The Calm Before The Storm

I woke to the sound of breathing. Not the distant, haunting kind that echoed through the halls sometimes, but something closer. Something more human. Steady. Aeris.

I didn’t mean to fall asleep. One moment I was asking her if I’d fail, and the next… darkness. She never answered. Or maybe she did, and I dreamed right through it.

The stone ceiling never changed, yet somehow I could tell it was morning.

A soft hum buzzed in the walls, like the prison was stretching, shaking off dreams I didn’t want to know about. The shadows clung to the corners differently than they did at night, watchful now instead of waiting.

I couldn’t see her, but I knew she was awake. There was a kind of silence that only came when Aeris was thinking. Still. Listening.

I could sense she wasn't exactly meditating, just... present in a way that made you feel like the prison was holding its breath with her.

I didn’t want to disturb her. Thankfully she spoke first.

“How did you sleep?”

Her voice had changed. Not by tone, it was still calm, smooth, thoughtful, but something in it had dropped. Some layer of false gentleness, peeled away.

“Like a rock,” I replied, rubbing my eyes. “One that got thrown down a well.” I tried to throw in a joke but honestly, I'm not sure why.

That earned a breath of a laugh from her. Just a breath. But I took it as a win.

She looked over her shoulder, not at me, but at the wall between us. Or maybe beyond it.

“This place doesn’t rest,” she said. “But it remembers when you do.”

That was something she had brought up before, as well as 'dreams seeping into walls' or something of the like. Either way, I was always interested in hearing what she had to say.

"I guess we ought to make our way to the dining hall for breakfast soon. Something I've wondered, is there a reason we leave five minutes early?"

Despite having a feeling tell me this was going to be a sensitive subject, my curiosity has always gotten the better of me, but strangely I added

"I know you said something about the guards not liking stragglers but I'm not sure if there's some sort of secret rule book to follow, or if it's just something you do in particular."

I gave her a way out in case she wasn't ready to drop another revelation about herself, but I'm not sure if I would be happy if she were to take that way out.

Before she gave an answer, I heard her getting up from the floor. I took that as a que to get ready to leave as well.

As we headed out on our journey through the hallways, the soft rhythm of their footsteps echoed against the cold stone halls, like they were walking through the lungs of something long asleep.

Eventually, she said, “He hated being late.”

Her tone didn’t carry much weight. Just fact. Distant.

“I never made him do it,” she continued, “but he’d always show up five minutes early. Said it was the only way to make sure he wouldn’t disappoint anyone. He carried a lot more guilt than he let on.”

A pause.

“I guess... it stuck with me.”

That was all.

She didn’t slow, didn’t look at me as she spoke, she didn’t need to. The rest of the walk passed in a silence neither heavy nor awkward, just... shared.

After breakfast, I found myself wandering the same corridors again, still tasting her answer in the back of my mind like tea left out too long.

He hated being late.

There hadn’t been anything dramatic about the way she said it. No tremble in her voice. No sigh. Just a memory, placed gently between us.

Maybe that’s why it stuck. It wasn’t heavy. It was quiet. Real.

It was the first time she’d ever talked about her student without flinching, without trying to soften the edges or apologize for the shape of it. And somehow, that made it sit deeper in me than anything else she’d said.

I didn’t know what I felt about it, and I didn’t try to figure it out.

I let the thought drift to some quiet place in the back of my mind and just kept walking.

It was easier that way.

We tried to clock into work but it slipped both our minds that we don't work always and that yesterday we were called off.

Even though we walked back to our cells together, something made me feel like I was alone. I looked down for a moment and she was gone.

"Guess that girl just walks faster than me." I agreed to that sentiment to push past it.

When I got back to the cell block, Aeris was already waiting, legs tucked beneath her, hair pulled back in that half-casual, half-perfect way she always seemed to manage. She didn’t look tired, not exactly. But there was something in her shoulders that felt… unguarded. Less like armor, and more like a person.

She looked up as I approached.

