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While Miss Pela did say that she recruited anyone she could to be a museum volunteer, Natasha didn’t expect that she would see Serval in the exhibition hall.
Natasha did her best to explain the trinkets from Underworld to the passing curious guests. It was when she caught Serval at the corner of her eyes, on the other side of a glass pane, taking photos with her fans and giving them free signs after she explained to them about the oil painting behind her. She looked like she was in her element when she enthused about machinery, and even more as one of the guests was asking questions about engineering.
She might have heard before that Serval had a workshop on Overworld, but Natasha never knew that she was actually an expert, and perhaps more than just 'expert'.
Just as the museum staff announced the shift change, Natasha knocked on a nearby glass pane to get Serval’s attention, not leaving her position in favor of the staffers. Serval whirled to her way, waving lightly. There might be a bigger heater inside the museum, but it didn’t stop Natasha from fogging the glass and writing something on the glass pane.
Tea? Natasha drew a cup and an accompanying bear face. Serval blushed, and quickly gave her a thumb up.
. . .
They both decided to hang around the break room, since eventually Natasha would also be covering the museum tour for the evening schedule, as the one who was supposed to fill the position was unable to come. Serval didn’t seem to mind about the change of plan, and they were still able to get the tea anyway from the vending machine there.
“Sorry about this, when I’m the one who asked you to tea.” Natasha offered an apologetic smile as she joined Serval on the bench.
“No, no! It’s okay, also it’s not your fault, Miss Natasha!” Serval added. “This is already nice.”
“Well, if you say so.”
Natasha opened her own tea bottle and Serval followed. The tea was warm, just like any bottled beverage you might get out of Belobog’s vending machine. Coffee was a bit of rare commodity nowadays, but it wasn’t like tea was any different—it’s just synonym to caffeine, but namely tannin. Arguably stronger, to some people. In the end, it was all alkaloids anyway, poisonous to some, beneficial to another.
“How do you find Overworld now, Miss Natasha?”
“Just Natasha is okay,” she interjected, her smile warm. “I was able to see my mom, but … yeah, it took a while to get used to being able to go up after ten years.”
Serval pursed her lips, she was afraid that she might be breaching an uncomfortable topic. She looked around, fishing for another topic. Usually she would be so talkative, but then she didn’t want to make a wrong impression.
“So, uhh, what do you think about the exhibit?”
“I see Miss Pela worked hard to get everyone in Belobog to participate as guides, also she made sure to include each and every trinket to display, portraying Overworld and Underworld equally,” Natasha commented. Serval thought about Pela, she should be running here and there as they speak, still managing the resources. “I was surprised that she’d like to have me as a guide.”
“Yeah, I didn’t think she’d go that far and recruit everyone, but it’s great!” Serval said. “That way, I get to talk with you again, Miss Natasha.”
Natasha looked at Serval in quiet for a brief moment, mouth open, as though she was considering what to say, but also baffled by Serval’s frankness. Natasha wasn’t an open book, but Serval could see something more behind her kind expression. A burden. Then something else more.
When Serval first introduced to the doctor who single-handedly catered to Underworld’s affair, Serval had an inkling that Natasha was not simply a ‘doctor’. Serval overheard Pela talking about Natasha’s resume, and how she was adopted by the well-known Harrower.
Then again, she didn’t need to pry too much. If Natasha didn’t want to talk about her past or her origin, then Serval wouldn’t say anything. Just like while she was a Landau but Natasha didn’t ask about her family.
“Me too,” Natasha said after a while. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you too, Miss Serval.”
“Just Serval, please.”
Natasha chuckled, “I see that we hung up on a similar habit.”
Serval laughed, “Now that you mention it.”
Yeah, they both laughed, they were trying too hard not to misstep on the conversation, and ended up becoming too polite.
“Do you have any favorite exhibit in the museum, Serval?”
Natasha asked first. Serval had finished half of her tea, then she bought some more as she talked about film roll and machines. Natasha was a listener, while she seemed to be adept on Belobog’s machinery enough that she could ask Serval a few good questions. They might be two experts on different subjects, but Natasha wasn’t one to pretend to be nice. Serval knew the distinction, and Natasha indeed knew the technology around mines in general.
It was easy to talk with her, like they have known each other since forever, and Serval had an inkling that she might be able to give her an objective point of view.
“... And there’s another spot in this museum that I liked.”
Natasha tilted her head in curiosity. “That is?”
Serval offered her hand, “Come, I’ll show you.”
Yeah, perhaps she would understand what she might feel … about a particular exhibit.
✼
The Culture Hall was quiet when they walked in. The projector still showed the history of Belobog before Stellaron, to the point when the Everlasting Winter came to a close. Glass cases preserving posters and papers from Qliphoth Fort’s archive displayed at the center of the room, then there were various sculptures made to replicate Fragmentum monsters.
They stopped before the portraits of Belobog’s past leader—Supreme Guardians from one era to another who had brought Belobog to survive with all of their might, then ended with a portrait displaying a blonde woman and her silver-haired daughter in her arms.
Serval faced the portrait with a sigh; she had passed this place more times than she could count and she had read the plaque over and over, and it was still surreal for her how everything ended just as how fast it began.
Natasha glanced at her once, Serval saw herself in Natasha’s eyes, of how she was overcome with emotion.
“Is she your friend?”
“Was.” Serval corrected her. “I knew her back when we’re still students with our ideals and freedom.”
Natasha walked closer to Serval, her hand steady on Serval’s shoulder. Serval didn’t ask for it, but somehow it just felt right.
“Do you think …” Serval wasn’t sure how to exactly put it. “Do you think she had done a good deed?”
The doctor squared her shoulders, “To Underworld people, the isolation was akin to a punishment,” Serval gritted her teeth. “But we would never know what our Supreme Guardian had shouldered all these years, what she must've sacrificed for greater good. So I can’t say in a perfect sense that she’s the one to blame.”
Serval sighed again, head hung low. She closed her eyes briefly, thinking of the day when she was ousted from Qliphoth Fort and her old friend no longer listening to her. Then, it was when she finally came to terms with her passing, smashing the guitar she had given her and letting go.
She might not have been there when she was gone. She might not have been there when things happened. She might never know the truth or the lies.
“It’s okay, Serval.” Natasha lowered her voice. Her grip was warming her shoulder, and their closeness was like a balm to her aching heart. “You can lean on me.”
“Thank you, Natasha, but I think I’ll be okay.” Serval swallowed. “She must’ve been … doing what she needed to do. For Belobog.”
“Mhm.”
They stayed there for a while, simply looking at the portrait, but now Serval felt her heart was lighter, and she returned Natasha’s gesture with a squeeze to her hand.
“Can you tell me about your friend, then?” Natasha then said. “I think we still have some of the break time left.”
Serval lifted her head, replying Natasha’s smile with a sheepish grin. “Sure. More tea?”
“More tea.”