Lunch Panic

Ventilation wiring.

Cold dust particles.

A snoring child, awaking to an empty forensics junior lab.

Panicked, Miteki Bless stumbled onto her feet.

The palpitations coursing through her felt like she'd suddenly been pushed into a fighting ring.

Her ears were blinded with nonsensical frequencies, her steps forward blind and mute. Every shakey step bumped into something, every shakey step nearly tripped. She subconsciously wiped the drool that was drying on her mouth.

A couple steps down the stairs and she lost her balance.

She rolled down the stairs, crashing into the lectern. Gasping like a fish out of water, the wind inside was blown out, flowing through her guts. Saliva flopped onto the floor, dying as they fizzled out into the dirt and grime.

Miteki Bless got up, numbly, she limped to the door.

She had been left alone in the lab.

Her opening the door brought a gust of motivation that initially wasn't there.

She walked faster and faster, dragged her legs faster and faster, lifted them higher and higher, breaking out into a sprint towards her locker.

One flight of stairs. Two flight of stairs and she was up on the first floor.

The halls were empty with the exception of two teachers talking in a doorway on the far right.

As she zoomed past them, she recognized not one face.

She slammed her finger into the passcode. Her trembling hand repeatedly dialed in the wrong number. She gave up and took out her school id, stuffed inside her breast pocket.

She slid the id against the electric lock, and erratically pulled the door open.

Bang!

The frequency in her ears returned. It felt as though they were bleeding, blood leaking through them. Far from the truth, her ears were extra sensitive after her nap.

Miteki Bless desperately needed to find out what time it was, to dispel thoughts of two of her biggest nightmares happening in a row.

The first one had already happened, she woke up alone.

She rarely overslept the class' duration. She woke up prism and proper to await her mother's call at lunch. She sat with no one, kept company by her mom's voice forlorn in a neighboring city.

How many times does she need to experience being alone in one day?

There was a common saying, peering in the depths of her mind.

"I am never alone, surrounded by many people. But I always feel so lonely. That's why cities feel so miserable compared to a forest."

Miteki shoved her entire body inside her locker, miserably searching for her phone.

Her fingers touched it, the case feeling like a beetle's back. The texture was the exact same.

She checked the time, her benevolent goal.

It was still lunch. 11:09 AM.

Miteki Bless cried tears of joy on the spot. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

The tears streaming down her cheeks made her feel like she was being rained down on indoors.

So cold. So gentle. Her tears were kissing her.

It was easy to confuse the human experience for the experience of a smaller existence.

But if you were those tears, as small as they were, how far away would you be?

If Miteki Bless looked in a mirror right now, she wouldn't consider the distance between her tears far apart.

The view changes when she's as small as those tears, as far as those tears.

From a larger perspective, those tears are close to each other.

From the tears and their smaller perspectives, they wouldn't reach each other even after a century.

From the world's perspective, didn't humans look foolish? Being so close to each other, yet completely missing each other in reach?

Her mother in another city was far away.

Next to her from the world's eyes.

Then, applying that perspective, she was the school.

She understood no one, and no one could understand her.

Finishing up thoroughly washing her face in the bathroom, Miteki Bless let her skin air dry.

She let the outdoor school air blow away the wetness of her face as she called her mom in two clicks.

Five rings before her mother answered.

"Bless, are you okay? You're calling later than usual!"

Her mother's concerned voice almost made her cry again.

She gave a pitiful laugh. Miteki Amafuu heard it, choosing to give her daughter space.

Sometimes, they'd call each other and stay there in silence.

Knowing the person was on the other side of the line was warmth.

Miteki Bless leaned against a tree, sliding down it.

Her face was red, frowning and pouty, eyes glossy beneath the clouds and glass sky.

The sky reflected in her eyes looked as if it might shatter at any moment.

Miteki Amafuu leaned against the wall in her office.

Her chair was behind her desk, yet, she sat on the dusty floor with half a hard glove still on, rumpled up slightly above her wrist.

She slid down slightly, her lips pouty too.

Her daughter being sad would make her sad as well.

She couldn't enjoy her day without knowing her pride and joy was enjoying hers, no matter the distance between them. That was the secret behind the reason she called and expected a call everyday.

"Ma!"

"Bless…"

"Mama, I miss you."

"Are you okay? What happened today?"

"Mama, I love you."

"Are you outside? Is it cold where you are? I can hear you shivering."

"Mama, you know you mean the world to me."

"Dear? Can you hear me?"

Bless wouldn't talk to her no matter what she said.

An unresponsive, talkative body.

"Bless, I don't know what do with you…"

Miteki Bless and her tears, Bless and her tears, her tears and her mother's voice.

The salty blur fogged up her world.

If it was spring, why did its winds feel like fall?

"Ma, don't die."

"Ma, I need you."

"Bless, I need you too…" The hospital's Wi-Fi wasn't up to maintenance.

Her connection cut.

Oddly, that was the thing Bless heard during this conversation: "Bless, I—"

A stutter.

"Mama, I used to think I was cursed."

"That I was a cursed existence."

"… Everyday I wake up, I'm aware of how lucky I am to have you as my mother. Because of you, I think I can live up to my name, really."

"Mama, you've blessed me with an amazing existence."

"I… love you, my dearest Bless."

Her words didn't stutter.