Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Teto was a wet dog. Her coils lost their lift, instead drooping from her head like dead fish. Her papers were ruined. And she was head to toe in rainwater. 

Walking was a bad choice. 

The cold wind nipped at her already freezing fingers. She looked at the cars with envy, wishing she could have been in one, driving home dry and under a roof.

She sighed, shifting her weight.

Water rushed into her shoes.

She started to wander across the sidewalk.

She strolled past blocks and blocks of closed shops. Crickets chirped from bushes in pitch-black, fenced off areas. The cold air made her feel like a ghost, floating through the city completely detached.

She kept walking, seeing backlit sillouhettes of trashcans, benches, and the still-buzzing ceiling fans of closed businesses. She floated through empty streets, rain pouring onto her face. Streetlamps and headlights left glittering yellow reflections on puddles.

Then, out of nowhere, a sign of life. A shifting form.

She saw a pedestrian casually strutting through the street with a huge umbrella, backlit by a streetlight's reflection on a puddle. 

She kept looking, envious. Oh, what she would do to be like her! 

She continued to observe the woman across the street, strutting like a chicken, with a huge set of oversized ribbons on her dress that somehow kept off the ground. 

I would kill to be that carefree.

She shifted in her shoes again. Another surge of cold water pushed into her socks. 

Wait. What was she doing here, at 11PM, in the pouring rain? 

She kept watching, curious. The woman paced around calmly.

Her eyes tracked onto a puddle.

In the shimmering reflection was the woman, lit from ahead by a yellow streetlamp.

She had long white hair that floated behind her like snakes from Medusa's head, and a wide, flashy skirt to go with her small, normal skirt. And she was utterly decked out with a multitude of long stringy things. Bows, ribbons, even a scrap of red yarn hanging from her finger. All perfectly dry and spotless.

Her heart ached with jealousy. All she had in her wardrobe that even remotely compared to what she had was an undersized dress from her teen years. 

Something compelled her to cross the street and see.

She planted her foot on the crosswalk.

She was walking in a deep puddle. Too late to stay dry.

She would start reflecting on her decisions and get run over midthought if she slowed down.

She was a few feet away now.

The woman turned her head.

"Hm?"

Her voice was high and smooth, yet modulated. And she was clearly a SynthV.

She lit up. When was the last time she met another synth? Sure, they were different softwares. Teto was an UTAU. Too poor for all the fancy tech they baked in. But they both had metal in their throats, so what was the difference?

Her eyes got lost in her outfit's endless details. Her skirt had these pen-shaped extensions like a butterfly's wing tails. 

She didn't know what to say.

"Hi."

Not great.

The woman smiled.

"I see. You're an... UTAU. Right?"

Yes! Yes she was! She was clearly psychic. Maybe she was waiting to see another synth like her, too.

"Mm... Yes."

She mumbled.

"Why are you... Why are you here?"

Teto froze, harder than she already was in this weather. She stared down at the shimmering puddle on the ground. 

"Hahaa... "

She pushed her foot, and the water swirled around in a funny pattern.

"I'm here... Trying to get home... Walked to..."

She trembled.

"to. ..work.. fffell asleep"

She twisted internally with shame.

She thought it was a good idea. Really. She would just walk there. It felt like a heroic act for nature. It was only fifteen minutes, right? It was half an hour. 

Only problem is, she didn't check the weather. And she didn't take her meds, so you can imagine what it was like, waking up in an empty, unlit office at 10PM.

"Ohh. That's awful. And you've got funny hair."

"Say... says you..."

A bit of snark slipped out.

She smiled a little.

She liked it when people pointed out her coils. She worked hard on them. But they were melting like wet cotton candy right now.

Suddenly, she felt the rain on her head stop. 

She looked up. 

The woman had shifted a step to the side, her big, clear blue umbrella covering Teto's head.

"Th-thanks."

She sighed. When was the last time something like this happened? Maybe she looked like just enough of a charity case for someone to toss her a coin.

She felt something brush across her face. The woman's pinky string blew across her face in the wind. 

"Oh. Haha! Ignore it."

She shivered in her clothes.

"You know what? I'll show you something."

Wow. I must look truly miserable.

She followed as the woman took off into the dark.

They navigated through dark streets, cold wind blowing against her face. They were surrounded by tall, wide buildings that choked out the moonlight. 

A left. A right. Across a crosswalk.

Finally, they arrived at the only open building in town.

It was small, a convenience store lit up by flickery fluorescent lights. It was the only one she could see. But it was hope; an oasis.

Teto took a second to wring rainwater from the edges of her suit before they walked through the door.

Her hungry eyes scanned the room. Rows of chips, aisles of candy. She could go for a soda. 

She heard a voice from the counter.

"Eleanor, nice to see you!"

The cashier's eyebrows tightened.

"And we have a guest?"

She felt painfully seen right now, the girl's sapphire eyes staring through her skin.

This "Eleanor" whined.

"And is it your problem?"

The cashier turned her head, rolling her eyes. 

Teto wandered away, headed for the fridge like a zombie. 

The door opened. She hardly noticed the coldness of the air, considering how cold she was already. Her numb fingers fumbled for a can of soda. 

