The next day, Noah couldn't bring himself to get out of bed. After a peaceful sleep, his body had lost all its exhaustion, yet he still felt worn out and broken. No matter how hard he tried to cheer himself up, it was impossible.
It reminded him of the old days. The never-ending weakness. Unthinkable that he had come all this way, only to end up in the same condition again.
How was it going to turn out this time? Was history going to repeat itself, or was there no such thing as a never-ending cycle?
Thinking about the change, Noah couldn't help but shiver. Change always had a cost.
He summoned the screen and stared at the single number for a very long time.
[LP: 9]
There was no way he could go to the factory in his condition. And he was running out of options.
Even after eating all the cake, the number refused to move, stubbornly still—more so than his stomach, which had shown signs of bloating the night before.
He had already done everything he could think of. Eating. Sleeping... Waiting.
Nothing.
Everything pointed in only one direction.
Noah sighed, hesitated, and took out his communicator. His thumb hovered over a name on the cracked screen.
"Damn it." Something cracked inside him as he tapped it. The communicator began to beep.
But his heart was even louder.
As the tune went on, his hand started to tremble, then suddenly—
"Oh, I'm really, really sorry for not picking up your call. You see, I am… busy, yeah. So if you could please leave your voicemail, I promise to call you back as soon as I wake up—I mean, as soon as I'm free. God, this is so embarrassing."
Noah stared at the screen, eyes wide, as another beep resounded and a strange interface opened in front of him.
"What the fuck? She has a voicemail function in her communicator?"
He got up from the bed, mumbling as he tried to make sense of the interface, but—
"Thank you for the message. I, Tina Marshall, take an oath to call you back… probably. Bye!"
"No, wait—"
Another beep, and the screen returned to normal.
Noah lay frozen for a long time before slowly getting up.
'Thank god, Eva is not here.' Thinking that, he went to the bathroom and deliberately looked anywhere but the tap and mirror.
"So, how do I take a bath?"
An eternity passed before he emerged from the bathroom feeling like a new person. He didn't know whether it was the cold water that had fully woken him up or simply the fact that it had been so long since he had last taken a proper shower. Either way, it lifted half the burden from his shoulders.
Most of all, he looked good. His hair was clean and parted back, his newly smooth skin on full display.
'If only I had some meat—' He shook his head before the thought could fully form.
Reluctantly, he sat down beside the bed. His eyes landed on the small groove in the middle of its side.
"Here goes nothing."
Drawing in a deep breath, he let it out and grabbed the recessed handle. He opened Pandora's box and gulped.
Inside the drawer, a set of clean clothes was placed neatly. It was too early for them to be out, but he didn't want to appear this pathetic.
As his hand reached for the clothes, his communicator buzzed, making him flinch.
Suddenly, his body felt unbearably heavy, keeping him from answering. By the time he stood, the buzzing stopped—only to start again a moment later.
Noah stared at the name on the screen before finally picking up. He brought the communicator to his ear, but his throat felt tight. He stayed silent, letting the air hum between them.
Until—
"Hi, Noah."
The voice slipped straight into his ear, light and familiar. It had been years since he had spoken to her, yet the sound of it made the gap feel like it had never happened.
"... Yeah."
His feet moved on instinct, pacing the two steps allowed by the cramped room. He stopped abruptly as she spoke again.
"I got your voicemail."
"It was an accident," he replied. The words rushed out fast.
A soft laugh drifted through the speaker. It was muffled, as if she were trying to be polite, but the amusement was unmistakable.
"I figured. And yes, it does have that function," she added, the tension in her voice starting to ease. "So, how have you been?"
Noah's mind blanked. He searched for anything to say that wasn't the lie. His eyes landed on the empty white paper box sitting on the table.
"I got your cake."
The words felt like a mistake the second they left his mouth.
"Oh? D—did you eat it?"
The tone shifted slightly. But that sudden spark of warmth and hopefulness was like a bucket of cold water. It reminded him exactly why he was calling her.
"...Let's talk."
"H—huh?" Tina sounded genuinely surprised. "Umm, y—yeah. I guess."
"Where should I come?"
There was a long pause. When she finally spoke, the lightness was gone, replaced by a cautious, caring tone that made Noah's skin crawl. "Is everything okay, Noah?"
Noah's jaw tightened. He didn't need her pity, and he certainly didn't need her acting like he was something fragile. If she was going to play the savior—
"Just say no if you don't want to."
He would rather find his own way to get crystal.
"I'll meet you at my club," Tina said quickly. "Transit district."
"Alright."
His mood was sullen. And the worst part was, he didn't know the exact reason why. Was it because she was being nice to him? Or was it because he continued to see her, even though he knew that?
"Oka—"
Tina's response cut off as his finger jabbed the end button.
Suddenly, the urge to smash his communicator rose inside him.
"Fuck, I didn't ask when."