"I need you to come with me to a party."
Akeidat looked up from the book they'd been reading- some kind of old encyclopaedia on marine life and coral reefs. They blinked at Fiera, slowly, "...Huh?"
"I need you to come with me to a party," Fiera repeated, standing beside the bean bag Akeidat was sitting in.
They tilted their head, "Why?"
Fiera shrugged, "It's my boss's friend's sister's party. It's supposed to be a rather large social event, where we're representing our companies and engaging in networking."
"...And?"
"And we're encouraged to bring with us a plus-one," Fiera elaborated, walking behind them to sit cross-legged on the other bean bag, "Because it's polite."
"...Erm," Akeidat squinted, "Okay, I guess? When is the party?"
"Tonight."
"Tonight?!" Akeidat exclaimed, "So soon?"
"Yes."
"And you couldn't have told me earlier?? That's not fair!" This was better than just being told last minute, on the spot, but still. Akeidat would've liked being given more time to prepare.
"I did, actually. But then you lost your memory," Fiera pointed out, scratching her cheek, and they grimaced, "And it's been... a distracting few days. I'm sorry for not reminding you."
They huffed. This was far from ideal; but if the other Akeidat had promised, they weren't going to break it. Akeidat was responsible, like that.
After a half-heartedly-eaten lunch, Akeidat sifted through their wardrobe, snout furrowing once again at each selection. They'd been doing alright, surviving on the little stack of old graphic tees gathering dust in the corner, but Fiera had insisted that they dress, in her words, sensibly for the occasion.
What counted as sensibly, Akeidat had no idea. Don't wear something exaggerated and outrageous, that was all Akeidat really understood- but even that was a vague statement. Did sensibly mean formally, like wearing fancy suits and things? Did it mean practically, like something short enough to run in? They were tempted to try the dust-covered dress, but Akeidat had no idea how one was supposed to put it on, much less take off.
Akeidat let out a low, rumbling growl in frustration. Picking an outfit should not be this hard. Normally, they never really had to think about their wardrobe choices. Every day was the same; a standard school uniform, and whatever their parents or Madison picked out for them at home, when they came out of the shower. While they were certainly capable of choosing their own clothing if needed, especially in this future, they never had to dress up for something, before.
In the end, they settled for a shirt not too dissimilar to their usual home attire in the present; a pleasant blue the colour of the ocean, short cuffed sleeves, and decorative buttons along the collar. If such attire was deemed their best-looking by their parents, then surely, it was good enough for whatever work party Fiera was dragging them into.
"Wear long pants," Fiera insisted, upon them emerging from their room. Akeidat rolled their eyes, but obliged.
Out of the apartment, Akeidat felt a small smile worm its way onto their snout at the now-familiar sights, sounds, and smells of their neighbourhood. When they looked closer, they noticed all the plants were connected by little tubes, no thicker than their finger. Was this how all of them were watered?
The walk to the train station revealed more interesting sights. Everything had looked so utterly mundane and normal at first glance, but...
Well. It was, in all honesty, still pretty mundane. But everything felt... lighter? It was nicer than it was in the present. The lights warm and unobtrusive, and the streets quieter and less crowded than they ever remembered them. Some street performer was playing a tune on a wooden guitar by the pier.
With a jolt, Akeidat realised that they recognised the tune. They'd heard it as part of the soundtrack of one of their favourite games. And here, twenty years in the future, so far away from home, someone was still playing it. The familiarity brought with it a comfort. Was this what nostalgia was?
They were hit with a wave of homesickness. Under the depths, they wondered: is this what Madison felt when she thought of her own childhood?
They jumped as Fiera approached, "Akeidat, what are you standing around here, for?"
"The music," Akeidat gestured at the guitar-player, "It's nice, isn't it?"
"I guess," she replied. As they listened, Akeidat tapped their fingers against their leg, humming to the beat, even as they and Fiera slowly walked away, upon her insistence. Didn't want to be late.
The train station was pretty much just as Akeidat remembered train stations looking like. Industrial-looking silver-and-concrete walls, and a grey floor lined at each side with bumps for the blind.