She heard Eleanor's clattering footsteps behind her. 

She quickly stuffed the can back into its row, preparing for Eleanor's voice to turn loud.

"They have coffee here. Hot coffee."

Her brain lagged for a moment. Why wasn't she being scolded? 

"Sure. Kkay."

She froze in place for a moment, cold hands fidgeting with each other. She didn't really want to talk, or move for that matter. She wanted to sleep.

Eleanor strided towards another counter, by the back. 

Teto wandered. She walked past rows of candy. Painfully slowly. Her eyes took a good few seconds to fix on each one, begging her hands to pick it up. She saw counters full of flavored gum. A few sandwiches, even. They had French bread!  

She decided to test her luck and take the French bread. It rattled in its packaging as she picked it up, lethargic. She could smell the bread through the case.

She stumbled up to the counter, leaning against the glass top. Her legs wanted to buckle, clear that they wanted even a tiny bit of rest.

Eleanor walked down the aisle.

A seed of anxiety took root. Was she being greedy?

She handed Teto a coffee. Not her favorite, but it was warm.

Eleanor pulled the bread from Teto's arms.

I knew it! I gotta stop being greedy.

She braced for the stranger to walk off, because her virtues must have been running thin. To offer a stranger off of the street a cup of coffee, in the middle of the night? That was already so much.

Eleanor placed the bread on the counter.

"That all?"

She walked over to the candy aisle, absorbed in shame. She scanned the rows of various sugary things, her eyes sifting for the best pick. Gum, gummy worms, normal gummies, hard candy, licorice, the list went on.

She went for a pack of gummy worms.

She shuffled up towards the counter and extended her arm just enough to put her goodies on the table, her arms tucked away by her side like a chicken.

"Okay, you done?"

She nodded yes.

She secretly wanted a soda, but she had already overstepped the normal boundaries of charity. So she kept quiet.

"That'll be $6.99."

Beep.

She took her bread and gummies off of the counter.

She prepared for the stranger to walk off. It was okay. She was used to being alone. She just tried not to think about navigating home.

She tucked the bread's hard plastic case under her sopping wet elbow and took her coffee.

As she lifted the cup to her mouth, she felt the warmth of her hot drink radiate from her chest, like wiping frost off of a window.

Ahhh.

She didn't feel good, but better than before.

She lingered by the door. She admittedly didn't want to leave. She leaned against the wall, knees tired.

"There's a bench out there. It should be dry."

Oh. She must have looked three-quarters dead for this. This was almost hilarious. Did she look like a lost child?

Nevertheless, she followed. How rude would it be to deny charity?

Around buildings. 

Turns and turns and turns.

They got to a park. It was small and quaint, lit up by a few lamps. White paving stones made their way to the center. In the middle was a big pagoda.

That would be nice, really.

She walked along the slippery, wet steps.

The bench really was dry. She finally sat down, her legs relaxing in an instant. There were little lights installed underneath the surfaces in here. That was nice.

For a moment, she almost appreciated the rain again.

She used to love the rain as a child. It meant playing in puddles, sticking her face up into the sky and trying to swallow the water, and it meant lots of mud to get her tiny hands on.

Now, it meant longer commutes and wet shoes. Mudstains were a dress code violation. And she knew all too well the rain was acidic these days.

She stared out at a large puddle in the middle of the park and pretended it was a pond, swimming with little fish. 

That was nice, in her head.

She liked this, maybe?

She felt the weight of her sleep loss weigh down on her head, swirling around her. Oh well. What to do? 

It was hopeless trying to actually get home in this state. She would probably just wake up in the same spot anyways in the morning. Homeless people did it all the time. Why can't she?

She curled over in her only-slightly-less-wet clothes and closed her heavy eyelids. She didn't care if she was sleeping on concrete. She was tired, so very tired. In fact, she could fall asleep in a rollercoaster right now, if she wanted to.

Sleep took her mind whole.

Chapter Text

She woke up.

She felt something rough around her - concrete, of course!

Her whole body was achy.

Guess I'll have to call in sick... if I can even get home.

She turned over, groaning. 

The rough thing followed with her.

Oh, that's my blanket. Right.

She assumed right there that she was in her bed, and the whole interaction was just a vivid fever dream.

She stuck her hand out to grab her phone and check the time.

It landed on hardwood.

Her eyes opened to check where her hand was after passing through this phantom nightstand.

She didn't know this room at all. The walls -- they were white! Hers were a dingy beige-green. And her blanket -- she was in a towel! Her clothes were still damp, so clearly the rain she trudged through was real.

What- Wh Where the hell- Did she kidnap me?

Anxious thoughts ran courses around her head.

Shitshitshitshit! Ohhhhh, she must have poisoned me! My fault for taking a coffee given to me by a random stranger off of the street! Ohhh, I'm dead! Ohhhh.

These thoughts were only half-serious, but they still offered an explanation when all else failed.

She lifted her legs. They were achy and sore, and her body trembled under their meager support. Her head was pounding. She could've sworn something was flickering in her vision.

She examined her surroundings. There was a wide window with impossibly thin drapery, and one wall was covered from corner to corner with shelves and boxes. There was even a bookshelf in one side!

This would be an oddly furnished room to keep a hostage in. Her nerves calmed a little.

