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Caitlyn looked around her and felt nausea settle in her stomach, that burning sensation invading every part of her body. Her tense muscles seemed to be screaming for a break inside her, and that feeling of tiredness behind her eyes only seemed to exacerbate the migraine that seemed to want to explode in her head. She ran her hand over her face as she tried to push back the strands of hair that were sticking to her forehead under her beret due to the sweat that beaded on her forehead and seemed to have dampened her entire body, causing the shirt under her jacket and the fabric of her underwear to stick to her in various places, making her extremely uncomfortable. She grabbed the beret and roughly pulled it off her head, throwing it nowhere near her. She had aimed for any spot on the ground and hadn't bothered to check if it had landed where she had initially aimed. She looked up at the ridiculously ostentatious ceiling above her head, the one that seemed to have held a fascination for Vi when she'd first entered her room and a few nights later while she'd been sitting with her as she'd prepared some paperwork that had been delayed by her mother's funeral. She'd once commented on how terribly pompous and unnecessary it all seemed, and Caitlyn had laughed, for the first time in a long time, and replied that she thought it was excessive too. She liked that, being with Vi, feeling that she wasn't alone, that she could feel free and vulnerable in the presence of someone who wasn't hiding ulterior motives with her, who was completely transparent with her and loved her for who she was and not for her last name and her money. She sighed, coming back to reality. The silence in her room was completely deafening. Now that she thought about it, the silence throughout the mansion was unbearable.
The gap in the relationship between her father and her right now seemed unbridgeable, the silences between them all the conversation they could hope for. Tobias seemed to be in a completely different world, far from Caitlyn, far from home, far from himself and his mind, locked away somewhere within it where the pain couldn't reach him, and Caitlyn—Caitlyn couldn't devote too much time to her father's pain, couldn't even devote the minimum amount of time to her own pain. There were more pressing things than her broken heart, than her broken relationship with her father, than anything she needed at that moment; that could wait, but the safety of both cities, justice, revenge, that couldn't wait.
She began to unbutton her uniform jacket as the unease seemed to grow within her. She took off her gloves and threw them away in the same careless manner she had thrown her beret. The jacket followed them somewhere on the floor. She unbuttoned her shirt and let her hair down. She was so fed up, so tired of everything. The past week, when she had let herself be dominated by self-loathing and her desire to think about nothing, when she had been intimate with Maddie (the memory still made her blood run cold), doubts had begun to overwhelm her. Was all of this really necessary? Was martial law necessary? The curfew? The checkpoints? Should she let Ambessa take charge of everything and allow her the power she seemed to control so well? Once again, that feeling of nausea invaded her. This time, bile rose to her throat, burning her, but with such a weak impulse that it didn't allow itself to be more than a gag, which Caitlyn tried her best to suppress. She inhaled deeply and swallowed with difficulty. She breathed quickly, trying to contain the possibility of another gag, and after hyperventilating for a minute, she was finally able to breathe deeply, no longer feeling the burning sensation in her throat. She inhaled deeply, feeling the nausea diminish within her. She removed her shirt, unbuttoning it without the slightest care and throwing it away. She ended up getting rid of her boots and pants, taking her underwear with them, leaving her completely naked in the middle of the room. She looked toward her window, the same window she and Vi had walked through six months ago, seeking an audience with the council, seeking help after the tragedy on the bridge, that time when she had realized fully that no matter what she did from then on, she would never be able to be with anyone but the Zaunite at her side. She had known it in that instant, she had known it when they had kissed in the sewer passages searching for Jinx, and she had known it in the next instant when Vi had found herself kneeling on the floor, that sad look filled with disappointment as she clutched her side, the victim of an unforgivable act that she would make her own personal torture every night, every day, every minute. She didn't deserve forgiveness, she didn't deserve love, she didn't deserve any kind of leniency, and that suited her perfectly.