A cleaning robot quietly trickled past them, sleek, yellow, and cuboidal, and Akeidat realised with a start, that it was covered in decorative stickers. Amusement prickled along their fur; if only they had a sticker of their own.
Suddenly, the robot began blasting the audio of what Akeidat instantly recognised as some sort of advertisement. Well, that was annoying. Akeidat quickly bounded forwards to Fiera's lead, after that.
Fiera stopped in front of some sort of diagram, mapping out what Akeidat assumed had to be all the other train stations this one could access. They studied the grid with fervor, wondering and wondering. They only vaguely knew how the train system worked; they knew the large vehicles were on a set path along tracks, and that they took people to each station. They didn't quite know how the navigation worked, however. Why did the station have two sides for the same colour? Train tracks had those things- crossroads- where the trains could go in any number of directions, didn't they? How was it all decided? By a computer? By magnets?
Akeidat tugged at Fiera's sleeve, "How do you know where the train's going?"
Fiera blinked at them, "Um. The sign?"
Akeidat huffed. That wasn't what they meant. If only they knew how to explain what they were actually thinking about.
"Nevermind," they muttered, waiting for the train to arrive. Once inside- Fiera just sat somewhere. Akeidat looked left and right.
"Aren't you gonna sit?" asked Fiera.
"Erm," Akeidat's tail curled tightly behind them, "Is that alright?"
Were they supposed to ask to sit? Greet someone? Or was it like the school bus, and they could just plop down? They'd never been on a train without their parents, before. Their parents usually just sort of pointed out a seat if one was available, and they'd take it.
Fiera tilted her head, raising an eyebrow, "Yeah?"
"O...kay, then," Akeidat replied. Slowly, a little bit nervously, they sat down next to her.
They fidgeted and played with their fingers, shaping wolf heads and bull horns, until they asked, "Are you gonna tell me more about what your job is, now?"
"We..." Fiera paused. Then she said, "I suppose, we're technically kind of a subdivision of a record label."
"Huh?"
"We do music law."
"Ohh," Akeidat replied. They scratched an itch at the base of their thumb, "So, you do copyright, and publishing, and things, right?"
"Correct," She replied, "My boss and I, we're the local subdivision of this city. If anyone wishes to improve their chances of a successful music career, here, they'll have to go through her."
"Her?" Akeidat questioned, "What about you?"
"She's the one making all the decisions," Fiera stated, matter-of-factly, "I'm nothing important. Just the secretary that answers calls, and does all the paperwork nobody else bothers to read."
That sounded pretty important to them.
"Checks out," commented Akeidat, thoughtlessly. Fiera gave them a look that was... confusion? Probably? Maybe offense? "Because whenever I see- saw you in school, you're always writing something, or carrying paper."
They gave her an appraising look, "That's how I know you're smart."
"...Huh," said Fiera. She looked at the window, then grimaced, before looking down at the ground, "Thanks. I forgot I did that."
The two fell into a more comfortable silence. Akeidat dozed off in their seat, letting the waters and the dark overtake them. They could hear Darius humming something, just beyond the surface.
They next few- hours? Minutes? Passed by in a half-remembered daze. They alighted somewhere deeper into the city. Fiera led them a short walk to some fancy-looking, big building that looked halfway between a shopping mall, a giant fancy restaurant, and the big hall area in their school. Within it was a crowd comprised of well-dressed, talkative folks laughing to each other in scattered groups, that Akeidat felt entirely out of place amongst.
They knew they literally didn't belong here, in the future; but this felt like they didn't belong here, amongst the chattering businesspeople adults. That was weird, wasn't it? If their physical body was just as adult as the rest of them, why didn't they feel it?
Coming to greet them and Fiera was an older-looking stranger with dusty red fur, overlapping with faded gold accents and light pink stripes. They wore a glossy white suit and a long pair of cyan leggings. This person exuded power, looking kind of like some kind of celebrity pop star in a dress-up game- if only she wore something a bit more extravagant, such as star-shaped sunglasses; and it was the oddest thing, for Akeidat, being a little taller than this stranger. It didn't feel like it made sense.
