Sparks of Understanding

The sun was already high, casting long shadows over the mountains of rusted metal and broken machinery that made up the junkyard. Zane winced as he stretched, his bruised ribs protesting against even the slightest movement. The fresh morning air was doing him some good, though the ache in his body was a constant reminder of the previous day’s events.

Kira, on the other hand, was a ball of energy. She moved through the junkyard like a child exploring a new playground, picking up random objects and tossing them aside when they failed to hold her interest.

Zane leaned against a stack of old tyres, watching her with a mix of amusement and confusion. “You really know how to keep busy, don’t you?”

“Of course!” Kira called back, her voice cheerful. “Life’s too short to be boring.”

Zane rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. It was strange how easily her carefree attitude clashed with the chaos in his own mind.

Before he could respond, a loud crash echoed from outside the apartment they’d stopped in for the night. Zane jolted upright, his body instinctively tensing as he rushed toward the door.

“Kira!”

When he reached the source of the noise, he froze. There, standing proudly, was Kira, grinning from ear to ear in front of what could only be described as a makeshift catapult made from scrap parts.

A tin can soared through the air, arching high before disappearing somewhere in the distance.

Zane stared at her, dumbfounded. “Really? A catapult?”

“Why not?” Kira shot back, looking entirely pleased with herself. “Junkyards are so underrated! Besides, you said you were going to meet someone later. Figured I’d pass the time.”

Despite himself, Zane chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re a strange one, Kira.”

“Strange is just another word for fun!” she declared, shrugging. “You’re way too stiff, you know. You need to let loose a little.”

Zane smirked, crossing his arms. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

He checked his phone, noting the time: 11:45 a.m. Kimiko had sent a text earlier asking if they were still on for dinner at 6 p.m. He was already dreading the conversation. How could he possibly explain the bruises and his absence yesterday?

“Everything okay?” Kira asked, her voice pulling him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah, just—” Zane hesitated, pocketing his phone. “I’ve got a date tonight. Kimiko. We’re supposed to meet at 6, but I’m not sure how I’m going to explain all of this.” He gestured vaguely to his battered appearance.

Kira’s eyes lit up with mischievous excitement. “Ooh, Kimiko! Are you finally going to introduce me? This is going to be so much fun!”

Zane gave her a sideways glance, already regretting his decision to bring it up. “Yeah, but try not to scare her off. You’ve got a… well, an interesting way of doing things.”

“What? I’m delightful!” she protested, giving him an exaggerated look of innocence.

Zane chuckled, shaking his head. “Sure you are.”

They began walking toward the edge of the junkyard, the sunlight streaming through gaps in the towering piles of scrap. Zane glanced at Kira, her carefree energy contagious but also perplexing.

“Kira,” he said suddenly, his tone more serious.

“Yeah?”

“About this essence thing… You said I had potential, but you also said it’s dangerous. What did you mean by that?”

Kira stopped in her tracks, her grin fading as she turned to face him. For a moment, she seemed to weigh her words carefully.

“Essence is power,” she began, her tone more serious than he’d ever heard it. “But it’s not like regular energy. It’s alive, chaotic, and it changes depending on the person using it. Most people can’t even tap into it, let alone control it. And you…” She hesitated, her gaze sharp and calculating. “You’re different, Zane. You’ve got more essence than most people ever will. But that also makes you dangerous—to others and to yourself.”

Zane felt a chill run down his spine. “What happens if I can’t control it?”

Kira’s expression darkened. “You’ve seen it already, haven’t you? That surge of power, the way it takes over? If you lose control, it’ll consume you. And if that happens…” She trailed off, her meaning clear.

Zane swallowed hard, the weight of her words pressing heavily on him. “Then teach me. I don’t want to keep stumbling through this blind.”

Kira studied him for a long moment before nodding. “Alright. But don’t say I didn’t warn you—it’s not gonna be easy.”

Zane managed a weak smile. “Wouldn’t expect anything less.”

The two of them continued walking, the distant city skyline coming into view as they reached the edge of the junkyard. Zane’s phone buzzed again, and he pulled it out to see another message from Kimiko.

K: Don’t forget! 6 p.m. at Spicy Haven. Can’t wait to see you!

Kira peeked over his shoulder, a teasing grin spreading across her face. “Spicy Haven, huh? Sounds fun. You nervous?”

Zane pocketed the phone, ignoring the question. “Just don’t make this harder than it already is, okay?”

Kira laughed, clearly enjoying his discomfort. “Relax! I’ll be on my best behaviour. Probably.”

As they walked further from the junkyard, Zane couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off about Kira—not just her eccentricity, but something deeper. Her sudden shifts in energy and demeanour were unlike anything he’d encountered before.

“Kira,” he said carefully, glancing at her.

“Hmm?” She didn’t stop walking, her eyes scanning their surroundings with that same carefree energy.

“There’s something I don’t get about you.”

She turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “Oh? What’s that?”

Zane hesitated, unsure how to phrase it without offending her. “The way you… change. One second, you’re like this hyper ball of energy, and the next, you’re dead serious, like a completely different person. What’s the deal with that?”

Kira stopped walking and tilted her head, giving him a thoughtful look. Then, as if it were the simplest thing in the world, she tapped the side of her head and made a spinning motion with her finger.

“D.I.D. Dissociative Identity Disorder. You know, the fun kind of baggage.”

Zane blinked, caught off guard by her bluntness. “Wait… you’re serious?”

“Yep!” she said with a grin, her tone light but her eyes hinting at something deeper. “Two personalities, one body. It’s like a permanent roommate situation, except one of us is more fun, and the other is all business.”

“That explains… a lot,” Zane muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Hey, I don’t bite!” Kira teased, leaning closer. “Well, this version of me doesn’t, anyway.”

“Good to know,” Zane said, managing a small smile. But as he looked at her, a pang of guilt tugged at him. “That must be hard, though. Living like that.”

Kira shrugged, her grin softening into something more reflective. “It’s not as bad as it sounds. We’ve learnt to live with each other. And hey, it keeps things interesting, right?”

Zane frowned, his curiosity getting the better of him. “What’s the other… version of you like?”

“Oh, she’s a real buzzkill,” Kira said with a dramatic sigh. “Super serious, all about survival and logic. Don’t get me wrong—she’s useful in a fight, but she’s got the personality of a wet mop.”

Zane chuckled despite himself. “Sounds… complicated.”

“Complicated is just another word for fun,” Kira said, winking at him. But there was something in her expression—something vulnerable, hidden just beneath the surface.

They walked in silence for a while, the conversation hanging in the air. Zane couldn’t help but wonder how much of Kira’s carefree attitude was real and how much of it was a mask.

Finally, he broke the silence. “Thanks for telling me. I mean, you didn’t have to, but… I appreciate it.”

Kira shot him a sideways glance, her grin returning. “Don’t get all mushy on me now, Zane. We’ve got a date to crash, remember?”

Zane groaned, his hand dragging down his face. “It’s not your date, Kira. Just… let me handle this, okay? I already have enough to explain to Kimiko without you making things worse.”

“No promises!” Kira sang, skipping ahead of him.

Zane sighed, shaking his head as he followed her. Despite her antics, there was something about Kira that made the chaos feel… manageable. Maybe, just maybe, this strange partnership could work.