She knew it was what she deserved, that what she believed to be eternal wouldn't last forever. People like her, people who let themselves be carried away by their stupidity, deserved to end badly, and she, she wasn't just stupid, she was pathetic. That's why she let the hatred consume her, why she let herself be led into bed with Maddie even though the experience was totally unpleasant and uncomfortable. She needed something to destroy her, she needed to feel the disgust she felt within herself run through her skin, and after sleeping with her friend, feel that hatred she kept only for herself completely poison her heart. She was sure that the extreme and constant fatigue that had made her hallucinate a couple of times with Vi near her, staring at her, with clumsy steps that seemed to denote a state of considerable drunkenness, and with a hairstyle that in the darkness was not entirely clear, but that Caitlyn could decipher from the fact that she did not like it, was not only part of the feelings she harbored for herself, but of her self-destructive mechanism of overexerting herself, of working until she could not anymore, of not sleeping for days and days consumed by an obsession that she did not know if it still made sense and had already completely lost its meaning.
She put on a light nightgown and wrapped herself in a robe that was hanging on a chair near her vanity table. Then, without giving it a second thought, she left her room and wandered the halls of the Kiramman mansion aimlessly. She went down to the first floor and continued on her way without even paying attention to where she was going. She wanted to talk to Vi, she wanted to apologize, she wanted to tell her so many things, to ask her to return to the mansion with her, to be by her side and hold her and never let her go again. Once again, the image of her walking away while leaving a wounded Vi behind invaded her mind. She shook her head and pushed the thought away. She could look for her, she could ask her for everything she had thought about before, but then, what? If she were Vi, she would flee like the plague from herself, looking for a place where she could never be found again. If Vi did that, she wouldn't blame her at all. Nothing would bring Vi back and she knew it, all she needed at that moment was to know that she was okay, but she already had people taking care of that from a distance, she had no right to actively intervene in the Zaunite's life, not when she had already left so much damage in her wake.
She didn't know exactly how she'd gotten to the back of the mansion, she didn't even know what had brought her there, but when she saw the pool located in a corner of the secondary garden through the window, the idea of diving into it seemed the most appealing thing about that night. The silence itself seemed to pull her to the depths of despair. She sighed heavily as she reached for the handle of the sliding window that led to the garden. Before she could go through the window toward the pool, footsteps near her caught her attention, followed by someone speaking behind her.
"Miss Kiramman?" The voice belonged to the manor's butler, an elderly but discreet and loyal vastaya who fulfilled his duties perfectly and had served the family from the last years of her grandmother's life until the present day. The aforementioned woman turned her head slightly to see her employee standing a few steps behind her, dressed in his uniform and with an almost perfect upright posture. No doubt her mother would be proud of him. Would she ever be proud of her?
"I just needed some fresh air, Wickerham," she replied with a faint smile.
The vastaya narrowed his eyes, but remained unperturbed.
"Then I will send a maid immediately with some snacks for you to enjoy on the outdoor furniture."
"No, no, Wickerham, please, I don't want anything right now," Caitlyn exclaimed softly as her gaze returned to the garden.
The leader of the household's interlocutor looked inquisitively at the young woman, his eyes narrowing again, as if there was something before him he couldn't quite decipher.
"Fine, if you say so, Miss Kiramman," the butler replied, turning on his heels, ready to finish his rounds and go to bed. Even so, that strange feeling seemed to press against his chest with a certain, uneasy lightness. Before he could leave, the mistress's voice was heard again, slightly firmer than before.
"In fact, Wickerham, if there's anything I wish to ask of you, if it's not too much trouble."
"Of course not, my Lady. Just tell me and it will be done," the man in question exclaimed, not turning around, but stopping in his tracks.
"Would you please ask the rest of the staff to not enter this area until I leave?"