"Akeidat, this is my boss, Ms. Kasie Forte," Fiera introduced, then turning to give her boss a small bow of the head, "Ms. Forte, this is my associate, Akeidat Hart."
"Ah, welcome," Ms. Forte greeted, some kind of glass-beverage-thing held primly between her fingers. She held out her other paw, and Akeidat looked at it in confusion. Was that meant for them? Was she asking to shake their paw, or was she expecting them to give her something?
After a few seconds, Fiera elbowed them by the side. They went in for the pawshake. Ms. Forte's grip was surprisingly strong, for such a frail-looking thing. Akeidat's paw just sort of hung there, limply, while Ms. Forte shook it exactly three times.
"So, is this your ███friend?" she asked Fiera, grinning. Akeidat gagged for a multitude of reasons.
"Over my dead body," they protested, "I'm not even a ███."
"Ah, you're one of those people, then," she deemed. Ignoring their sputters, she gave Fiera a pat on her shoulder. Fiera very visibly jumped at the contact, but neither of the women said anything, "Ms. Byrde, dear, you know you don't have to play along with ███ fantasies, right?"
Ms. Byrde? Akeidat's ears perked up, even amidst their discomfort. Was that Fiera's surname? Fiera Byrde?
"With all due respect," Fiera began, quietly nudging Ms. Forte's paw off of her shoulder, "Akeidat has identified as agender since they were eight, and not once have I seen them falter on their decision. I can trust that they know who they are. And even if they didn't, their choices are to be respected, regardless."
Astounded, Akeidat gave their roommate a grateful smile. She remembered that? H-word, they barely remembered that.
"Well, you don't have to be so aggressive about it, do you?" Ms. Forte laughed, patting her again; this time, on the back, "I'm just giving my opinion."
Fiera stood, frozen on the spot, "A-ah, yes, of course."
"Chin up, don't stutter," reprimanded Ms. Forte, coming close enough to actually lift Fiera's chin with her fingers, "This is a highly regarded formal event, and as my secretary, we are both here to represent our company, which means..."
"...It means we must present as a united front, and as such, I will behave according to our company's core values of respect and quality," recited Fiera. Her boss nodded, still smiling in a way that Akeidat now found creepy-looking, and dropped Fiera's chin to clap her paws.
"Very good. Now, follow me," Ms. Forte beckoned to Fiera, "You're aware of our planned activities with the other firms, yes?"
Fiera froze, "I... wasn't aware of- I thought this was just a party?"
Her boss tutted in clear disapproval. Akeidat felt their fur bristle.
"I sent you an email a whole three hours before the event," Ms. Forte informed, "You should know better by now than to be tardy. I expect you to check your notifications regularly, you know?"
Fiera bowed her head, "Of course, Ms. Forte. I've just been- preoccupied. Akeidat-"
"Don't make excuses." Ms. Forte cut in, her voice sharp and direct, "What's more important? Your productivity, or lolly-gagging around with your friend?"
Akeidat couldn't help but recoil as if burned. That wasn't true. That wasn't at all true. Fiera, as far as she was supposed to know, anyway, was caring for her recovering-from-a-car-crash, amnesiac roommate.
But rather than defend herself, Fiera held her usual blank expression, betraying no hint of the emotion beneath. Akeidat wondered, not for the first time, if her stoicism was true- or if it was a front. Like those characters that honourably let go of their emotions for what they perceived as the greater good- scientists, leaders, or wizards, usually. Such characters were often their favourite. The stoicism part of their appeal.
They didn't enjoy the thought of such a description applying to Fiera. It felt wrong. That was a face made for smiling, and sharing fun facts and ideas. Not for... whatever this was.
"You're better than this, I know you are," Fiera's boss continued, her paws neatly kept behind her back. Her gaze imploring, "Can I trust that you'll leave behind such irresponsibility in the future?"
Akeidat flattened their ears, uneasily. That whole exchange seemed... harsh? No, harsh wasn't the right word for it. Harsh was when their teachers punished the entire class for the misbehaviour of a small few. They didn't know what this was; it was like scolding without the actual scolding. Ms. Forte carried with her a sweet, saccharine sing-song voice that teetered just on the edge of being too sweet. It felt... insidious, somehow. The likes of sneaky villains that sang songs of insincere trust. Did actual, adult people genuinely act like that? Like cartoon villains?
