ROOM 7
Chapter Twenty-Two: The Questions
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Ci N had been in Room 7 for exactly one week when he decided to start asking questions.
It wasn't a sudden decision. His brain worked at one hundred sixty percent capacity. He'd been observing. Collecting data. Noticing patterns. And after seven days of watching, listening, and cataloging, he had questions.
Many questions.
He chose dinner time to ask them. Sixteen people around the table. Nowhere to escape. No corner to hide in. Perfect.
---
Part One: The First Attempt
Dinner was winding down. Plates were half-empty. Conversations were scattered. Ci N put his fork down. Cleared his throat.
Everyone looked at him.
"Jay," he said.
She looked up from her rice. "Ci N."
"I have a question."
"You always have questions."
He leaned forward. His face was serious. His eyes were wide. "Have you and Keifer tried it yet?"
The table went silent.
Jay's hand froze mid-reach for her water glass. "Tried what?"
He tilted his head, innocent as a child. "You know. It."
Keifer choked. Yuri's spoon clattered. Lyra's face went through five different expressions in three seconds.
"I don't know what you mean," Jay said carefully.
Ci N's eyebrows rose. "Really? It. The thing couples do when they're alone. When the lights are low. When they've been dancing around each other for years and finally decide to—"
"CI N."
"—take a walk in the park."
The silence that followed was deafening.
Jay stared at him. "The park."
"Of course the park. What did you think I meant?"
Her face was red. Her hands were fists. Keifer was staring at his plate like it held the secrets of the universe. Yuri had his hand clamped over his mouth.
"The park," Jay repeated.
"The walking path. Behind the business building. Very scenic. People go there to walk. Have you and Keifer tried walking there together?"
"We haven't—"
"Why not? It's very romantic at sunset. My brain works at one hundred sixty percent. I calculated the optimal time for couple walking. 5:47 PM. The light hits the trees at a forty-three degree angle. Perfect for hand-holding."
Keifer was coughing. Lyra had her hand over her mouth. Yuri was shaking.
Jay grabbed her napkin. "We're not—"
"You should try it. Together. As a couple. The path is 1.2 kilometers. At average walking speed, it takes twenty-two minutes. Enough time for meaningful conversation. Or silence. Silence is also meaningful. Have you tried silence together? Some couples find it very intimate."
Jay opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.
"I'll think about it," she said.
Ci N nodded. "You do that."
He went back to his rice.
Yuri lost it. He was laughing so hard he nearly fell off his chair. Lyra was crying. Mica had her face in her hands. Calix was patting her back. Care was trying not to laugh. Cole was failing. Freya was taking photos. Erdix was filming. David was smiling.
Ash leaned over to Lyra. "He's eighteen."
"He's eighteen."
"He's also terrifying."
"He's also terrifying."
They watched Ci N eat his rice like nothing had happened.
Alex sat beside Lyra, quiet as always. His book was open. His eyes were on the page. His ears were red.
---
Part Two: The Second Attempt
He waited until the laughter died down. Then he put his fork down again.
"Jay."
She looked up. Warily. "Ci N."
"Another question."
She braced herself. "What?"
He leaned forward again. "Have you done it yet?"
The table went silent again. Yuri's laugh caught in his throat. Keifer's hand stopped halfway to his water glass.
Jay's eye twitched. "Done what?"
Ci N's face was perfectly innocent. "You know. It. The thing couples do when they're ready to take the next step. When they've been circling each other for years and finally decide to—"
"Ci N."
"—cook together. In the kitchen. Have you cooked together yet?"
Lyra made a sound. A small sound. Like a dying animal.
Jay stared at him. "Cooked."
"Cooking requires coordination. Communication. Trust. It's a good test for couples. Have you two passed the test? Or are you still in the preparation phase? Some couples stay in preparation for years. Too nervous to add heat. Too scared of burning. Is that where you are? Still preparing? Still measuring ingredients? Still—"
"We haven't cooked together."
"Why not?"
"Because we haven't had time."
Ci N looked at Keifer. "Time is a construct. You make time for things that matter. Does cooking together matter to you?"
Keifer opened his mouth. Closed it.
Ci N nodded slowly. "You should find out. Cooking together reveals compatibility. If you can't cook together, you can't live together. And if you can't live together—" He stopped. Let the sentence hang.
