Strangers

Maho lived alone in a two room flat. The living room and kitchen were connected, a faded cream colored couch positioned in front of a coffee table and a small television. Shabby curtains were pulled over the windows and the flat was bathed in white light.

Maho sat on a wheeled chair, hugging a pillow in her lap. She gestured for the others to sit on the couch, so Ukiyo did, stretching his legs out underneath the table.

“Explain,” said Maho as they all settled in.

Ukiyo was reluctant to speak, so Zero began. “I found him in the middle of a field of grass, and he said he came from outside the Boundary Lines.”

Ukiyo interrupted, “I never actually said that! I’m just not from…here.”

“Alright, I think we’ve established that,” Maho cocked her head to the side. “So then where are you from, and how do you seem to know me so…intimately?”

Ukiyo could feel his face going hot. He hoped the color didn’t betray his embarrassment. But the fact that Maho was in front of him but had no idea who he was still came as a shock.

He decided to be honest, because it was the best way they could work out what was going on. Maybe Maho knew more than he did.

“Where I come from, the sun shines yellow and the grass is green. Our trees have leaves…I mean, maybe you call those glass shards leaves, but we have leaves that are thin like paper.”

Maho placed a finger to her lips in thought. “Interesting,” she murmured, “But what about everything else? Is it just the colors that are different?”

Ukiyo shook his head. “No, we pay with coins and paper money. I hear it was outlawed here.”

“That’s true, we did pay with coins at some point,” she pulled out a copper coin from her pocket and held it out to Ukiyo, “See, I have one with me. But nowadays they’re rare and they are used to create psychic links between people.”

Ukiyo digested that.

“Look, I’ll show you. Let’s do a small experiment. Hold on to that coin and I have a second one here that I’ll hold.”

Ukiyo clutched the coin and waited for further instructions.

“...hear me, Ukiyo?” Maho said.

“Yes,” Ukiyo replied out loud, only to realize with a start that Maho’s mouth had not moved.

Zero smiled widely.

“Did you just use telepathy to talk to me?” Ukiyo gasped, “Can I do that too?”

“It’s sort of like that,” Maho acknowledged, “But you can’t do it without the brain implant that everyone here has. And it only works as long as both people are holding a coin.”

“Can you talk to anyone who has one?” Ukiyo asked, disappointed by the fact that he was unable to do something so cool.

“No, although you might sometimes be able to hear traces of people’s thoughts if you have a lot of psychic energy. Zero can,” Maho nodded towards the girl, “but she avoids touching copper for that very reason. It can be disturbing to listen to other people.”

“Wow.”

A moment of silence passed before Maho spoke again.

“Tell me more about your dimension.”

“Dimension? You mean dimensions and that stuff exists?” Ukiyo whistled.

“There’s no doubt about that,” Maho replied, “In fact, many scientists nowadays are trying to create some sort of rift in spacetime so we can enter the different worldlines.”

“Wait, you lost me. Worldlines as in dimensions or timelines?”

“Isn’t it all the same? Each Earth dimension exists on the same timeline, but the space in which they exist is slightly different. Think of it this way. There’s one rope and it is made of many threads of the same length. When you unwind the rope, the strings lie next to each other. Time passes at the same rate, but each string takes up a different area. These spaces overlap but are all parts of separate dimensions, which is why we only see one worldline at a time.”

“But how come there are more Earths?” Ukiyo asked, leaning forward, “I mean, where do all the worldlines come from?”

“One idea is that a new worldline is created every time a major decision is made that alters the course of the world. An example would be winning or losing a world war, or shutting down factories to take care of climate change. Then you are thrown off your current string and diverge onto another pathway. But the old one still exists, except there the major events conclude differently. This is just a theory though, so don’t take it to be true,” Maho said quickly.

“Then that means you’re a different Maho from the one in my world?” Ukiyo asked. This worldline stuff was pretty damn confusing, but this was one thing he wanted to know.

“No, I’m the same Maho but with different thoughts and experiences,” she corrected.

“I’m not sure I can really grasp all of this yet,” Ukiyo admitted, scratching the back of his neck.

Maho shrugged. “What I don’t understand is how you jumped from your worldline to this one. Anyway, if we talk about this any more, let’s refer to our worldlines as Alpha and Beta. Yours can be Alpha if you want, and then that makes this the Beta worldline. We don’t know which one existed first, so this will have to do.”