Her eyes scanned the room. The door was open. Phew.

She stumbled around the room, quietly observing her surroundings from all angles, and careful not to touch anything.

The books were a mishmash of things; worn-down cardboard baby books, huge thick textbooks, middle-school fantasy novels, botany guides, and just about anything else you can think of. 

She sat down, spreading her fingers in the plush rug beneath her. This was admittedly a lot nicer than her own apartment. 

She took a breath in through her nose. Not a deep one, though. Her nostrils were halfway clogged.

She picked up a clean, perfumey scent, like a scented soap at a museum. What kidnapper has a scent diffuser? 

She peered out of the open door.

All she could see was a hallway, and a glimpse of another room if she angled her head just right.

Curiosity tugged at her brain. 

No, no, I don't think I'm supposed to leave the room...

She felt her legs slow down as she reached closer to the doorframe. 

She was going to see. Her foot passed the boundary. Her body soon followed.

She looked around. Blades didn't start to swing from overhead. There were no tripwires to pull. No alarms blared. 

The room she saw was a fancy dining room, with a blue-white chandelier hanging above the table.

She approached, head craning down for a closer look. The whole thing was draped in a dark gray tablecloth, with a couple snacks scattered across the middle. She examined closer, body leaning over the table. 

Wait. Those were her gummy worms.

Maybe Eleanor, if that was even her name, wasn't out to get her after all. 

She heard footsteps from the door.

Oh no. She wasn't supposed to be out here, was she? She had a feeling she was going to be walking home sick. Her fight and flight compromised on a decisive freeze. 

Her eyes glanced left to see Eleanor walk through the door. She wasn't covered in decorations this time, instead wearing just a knee-length gray skirt and a long-sleeved white shirt, with a big white bow tied around her hair. This was peasant clothing compared to her last outfit.

"Oh. I see you're up?"

Teto stammered in place.

"You okay?"

Her cogs screeched to a halt. She wanted to be sick alone, in the questionable comfort of her tiny apartment. She was like an wild bat -  best not to intervene. Getting asked if she was okay felt like having a stranger search your medical records and judge your life choices.

"Why... I'm so confused. Where am... I?"

"I couldn't let you sleep outside in the rain. You'd get hypothermia. Looks like bringing you in hasn't saved you from much, though."

Eleanor cited her eye bags and all around miserable demeanor.

She didn't want to argue, because Eleanor was right. 

"You can look around. Saved your bread."

Well, that's nice.

She still had a universe of doubts that mulled beneath the surface. Her mind anxiously sifted through each one at every oppurtunity, checking and re-checking each claim under a filing cabinet of evidence.

She picked up her bread and pried the packaging open. She dug in, her steel-plated teeth tearing up the crust like a starving lion. She was well aware this was undignified, but she didn't really care. Table manners were less important than food.

"I could never! My teeth are far too weak... "

Eleanor let out a restrained laugh.

Teto didn't bother to turn her head. Nourishment was priority one. She didn't want to climb Maslow's pyramid unsupported. Small talk could wait.

She had already tore halfway through her bread, crumbs flying. She felt a little guilty for getting dirt on a stranger's floor, while freeloading off of goodwill. That shred of guilt went back down with the next bite.

Finally, the hollow feeling that clawed at her stomach left. She daintily put the piece of bread back in the plastic case, as though she weren't pulling it apart like a wild animal thirty seconds ago. 

She would feel even more greedy if she actually, verbally asked for things, so she tugged at her damp sleeves, looking up at Eleanor. She hoped her message would come across.

"Oh. I think I've got an unworn t-shirt somewhere, I'll get it. Bathroom's there if you want to change."

Successful.

She pointed at another door, across from her, before walking back. 

Teto staggered towards the door and pulled the knob towards her.

It was a rather nice place, with colorful glass tiles lined up on the wall and a white shower curtain with big blue dots on it. The fresh, cool air circling through the vents almost made her forget her headache. 

Not a place to be murdered...

She ran her fingers along the wall tiles, smooth and pristine. Each one calmed her jittery hands a little as she ran her finger between the tiles. 

Then, she caught her reflection in the mirror. 

She really did look that bad. Her hair was a tangled mess, strands flying every which way. She was pale, and her eyelids drooped like wet paper. The remains of her makeup were haphazardly smeared across her face. She brought a hand to her face, and found that her cheeks were clammy.

Hell, if she saw someone looking like this on the street herself, she'd be compelled to help. No wonder someone like Eleanor seemed like she simply couldn't resist lending a hand. 

Eleanor reached a hand through the door, holding a shirt.

Teto grabbed it, examining it. It was a plain white, and fairly oversized. And it was dry. Good enough for her.

She pushed her finger into the door.

Click.

Finally. She could get out of her clothes! Well, some of them. First, she pulled her suit jacket off, tossing it onto the counter. Then, she pulled herself free from her shirt, the clingy fabric trying to grab her back as she escaped. Her skin was still sticky from the water. But this was a lot better.

She looked down, and her skin was pink like a lobster, covered in the imprints from where thick seams clung to her body in the rain. 

She scratched her ankle, driving her hand under her wet, itchy socks. 

Oh, right.