Or maybe they were overreacting. Maybe this was just what bosses and employees were like, out here in the real world. Akeidat wouldn't know.
"Of course, Ms. Forte," Fiera pulled out her phone, typing quickly. The two then launched into a conversation about business and money that Akeidat could barely keep up with.
"Wh- hold on," Akeidat called, sprinting forwards to tug at Fiera's sleeve, "What am I supposed to do?"
Ms. Forte narrowed her eyes in a frightening manner, while Fiera's expression was colder and blanker than they'd ever seen it. Fiera's eyes calmly flitted from Akeidat to her boss, then back again.
"By all means, do as you please," Fiera said. The warm assurance felt hollow and dead, "I will fetch you when it's dinner. Behave, and do not cause trouble for us."
Akeidat reeled back at her words. What? Since when had Akeidat ever caused trouble for Fiera? ...Intentionally?
But before they could get a word in, the two were long gone. Ms. Forte sauntered onwards, a dutiful Fiera in tow, and Akeidat felt their stomach turn.
Akeidat never really knew what to do when they were dragged by adults into events like this. They didn't know anyone here, they didn't know how the food would taste, they didn't know what they were allowed to do, and where they were allowed to go. So they did what they always did. Akeidat picked a corner where the crowds were less noisy; a sort of lounge-looking place with sofas and a small table in the middle, and sat there, leaning to the side, dead to world. Then they got bored and pulled out their phone.
They were halfway through a game of Disease Inc when they noticed people were leaving the main room, filing into a hallway into different doors. Their heart thudded violently against their chest as they looked around; did they miss something? Where was everyone going? Where were they supposed to go?
They scanned around the crowd for any familiar face. Pink- too bright, not Fiera. Pinkish-red- not Fiera. Purplish-pink- not Fiera. Pink again- stripes instead of circles, so not Fiera.
There!
They clung close to Fiera, whose eyes flickered to them, briefly, before embarking on.
Dinner appeared an equally miserable affair. They sat beside Fiera around a rectangular table, strangers sitting beside and surrounding them. They curled their tail inwards. Ms. Forte sat on the opposite of Fiera. The whole thing reminded them of whenever their parents invited their friends to their house; only now they were at the adult's table, instead of hiding in their room.
None of the food looked particularly appealing. They tried a small bite of bread- and then quickly spit it out- too much of something they couldn't identify. It was too strong.
They didn't miss the look of disdain Ms. Forte sent their way; and it was then that they realised they were the only one who wasn't eating. Akeidat found that they couldn't bring themself to care.
Being an adult and going to adult-y events like this was supposed to feel different. Why didn't it feel different? Why did they still feel so out-of-place?
Eventually, their attention caught on the sound of rippling laughter around the table.
"I'm just saying, Ms. Byrde," Ms. Forte chuckled, "you'd look much more appealing to the masses if you utilised your ears- like what I do!"
As if for emphasis, Ms. Forte's ears- already raised- perked up so perfectly, that it looked like a rectangle of air was being carved into her head.
Fiera said nothing in reply. Akeidat looked at Fiera's ears. They honestly never really noticed that she always had them down; but now that they thought about it, they supposed they'd never seen her without her large ears draped over her shoulders. They didn't really mind it. It gave her a unique shape.
"Oh, no, I know what she's going to say-" a stranger in a fancy suit chimed in. Then they and Ms. Forte said in unison, "It's too heavy!"
More laughter resounded around the table. They looked at Fiera, her tail, bushier and shorter than Akeidat's, curled inwards beneath her seat.
"Sounds like she's just being lazy," another stranger commented, patting Ms. Forte's back, "Hey, isn't she so lucky that you tolerate her enough?"
"Well, she is my best secretary," Ms. Forte replied, airily, "Everything I don't want to do, she does, without question."
Fiera's tail lapped forwards and backwards beneath the seat. All that laughing made Akeidat's blood boil. Why were they talking about her like she wasn't sitting right there?