“Do you normally walk slow?” she asked, tone light.

“Yeah. It lets me conserve my energy for when I have to do a lot of nothing later in the day.” I gave her a faint smile. “My parents were amazing people.”

She huffed through her nose—half-laugh, half-sigh. “And yet, they raised a convicted felon”

“What can I say,” I said, dropping down to sit near the wall between us. “The company’s not bad.”

That got her to smile. A real one. Small, but real.

I let the silence stretch between us, not heavy like it used to be, just still. Comfortable.

Eventually, I broke it.

“So, uh... I’ve been meaning to ask something,” I started, keeping my tone casual. “I know I always pester you about the prison, or what exactly our role is here, but I realized I don’t actually know you.”

“Mm,” she hummed. “You’ve asked plenty.”

“Asked,” I said. “Not heard. There’s a difference.” I wasn't going to argue about how I don't really remember asking anything, I cared less about that and more about this.

A beat passed. Then another.

Just when I thought she might shut me down, she said, “Let’s try something different.”

That got my attention.

“You talk,” she said gently. “For once.”

I blinked. “Me?”

“Mmhm. Tell me something small. Something pointless. What were you like before all this?”

I didn’t know why it caught me off guard, maybe because I’d expected another one of her riddles centered around the prison or some quiet musings. Not this.

Not… her wanting to know me.

Not as a case. Not as a cellmate.

As a friend.

“So… this is dumb,” I said, staring at the ceiling. “But back in middle school, I joined the cooking club.”

Aeris made a soft sound, like surprise, but the kind that could turn into teasing if you gave it permission.

“You?” she said, amused. “Cooking? From what I've seen you hardly like any food, how can one come across as picky and yet enjoy cooking?"

“I was bribed with snacks,” I replied, half joking. “One of the club leaders cornered me after school with a tray of cookies. I caved immediately. No regrets.”

“You seem the type to cave for cookies.”

“I’d cave for less. That was peak negotiation. Honestly, I think I scared her a little with how fast I said yes.”

Aeris chuckled, and I could hear the smile in her voice now. “So? Did you actually cook?”

“Oh yeah. I was terrible. There’s still a part of the science wing permanently stained by my ‘experimental omelet.’ We never talk about it.”

A pause. Then: “Define experimental.”

“It tried to escape.”

She laughed, fully, openly, and something about that sound made my chest feel weird. Like I'd just remembered how to breathe through my ribs again.

“But,” I continued, letting the smile linger, “there was this one time… I was alone in the kitchen after club hours. It was raining, everyone had already gone home, and I had this dumb idea to make yakisoba for the first time. No recipe. Just pure hubris.”

“That sounds dangerous.”

“It was,” I said solemnly. “But also… kind of magical? I don’t know. The steam, the sound of the rain, the hiss of the pan. It felt like I’d finally done something right. Like maybe I wasn’t completely useless, just… misdirected.”

Another small silence.

Aeris didn’t interrupt. She just listened.

“I sat there eating it by the window,” I went on, “watching puddles ripple on the pavement. It was warm. It tasted awful, by the way, way too much ginger, but I didn’t care. I’d made something. I’d made that moment.”

“And that’s the moment you fell in love with cooking I take it? Also why didn't try using magic for the noodles, you've clearly done it before with that omelet. As a former magic teacher, I give you full points.” She said that last part so proud fully. 

“That's not exactly right.” I paused, smile fading just a little. “There’s more to it.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah…” I swallowed. “Right after that - ”

Bzzt.
A mechanical chime echoed through the corridor like a blade drawn from a sheath.

“Inmate 10485 : Akito. Judgment proceedings commence in ten minutes. Please make your way to the designated corridor.”

The announcement faded.

My voice did too.

On the other side of the wall, Aeris didn’t speak right away. Then, soft as breath: “You can tell me the rest after.”

I nodded, even though she couldn’t see it.

And just like that, the warmth of the moment vanished, like steam rising from freshly baked pie.