Socks. 

She pulled them off, peeling the itchy fabric off of her skin. Finally. 

She put them down along with her shirt and jacket, feeling like Atlas setting down the globe.

The extra moisture had evaporated off by now, and she lifted the shirt above her head, sticking her arms in. She felt fantastic. Compared to before, at least. To normal standards, this was miserable. But she wasn't stuck inside that wet shirt anymore!

She half-twirled, too tired to really move, and the light, airy fabric swung around her. 

She opened the door, and she was almost what you'd call "refreshed". Eleanor was sitting at the dining table, this time a bit more dressed, with her signature double-skirt and ribbons in place. 

"Better?"

"Yeah..."

She mumbled, screws rattling in her neck when she spoke.

No, really. Screws. That isn't a metaphor. She has neck screws.

"I think you've got a few screws loose."

Eleanor was right in both interpretations.

She pressed a hand to her lips.

"I didn't mean that... I mean like... Your synthbox is coming loose."

It had happened before. She didn't tighten the screws enough, and in a few hours, she was reduced to frantic, annoyed gestures and writing on Post-It notes. 

"I'll be fiiiine... You got a screwdriver?"

"You... sure?"

"Yeah... I should be able to..."

She mimed screwing at the back of her neck, her hand visibly shaking as she brought it up to her head.

"You can't even hold your hand up right..."

"No, I'm going to be f-"

Her voice cut out into a hollow whisper. She tried again.

"I'll be fine. I've done this before."

She was not, in fact, fine. 

"No, no, rea-"

Eleanor wasn't falling for it.

"You- you have to get them screwed back in..."

She looked worried. Teto hated it when people looked worried about her. It was too much; she wanted to be miserable alone.

She heard all of the scary childhood stories of other synths having their heads fall off after refusing to tighten their screws. She just didn't want to care right now. All she wanted was to sleep, to curl up in bed and go out like a light.

Chapter Text

Teto had her head in a sink now. Oh well. 

She squirmed a little every time Eleanor had to touch her neck. She always hated being touched. She hated it all. Doctor's visits. Hairdressers. Her boss, who liked petting her head like a dog because he thinks it's sooooo cute. Each time, it felt like her soul was being dug into by sharp nails. Too close, too much. She hated closeness in general.

A screw came undone. Eleanor set it down in the plastic tray next to her with a clink. 

She opened her mouth to groan, but the moment she started to speak, the half-screwed-in cover on her neck rattled, scraping her bones like nails on a chalkboard. 

"Hey, stay still."

She complied, albeit a little annoyed. 

Clink.

Halfway done. She could feel the cold air seep into her synthbox's wires, as the cover began to lift.

Clink.

Eleanor was pretty good at this. Each time she aligned the screwdriver, the screw was out in moments. Her agile fingers twirled the tool with amazing speed.

Clink.

She picked the cover up gently, with her shimmery nails, and set it down.

She shifted her body, head leaned in further to see what she was doing.

In the cavity was a matte, silver metal box, screwed into the metal frame in her neck. The rest was, for the most part, human tissue, like the inside of your mouth. 

The cold air grazed her, and she almost reached her hand up to cover her neck before realizing she would slap Eleanor in the face by doing that. She kept in place instead, her back aching from curling her head over into the sink. 

She felt an twisting sensation, while Eleanor re-tightened the screws attaching her synthbox to her neck frame. She could feel the mass in her neck move forwards.

"You know, I'm pretty sure I don't have a neck frame. Newer model, I guess."

Jealousy struck Teto's chest again. No neck frame? New model? She could dream. She had barely scrounged up enough spare money for a few little things -- a nicer dinner, real jewelry, or even getting her phone fixed.

 It hadn't had working GPS for a few months, and the screen was barely responsive. That was just how it is. It took ages to get anywhere, because she had to peck out her location by hand with her half-functional screen, then painstakingly check and recheck her location with the street view. 

Meanwhile, she could look all around Eleanor's house and see how lucky she was. Even looking at the woman herself made her heart twist with envy. She had perfect, glowing skin, all the time. It hurt to look at. 

She slipped into a daydream, where she was the one living in this nice house, with its pretty furniture and smooth paint job. She could stay as long as she liked, and she didn't have to scrape through life, hopping from paycheck to paycheck. And she had nice food in her house, and she lived in a house and not an apartment. She smiled a little to herself.

She jolted from her trance when she felt the last screw go back in.

"Alright!"

Teto stood up, steadying herself as her back popped into place. She took a breath and sung a note.

It was perfect. Despite her minimal software and poor physical state, the note was smooth, natural, and perfectly in tune. She was surpised herself.

Eleanor took a step back, bringing her hand up to her mouth.

She felt powerful, for once. Her whole life, she was subordinate. Always the teacher's student, or the parent's child, or nowadays, she was just another employee of hundreds. 

Now, she had a skill. She was a valued and unique member of society, and she wasn't just being told that behind soulless, corporate stock music. 

"I didn't know you could sing so well!"

"I didn't either."

She really didn't. Usually she could only sing about as well as your average Joe off of the street, her voice cracking and losing energy like a human's would. But now, she was truly an instrument. Words belted out of her mouth with no effort.