“You know, you’re more serious than the Maho in my world,” Ukiyo noted.

Maho blushed, jerking her head to the right. “Hey, don’t judge me based on that! This is a serious topic a-and I can be fun if I want to!”

Ah. There it was. This Maho really was the very same.

“She is, Uki!” Zero backed her up, “You should see her play with-”

“Shut up! Right now!” Maho hissed, and Zero giggled.

Ukiyo sighed, relaxing for the first time since he got here. Maho and Zero would help him get back to the Alpha dimension. Everything was fine.

But somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered what the Maho that had been his friend since middle school was doing. Did Ukiyo just vanish from that worldline? Did everyone forget he ever existed, or were there police crews looking for him while Maho stood under the picnic tree, clutching a dandelion?

“Uki, you dropped something! Ooh, what is it?” Zero pointed at the ground next to Ukiyo’s foot. There lay a cream colored scroll tied with a ribbon. The very same one he had tossed away in the shop.

How did this get here? I swear the woman placed it on the table and I didn’t touch it after that… A look of horror crossed his face. Did she somehow stuff it into his pocket? But when?

He untied the ribbon with shaking fingers and unrolled the sheet of paper.

The key to the boundary is past the gate, there is nothing to find and no way to cheat fate.

The stuff of dreams clouds like dust, there is no way out except with trust.

What you must do is open your eyes, and put an end to all the lies.

Red light, green light, now close your eyes, your feet will slide on the ice.

Flowers bloom and grow and die, here you seek the many that cry.

The worldline shatters into glass, but eventually you alone will pass.

“That looks like a poem,” Zero observed, craning to look over Ukiyo’s shoulder.

“Read it out,” said Maho, and he did. “That’s more like a prophecy, if you ask me. Where’s it from?”

Ukiyo explained exactly what had occurred before they came here, with Zero occasionally interrupting to add details or explanations.

“Looks like someone here knows you,” Maho pointed out, “And they intend for you to follow the instructions.”

“It’s just a load of words…”

Maho spun around in her chair, deep in thought. “If you read it carefully, you’ll find that each line is a very specific instruction. Although I admit most of it sounds pretty vague at first glance.”

Ukiyo’s absent gaze rested on the curtained window. A small shaft between the two pieces of fabric allowed him to see the dark sky. The crescent moon was visible, and he was pleased to see that it was white and not lilac. There was a clock on the wall directly above the window, and it read 9:33 pm.

His stomach growled, and he looked away sheepishly.

“I’m hungry,” said Zero abruptly. My thoughts exactly, thought Ukiyo.

Maho looked ashamed for a moment before she offered to check what she had. From that look, Ukiyo could tell it probably wasn’t much. The Maho from the Alpha dimension was famous for instant noodles and candybars.

She stood on her tiptoes and blindly searched the kitchen cupboards, then padded over to the others and sat on the floor, placing the items on the coffee table.

“Here are your options,” she announced, “Box ramen, cereal, or cookies.”

Figures, Ukiyo sighed, hiding a grin. “I’ll go for ramen,” he said.

“Cereal!” Zero exclaimed happily.

“For dinner?” Maho asked with a perplexed look on her face.

“Yes ma’am!” Zero jumped up and got a spoon from the kitchen.

Maho shrugged and set off to make two portions of ramen.

When they all finished eating, they took showers and Maho gave Zero some adorable unicorn pajamas to wear. She herself wore a nightgown and Ukiyo was left in his old clothes because Maho didn’t own anything in his size.

The two visitors were allowed to stay overnight, but while Zero was allowed in Maho’s bedroom, Ukiyo was banished to the couch.

“I’m insulted,” he pretended, “I thought guests were supposed to get the room.”

“Well, get used to it!” Maho countered, then shut the door in his face.

Harsh, thought Ukiyo, but he didn’t protest because he knew she was already pushing it by letting a complete stranger who claimed to know her inside her home. It wasn’t like he would do anything except sleep, but that was still a big amount of trust.

Ukiyo stretched out on the couch, his head and feet on the armrests. It was not particularly uncomfortable, but the bedsheet he was using as a blanket was so thin that it was practically just another layer of air.

He thought he’d be up for hours thinking about the peculiar events of the day, but as it turned out, all the sights had tired him out so much that he drifted off almost instantly.

