?]

  Without wasting any extra thought, Nyxen stood up. A strange feeling sat in his chest as he started to move. He was late, but he could come up with plenty of reasons for his family. His family didn’t press him much about being a few hours late. Still, he always had a solution in his pocket.

  …

  Ten minutes later

  Nyxen reached the subway station. Woods surrounded the station and the air was humid. A light mist hung in the air — visible from a distance but not thick. This place always calmed Nyxen. He didn’t look for the reason; he only cared about the calm, not its cause.

  You could call this place the woodland subway. Everything around it was completely green. The station was very old and quiet, and the roof of the waiting area had developed cracks over time.

  The reason this place was quiet was that not many people came from the villages to the city of Sandra. Only those who worked in Sandra or sometimes had business in the city came. They didn’t usually come at six in the morning, and the busiest time for this subway was nine in the morning. At other times there were fewer than four people at the station.

  Nyxen was not from the city of Sandra. Every day he came from the village to the city for school and returned. His schedule was much heavier than other students’. He took the subway at six in the morning and returned by subway at four. Because he had to sleep enough to learn his lessons, his total study time was about four hours.

  Of course, more time had been lost today and he had to cut into his sleep a little. But this was something Nyxen had already thought through, so he read faster at school and at home to avoid falling into trouble.

  After waiting for a while, he rode the train through the dark and reached the next station. Then he walked from the station to home, which took him about a quarter of an hour.

  When he entered the house, his mother — feigning a little anger — asked why he was late. Nyxen had already thought about this on the train and on the walk. He said,

  [It was my turn to clean the classroom today. While I was cleaning the windows, my hand hit one of the flowerpots and I had to clean all the water and soil that had fallen on the floor. I was lucky the others had already left; otherwise I’d have to answer to the principal. Because of the delay I had to take the next train. Sorry.]

  Nyxen deliberately said something his mother couldn’t question. His mother also didn’t want him to get in trouble for breaking a pot and simply nodded in acceptance. She told the same story when his father came home. In any case there wasn’t a real problem, because the family did not place much importance on being a little late. But Nyxen wanted to be sure about everything.

  …

  After changing his clothes, Nyxen ate quickly and went to his studies.

  While studying, his mind kept drifting back to the conversation with his mother. As he was telling those ridiculous lies, a very strange feeling rose in him — one he had never felt before. But Nyxen thought he might be hallucinating or his mind was simply too preoccupied, so he let it pass.

  …

  Nyxen stretched and got up from his study desk. His room was simple and contained nothing but a wardrobe and a study table. He opened the wardrobe, spread his bedding on the floor, and lay down.

  He was thinking about sleep. He had read in some books that dreaming returns to the subconscious. But why should he think about his clone or such a question? He let it go, because he had had stupid dreams before. He laughed and fell asleep.

  The next morning was as usual — repetitive. Nyxen did not cross that hill again, but he drifted occasionally. This drifting had nothing to do with the dream that day. Before all this, Nyxen had another strange feeling.

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  He felt that he had a bad feeling toward others. The girl in class who forced her laughter. The teacher who always came fifteen minutes late and acted as if it didn’t matter and even sighed from exhaustion. The loud noise in class. The tiredness from the commute. The family’s indifference.

  But all of these things were normal. He didn’t know why he felt this way. He ignored it and suppressed the strange feeling. Still, the feeling remained; these thoughts had been with him for years. He only either passed them by or suppressed them. He knew that if he dwelled on them, the feelings would grow.

  Nyxen read his lessons quickly today to have extra time. Of course, that extra time was for one person.

  Wearing his uniform — a black suit and white shirt — Nyxen went to a special place. His black dress shoes clicked as he walked. It wasn’t that he cared about his appearance; the only thing he did was push his hair back with his hand as usual. The breeze made his hair dance, and that made him attractive to others.

  He went to a small wooden café on the outskirts of the village. The café was small and surrounded by trees and green plants. The smell of coffee and chocolate could be sensed a hundred meters away, and the warm yellow light of the café lit the yard. A few meters away, a girl waved at Nyxen.

  He went up to the girl and said, “You weren’t waiting long, were you?”

  The girl replied in a pleasant voice, “No... no, not really.”