This time, that nagging feeling that seemed to creep lightly over his chest seemed to grip him completely at those words. There was nothing unusual about them, nothing absurd, it wasn't an odd request. Miss Caitlyn had always enjoyed her privacy. She didn't like being waited on. She was passionate about hard work and dedication. She believed in achieving things on her own, and on several occasions as a child, she would sneak into the utility room and kitchen to chat with the maids and waiters and help them perform certain tasks. This, of course, always kept Miss Cassandra on the verge of a heart attack and was always the cause of conflict between her and Miss Caitlyn. A situation that worsened when the young woman reached adolescence and then adulthood. But now, this request seemed to set off a warning flare, something that seemed implicit but he couldn't quite figure out what it was.
He hesitated, however, he couldn't deny his employer's request.
"S-sure, Miss, it will be."
"Thank you..." Caitlyn whispered as if holding her breath. "For everything." "—he emphasized, crossing the window, then closing it behind him and heading toward the pool without looking back.
That feeling only grew sharper inside Wickerham, but he couldn't do anything about a hunch, he couldn't act on it, and he couldn't disobey orders either. How he wished Dr. Tobias were in his right mind so he could tell him that, so he could tell him about that dark feeling that plagued him, but the pain had devoured that man, and there seemed to be nothing left of him, not even the remnants of his love for his poor daughter. How he would have liked for Miss Cassandra to live, she would know what to do, or how he would have liked for Vi, the little girl, to have never left. When she was there, despite the pain and sadness, Miss Caitlyn seemed at peace, calm, and approaching resignation. But she hadn't heard from her in months, and whenever the leader of the house happened to hear mention of that woman, her expression would turn into one of immense pain, and she would walk away from the place as if someone had set fire to her. He walked away feeling like he was making a mistake, but unable to do anything to find out what it was.
Caitlyn approached the edge of the pool, looking at her reflection distorted by the moonlight and the gentle movement of the water in the night breeze. Swimming was an activity she had enjoyed since she was a child, just as shooting made her happy. She liked the precision and freedom that both gave her, she liked the fluidity of her movements and the control she exerted over them, she liked the feel of her rifle, but also how it seemed to become one with her. She also liked sinking into the water and feeling her movements controlled but freed from gravity. Sometimes she dreamed that she could breathe underwater and stay there for hours, wrapped in its immensity and depth. She dipped the tip of one of her feet in and then, removing the robe that covered her, took a step forward, causing her body to immediately disappear beneath the surface of the water.
The pool at the Kiramman mansion was a considerable size and deep enough for diving, which was performed from a platform adapted since her grandmother's time.
Once she felt completely surrounded by water, she pointed her legs downward in an arrow-shaped motion and let out the air from her lungs, pressing her torso downward as she raised her arms above her head. She felt herself slowly sinking deeper and deeper into the darkness of the water. She felt peace at last. There was no noise in her head, the migraine had begun to subside, that exhaustion had now left her arms and legs weak. But all she wanted was to continue descending to the depths of the pool and stay there forever. There, alone, as she had always been, alone as she was now. In a way, it was sad. She was alone. Her mother had died, her father seemed to have died too, despite still breathing. Vi had run away in terror from the monster she was, and she—she was there, surrounded by her legacy, her money, her servants, everything, nothing. She had nothing, only money, and it was useless like that.
“Cait, Cait,” the voice came just as she was beginning to feel her strength begin to completely leave her and her head was beginning to dull with an intense but numbing pain. “Cait, Cait,” the voice whispered again, close to her. She could tell whose voice it was without even looking. She smiled weakly. She didn't respond, but she thought she was nodding.
“Cait, what are you doing?”
“I'm just swimming, Vi. I haven't done this in a long time.”
“But you're not moving, cupcake. You should be kicking and stroking, don't you think?” Caitlyn smiled at the Zaunite's snort of laughter. She was back, she was back to her! Now she could be at peace, now she could enjoy being herself, forget about everything, and be happy again. Now...
"I like to just float, Vi."