Yuri was on the floor now. Lyra was holding her stomach. Ash had given up trying to be subtle.
Jay grabbed her water glass. Drank the whole thing. "I'll think about it."
Ci N picked up his fork. "You do that."
---
Part Three: The Third Attempt
He didn't wait long. Maybe two minutes. Just enough time for everyone to catch their breath.
He put his fork down.
"Jay."
She didn't look up. "Ci N."
"Is it big?"
The room went dead silent.
Keifer's face went pale. Then red. Then pale again. Yuri stopped breathing. Lyra grabbed Ash's arm. Mica dropped her spoon. Calix caught it. Care's mouth fell open. Cole looked like he wanted to disappear.
Jay's head snapped up. "WHAT?"
Ci N's expression didn't change. "The park. Is it big? The walking path. I haven't seen it yet. You said you'd think about it. Is it big enough for two people to walk comfortably? Or is it narrow? Some paths are narrow. They force couples to walk single file. That's less romantic. You can't hold hands. You can't walk side by side. You can't—"
"I DON'T KNOW HOW BIG THE PARK IS."
"You should find out. With Keifer. Together. On the big path. Walking side by side. Hand in hand. The width is important. You don't want to be forced apart by narrow infrastructure. Some couples break up over narrow paths. The inability to walk together. The constant single file. The distance that grows between them until—"
"Ci N."
He stopped. Looked at her.
She was holding a napkin. Her hand was shaking. "I'm going to throw this at you."
"You won't. You need it."
She threw it. He caught it.
"Your aim is improving," he said.
"Your face is improving."
"My face is the same."
"It's improving at being annoying."
He considered this. "Is that possible? Annoying is subjective. Your definition of annoying might differ from mine. For example, I find your refusal to walk in the park with Keifer annoying. You find my questions annoying. Which annoyance is valid?"
She stared at him. He stared back.
"You're impossible," she said.
"You like it."
She didn't answer. She grabbed her water glass. Realized it was empty. Put it down.
Ci N went back to his rice.
---
Part Four: The Transfer
He found Lyra after dinner.
She was on the couch, recovering. Ash was beside her. Alex sat on the armrest, quiet, watching.
Ci N appeared in front of her.
Lyra tensed. "Ci N."
"Lyra."
"I don't want any questions."
"I have one anyway."
She closed her eyes. "What?"
He sat on the coffee table. Leaned close. "Have you and Alex done it yet?"
Her eyes snapped open. "Done WHAT?"
He tilted his head. "You know. It. The thing best friends do when they're ready to become something more. When they've been dancing around each other for years and finally decide to—"
"Ci N."
"—transfer. To the next level. Have you transferred yet?"
Ash made a sound. A small sound. Like she was choking.
Lyra grabbed a pillow. "We're best friends."
Ci N looked at Alex. Alex was very still. His book was in his lap. His hands were flat on the cover.
"Best friends who hold hands in the dark?"
"We don't—"
"Best friends who check her temperature when she's sick?"
"That was—"
"Best friends who watch her sleep to make sure she's breathing? Best friends who look at her like she's the only person in the room? Best friends who've been standing in front of the same door for years without—"
"CI N."
"—turning the handle?"
Lyra's face was red. Her hands were gripping the pillow. "We're best friends."
"Best friends who finish each other's sentences?"
"We don't finish each other's sentences."
"You just did."
"Coincidence."
"That's not coincidence. That's synchronization."
"Same thing."
"It's not the same thing."
She threw the pillow at him. He caught it.
"Good reflexes," he said. "Alex would be proud."
He looked at Alex. Alex was looking at the floor. His ears were red. His jaw was tight.
"You should transfer," Ci N said. "To the next level. The data supports it. The window for optimal transfer is closing. Some opportunities don't last forever. The longer you wait, the harder it becomes. The door doesn't stay open indefinitely. Eventually—"
"Ci N."
He stopped. Looked at Lyra.
She was holding another pillow. "I'm going to throw this."
"You won't. You need it for sleeping."
She threw it anyway. He caught it.
"Two pillows," he said. "Now I'm comfortable."
He walked away.
Alex's book was still in his lap. His hands were still flat on the cover. He hadn't moved.