"Hey, relax," Ms. Forte said, "We're only just joking."
Finally, Fiera spoke, "I... didn't say anything?"
"Everyone could see the death glare you were giving me," her boss replied. Death glare? Akeidat noticed nothing of the sort, "Remember who ranks above you, Ms. Byrde."
Fiera bowed her head, "My apologies."
Akeidat couldn't take it, anymore. They wanted to leave. Could they leave? They were allowed to leave, weren't they? They were physically an adult. Mentally, they skimmed through the consequences: Ms. Forte wouldn't be able to punish them, could she? She wasn't their boss.
They stood up, abruptly, table legs scraping loudly against the floor, and winced. They shook Fiera's shoulder. She looked at them, confused. More expression than she'd shown the entire evening.
"Can I talk with you?" they asked. Fiera's gaze briefly flickered to the table, then back to them. She nodded.
Once they were in the now-empty hallway outside, Akeidat closed the door behind Fiera. The silence rang loudly in their ears. They had absolutely no idea what they were doing.
"...She's- she is bullying you," Akeidat finally whispered, their voice shaking.
Fiera was silent. She just stared at them, "...What?"
"I don't know how to explain it, just-" they paced around, their long tail curling and uncurling behind them as they walked, "I just know she is. She keeps making fun of you, and- and- the-"
"Oh, please," Fiera scoffed, turning away, "I'm not a child. I can handle some teasing. That's just how she is."
"You're not getting it!" Akeidat insisted, tugging at the furs on their head, "She isn't- she's not good to you. You should quit."
Akeidat hated not having the words to describe things. They didn't know how they could tell this, they just did. It wasn't like a maths question where they could explain their reasonings for an answer. They just knew the answer, and found themself scrambling for a way to work backwards and explain.
Fiera creased her snout, turning it upwards, and she stepped a hoof back.
"Excuse me?" she replied, "She is my boss. This is my job. I don't recall asking for your opinion. And in case you've forgotten, ever since you've lost your memories, I'm the one making us all our money, so I can't just quit!"
"U- j- I- g-" Akeidat's paws balled into fists, and they resisted the urge to scream.
"Now, behave," Fiera turned towards the door, "I don't need an invalid to tell me how to live my life."
Click. The door slammed shut behind her. Akeidat wanted to tear their fur out.
Furious, they paced around the hallway, stomping their hooves. They wanted to break the floorboards beneath. They wanted to punch the wall until their paws bled. They wanted to growl. They wanted to roar. They didn't, of course, do anything of the sort. They had sense. Their body was an adult. They didn't want to end up arrested for vandalism.
It was a damn near thing, though. Instead, they sat on the ground, a steady stream of breaths puffing out of their nostrils.
They wished Darius was here. They wished Madison was here. They needed someone here to tell them what to do next. They didn't know what to do, on their own. How were they supposed to know the choices they could make? How were they supposed to know if their choices were right?
But they were alone, and Akeidat let out a whine. Is this what independence was? Shouldering everything on your own?
Of course, it was. They've always known that. They've always understood that, from the moment they first read their teachers' reports on how they were a diligent and independent learner that never needed help and took everything in their own paws.
Once, their better grades were a point of pride, for them. No need to mingle with the stupid. No need to connect with a world that would never accept them. They'd told the adults, and the adults said it was because the bullies were jealous, and that made them better than everyone.
Now, they just felt lonely.
They never had a friend in school; not like anyone wanted to be friends with them, anyway. They never did understand what they did wrong; only that silence was easier. Even if being quiet became another reason to be teased. You can't make fun of words when they're not spoken.
Fiera was the only thing that came close to a friend, but she was still just a study partner. And now, it seemed, she was always just a roommate.
They still didn't want Fiera to be alone with her, though. That's the big thing when it came to horror movies and murder mystery books. The ones that get left alone with a danger are always the ones that die first.
Every piece of logic they had was telling them to just leave well alone. They were a screw-up. They always said the wrong thing. They never knew what to do when it really mattered. They weren't good at friendship, or people in general. They were the good-behaving teacher's pet that waited for the days to pass. They were one who always daydreamed about the future and ended up throwing tantrums when the future came to them. They were a planner that could never come up with one that actually worked.
