She had looked at his profile four times today.
Not for any reason. There was nothing new on it: his display picture was still the same dark, slightly blurry photo she'd first seen in the NEO-TOKYO server, just enough to confirm that he existed in physical space and had a face. She wasn't even sure what she was looking for. She'd open the app to reply to something, her thumb would move to his name before the conversation loaded, and she'd be on his profile for five seconds before she caught herself and went back.
Four times.
She was aware of how that looked. She chose not to examine it too closely.
It was mid-afternoon and she was on the balcony again, her default location when the apartment started feeling smaller than its actual square footage. The mountains were doing their flat backdrop thing again, the sky behind them a pale, washed-out blue that meant rain was thinking about coming. She had her knees pulled up and her phone balanced on them and she was, by all appearances, simply sitting outside enjoying the fresh air.
Her mother had said exactly that when she'd walked past. "Good, fresh air. You spend too much time inside."
Alya had agreed pleasantly and waited for the glass door to close.
The app showed him as offline.
She noticed this in the same peripheral, trying-not-to-notice way she noticed everything lately when it came to him. Offline meant he was either busy or asleep or doing something that had nothing to do with her, which was completely normal and entirely fine and not something she was thinking about.
She opened a different app. Closed it. Went back.
Still offline.
This is embarrassing, she told herself, with the specific clarity of someone who is being embarrassing and knows it and is going to keep doing it anyway.
Then the little circle next to his name went green.
She waited exactly long enough that it wouldn't look like she'd been watching for it for thirty seconds - maybe, and typed.
Alya: the mountains are doing the flat thing again
Seth: good morning to you too
Alya: it's the afternoon
Seth: it's morning somewhere
Alya: where?
Seth: somewhere that's not here. how flat?
Alya: very. like someone forgot to add the shadows
Seth: I looked up what that actually is by the way
Alya: what? what actually is?
Seth: the flat mountain thing. it's called flat light. happens when the sun is behind cloud cover and the light comes from everywhere at once so there are no shadows to give things depth. everything looks flat. like a drawing
She lowered her phone and looked at the mountains.
They did look flat. Exactly like that like: depth was a feature the light was responsible for and the light had clocked out early today.
Alya: you looked that up
Seth: I was curious
Alya: about the mountains
Seth: about the thing you described. yeah
She didn't respond immediately. She sat with that for a second: the specific image of him looking something up because she had described it, not because it was useful or relevant to anything, just because she'd said it and he'd wanted to know more.
Alya: flat light
Seth: flat light
Alya: I feel like I should have known that already
Seth: you described it perfectly without knowing it. that's better
Alya: that's generous
Seth: I'm a generous person
Alya: I thought that was my thing
Seth: selectively generous
Alya: 💀 okay fair
The conversation moved after that, the way it always did. No fixed direction, just the two of them following wherever it went. He was in a particular mood today, she could tell. Less performatively unbothered than usual, slightly more willing to just say things without packaging them first.
Seth: can I tell you something kind of annoying?
Alya: those are my favourite kind of things lol
Seth: I had a plan. like an actual solid plan for what I was going to do after school. I had it mapped out, I knew exactly where I was going
Alya: what happened to it
Seth: I did. I happened to it. I got there and realised the plan was for a version of me that made sense when I was seventeen and by the time I actually arrived I was different and the plan didn't fit anymore
Alya: what did you do
Seth: I'm still figuring that out. hence the "figuring it out era" that I made sound more intentional than it is
Alya: how long have you been figuring it out
Seth: about eight months
Alya: that's not that long
Seth: it feels long
Alya: I know
Seth: do you? you seem like someone who always knows what they want
She almost laughed at that.
Alya: I know what I think I'm supposed to want. that's different
Seth: …yeah okay. that's different
Seth: what do you actually want
The question sat there, simple and direct and slightly too large for a Tuesday afternoon on a balcony. She looked at the mountains, still flat, still shadowless.
Alya: space. I think. just. room to find out
Seth: from the atmosphere
Alya: from everything. from what's expected. from already knowing how things are going to go before they happen
Seth: yeah
Seth: for what it's worth. you don't talk like someone who doesn't know who she is
Alya: I talk like someone who's had a lot of time to think with nowhere to go
Seth: maybe that's the same thing
She pressed her lips together. Looked at the sky. The rain was still thinking about it, still making up its mind on the horizon.
Alya: what do you actually want. not the plan. you
A pause. Longer than usual.
Seth: honestly?
Alya: obviously
Seth: I want to make something. I don't know what yet. something that's just. mine. that didn't come from anyone's expectations or anyone's version of what I should be doing. just something I made because I wanted to
Alya: that doesn't sound annoying. that sounds like the least annoying thing you've told me
Seth: 😭 that's the bar? least annoying?
Alya: it's a good bar. I maintain high standards
Seth: clearly
Seth: hey
Alya: yeah
Seth: you said last week that you were rereading something. the book you'd already read twice
She blinked.
Alya: yeah
Seth: why do you reread things
She hadn't expected that question. It wasn't where she thought he was going.
Alya: because the book doesn't change but I do. so I'm never actually reading the same thing twice
Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.
Seth: okay that's going in my notes app
Alya: you have a notes app thing?
Seth: I have a whole thing. you're in it
Her heart did the small inconvenient thing it had started doing at unpredictable intervals.
Alya: what does that mean. I'm in it
Seth: things you say. I write them down sometimes
Alya: …since when
Seth: since "the mountains just exist really hard"
She sat up straighter. That was weeks ago. Almost from the very beginning. He had been writing things down since almost the start and hadn't mentioned it until now, casually, like it was a normal thing to admit on a Tuesday
Alya: Seth?
Seth: yeah
Alya: that's...
Seth: weird? probably
Alya: I was going to say something else
Seth: what were you going to say?
The rain had made its decision. The first drops appeared on the railing, slow and exploratory, like they were testing the temperature before committing.
She should go inside. Her mother would appear at the glass door in approximately forty-five seconds to tell her it was raining as if she didn't have eyes.
Alya: I don't know yet
Seth: okay
Seth: tell me when you figure it out
Alya: you'll be the first to know
Seth: 😌
The glass door slid open. Her mother's voice, exactly on schedule: "Alya it's raining, come inside."
Alya: I have to go
Seth: the atmosphere?
Alya: the rain
Seth: same thing sometimes
Alya: 💀 goodnight
Seth: it's four in the afternoon
Alya: goodnight Seth
Seth: 😂 go
𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑
She went inside, dried her phone on her sleeve, and sat on her bed.
She opened the app. Not to text him but just. She opened it.
His profile. The blurry photo. The name she had looked at four times today for no reason she was prepared to name.
She thought about him writing things down. Since the mountains. Since almost the beginning.
She thought about flat light. How he had looked it up, quietly, on his own, because she had described something and he had wanted to understand it better.
She thought about the notes app with her in it and felt something move in her chest that was warm and slightly terrifying and absolutely not something she was going to give a name to today.
She closed the app.
Opened it again.
You're in it, he had said. Like it was simple. Like it was just a fact he was reporting.
She put the phone face down on the bed and pressed both hands over her face and stayed like that for a moment.
This is so bad, she thought, with the complete calm of someone who already knew they were in trouble and had decided to deal with it later.
She picked the phone back up.
She looked at his profile one more time.
Five times today. A new record.