In the old days, synths were made to sing. Now they were just fancy humans with extra maintenence and a weird voice. 

Evidenced by the fact that she was an office worker and not an idol.

She touched a cold finger to her throat and sung again.

Still perfect. She could feel the note resonate in her aluminium-augmented bones.

She felt more free than ever at this moment. 

She closed her lips and took a breath. 

Hmmmmmmm!

She hummed a smooth tone. 

Not before her human part caught up to her, though. The fleshy walls of her upper throat began to sting. 

 Was she too eager? Maybe.

She gestured to her lower chin and winced. Eleanor was watching in the corner like a parent at football practice.

"Yeah, sore throats suck. Not much I can do for that."

Ouch.

She felt the creeping worry that she was exploiting Eleanor's kindness reemerge in her mind. Her instincts told her to pick up her clothes, bolt out of the door, forget the last few hours and get home. She fought them with her amazing faith in ignoring things and letting life happen to her. 

If she isn't happy with me, I would already be out the door. Nobody actually likes doing synth adjustments anyways. She's not mad! Not mad not mad not mad!

She made sure to repeat those words in her head over and over, like a mantra. This only eased the worry a little. 

Without a word, she walked off back to the room where she woke up. She didn't want to see what Eleanor thought, so she didn't look back. 

She picked up the towel and wrapped it around herself, curling up in the shaded part of the room beneath the window. She still felt icky. But she was tired, and she wanted to ignore things for a little while longer. 

She twisted around. None of this was comfortable. She imagined that the hardwood floor was a queen-sized bed, and she was a princess, who could get whatever she wanted. 

No, no. If I was a princess, I'd be humble! I would only ask for things I really needed! Not a freeloader! And I'd live in a regular old house, and I would swear to be a loyal patron of my country! And I would make my own money in a shop instead of taking from my kingdom!

She really couldn't let herself have one thing, could she?

A very real voice shot through her muffled internal ramblings.

"You sure that's comfortable?"

Stop trying to make me ask you for things! It's not happening! I'm not going to be needy! I'm thirty!

She wished she could say all of that out loud.

She stayed still, placing her faith back in letting life pass her by.

"I have an air mattress. You don't need to sleep on the floor. "

Teto whined a little, not wanting to react to the situation. Why was she being offered more things?

"Do I... do I need to get medical care for you?"

"No! No. I'm fine."

She wanted to escape into her daydream completely. Nothing she could do here felt good. 

"I don't think that's true."

Eleanor's questioning harrowed her. She wanted to be left alone! Not having someone care for her like a small child! 

She collected all of her willpower up so she could get through this situation without feeling too bad about it.

"Okay, sure. I'm-"

She searched for the next word.

"I'm fine with having the mattress, okay."

Each word stung. But at least she got them out of her. She had failed to dodge another guilt-laced luxury, but at least it saved her from some pity. 

The pit of worry only grew deeper in her chest. She listened with discomfort as Eleanor took heavy breaths in to fill her undeserved mattress with air. 

Her eyelids slipped open to see Eleanor slide the mattress next to her. She rolled in, turning over on her side. As she settled in, she realized something. 

It wasn't my demand. She offered it to me. I didn't even tell her I wasn't comfortable!

This eased her guilt a little.

She sunk into the cushion, pulling the towel over her body with her weak arms. It was nice. She couldn't deny that. Her back relaxed, pressing into the fabric. 

She finally fell asleep, in actual bedding. 

Chapter Text

Yaaaawn.

She felt a little less miserable this time. The midday sun blared into her face as she sat up. She was still sick, but the warm sun was a nice distraction. 

She paused, trying to think if there was anything to do. Of course there was! Eleanor seemed like an upper-class type of girl, who owns a marble statue of her dog or something else along those lines. Therefore, she must have a nice house? The dining room was proof that she kept things clean. She lit up with excitement at the idea of exploring a mansion.

She tried her voice again, as quiet as possible.

“Ah!”

It still stung. What did she expect? Was sleeping on the floor with a camping mattress really the sleep of dreams, where all sickness is healed? She twisted the flattened-out and tangled pigtails that were once her coils using her fingers.  

Ughh… When can I get those back?

She was far too tired to go through her entire hour-long routine of endless hair products. Not to mention, she had no clue if Eleanor actually kept the stuff she used with her hair. Her thin, white hair wasn’t ever shaped or curled, instead flowing free and being diverted into long, straight streams by her bows. She was not the kind of person to buy gels.

She stretched, her tired muscles loosening with each movement. This was really the morning routine dream, apart from the fact that she wasn’t in her own home, or the fact that it was noon, or the fact that she was sick. 

She kept fidgeting with her hair, teasing out the tangles with her fingers. 

Maybe this girl has a hairbrush somewhere… 

She’ll be mad if I ask her. I would be mad if someone asked for my hairbrush.

She thought a little more. 

… I don’t think I’d be mad, really…

Her brain didn’t know how to fit this into its web of evidence that “Eleanor thinks I’m lazy”, so it tossed the thought into a random box, ignoring it.

She set that train of reasoning on the backburner and stumbled out of the room. She walked past the dining room table and turned to her right, where she hadn’t ever gone before.