Vi looked at her with that beautiful smile that dazzled everyone, while those loving eyes looked at her with that gentleness that the Zaunite only reserved for those she loved. And there, in the moonlight, with those ethereal reflections that appeared on her face as a result of the natural night light on the pool water, she looked more beautiful than ever, so beautiful it was almost heavenly. (You don't deserve her, you don't deserve her.)
“But Cait…” her eyes seemed to express a hint of sadness. “You’re not floating.”
She felt a lump in her throat and an overwhelming urge to cry. The burning in her eyes, despite being underwater, made her aware of the tears beginning to accumulate between her eyelashes.
“I like being in the water, Vi, let me here for a moment, please, please…”
“Cupcake, I can’t, I can’t.”
“It feels good to be here, Vi, it feels good to be here, please…”
“I can’t, I can’t, come back to me, Cait, come back to me for real.”
“But we’re together now, we’re okay here now. I don’t want to go anywhere.”
“Come back to me, please, cupcake, you have so much, so much…”
“What do I have?! What do I have, Vi?! Money?! That cold thing that can never warm me? This house that looks like a palace but has only been a cold grave since you left?! Servanthood?! Luxuries?! I have nothing, Vi! I have nothing! I have no peace, no warmth, no love, no one who sees me as I truly am, no one who truly loves me. A last name, a position, it’s all I am, it’s all I’ve ever been. Only you, only you saw me, only you knew who I really was, and you didn’t care about anything else. But now, now you’re no longer here. with me and I simply…”
“Caitlyn! You have to come back, you have to come back to me!”
“You won't want me back.”
“You won't be able to know if you don't come back to me.”
“I know how you looked at me the last time we saw each other. You don't want someone like me in your life, believe me.”
“Do you know what your problem is? You think you know what I want, you think you know how I feel about you because of that moment, and you only think about that moment and not the others.”
“There are too many mistakes, Vi. I can never make it up to you for the damage…”
“That's not for you to decide.”
“I don't have you anymore. I don't have you anymore, right?”
“Come back, Cait. Come back and you'll be able to know, but come back to me.”
“Vi…”
“Come back, Cait. Come back. Come back, please!” The voice seemed to grow more intense and desperate, at the same time as it seemed to be absorbed by some distant void.
She opened her eyes and felt a sharp, stabbing pain in her nose. Before she could breathe in, she felt how suddenly her throat seemed to close, blocking everything that could pass through it. Instinct made her stroke and kick to get to the surface in a single movement. When her head came out of the water, she began to cough uncontrollably, but her limbs moved frantically to stay afloat and get closer to the shore. She felt the heaviness in her arms and legs and that terrible pain that spread through them as She struggled with all her might to reach the edge of the pool. She had to go back, had to find Vi, or at least make sure she was okay. When she finally reached the edge of the pool and was able to hold on to it with her trembling arms, she used the last bit of energy she had left to push herself out of the water, letting her body slump near the edge, while her lungs struggled to oxygenate themselves as quickly and effectively as possible with rapid, deep breaths. Her eyes turned to the sky and the stars above her.
She had to make sure Vi was out of danger, even if she would never see her again, even if they would never cross paths again, even if they would never share even one more glance. Vi had to be safe, alive, and far from all the chaos that was coming.
She couldn't undo the crimes she'd committed, she couldn't undo her mistakes, but she could try to make amends, she could look for one last chance to make sure things weren't a complete disaster in the end. She thought about that moment, as she finally managed to steady her breathing and feel her heartbeat begin to slow down the pounding inside her chest, she knew she had to do something, something that could intervene in the fatal course of things. Vi wouldn't be with her, but at least if she ever thought of her, the memory she might evoke wouldn't be as horrendous as the last time they saw each other.
“The silence is pulling me under
Your mind's goin' places that I can't see
I can't stand the thought of another
But they could never be me 'cause
I got a million rings and a house for kings
But it don't mean nothin', it don't mean nothing
Got a fancy car in the driveway now
But it don't mean nothin' if I don't have you with me, you with me”