Ash pulled her face out of the pillow. "He's eighteen."
"He's eighteen."
"He's also terrifying."
"He's also terrifying."
Lyra stared at the door Ci N had walked through. "I hate him."
"You love him."
"I hate him right now."
"You don't hate him right now."
"What do I hate?"
Ash smiled. "You hate that he's right."
Lyra grabbed a napkin from the table. Threw it across the room. Ci N caught it without looking.
"Thank you," he said. "I needed a napkin."
---
Part Five: The Door
Ci N found Alex in the hallway an hour later.
He was leaning against the wall. Book in his hands. Still closed.
"Alex."
Alex didn't look up. "Ci N."
"I have a question."
"I figured."
Ci N stood beside him. Looked up. "Have you opened it yet?"
Alex went still. "Opened what?"
"You know. It. The thing that's been sitting between you for years. The thing you've been walking around. The thing you've been pretending isn't there. Have you opened it?"
Alex stared at him. "We're best friends."
"Best friends who check her temperature. Best friends who watch her sleep. Best friends who hold her hand in the dark. Best friends who look at her like she's the only person in the room. Best friends who've been standing in front of the same door for so long they've forgotten it's there. But it's there. It's always been there. And you know where the handle is. You've touched it. Many times. You just haven't turned it."
Alex didn't answer.
Ci N nodded slowly. "You haven't opened it. You're standing in front of it. You've been standing there for a long time. The door doesn't care how long you wait. It just stays there. Closed. Waiting for someone to—"
"Ci N."
He stopped.
Alex looked at him. "I know."
Ci N studied his face. "Then why haven't you opened it?"
Alex didn't answer.
Ci N waited. Then: "Fear of failure. Fear of rejection. Fear of losing what you already have. These are common barriers to door-opening. My brain works at one hundred sixty percent. I've analyzed the data. The probability of rejection is low. The probability of success is high. The probability of regret if you don't open it is—"
"Ci N."
He stopped.
Alex's jaw tightened. "I know."
Ci N looked at him for a long moment. Then he nodded. "Then you know what you need to do."
He walked away.
Alex stood in the hallway, book in his hands, staring at the wall.
---
Part Six: The Height
Ci N found Jay in the kitchen later.
She was making tea. Her hands were steady. Her face was calm. She was pretending nothing had happened.
He sat at the table. Watched her.
"You're asking questions again," she said without turning around.
"I'm gathering data."
"You're annoying people."
"I'm helping people."
She turned to look at him. "How is asking if the park is big helping?"
He considered the question. "You need to think about it. The park. The walking path. The possibility of walking there with Keifer. If you think about it enough, you might do it."
She stared at him. "You did that on purpose."
He didn't deny it.
She brought her tea to the table. Sat across from him. "You knew what everyone was thinking. When you asked those questions."
"My brain works at one hundred sixty percent. I know what people are thinking before they think it."
"And you asked anyway."
"The questions needed to be asked."
She looked at him for a long moment. Then she smiled. "You're impossible."
"You like it."
She didn't answer. She drank her tea.
He sat there, small and intense, watching her.
"Jay."
"What?"
"Is it deep enough?"
She choked on her tea. "WHAT?"
"The park. The walking path. Is it deep enough for meaningful conversation? Some paths are shallow. You walk and you talk about the weather. The food. The schedule. Shallow things. Other paths are deep. You walk and you talk about things that matter. Things you've been holding for years. Is the path deep enough for that?"
She set her cup down. "I don't know."
"You should find out. With Keifer. The depth is important for couple compatibility. Shallow paths produce shallow relationships. Deep paths produce—"
"Ci N."
He stopped.
She was holding a napkin. "I'm going to throw this."
"You won't."
She threw it. He caught it.
"You have a catching problem," she said.
"You have a throwing problem."
"I have a Ci N problem."
"The worst kind."
She laughed. He smiled. They sat in the kitchen, drinking tea, not saying anything else.
---
Part Seven: The Museum
Ci N found Care and Cole in the library the next morning.
They were arguing about something. They were always arguing about something. He stood in the doorway, watching.
Care noticed him first. "Ci N."
Cole turned. "Ci N."
He walked in. Sat on the edge of the table. "I have a question."
Care and Cole looked at each other. Then back at him.