The sun shone green over the sea of blue. A single dandelion bobbed in the wind. The shards of a glass tree clinked together in a peaceful symphony. Overhead, the sky rumbled and the sun hid behind thick rainclouds. Ukiyo held out a hand and felt small droplets of rain landing on his palm. Lightning flashed and struck the tree, setting it on fire. The quiet sounds of nature had progressed into a full on rage, glass shards shooting like bullets off the tree, littering the ground like bits of a smashed window. Ukiyo covered his head but the leaves sliced into his skin, leaving red splotches over his bare arms. He cried out and started running, running through the field of never ending blue. He tripped over something and fell onto the ground, then his vision went dark but his other senses were as sharp as ever. He groped around and his hand met a spherical object. It was cool to the touch but one part of it was chipped off. He tried to run, but he kept slipping and sliding on marbles. They were pouring in from everywhere, piling around his feet and then up to his stomach. He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe-!

Ukiyo was thrown back into awareness. His heart was hammering in his chest but he knew it was a dream, knew it wasn’t real. He kept his eyes closed while his breathing evened out, and let himself get slowly accustomed to the outside noises.

The sound of cars driving past drifted through the open window along with the cool morning breeze. The clock ticked rhythmically on the wall, and somewhere in the neighborhood a tea kettle whistled. The smell of confectionery and strong coffee hit his nose at the same time, and he grimaced. As he pulled the blanket tighter around himself, he also became increasingly aware of a quiet presence in the room.

Ukiyo hazarded a look and sat up abruptly, his head spinning in protest. Maho was sitting on her wheelie chair across from him, nibbling on a sugar coated donut.

“You drool in your sleep,” Maho commented.

“What’s everyone’s deal with watching me sleeping?!” Ukiyo shouted, patting his hair down so it didn’t stick up all over the place.

Maho lowered her eyes and blushed, caught off guard. “Look, it’s not my fault that you’re sleeping in my living room!”

“It kind of is,” Ukiyo muttered, stretching his arms.

“Here,” Maho tossed him a shopping bag that hit him square in the face.

Inside was a change of clothes alongside a greasy bag of donuts. Not a good combo.

“You better thank me,” Maho crossed her arms in disdain, “You don’t know how long it took me to find those.”

“Thanks,” Ukiyo nodded, not in the mood to start a squabble. He reminded himself that he should be eternally grateful for all the help, although it was a little hard to be when he was always woken by a face staring at him.

He glanced over at the clock, watching the seconds tick by. It was 7:23 AM.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you…” Maho started, her hands fiddling absently with the folds of her sweater. “I looked at the scroll again and analyzed the prophecy. I think I understand most of it, so I can tell you if you want.”

“Sure. Anything to help me get back,” Ukiyo replied.

“Okay. It talks about several locations that I pinpointed on a map,” she handed him a map with some black circles drawn on using a sharpie.

What had she been doing all night? Ukiyo thought. Where did she find the time to go shopping and do all this?

“The first line is pretty vague so I’ll leave it for last. The second one says, ‘the stuff of dreams clouds like dust, there is no way out except with trust’. This could be a long shot, but judging by the structure of the poem and the other lines, I’d safely say this refers to a location. I found only one good match in the area,” she placed a finger at the first dot. “There’s a beach here, with small-grained white sand that looks like stardust. I’m not sure what it means by ‘no way out’, but I think we’ll find out if we go there.”

While she talked, Ukiyo looked at Maho from the corner of his eye. Although he hadn’t noticed before because she usually looked a little disheveled, he saw that her hair stuck up at odd angles and she was blinking too frequently, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

“The third line still refers to the previous location, I think. The message is pretty clear, so I’ll go on to the fourth. ‘Red light, green light, now close your eyes, your feet will slide on the ice.’ There are a few regions that could work, but I’m going for the mountains. It took a while to decide, but I think the light literally refers to traffic lights. The mountain range over there has an old supplyline for hikers that used to transport medicine and materials. There’s a set of lights over there.”

“It seems like a bit of a stretch, but I’ll take it. What about the next part? ‘Flowers bloom and grow and die, here you seek the many that cry’? Is it a meadow or some type of a garden?”

“There’s a place literally called The Garden. That’s where most of the dandelions are grown,” Maho explained. “I don’t know yet, but it seems like a likely spot. Still, flowers grow all over the place so we can’t go on just that.”

