Chapter Text
- So please! Please! Help me find her!
The guard keeps the rough expression. He presses his fingers against his eyes. He looks at Umi from up to bottom. He is unsure how to continue. He then just says;
- You are really telling me that’s your connection to this, “disappeared” woman?
Umi is genuinely anxious;
- She also came to visit my apartment on the night of that day!
- Right. Well. - He gets up from his chair. - We will look for anyone that matches the face you described. We will contact you if we find anything.
- Is that it?!? Won’t you look at the data to find her?
- Listen, we can’t start a search for someone just because you said you saw her one day. We have to see if this face is in our “disappeared” list.
- Didn’t you see my messages?!? She literally only texted me on that day and then her number went missing too!
- That’s not enough evidence.
- HOW IS IT NOT?!?
Everyone at the police station stares at her. Umi decides to not press any further. As she is about to leave, the guard say out loud;
- We will try to see if the face matches with anyone around here. And once again; don’t invade private property trying to find someone. We don’t need sleep-deprivate students causing trouble.
Umi doesn’t bother looking at him. When she leaves that place, she thinks to herself;
(I have to go there one more time…)
It has been one week since she met Liz. When she tried to explain at college what happened, everyone assumed she was just inventing excuses for sleeping when the bus passed.
- Sure, I have lied before to excuse myself for getting late, but I was being honest!
Now she stares at the bus stop where she met her. She decides to one more time see if anyone at the printing store knew her, but curiously, all the staff was new. Even though that shop was more than a decade old…
- Where did you go Liz?
Umi closes her eyes, and tries to recollect every memory about the last time the two were together.
*KNOCK* *KNOCK* *KNOCK*
(Urgh. What an annoying knock when I’m trying to sleep!)
Umi knows for certain who it’s, but still finds it hard to believe. She gets up on her bed and doesn’t even bother removing her Sonic eyes sleeping mask. She just feels her way through the room. It does help that she’s used to doing it. When she opens the door, that new but now familiar voice enters her ears.
- Hey Umi… I’m sorry, I know it’s late, but-
- I already told you, if you wanna sleep on my bed, just say it.
- That’s not it. The sofa is as soft as a ripe mango.
(That’s one way to say it’s a bit stiff.)
- So what is it then Liz?
- … I wanted to talk…
In disbelief, Umi speak a bit more rough;
- You woke me up just to talk?!?
Silence. Umi continues;
- Whatever. I’m not getting any sleep.
- Thanks bestie…
- Just, open up.
There’s a calm feeling in this room, as a gentle ray of moon light enters that space through the window curtain. Not that Umi would notice with her sleep mask. Now our girls are laying on the carpet at the center of Umi’s bedroom, laying down what’s at the center of Liz’s thoughts.
- I have been wondering what it means to be remembered…
- You are worried about something silly like how people think of you? Let me clarify it; when you are dead it won’t matter how people remember you.
- That’s another worry of mine, but it’s not what I meant… It’s more like, I have been thinking of what makes me want to be remembered. I don’t want people to be judging me. And with that I mean; I don’t want people constantly guessing who I truly am. But I really want them to think about what I went through, what I wanted to do and what I actually did before judging me.
- I see… Is that related to a fear of death?
- Yes. But also no. It’s more like just existing in any form. Life or death are not necessarily related.
- Okay… But why are you thinking that?
Liz focuses on that ray of light in the room. She then says;
- When I think of people’s memories, it’s not just in the legacy sense. Memories are a kind of power. People treat you differently depending on how their memories are about you but those same memories are also used to judge other, totally unrelated people. And before you know it, people have a standard without the first memory that made that standard to begin with. It’s like a dead memory that sticks to people’s memories like a virus.
- So you dislike how fast people judge others?
- Also yes, but that’s not what I was going for. Let me try to give you an example. When I broke up with my now ex, I didn’t want to talk with anyone who reminded me of her. I was classifying them as “like my ex”. It’s this “class” that I’m thinking about. Is this what it means to be remembered? People will take your public knowledge and apply to a previously invented group? And if that’s the case, should I be happy or sad that I enter in a “class” like a “noble person”. What memories decided what is a “noble person”? What exactly defined these loose sets of morals?
- That’s something… But why is that bothering you all of the sudden? Got interested in people’s social cognitive and decided you needed a random girl to talk about it? That’s kinda endearing.
