I Wish You Were Never Reborn

Shay hopped ahead, turning around to face Tyvan. She placed her hands behind her back and looked up into his gorgeous hazel eyes.

“Then how about... I live out my dreams?”

Her voice shook a little. Her heart was bouncing around her ribcage and her... her scalp felt hot?

Tyvan looked down at her, his brows slightly furrowed. “And what dreams are those?”

“Dreams of fantasy and fairytales,” Shay spread her arms melodramatically, “Dreams of wonder and magic~!”

“I advise you to dream safer and more predictably,” Tyvan replied.

Shay folded her hands in front of her chest. She smiled from the bottom of her heart.

“How about if I dream of warmth and comfort in the arms of someone very close to me?”

Th-thump. Her heart.

Tyvan’s eyes slowly narrowed.

“Yan Xue,” he said... “How much do you remember?”

“Huh?” Shay tilted her head.

Tyvan crossed his arms, rubbing his mouth with his gloved hand.

“Tyvan? What’s wrong?” she asked.

He took a deep breath... and shook his head.

“No. It matters not.” He glanced back up to meet her gaze. “I’m certain that your dreams are more beautiful than mine.”

Shay nodded.

They went back to walking.

She wanted to ask... but it didn’t seem right. There was an emotion in Tyvan’s eyes that she couldn’t recognize. He wasn’t quite disappointed. There was some frustration, but... there was something else.

Her instincts warned her... that if she did ask... then maybe her wants and dreams and her stupid romantic fantasies might get crushed in the fallout.

But that didn’t mean she wanted to run away.

That... she felt would turn out even worse.

“Tyvan,” she said... “can we hang out later?”

“I’d like that,” he said with a defeated sigh, “but considering my schedule...”

The way he said it was cute-- like he had no idea.

“Was that a question or a statement?” Shay asked with a hopeful smile.

“Hmph. I suppose it was a promise,” he said with a playful tone, “But I’ll need to consult with Briar Rose on an appropriate time frame.”

Shay pursed her lips and nodded. It sounded like he’d probably be busy.

He said she was dealing with a burden that wasn't hers to carry. He said he would. For her.

She wanted to ask. What was it? Could she offer to help? Was her helping even possible?

She didn’t. She couldn’t.

--stifled by her doubts... the weight of her emotions...

--her fear.

So... she and Tyvan walked the rest of the way back to Elysium in silence.

Later that day, Shay went about her work, her mind still occupied by... basic insecurities, really.

Tuesday was a general-cleaning day, so it didn’t require any real thought. She kept her work apron on, just in case Raia came to check on them. But she and Yeonha sat in the main common room, watching a K-drama.

That was nice.

Yeonha shared some of her popcorn. It didn’t taste like anything, but it was probably supposed to be sweet and caramel-y.

Suddenly, the Elysian Maid-girl sat up, causing Shay to jump in surprise.

According to the cheap, black-and-white wall clock, it had been over an hour. All the artfully crafted girl-chasing-boy storyline Shay was trying to absorb-- she didn’t remember any of it.

Oh, well~

“Yeonha?” she said, “What’s wrong?”

“Hahh,” Yeona sighed... “The west dorms.”

That... sounded like she forgot to clean the west dorms.

She turned to Shay with a cute pout, “Can you?”

Shay let out a long, drawn-out sigh (jokingly, of course.) “What’s in it for me?”

“My... eternal friendship... and gratitude,” Yeonha said.

“You gave me that last week.”

“Ah--”

Yeonha made a cute noise and her eyes grew wide for a moment. Then, she quickly followed with, “I’ll tell you... Tyvan’s room.”

Uh... huh...

That sounded... potentially spicy.

“And... why would I want to know that?”

“We’ll go... when he’s asleep,” Yeonha said.

“Why would we do that!?” Shay asked, “And what do you mean ‘we’?”

“We split the profits... 50/50,” Yeonha said mysteriously.

Ohhh. She was just being absurd. Classic Yeonha.

“I think I’ll take the first offer,” Shay said.

She got up to leave, Yeonha lazily waving goodbye as she went.

Shay was planning on going for a walk, anyway. Even if it was just across the grounds to the western dorms, it was nice to have something to do... something to distract her that took a little less brainpower than schoolwork (or following drama plotlines, apparently.)

She idly swept the first-floor hallways.

The second floor was still a bit dark and unsettling, but she knew that the ghostly, slightly-offkey singing at the end of the hallway came from someone she knew.

Broom and dustpan in hand, she strolled over to the laundry room and knocked on the door.

“Who is itttt?” came Bishop’s voice.

