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What now? Annie thought to herself, feeling even more empty than usual now that she was off duty. Others in the military police would go out drinking after their shifts, or return home to their families…but she had no interest in alcohol or the company of her fellow police members, and the only home she had to return to was the small living space provided to those in the force with no housing of their own. It was comfortable enough there, but it reminded her of the barracks she’d slept in as a trainee. The last thing she wanted to think about was her time spent there.
Soon the woman found herself in the marketplace. It was far less lively than usual, with many of the stalls closed down for the day, but a small handful still had their wares displayed. Merchants still doing business at that time of night were surely desperate for business – run by people who could just barely afford the costs of living deep inside the walls. Annie found herself drawn to one stall in particular, run by a tired looking young woman. A little boy peeked up over the table when Annie came closer.
“Good evening, ma’am!” The merchant greeted Annie eagerly, but the gesture was not returned. Instead, Annie silently examined the various trinkets laid out on the table. Nothing particularly useful, or even all that eye catching…but then again, she was never fond of jewelry in the first place. A small, single vial of some deep red liquid caught her attention, though. She remembered one of her nights spent in the trainees’ barracks.
“Annie, you have such nice hands…” Mina had told her that night, holding Annie’s hand in her own to trace her palm and toy with her fingers. What exactly that was supposed to mean, Annie wasn’t sure, so she answered with a confused, “thanks?”
Mina just laughed and continued playing with her hand. Other girls were talking quietly amongst themselves as well, sometimes bursting into quiet giggles. Laughter still came so easily then, when they were still far from graduating. Real combat was not yet a reality to most of them.
“I bet you’d look so pretty with painted nails…” The girl mused out loud, flipping Annie’s hand over to look at her nails. She quickly added, “well, extra pretty, I mean!”
“Painted?” It was a concept Annie was only vaguely aware of. She stared at her hand and mumbled, “what purpose would that serve?”
“Well, you know, to look nice. My mom used to help my paint my nails sometimes, when I was little. It’s just fun.” The girl smiled and laced her fingers between Annie’s. “It’s pretty rare to find anything fancy like nail polish outside Wall Sina…but if I ever get my hands on some, would you let me paint your nails, Annie?”
Even if she’d wanted to say no, she wasn’t sure it was possible to do such a thing when Mina’s eyes lit up like that. Pointless as it seemed, it didn’t sound unpleasant. She remembered feeling sleepy, but so warm and content with Mina’s hand clasped around her own as she nodded and mumbled, “okay.”
She picked up the vial and examined it briefly, no real signs of interest on her face. Her eyes flicked back to the merchant. “Just this. How much?”
The woman behind the stall blinked in surprise, then hurriedly began flipping through a small notebook. Judging by the amount of wares still sitting out, she hadn’t made many sales that day…so Annie pulled a satchel from her coat pocket and dropped it on the table. It landed with a heavy clink, and a few coins spilled out.
“That enough?” Annie didn’t so much as bat an eyelash at the pouch, while the child peered at it with wide eyes. Even being a supposed luxury item, her offer appeared to be a bit excessive…
“This is…far too much, I couldn’t accept - ”
In no mood for arguing nor plucking through coins, Annie simply walked away, ignoring the flustered protests. As she ran a thumb over the glass vial, she sighed. She just wanted to do something nice. Wanted to do something Mina would have told her was nice. And if she were to be completely honest, wanted to feel some kind of warm fuzzy feeling for her act of charity. She still felt empty.
Upon returning home to her quiet, empty little room, Annie took the vial from her pocket. She stared at her fingers, then back at it...she wondered how exactly one was supposed to apply the paint, until she uncapped the container and found that attached to the stopper was a crude little brush. Simple enough, or so she thought. While painting the nails of her left hand she found that the bristles of the brush would sometimes fan too far, smearing onto her skin or leave uneven and lumpy streaks on her nails. The task proved to be more frustrating than anything. She wondered what exactly was supposed to be fun about any of it.
Once finished, Annie set the vial aside – it rolled across her nightstand and left red dribbles across it. She didn’t really care enough to wipe it up, instead splaying her fingers and staring down at the fresh coat of paint on her nails. Some of it wound up on her skin as well…perhaps it was just the shade of red, but it seemed a gruesome sight. It felt messy. Pointless. Empty. Maybe it would have been prettier if Mina had done it. The thought brought a bitter smirk to her lips, and she whispered quietly to herself,
“I still don’t get it, Mina.”