She found herself atop a spiral stairwell, with a closed door right next to her, which she presumed was Eleanor’s bedroom. She, perhaps wisely, decided not to touch it. 

She couldn’t really see under the stairwell, but it looked like it was a very large room, like a hotel lobby. She planted a shaky foot on the step beneath her, clinging to the railing for dear life. She kept taking shaky steps down the stairs, her entire body falling a little with every step. As she descended, the room beneath her began to reveal itself.

Finally, she was at the bottom. The floor was a brilliant, smooth stone, with checkered tiles and red carpets scattered in sections of floor. It really did look like a hotel lobby. She took in the diffused sunlight that scattered off of the marble from the huge windows on the other side. The air was comfortably warm, unlike the rest of the building. 

She walked over to the windows, the clear, smooth glass stretching above her head for several feet. If she did so much as touch them, she would smear the glass. She glared out, the sun shining into her eyes and reflecting right off of the bright tiles outside. 

The whole outdoors looked like a huge fluorescent light, and her eyesight dimmed to purple after looking at it for too long. She closed her eyes, the sunlight shining through her eyelids and filtering to a deep red. She basked in the sun like a lizard, the warm light heating up her barely-warm body. 

She could probably faĺl asleep again if she let herself, but she had already fallen asleep too many times in the last day. 

She picked herself back up and looked around the room. She was surrounded with big, tall plants in shiny white pots, and the tiles beneath her feet were impossibly smooth, her reflection staring back at her in each one. She traced her hand along a velvety chair arm.

The clattering of Eleanor's footsteps entered the room.

Her heart spun with each click of Eleanor's heels. 

This probably isn't where I'm meant to be!

She froze behind the chair, while Eleanor continued across the tile floor. She was getting closer, although she didn't look like she was on a search mission.

Her eyes caught Teto's. Her heart skipped.

And she kept walking.

Maybe, maybe that's… that's a fluke! She just didn't notice me! Maybe she mistook me for someone else! I'm still not meant to be going here!

Her breathing quickened, ears ringing to the rhythm of her speeding pulse. She balled up like a scared animal, burying her ears between her legs and pushing her knees inwards. 

Her mind plotted out routes to escape. Her legs begged to pick her up and slip past Eleanor, promising to take her up the stairs much faster this time. Her heart pounded in anticipation, promising to deliver enough blood around her aching body to let her run like the wind and escape. Her hands promised they'd let her use them as a second pair of feet, so she could scramble across the floor quietly like a rat. 

But she denied their offers. She knew not to run for it too soon. It was far too risky.

Eleanor looked at her a little closer, examining her like a dissected frog. She was a bird of prey, and Teto was a rabbit. Her breathing sped up into shallow panting, stinging her dry throat with every inhale. She felt a painful knot of tension roll up in her stomach, reaching up to her chest. The world was alien; a crowd of moving shapes that spun around her.

Her frenzied instincts took the wheel, her own thoughts and reasoning being forced into the backseat to watch as it swerved off of a cliff. It only knew a few things. Fight when it's smaller than you. Flight when it's slower. Fawn if it's an emotional creature. Freeze if it's got bad vision. 

Play dead if you're really out of luck.

Her body collapsed like a discarded puppet. She fell onto her back, head hitting the hard stone floor.

Her curled-up legs slowly extended under their weight, feet slipping underneath the chair. She stared up at the ceiling, eyes darting the room. She was doomed, no matter what. There was no good way out of this. 

She was helpless. She demanded for her legs to pick her up, but they twitched in place instead. She kept begging, but her useless body stayed still. The knot in her chest pulled tighter than it had ever gone before. 

One last part of her left to try. She braced herself.

AaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

Her battle cry echoed off of the walls. She could feel her neck vibrate.

Her synthbox was the only one hardwired directly to her thoughts. She didn't have to control it like she would an arm or a leg. It just hummed at whatever tone she wanted it to, whenever she asked. All she had to do was move her mouth, and she was talking. And she was endlessly grateful of that right now. 

The world was a distant memory right now, and she didn't want to get any closer. She heard more clattering footsteps, speeding up towards her.

Eleanor's face intruded into her vision. She didn't let herself feel anything in response.

"Are you okay? Talk to me, please!", Eleanor begged.

She let out only a squeak. Eleanor's eyes began to look more fearful than predatory, her face twisting into a frenzied expression.

Eleanor stuck up her hand to Teto's face.

"Can you see me? Ca-can you see this?"

Her voice was beginning to crack.

"Yeahhh… your hand?"

" What-What was wrong? What was that? Are you--are you hurt?"

"No… m'fine…"

 Teto was half lying. Her head still hurt, after it landed on the floor. She assumed that wasn't what Eleanor was asking, though.

"No, I don't think that- I don't think that's true."

This should have felt awful, but the world was so far away that it didn't get through to her. 

"Really… I'm fine. Sorry about that. Sorry."

"Why would you be sorry about collapsing on the floor? I don't - I don't think that's reasonable!"

"The… I yelled? Sorry to inconvenience you…" 

"And why would I be mad? You looked terrified!"

Oh, she saw that. 

"It's… well it's annoying, isn't it?" 

She didn't know what she was arguing for. She just wanted to fight for fighting's sake.