  “Hmm. Let me grab a coffee. Want one, Lethe?”

  Lethe shook her head like a child.

  She was of average height — maybe 175 cm — but she seemed smaller next to Nyxen. Her hair was black, with a reddish tint visible in the light. Her face was narrow and beautiful; her complexion was like white chalk and her lips a soft red. Her eyes were a mix of yellow and green. She wore a black-and-gray coat that covered her completely. This outfit made her appear older than her peers. A black scarf was wrapped around her neck.

  Nyxen continued, “You don’t want one? Don’t be afraid — it’s not expensive.”

  Lethe declined and then said, “No, really, thanks. I won’t have any. And you shouldn’t have any at this hour either; you won’t sleep at night.”

  Nyxen knew that, but he wanted a coffee for the mood and the weather. He didn’t insist.

  Lethe was his oldest friend. You could even call her a close companion, since they had been in contact for two years without any real disagreement. But the relationship was ordinary, not romantic — especially for Lethe, who was very introverted. Nyxen was more so.

  They began to walk. The breeze blew and both of their hair danced in the wind. Nyxen immediately started the conversation: “Yesterday I knocked over a flowerpot in class.”

  Lethe gave a brief look of surprise, then laughed and said, “What?? …Why? What were you doing?”

  Nyxen interrupted her: “Yeah, I know. It’s just that the flowerpot was in a bad spot. They had it placed by the window, so I didn’t notice it could get knocked.”

  Nyxen smirked inwardly. He really had nothing to start the conversation with, so he wanted to fix his lie — a lie that mattered neither to him nor to anyone else.

  Lethe paused a little and continued, “So what did you do after that?”

  Nyxen couldn’t hide his indifference properly. He looked around and didn’t really listen to the question.

  Lethe partly hid her mouth in her scarf.

  Then, as if she had asked something meaningless, she quickly added, “What have you been doing these days? I finished knitting this scarf. After that… after that I came out with you.”

  Nyxen had great skill in reading others’ behavior — both innate and from information. But he usually passed it by because… because he himself didn’t know why. Still, sometimes unconsciously and unintentionally he analyzed people when it was needed. He realized Lethe didn’t know what to talk about. The fact that she had managed two years like this required patience. Imagine going out with someone who has almost nothing to talk about; even if there is something, if it is repetitive the conversation becomes numb and lifeless.

  Nyxen didn’t want to upset Lethe and said, “It’s the hill by my school — you know which one I mean?”

  Lethe quickly nodded and said, “Hm. Yes. Why?”

  Nyxen looked at the sky and continued, “The other day I passed by it and found an interesting spot. A really interesting place.”

  “Like what kind of place?” she asked.

  Nyxen didn’t answer for now. The two of them stopped at a small bridge. Then Nyxen continued, “Maybe I should show you. I can’t explain it properly — I might make it less interesting.”

  He glanced at his watch and lingered on it.

  Seeing Nyxen look at his watch, Lethe said, “I think that’s enough for today. You seem a little tired. Next time… show me then.”

  Nyxen was a little taken aback. He had expected Lethe to refuse, but he hid his surprise, nodded, and they said goodbye.

  …

  Nyxen arrived home and had finished his lessons. He usually went to bed at nine, but now it was about seven, so he opened the wardrobe and took a book. The title read: Mind Reading.

  The book wasn’t very good, but it wasn’t bad, and one could read people to some extent with it. Nyxen could understand it better based on his previous experiences.

  Nyxen deliberately looked at his watch and stretched the few seconds. Lethe, who noticed he was looking at the time and that the conversation had grown boring, wanted to end the talk. It wasn’t that Nyxen had predicted all this, but it was fair to say he wanted to end the discussion and achieved his goal. In fact, he needed the time to read that book. Otherwise he could have chatted with Lethe until morning, but then it would all have been a lie.

  After that he ate dinner and, before sleep, thought. Again, when he had tried to encourage Lethe to end the conversation — exactly the moment when Nyxen had played the role of not caring about Lethe’s troubles or not listening to the question — the same strange feeling came over him. The same feeling he had when he lied to his mother.

  Nyxen ignored it again and slept. But he knew he could not hold that suppression for long.