“The Alpha equivalent of The Garden would probably be a bank, then,” said Ukiyo, “We hold money in banks.”

Maho recited the final line: “‘The worldline shatters into glass, but eventually you alone will pass.’ This isn’t very detailed, but I think it refers to your trip home. You alone can get past the boundary lines. But I can’t shake the feeling that this part brings about something terrible,” she finished her donut, licking icing off her fingers. She crumbled the bag into a tight paper ball and tossed it at the trash can. It missed, hitting the wall and rolling onto the floor.

Ukiyo had to admit that the line did have an ominous feeling to it. The worldline shatters into glass. That sounds like the Beta Dimension will cease to exist.

After a few moments of silence, Maho returned to the text.

“Going back to the first line, I don’t think it takes place at the beginning of the prophecy at all. Listen: ‘The key to the boundary is past the gate, there is nothing to find and no way to cheat fate.’”

Ukiyo considered. “Maybe it’s about the entire journey. It seems like it’s giving a heads up on how to cross the boundary lines. But that happens at the end, right?

“Maybe,” Maho agreed, sounding a little uncertain. She climbed off the chair and went to the kitchen area, grabbing a half-empty pot of brown stuff and pouring it in a mug. Ukiyo caught a waft of strong coffee and wrinkled his nose. The smell pierced straight into his brain.

Maho stood on her tiptoes and groped around the overhead cupboards, then hopped on one foot, trying to reach a jar of sugar.

Ukiyo walked over to her and easily plucked the jar from the shelf, placing it on the counter in front of Maho.

“Thanks,” she murmured, cheeks flushed unmistakably pink.

“Should you be drinking coffee at this age? It stunts your growth,” Ukiyo frowned as Maho spooned cubes of sugar into her mug.

“I’m eighteen!” she snapped, stomping back to the living room, “And you’re still seventeen, am I right?”

Ukiyo’s smile wilted.

“How did you know that? I never told you how old I was.”

Maho stood stock still, knuckles turning white as she gripped her mug.

“You must have,” she said eventually, “But even then it’s really fifty-fifty. Only students who were held back a year are older and you’re obviously no genius who skipped a grade.”

Ukiyo couldn’t even recall telling her that he went to school with her in the Alpha Worldline. Momentary dizziness gripped him and he steadied himself using the couch.

He watched Maho from behind the curtain of haze. His ears were ringing again, but he registered the sound of a door opening and closing.

“Morning, Maho and Uki!” Zero said cheerfully, still dressed in unicorn pajamas. She rubbed bleary eyes and yawned widely. Maho yawned in reflex.

“Maho, are you going to the lab today?” Zero asked, hopping on the couch next to Ukiyo.

“Yeah,” she replied, rubbing an eye with her knuckle. “I can’t miss any more days or they’ll kick me out with steel toed boots.”

“What about school?” Ukiyo asked abruptly.

“School? Oh, I finished school two years ago. I work at the neuroscience institute now,” said Maho, matter-of-factly.

Ukiyo had been afraid that school didn’t even exist here, but it seemed like it did.

“What about you, Zero?”

“I’m not registered,” she replied with a pinch of sadness. “I can’t because then the dogs would find me, you know.”

So she’s like a fugitive? Do they really want her this badly? What about her parents?

“Ukiyo, come with me to the lab!” Maho demanded suddenly, surprising Ukiyo.

“Sure, but why?” he wondered out loud.

“Urgh…you’ll see,” Maho groaned.

Ukiyo changed in the bathroom, noting with displeasure that the shirt hung loosely on his frame and the pants would have benefited from a touchup. They looked like they were from the twentieth century.

Maho opened the door and tossed something white at him. “You’re gonna need this,” she said.

“Y-aaargh!” Ukiyo exclaimed, leaping behind the door, “What the heck?! I’m changing!”

“I know,” Maho called from outside the now - thankfully - closed door.

“Do I have to stay here again?” he heard Zero ask quietly.

“Yes,” Maho answered, “But we’ll be back by lunch, don’t worry.”

Ukiyo put on the white lab coat Maho had thrown at him. The sleeves didn’t cover his wrists; not even close! It also made him feel a little silly, like he was a child playing dress-up.

Mommy, I wanna be a scientist! Pwease mommy, I wan’ a microscope!