- I wasn’t planning on saying all this to you from the start hahaha. Honestly, I didn’t plan anything at all! And as to why that is bothering me… I guess I just don’t want people trying to use my "archetype" so they can dismiss other people. And who knows, maybe I am other people too! So that would mean I’m not so arrogant about wanting to be liked…
Umi removes her sleeping mask and looks at Liz. She is with a hair cap to sleep and an adult-sized childish pajamas filled with small animals. She finds it cute actually, and says with a smile;
- You are very kind. In your unique, weird way, but very much kind. I don’t think you are arrogant for wanting to be liked. And all this “archytype” talk, I mean, I guess it’s kinda like how I tried to push you away cause I thought you were too innocent. But guess what? You didn’t fall into the stereotype I thought! Even if you fit a type of person in my head… But no, you acted in the way you felt. So sure, people can’t remember everything, but as long as they can connect to what you are feeling they can change the way they see you or whatever “class” you are thinking. I think, that’s what I can take from what you said. Yeah. Hold on to your kindness, that’s what makes you different in my eyes. Being different is what makes me keep going a lot of the time.
- Umi… - Liz makes a big beam and closes her eyes, a bit overwhelmed but truly happy. - I think you are the kind one here.
- Pffft. Don’t distort me. I am like Umiriss, you know?
- No?
A small moment of silence is broken off by a quiet laughter from both of them, so they don’t make too much noise late at night. When they stop, Umi, or rather the girl at the bus stop gazes the shape of that girl at her side, reflected by the moonlight, and says;
- Micaela.
Liz looks confused at her. Micaela reiterate;
- That’s my name. Heh. I just invented Umi so you wouldn’t know my real name.
- So… You, Micaela?
- Yep. That’s how everyone calls me…
- I see. Micaela. Micaela! It’s Micaela! It’s a cute name…
- … I can’t believe after that she said she preferred calling me “Umi”. So it would make her “different”! That rascal!
(... But I kinda liked that. I mean, being known for Umiriss? Now that’s a curse I’m glad to pick.)
Umi just stays there, on that street where she met Liz.
(When I woke up the next day she was gone. We exchanged some messages in that day but after that our messages history disappeared and I haven’t heard anything about her since. Everyone keep telling me she couldn’t have existed… That people don’t just disappear. One of my professors even said I was probably stressed and started hallucinating her. But I can’t have invented her. She was so real. But not in the sense that I knew someone like her where my mind could have projected. She was different, she was pretty, she was weird, she was kind… I can’t just let that kindness go away.)
The point where she’s standing suddenly gets really bright, but Umi doesn’t move. Instead she just closes her eyes very tightly.
(I want more people to meet her. I want to truly meet her myself! One day. Two if you count us playing online games… No, I truly met her. Doesn’t matter if our time was short. Yes, it’s usually a trap to assume who people are without truly knowing her, but I know her! I just have to see her again and confirm it.)
Then suddenly she second guess herself.
(Confirm it? She IS real! The tree’s branch was broken, I got late to class, I can so vividly remember her! How she looks. Who cares that I don’t know everything? I’m just saying she’s real. That’s it.)
That bright light goes away, and Micaela opens her eyes.
(She said she trusted me… She said I was kind. So, if she wants to be remembered and well liked, I can be the person to remember and like her. But it’s not enough to wait for someone you care about. If it’s possible to be together, then that’s how it should be… But how I can I be sure it’s possible? I literally don’t know how to reach her.)
Feeling a slight headache, she starts looking around again and sees something nostalgic dropped in the street… A small jarritos can.
(And to imagine… It was an accident on my part. But you tried to connect to me. And I didn’t appreciate it at first, but now I want to make it right… I want to find you again.)
Anguished, Micaela kicks the can, almost going to the road.
(No, I wasn’t kind to you.)
She turns around, and decides to pull a cigarette. But just as she opens her cigarette box, she feels something hitting her leg. Unsure of what struck her, she turns back to the road and sees it; the jarritos can. It’s like…
(Someone kicked it into my leg.)
With her eyes wide open, Umi looks around that street. A strange feeling enters her. She can’t see anyone, but it’s like she could see someone looking at her. She feels herself turn cold. But Umi responds by giving a big, intensively bright and warm smile.
- I will see you soon Liz.