Glass memory

The tunnel twists tighter the farther we go, like the world's folding in on itself. Water drips from above in uneven rhythms, echoing off the walls like a ticking clock. Each step feels heavier. Maybe from the silence. Maybe from everything we're not saying.

Sira walks at the back now.

She used to stay close to me. Always a quiet presence, always ready with a look or a breath that reminded me I wasn't alone. But for the last few days, she's lingered near Maika instead. Talks to her in low tones I can't hear. Shares glances that aren't about me.

I don't know when the shift happened. I just know I'm not part of their rhythm anymore.

We take a break near a collapsed relay node. A few half-dead screens flicker dimly. Venu checks the food cache. Ajay lies back against the wall, eyes closed but not sleeping. Aerith scans the route ahead.

Sira approaches, hands in her pockets. I pretend I don't notice until she sits beside me.

"You okay?" I ask.

She shrugs. "Are any of us?"

I don't respond.

"I've been thinking," she says, picking at a frayed seam in her sleeve. "About why we left. Why I left."

I nod slowly. "You ever regret it?"

"No," she says. "But I regret how I followed."

That stings more than I want it to.

"I didn't mean to take control of everything," I say.

"I know," she replies. "But sometimes you take control even when no one asks you to. And then we forget how to speak up."

My throat feels tight. "So now you're speaking through Maika?"

Her gaze lifts to meet mine.

"No. I'm speaking for myself. And sometimes Maika says things I'm too afraid to."

The truth of it sinks in deep.

"So you agree with her?"

"I agree that we need to question things. That we need more than just one voice deciding what happens next."

I nod, but my hands are clenched. "I'm trying. You know I'm trying."

"I do," she says gently. "But trying doesn't always mean listening."

A pause. The air around us shifts.

"I miss us," I whisper.

Sira smiles, sad and real. "Me too. But I won't follow you just because we used to be close. That's not love. That's inertia."

Before I can say anything, Maika calls out from across the tunnel. "Found something. Might be an old filtration valve."

Sira stands.

"I'm still here," she says. "Just not only here."

And she walks toward Maika.

I stay seated.

And for the first time since we ran, I don't know if my best friend is still mine to hold.

To be continued…