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Today was a day like any other day.
The squawking birds knew this too, flying in their usual formation overhead, their silhouettes outlined by the sun emerging from the horizon. Rodion knew this too, yet there is a nagging feeling resting at the bottom of her throat; an occasional twist of the stomach to remind her.
From a faraway earshot – because nothing runs away from Rodion! – she’d overheard the day before about how the sinners were planning something for her. After piecing together the fragments of their ‘hidden’ conversation, she promised herself they wouldn’t get the last laugh. She’d hide as soon as she woke up.
Of course, the poor girl couldn’t sleep. Her room was enclosed in a crueller frost. A chilly wind shook from underneath her thin sheets, leaving a trail of goosebumps and gluing her eyelids wide open. She was a shivering mess by 11, almost reminding her of a familiar home… almost reminding her of a familiar date. When the cold was too unbearable, Rodion crept into the bus’ hallway and walked along the pathway of darkness until she found herself outside. The bus had a break for the night, stopping in the middle of the journey to N Corp; Rodion found a way onto the roof of the bus.
The view was nothing spectacular – nothing but towering trees swaying gently to a kinder breeze with the purple sky adopting a hint of orange. In a way, they reminded her of the trees in the forest where they met Dante, in their first mission, which defined the way she would live in the next few years. A life where she learned to love to bask in its warmth. A warmth she repeatedly shines out so that her ice doesn’t melt. Into the cold, she ‘adores’, embracing her in its cold that tightens her skin and mind – almost like preserving her as raw meat.
Like how today is like any other.
A bottle of beer found itself between Rodion’s fingers. With a pop, the lid comes flying off, thudding across the metal roof. Below, beams of light reflect onto the ground through the windows, followed by the sound of people murmuring and shoes scrambling. They probably noticed she wasn’t in her room, which, admittedly, brought Rodion a light feeling in her stomach. It was immediately replaced with a sensation of her stomach turning when the columns of light floated Rodion to a lost memory that occurred on this specific day. A sensation so strong, she lifted the rim of the beer and began to chug the bitter liquid down her throat; some sinners exit the bus. Her mind drifted between a screen of clouds, beer sliding down her lips. Looking at the trees again, they almost look like servants to Rodion, willing to bend and break at her command.
A sudden dash of wind breaks her thoughts, carrying a new memory of a certain white-haired boy… She took another swing.
But the memory doesn’t go away; a blurry image of him- he slid his freezing hands onto her cheeks and whispered a mumbled message into her ear.
Though by sound alone, she knows who he is – a memory too painful to unbury… though she thinks of him all the time. In a desperate attempt to forget, Rodion shoves the rim of the bottle too far into her throat, which in turn causes her to gag and cough louder than intended.
Before going silent almost immediately, she looks downwards to see if anyone heard. The entire bus was looking straight at her.
“Looks like we found her," Ishmael called out.