"Well, you're probably feeling a little worse than 'annoyed'!"

Not really. She was numb. Eleanor wouldn't believe that, though.

As a testament to just how good she was feeling, she sat up. Her animalistic brain had deemed the situation "resolved" enough for that.

"Mmmm… M' feeling fine…"

The moment she sat up, the world was set back into its place. Everything was real, and she was alive to deal with it. The tsunami of things that she had held back was ready to come forth. 

Starting now.

A tidal wave of embarrassment swept over her. 

—Why did I do that why did I do that why did I do that why did I— 

She clawed her hands over her face. She wanted to feel as numb as she was fifteen seconds ago. But it was too late to close the floodgates; the wave was already coming in. And she was drowning in it.

She didn't want to hear any of what Eleanor was saying, no matter how desperate she sounded. Another wave of feelings was on its way. Disgust. She reeled, repelled by the way Eleanor seemed to care so much. Too close. Too childish. She was thirty, not three. She didn't want to be coddled! She recoiled, curling her chin up against her knees.

Reality was becoming distant again, but that was only because she was drowning in her own feelings. A new thought could come in at any time and release a monsoon of emotions. 

She covered her ears. The cold floor pressing against her hands was her only comfort. She liked it because it didn't intervene. It just sat there; it didn't ask you stupid things like "are you okay?" or "what happened?", and you could imagine banging your head into it all you liked.

She felt another wave come over her. Fear. She could hardly even see what was happening outside of her head at this point. She drove her nails hard into her scalp, and she didn't even know that it was happening. She was hardly alive right now. Her mind flashed with visions where Eleanor killed her, for being annoying. That almost felt like a deserved outcome in her mind.

The waves collided, each feeling becoming indistinguishable from the next in a huge, rolling sea. She heard Eleanor's panicked voice shine through for a second.

"Plea——Yo—-"

 She didn't want to listen, so the noise faded into muffled, meaningless tones again. Just the way she liked it. 

She extended an arm out, trying to find something non-Eleanor she could grab. She wanted something to hold that didn't hold her back. Her hand swung aimlessly, smacking against a pillar. She tried again and grabbed Eleanor's calf, her hand gripping around in an instant. Her fingers loosened, as another wave of disgust, or maybe shame washed over her. She reeled a little.

Finally, she found something. Her grip tightened around a velvety pillow. Without thinking, she pressed it to her chest, wrapping her arms around it. 

A pillow doesn't treat you like a child, asking you stupid questions about your health. That's what Teto wanted. She buried her face in the cushion, legs curling up into fetal position.

 She could hear—but not feel—herself breathing. She was panting. Like a dog. Another wave of embarrassment struck her like a tsunami. Each breath made her feel sick on the inside.

She mumbled something incoherent to herself, to try and dull the feeling. Her nails drove into the pillow. It didn't tell her anything about how it felt, or try to draw conclusions about her mental health. Which was a lot better than what people did.

She felt a hand grip her shoulder.

 A hydrothermal vent filled with hot, blazing anger lit up inside her. She thrashed in the water, miles beneath the surface. She had no clue what was happening outside. She didn't want to. She wanted to stay in her little undersea apocalypse bunker, where no-one could ever hurt her, at least not directly. 

So there she stayed.

Under the sea.

Where no light would ever shine through.

Just the way she liked it.

Chapter Text

Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale.

The world was coming back into focus. Teto found herself lying down in that same velvet chair she was clinging to before everything… happened. Eleanor's face was fading into her vision. She caught her breath, after resurfacing from the sea she had been drowning in a few minutes ago. She didn't even remember any of what she did.

Seeing Eleanor made her remember just why she was so scared, so ashamed. It all snapped back to her, and she braced for what horrible things Eleanor was surely thinking, all of the pity she was ready to unleash.

"You good?'

She hated those words. What did they mean? Were they asking for every fear she had ever had? Was she only expected to answer with "yes"? Her head spun with questions, but she only responded with a "Yes", as she was taught to do.

She knew Eleanor wouldn't believe her, maybe because it was impossible to lie after everything that happened. She was lying, though.

Eleanor didn't reply with another stinging "I know that's a lie", to Teto's surprise.

"I'll get tea."

She didn't try to fight; she knew by now that being offered things meant you were encouraged to take them, if not obligated. She did like tea, after all. So she sat still, just the way she liked it.

She stared at the ceiling, even though that made her nose sting. She counted the shiny stone tiles above her, and wished she could touch them too. Would they be smoother? Rougher? Her shoulder twitched. She could feel her cheeks ache, as though she had been crying. It was believable that she had, so she assumed she was crying.

The muscles in her abdomen were sore, more sore than the rest of her body. They ached with each inhale. She liked the feeling. It showed she had emotion. Sometimes, she really did like being emotional. She imagined herself as a princess in a storybook, crying in her tower before her Prince Charming came to rescue her.

Hehe. Does this mean Eleanor is a "Princess Charming?" That'd be funny. Do those even exist?

She remembered that gay people existed. Oh, right. She entertained the idea for all of three seconds, before dropping it. It just wasn't relevant.