"What?" Care asked.
He looked at Cole. "Have you entered it yet?"
Cole blinked. "Entered what?"
"You know. It. The place couples go when they're ready to take the next step. When they've been circling each other for years and finally decide to—"
"Ci N."
"—go to the museum. Behind the art building. Have you entered it together?"
Care's face went red. Cole's ears went red.
"We're not—" Cole started.
"We're not—" Care started.
Ci N looked between them. "You argue like a married couple. You look at each other like a married couple. You finish each other's sentences. But you haven't entered the museum?"
"We don't finish each other's sentences," Care said.
"You literally just did."
"Coincidence."
"That's not coincidence. That's synchronization."
"Same thing."
"It's not the same thing."
Care grabbed a book. Held it up. "I'm going to throw this at you."
"You won't. You value literature."
She lowered the book. "You're impossible."
"You like it."
She didn't say anything. Cole didn't say anything. Ci N watched them.
"You should enter the museum," he said. "Together. As a couple. The lighting is optimal at 2:15 PM. Very dramatic. Good for first—"
"Ci N."
He stopped. Looked at Cole.
Cole's ears were red. His jaw was tight. "We'll think about it."
Ci N nodded. "You do that."
He walked out.
Care looked at Cole. Cole looked at Care.
"He's eighteen," Care said.
"He's eighteen."
"He's also terrifying."
"He's also terrifying."
They looked at the door. Neither of them said anything else.
---
Part Eight: The Night
Jay lay in her bed that night, staring at the ceiling. The shark was beside her. She could hear Keifer across the room. His breathing was uneven. He wasn't sleeping either.
"Jay."
Ci N's voice. From his bed. Soft. Clear.
She turned her head. "Ci N."
"One more question."
She braced herself. "What?"
He sat up. His face was visible in the moonlight. "Is it wide enough?"
She stared at the ceiling. "The park?"
"The path. For two people. Is it wide enough for you and Keifer to walk side by side? Or will you be forced apart?"
She was quiet for a moment. "I don't know."
"You should find out."
She didn't say anything.
From across the room, Keifer's voice: "We'll find out."
Ci N's face appeared in the dark. He was sitting up now. "Together?"
"Together."
"At sunset?"
"At sunset."
Ci N nodded slowly. "5:47 PM. The light hits the trees at a forty-three degree angle."
"We'll be there."
Ci N lay back down. Pulled his blanket up. His fox was under his arm.
"Good," he said. "That's efficient."
He closed his eyes.
From another corner of the room, Lyra's voice: "Ci N."
"Yes?"
"Don't ask me any more questions."
"I have one."
"No you don't."
"Have you and Alex—"
"CI N."
"Lyra."
She grabbed a pillow. Threw it across the room. He caught it.
"Thank you," he said. "I needed an extra pillow."
Lyra screamed into her hands.
Alex's voice, quiet in the dark: "Goodnight, Lyra."
She stopped screaming. "Goodnight, Alex."
Ci N's voice again: "That's progress."
Lyra grabbed another pillow. "I'm going to throw this."
"You won't. You need it for sleeping."
She threw it anyway. He caught it.
"Two pillows," he said. "Now I'm comfortable."
Rakki's voice: "Ci N. Sleep."
"I'm sleeping."
"You're talking."
"I'm sleeping and talking. My brain works at one hundred sixty percent. I can do both."
"Ci N."
"Goodnight, Rakki."
"Goodnight, Ci N."
The room went quiet. Sixteen people breathing in the dark.
Jay lay in her bed. The shark was beside her. She could hear Keifer across the room.
"Hey, Mariano."
His voice was soft. Just for her.
"Hey, Watson."
"5:47 PM?"
"5:47 PM."
"I'll be there."
She smiled in the dark. "I know."
Ci N's voice, soft and sleepy: "The path is wide enough. For two people. I checked."
"Ci N," Jay said.
"What?"
"Go to sleep."
"I am sleeping."
"You're talking."
"I'm dreaming. My dreams are very efficient."
Rakki's voice: "Ci N."
"I'm going."
The room went quiet.
Jay closed her eyes. The shark was beside her. Keifer was across the room. Tomorrow, they would walk on the path. Together. At sunset.
She slept.
---
End of Chapter Twenty-Two