My Normal Life Now Has Normality Again

Somehow nothing changed.

Tama’s house, freezing her warm heart solid the second she stepped inside—she thought it might’ve gotten colder, even a little, but…no, nothing changed. Even for the worse.

Though she hoped for the better.

She sighed and shrugged her bag to the floor, leaving all her belongings abandoned as she trudged over to the cough and collapsed. Sarine turned a light on, then the TV, filling the room with the dim buzz of a news program, variety show—something or other.

“You wanna eat yet?” Sarine said, hands on her hips. “C’mon, you haven’t had any dinner. I can probably sneak by the convenience store and drop money off.”

Tama shook her head, pushing herself up. “There’s no way you’re getting away with that shit. Come on, let’s go together. First, though, I’m leaving the heater on. I’m not coming back to a fridge again.”

Sarine didn’t argue. One trip later, Tama feasted on a mild plate of curry while watching a game show. Another night, same as always—

Her phone buzzed. Sarine rushed to check first, smiling in relief at who it was. “It’s not your parents,” she said, and only then Tama dared to see for herself.

‘How is everything? If anything strange happens let me know ASAP.’ A string of emojis followed—though it wasn’t the first time Chiho texted her with such concerns. She did so the second Tama stepped onto the train platform, and likely she’d continue to do that until school came around the next day.

But she’d be fine. In truth, she was kind of used to it. And it wasn’t like she was left in silence anymore—Sarine hovered nearby, picking at a meal of her own. Maybe it wasn’t a delicious home cooked meal like what the pair shared with Chiho, but it was better than nothing.

Better than—

Well. Getting kicked out.

Tama fired off a quick reassurance and put her phone aside. Focused on her food, trudged to her room to finish her homework. All the while, Sarine never shut up.

In the best way possible—sometimes. Giving her advice on her homework and helping with chores, up until night carried them both into sleep. Tama assembled Sarine a bed using some scarves, nothing as good as the cushy futon Chiho loaned out, but Sarine insisted it was actually pretty comfortable.

The next day onward Sarine snuck into school via bag and stayed there until lunch, where Chiho nabbed Tama and dragged her to the most abandoned, rusted over bathroom on campus. Sarine flew out of Tama’s bag, and Chiho stared.

“Oh—you brought her with you?”

Tama looked around. “Why? Is it weird?”

“Um…” Chiho brought her hands close; she hadn’t brought her bag along. “Lavi doesn’t like coming to school with me. She said faeries need to sleep in or their wings start falling off.”

“…Hasn’t she gone out early with us before?” Sarine said. “Sounds like someone’s just lazy.”

Chiho frowned, kneading her hands together. When she didn’t respond, Sarine sighed. “Sorry,” she said. “It doesn’t matter. I wanted to come along just in case anything weird happened, but I’m probably worrying over nothing. Maybe we’re…all worrying too much.”

“Unless we get a new weird thing on top of the weird stuff we’re dealing with,” Tama grumbled, and Sarine hit her on the head for it.

A rustle—Chiho scrunched her skirt up in her hands before she let go. “Uhm, I really really hope we don’t have to deal with more. The Nacht are focused on me because I’m the only one capable of purifying them. Or, at least, the technique to do so has been in my family, and it’s not something just anyone can replicate…but! Not to say I couldn’t be replaced, but—!! It’s already a lot to handle…I don’t even want to think about worse.”

“Me neither,” Tama said and shook her head. “So let’s like, not. Focus on the Nacht thing, if anyone tries to stick their ugly head in our business then we’ll get Society Prime to do something about it.”

Chiho crossed her arms. “Right. I’m sorry, I don’t want to make things harder for you both…just, well, if anyone saw your strange displays of magic, then they might—um…”

“We know,” Sarine said, patting Chiho on the head. “Thanks for worrying about us, but it’ll be fine. Just have some faith, ‘k?”

Tama nodded. Chiho calmed down, eventually.

And so her boring life tottered on. They left school, and Tama opted to skip on visiting Chiho so she could get home before dark and stick it to her neighbor that she didn’t run away.

From there, another dinner, another cold night. Somewhat less lonely, and this time, Tama busted out the sewing kit and spent the scant hour she had after homework making a tiny pillow for Sarine. The two dozed off early.

A bit too early for silence.

Tama’s phone buzzed. She fell asleep with the thing in her hands, so the simple jolt roused her. She rubbed the sleepiness out of her eyes, fumbling with the screen and almost denying the call coming through. It seemed to be from her mother—so the caller ID said. She picked it up, of course.

Her parents usually never called her directly. They left messages for the neighbor to pass on. You could say this was out of apathy, and in part, it was, but it was also due to timezones. Neither parent wanted to wake their daughter up several times a night unless it was an emergency, and there hadn’t been one of those in years. So their messages waited. So Tama waited.

Tama waited, on every other night. She listened to the phone call. Every word weighed in her mind; Sarine slept peacefully, unknowing, as Tama trembled, as the phone dropped, hit the floor the second the call ended.

She threw herself into her pillow, desperate to shrug off the horrible words rattling in her brain. Tama just needed some sleep—some sleep to keep the tears away. Everything would be different, but maybe it’d be fine.

Maybe Tama’d like the change, moving to be with her parents.

Maybe. But probably not.

These fears stuck to her brain, seeped into her being, and as sleep—no, as a horrible nightmare took root, the shadow of a girl stood over her, hand clenched into a fist.

As it unfurled, it revealed its great treasure: a small black seed-like object, glowing violet as it drifted down, down, into the deepest recesses of Tama’s consciousness.