Eleanor came into the room, interrupting her train of thought as it careened off of its track. She put down a tray of tea at a nearby table, beckoning for Teto to come over. She stood up on her shaking legs, stumbling over to the chair opposite of Eleanor. She leaned off of the armrest, staring at her beloved stone floor.

"I never got your name…"

She fumbled to get the words out of her lips.

"Kasane Teto."

"Nice name. "

"Thanks", she muttered under her breath.

She didn't want to say much. Talking was exhausting.

She extended an arm towards the tray and picked up a hot cup of tea, cradling it in her hands. The hot vapor kissed her face, and she almost appreciated Eleanor's offer for a second.

"So, Teto, how's the tea?"

Hearing someone call her by her own name was jarring, as she was used to being called "Miss Kasane" in the workplace. She hadn't even brought the cup to her lips. She didn't want to waste her words on explaining that she hadn't tasted it yet, so she took a chance and tilted the mug as soon as possible.

Her hands jolted away from her face in an instant. Scalding hot tea rushed into her mouth, attacking her tongue.

"Hah, still hot?"

Eleanor's hands were shaking too, although she looked calm, holding the teacup with a single, dainty hand. Her voice oozed with anxious energy, while Teto blocked out any chance of feeling grateful, or worse, wanting more.

Teto blew over the cup, feeling a little defeated after her last battle with the drink. She took another sip.

An earthy aroma rose from her mouth to her nose, as the warmth of the tea permeated her face, spreading to her cheeks. She could taste the tea leaves' flavor at the back of her throat with every exhale.

"S' good."

Eleanor's twitchy face loosened a bit.

"Glad you're enjoying it."

Her first gut instinct was to recoil, pushing Eleanor's kind words away from her. She explained to her gut that the best, most rational choice here was to let Eleanor be nice, to avoid making a scene again. She kept in place, refusing to let herself dodge Eleanor's words.

She nodded.

Teto almost liked the feeling of being forced to let her guard down. She laid back in her chair, setting the cup back down on the table. Maybe she could cheat her way into being spoiled, on the condition that it was forced upon her. She cringed a little at the idea, but the reward was enticing.

And so she had the idea to try opening her heart, just a little. From her walled palace of shame, she could tell Eleanor was hopefully a good person. It felt like an absurd dare, like the idea of slapping your old bullies in the face; unlikely and poorly thought out. But the stakes here were a lot lower than an assault charge. The worst that could happen was maybe feeling icky, at most.

She went for it, running off of shallow impulses. She dropped the filters she kept on at all times, scanning for danger and testing her morality scores every three minutes. Her heart was open to feel things other than cycling between fear, disgust, shame, and anger.

The world became clear.

Letting go of her guard was euphoric; like sitting down after a long walk. She could set down all of the mental calculations and hypotheticals, at least for a moment.

Her fatigue almost crept away.

She let herself appreciate Eleanor's kindness, at least a little. It took a lot of effort to stop her judgment from picking on her, like it did whenever good things happened. Now, she was ready for whatever silly things Eleanor was ready to throw at her. She braced for the next wave of offerings, promising not to fight and try to turn them down this time.

"I've got some snacks in the kitchen…"

Eleanor stood up, gliding up the staircase. Teto fought the impulse to complain, remembering that she was at least going to try and let herself enjoy things for now. She imagined what Eleanor might come down holding, ranging from an entire steak dinner to a half eaten fun-size bag of cheesy chips. Her stomach growled, begging for a scrap of food.

Eleanor came back down the stairs, with a tiny plate that had a fluffy, yellow cake slice on top. Her stomach pleaded to try just a bite. That was her plan.

She could hardly stop herself from springing out of the chair when the Eleanor put the slice on the table. The slice was layered with yellow-white frosting, and it had a sugary decoration on top in the shape of a lemon. She wanted to throw her hands forward and wolf the entire thing down. She had to stop herself, though.

She waited, as Eleanor took a spoon out and set it on her plate. She could imagine the flavor in her mouth already, but it faded in an instant. She wrapped her fingers around the handle and picked up the spoon, holding it above the slice. She took a quick glance at Eleanor for approval.

"Yeah, go ahead."

Finally.

She drove the spoon into the cake, shoving a bite into her mouth. The cake melted in her mouth, the sourness of the lemon and the sweet frosting dancing on her tongue. Her stomach purred with contentment, still demanding more. She put another bite in her mouth, savoring the fluffy texture. Eleanor smiled and watched, her hands sitting in her lap.

She picked the decoration off of the top, putting it between her teeth and sucking on it like a lollipop. She was too absorbed in the flavor to catch how undignified she looked. Not like she was going to let herself care anyways.

She scraped the frosting from the plate using a spoon, and in a few seconds she realized the cake was gone.

Eleanor picked up her plate and went back up the stairs. Teto almost felt a wave of shame wash over her, but she pushed it back. She tried to focus on the aftertaste of the cake she had just eaten, choking away the feeling.

As Eleanor descended the stairs again, she felt guilt creep into the recesses of her mind. She tried to pick up hints of genuine goodwill, to ease the pain. She let her heart open more, and found that Eleanor oozed with it.

She was overcome with relief. She assumed she was just taking advantage of this poor scared girl, with her scheming methods of manipulation. That possibility was choked out, buried.