Every emotion was telling them not to leave their friend alone when she was being bullied. It just didn't seem right. They didn't know what independence was, anymore. They didn't know if the choices they were making were right; what was it all for, if it wasn't building up for their future? Why keep doing things, if they were already at their destination?
With a deep inhale and exhale, they pushed open the door.
Fiera was still there. Ms. Forte was chatting with some other employee at the table. The clattering of ceramic plates and metal utensils rang in their ears. They paused at the door, letting it waft past them, buzzing into the background.
They sat back in their seat, next to Fiera, slumping forwards to sleep. Their back groaned in protest. They didn't really care.
Akeidat twined their tail around Fiera's hoof. Not too tightly, so she wouldn't fall if she needed to move.
They didn't know what to do to help her. They weren't good at this. But she wouldn't be alone, at least.
They let the sea and the stars greet them. The vague vision danced around in their mind, flickering in and out, like the ocean waves. They missed having actual dreams. It seemed the communication line with Darius and Madison overrid them. They used to have lovely reoccurring dreams about building sandcastles on the beach. When all this was over, they'd return, wouldn't they?
They really wanted to go home. They wanted to go home to their own room, to be held in someone's arms and told things were going to be alright. Their body was so large, and heavy, and wrong.
They were crying. Not good. Not here. Not in public. Akeidat buried their face in their arms, hoping the wet fur would remain inconspicuous enough to go unnoticed.
An unknown amount of time had passed when they felt Fiera shake them awake. They peered up from their slumber, dazed and heavy.
Fiera cocked her head towards the door. Back to the train, then.
The walk to the station was slow and quiet. Crickets chirped from somewhere in the bushes. The sky was dark, and the moon's reflection shone brightly on the surface of the sea. The streetlights seemed, interestingly enough, dimmer than they were in the present; warm hues of orange-yellow showering down rather than bright white.
Akeidat didn't know what they were doing, here. How were they supposed to fix this?
They looked at the sky. A handful of stars; definitely not as many in the shared dream, but more than they'd ever seen in their real life, shone above. They'd read about this, before. The brighter the city, the emptier the skies. There was something about it disturbing animals. Was light pollution not as much of an issue, in the future?
"Your boss is wrong, by the way. I think your ears look nice," they blurted out. Fiera stopped, and peered at them with another blank gaze. Right. No backing out of this, now.
"Pardon?" Fiera asked.
"They're interesting to look at, from the back," they explained, gesturing at their own ears, "The circles look like false eyes, like tigers and moths have to scare predators away. And since your ears are bigger, I think that makes the circles bigger, too. You look really cool."
They couldn't see her face all that well in the dark. They hoped they hadn't just offended her.
"Huh," she finally said, "I've never thought about it that way. Thanks."
Then she turned around, and began walking again. Akeidat followed suit. Eventually, they walked past what Akeidat recognised as some sort of giant ice-cream machine, a screen at the side, presumably for picking flavours. Rows of little paper cups were provided for sale for a few cents.
A sign at the front, read:
REDUCE, REUSE, RECYCLE. SAVE MONEY ON CUPS BY BRINGING YOUR OWN!
"Do you wanna get ice-cream?" Akeidat asked, catching up to her, feeling around their pocket. They had no cup, but they did have a wallet, the coins and notes jingling as they dug through it. They still didn't really know how banking and cards and deposits worked; they just hoped the machine would accept the physical cash, and they wouldn't need this pocket change for something else later on.
"This late at night?" Fiera questioned, an eyebrow raised.
"Yeah," They nodded, and before they could stop themself, "I'll pay. I'd like to wash out the horrible bread taste."
"Pfft, sure," she shrugged.
"What flavour do you want?"
"I'm fine with anything."
Akeidat tilted their head, "You're sure? Don't you have a favourite?"
Fiera was silent, again, for a moment. She raised her paw, lowered it, then raised it again. Finally, she decided, "I'll take mint, if they have it. Or lemon."