“It’s ShayYy. Can I come innNn?”

Bishop opened the door, crouching down so his face wasn’t blocked by the overhead.

Dark sunglasses and a radiant smile. White shirt, black vest, black pants: that was usual for Bishop. Ooh, but he had on a black bowtie and a bronze nametag that said ‘P.C. Latorre.’

It looked like he’d just got off work from someplace else, (and hopefully not as a valet, for safety reasons.)

“Shay!” he said, “Hey! I haven’t seen you in forever.”

Still crouched down, he gave her a greeting hug. That was a bit surprising, but Shay squeezed back. (Also, Bishop swung his back foot up, bending at the knee-- that was adorable.)

“We saw each other just last week,” Shay said...

--of course, she immediately realized she was wrong. She was the only one that did the seeing.

Thankfully, Bishop didn’t call attention to the fact.

They walked into the laundry room, filled with the low, rickety hums of washing and drying. The black and yellow tape they put on the stack last week was still as she remembered it.

Two more stacks were marked off, as well-- though one was marked with blue-and-white tape, instead. She decided not to inform Bishop of the fact.

“How’s your sister?” Shay asked.

“Oh, she was really mad, the other day,” Bishop said, smiling awkwardly. “Apparently, someone dented the hood of her Gallivanter. Also, she yelled at me for taking a valet job. And for creasing the pages on a book I borrowed.”

Shay nodded quietly. She wanted to explain that creasing pages was an unforgivable sin. Also, it was absolutely his fault that his sister’s car was damaged.

Buuuut... she didn’t want to bring down the mood, so she changed the subject.

“What have you been working on?” she asked.

Bishop gestured over to a pipe in the corner of the room.

It was leaking and misting...

...purple.

Some sort of... industrial cleaning agent, maybe?

“Is it supposed to be that color?” she asked.

Then, she clenched her eyes shut and felt very stupid.

“What color is it?” Bishop asked.

“...Purple?” Shay said.

“The color of royalty!” Bishop said, “That’s normal, right?”

Oh. He asked that so innocently that Shay felt her heart ache.

“Yes,” she said. “It is absolutely a normal color.”

“Oh, awesome, awesome.” Bishop nodded. “I’ve got to stop the leak for now, but uh... I’m not sure of how exactly I should do it.”

“Should we... replace the pipe?” Shay said.

“Eventually,” Bishop said. “But we gotta do that during the day, so the tenants won’t get affected when we turn off the uh... the ‘oomph.’”

That made sense. She imagined Tyvan would hate getting complaints from people suddenly being unable to get their ‘oomph.’

“So we just need a temporary, keep-it-together fix, right? How do you usually fix things like that?”

“Duct tape,” Bishop said-- and with a weird degree of seriousness.

“Then... let’s use some duct tape?”

Bishop rooted through his duffle bag and produced a thick roll of it. Shay confirmed that he was holding what he thought he was holding. Then, Bishop wrapped the leaky pipe while Shay snipped the tape with her gardening shears.

“Problem solved!” Bishop smiled, “You’re really good at this sort of thing.”

He held his hand out, and Shay automatically high-fived him in return.

“Teamwork!” he said.

“Teamwork!” Shay grinned.

She loved that Bishop thought of her as a problem-solver. The problems that he had, though-- the problems Yeonha and Heidi had, they were all super-simple.

“I just wish I could help Tyvan more,” she sighed.

Bishop pursed his lips, nodding his whole head and neck up and down.

“Yeah, I get that,” he said. “Boss has been super busy, but he’s been doing stuff that only he can do-- meeting with really important, hard-to-talk-to people. But at least we have that thing on Friday at, ah--

Bishop covered his mouth with both hands.

Shay playfully tugged the sleeves of his long arms.

“Friday, at wheRrrRe?”

“Uh. Can you keep a secret?”

“Better than some people.”

“I thiiink Friday’s gonna be your ‘welcoming party’ over at the Ćevap,’” Bishop said. “So you have to act surprised when you hear about it, okay?”

Shay pursed her lips. She’d never heard of a... ‘chevap’ before. It sounded like a place, though?

“Where’s that?”

Bishop stepped aside and gestured behind him-- that long, sweeping bow that was extra cool when a tall-person does it.

There was an old storage locker in the back corner of the laundry room, something that wouldn’t look out of place in a random classroom at her school.

Old. Uninteresting. Maybe not even used.

But there was nothing else in the laundry room he could have been pointing at.

“Check it out!” Bishop said.

His excitement was... infectious. But Shay still felt like she was missing something.

What could be so special about a storage locker?