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“Jan,” you say quietly as the young man is rising to his feet. He pauses, glancing back to you with an unspoken question in his eyes. It's too late to turn back now, you realise, and take the only path left open to you – to press on ahead. “My father died recently,” you continue, silently amazed at how bland and flat those words sound. You could be passing comment on a mildly interesting piece of trivia, and nothing more.
Flat and bland as they may be, your words have an undeniable impact on Jan. So much, in fact, that it's almost comical. His eyes swell wide and white, while his lips flap like a beached fish. “Shit,” he blurts out at last, immediately covering his gaping mouth with his hands and flushing red. “I mean, that's... are you okay?” he adds quickly, “Are you... was it... Is there anything I can do?”
“Not really. I don't think there's anything that anyone can do,” you pause, “Considering that he's dead.”
Jan frowns a little at this, at the flippant tone in your voice. “I'm sorry,” he says after a while, “Here I am, yapping about my own family while you... I'm sorry.”
“There's no need. I feel... fine,” you assure him, turning to look up at the Godhead monolith, “But I felt like I needed to tell someone, anyone, or it was going to get me in some real trouble.”
He nods wordlessly, no doubt thinking of the earlier brawl.
“Of course, I'm telling you this in confidence,” you continue, “This isn't just some common gossip.”
“Of course, of course,” he promises, adjusting his glasses, “Um, if you don't mind me asking. Do you... know-”
“I know nothing,” you cut him off, “Not yet, at least. But I hope to get some answers one way or the other.”
“I hope you do,” Jan says softly, more talking to himself than to you, “...Not knowing is the hardest part.”
-
Week's end comes all too quickly, and with it the foreboding sense of arrival. But some of the dark clouds have seemed to lift from your thoughts. Maybe sharing your secret with Jan was more valuable than you thought. It's easier to look your fellow students in the eye and keep up the act, and your terrible thoughts have shown no sign of resurfacing since then.
Wearing your very best uniform, you descend to the main hall and spot the dark phantom that is Sakhalin standing perfectly still by the entrance. He doesn't seem to have changed a bit since you last saw him, no more than you might expect a statue to change. You stand watching him for a long moment, while he pretends not to notice you.
“Bard!” Daniel calls out, waving for you to join him by one of the side passages. When you shake your head, he frowns and hurries over to join you instead. “Not coming to class today?” he asks, “Because I've got class, and I really need someone to help me stay awake.”
“Try that famous iron Teilhard will,” you suggest, nodding to where Sakhalin waits, “I seem to have another appointment.”
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