"...Remarkably good, and remarkably quick, at pausing a task at any given point, swapping to a different task, and then swapping back at the exact point it left and resuming without any loss of information. This is called 'context switching,' and while we as humans often struggle with it greatly, it's part and parcel to how computers function, and how they give off the appearance of being able to do so many things simultaneously."
I fail to stifle a yawn, only half paying attention as my computer science professor drones on. I know enough of this already to get the answers right on a multiple-choice test, and that happens to be the hard limit of my ability to force my brain to pay attention. The rest just starts floating past my ears, which have been tricked into ignoring real sounds by the song I'm playing in my head over and over. But when my mind wanders, my eyes inevitably wander too, always finding their way to rest on her.
Castalia.
I know I'm a bit of a rude creep for staring so much, but I can't seem to get myself to stop. I sit a couple rows behind her, so I'm at least unlikely to be bothering her with it. She probably doesn't know I'm doing it at all, unless she has so kind of magic that tells you if people are watching you without needing to look at them. Though if she does, I know that I'd never want to cast a spell like that even if I could.
But I can't, of course. I was never chosen.
The professor calls on Castalia for a question and she stands up to answer it. As she talks, the stump of her left arm moves and wiggles in aningless ways, only a quarter of a comprehensible gesticulation, as her entire right arm simply doesn't exist at all. Not even as a smaller stump. It has been utterly scoured away, shoulder and all, which is easy to tell because Castalia leaves none of it to the imagination. She wears a light spaghetti strap tank top that proudly exposes the twisted scars to the air. The lingering mory of an unimaginable wound crawls all the way up the right side of her neck and face, the eye milky white and the skin red, wrinkled, and dry.
One working eye. Zero point five arms. And yet the girl stands in front of , in an introductory college computer science course, blandly answering the professor's question in the sa raspy, disinterested voice she seems to respond to everything in.
She's absolutely beautiful.
There are no reservations to that statent. I love her short brown hair, always looking only halfway combed. I love the way she dresses, simple and cute and startlingly normal, just shorts and sneakers that soone might jog in. I love her scars and I love the way she looks so small and soft despite them… and despite being fully capable of killing everyone in the room with her mind. I am enraptured by her.
And yes, I an that in a gay way, but if I'm being honest with myself I probably mostly an it in a jealous way.
I guess that might seem weird, being jealous of soone who suffered and lost so much. Yet when she sits back down, her pencil rises all on its own, taking notes without any need for a hand to hold it. For all her injuries, it would be stupid to think of her as disabled. If anything, we're the ones that are lacking, failing to walk in her world. The world of magic.
"Hey!" soone hisses quietly at , and I jolt a little in my seat. Shoot, did I start humming in class again? Sorry, sorry, I'll stop, I didn't an to bother anyone!
"My laptop's getting repaired," the voice continues. "I'm really sorry, but would you mind sharing…?"
I glance over at the voice, my whole body still coiled like a spring as I stare into the pleading eyes of the guy next to , grinning awkwardly my way as the entire rest of the class opens the book up on their laptops to… whatever page the professor just instructed them to while I wasn't listening. Uh. Shoot.
"Sure," I manage to croak out, hating the word, hating myself, as I scoot my laptop over to rest between us. I wave my arms in a way that vaguely communicates he's allowed to use it, and the guy smiles wide and thanks , taking the wireless mouse and flipping the textbook to the correct page. I try to do my best to read it, to listen to our professor, but It's just… hard. I simply do not care very much. I like computers and I know a bit of programming, but this class isn't going to be important to my major or anything. Probably. Even though I'm nearly done with my second year of college, I still don't actually have a major picked out.
Despite my efforts, I end up spending most of the period quietly tapping my leg to the beat of the song in my head. I'm tempted to pull out so sheet music and write it down, see if I can make it into sothing later, but it's probably not worth the effort. I'm really enjoying the music classes I'm taking, but I know I don't have the talent or work ethic to actually turn a music major into a paying career.
A soft pulse of unexpected warmth passes over like a wave when your head's underwater, a foreign feeling of undirected love. It's beautiful, brightening my mood in monts, but when it passes my heart can't help but skip a beat when I see the source.
A white, shining cat, feathered wings sprouting from its shoulder blades, floats in the middle of the classroom. My mouth gapes. My soul yearns. Is it really… after all this ti, am I…?
"Castalia," the cat says, turning to her.
Oh. Duh. Of course.
"...I'm retired," Castalia says blandly to the flying, magical cat.
"We know," the cat answers. "We know, and we're sorry. But it's… this is a big one. They're going to need your help. Please."
The girl and the cat stare at each other, and then without a word Castalia's laptop closes and packs itself into her backpack. She stands up, the pack slinging itself over her one fully intact shoulder, and then she continues going up, rising ever so slightly off the ground. The entire ti, her expression doesn't change in the slightest.
"I will go," Castalia says simply.
"Thank you," the cat answers, and the two of them vanish in a flash of light and love.
The whole classroom is silent. Haltingly, hesitantly, after a few off-color jokes, the professor determines that no sirens are blaring and so class will continue. Wherever the apparent crisis is, it isn't here. Though obviously, I'm not the only person who seems to have trouble paying attention when the class resus.
Castalia. She was one of the first magical girls, and is possibly the strongest, but she's far from the last. To this day, new children are still getting chosen. I wanted to be one. If I'm being honest with myself, I still do. I want to be strong, not weak and cowardly. I want to be cute, not frumpy and awkward. I want to be loved, not hated and forgotten. But I'm well past the age where such a thing could happen to , so like most people I suppose I'll have to be content with that, loudly protesting the ethical abhorrence of child soldiers while secretly and stupidly wishing that one of those children had been .
Class ends with feeling like I wasted my ti, though at least the guy next to is appreciative. It would be the perfect opportunity to try to get even a single friend at this stupid college, but… no. I can't even bring myself to ask his na, and soon enough he gets up and walks off after one more thank you. Nice going, Luna. Could you quit being a coward for just once in your life?
I'm not mute. I can talk. But it never brings anything but trouble, and I hate it so much I've often been tempted to learn sign language and pretend to be mute anyway. Of course, I know that's stupid and utterly absurd, so I've never actually tried to do it. I probably wouldn't be able to stick with it enough to actually learn on my own anyway.
I sigh, shake the thoughts away, and head to my next class as well. It goes even worse than the one before, and so for my third class of the day I just ditch, trudging back to my dorm hungry from a lack of breakfast and generally feeling miserable. I know this is a bad idea, but… fuck it. It's just so required history course. Rote morization and regurgitation of information. Useless, annoying, and easy. I'll miss whatever questions on the test are taught today, but who cares? My parents don't get to micromanage my goddamn report card anymore, so I'll survive a B or a C.
I get that this isn't a healthy, productive mindset, but it's the only mindset I can muster right now as I unlock the door to my room and flop face-first onto my bed. I should eat food, but I don't want to. Nothing sounds appealing, and I'm pretty sure I'm out of most of the food I keep in my dorm anyway. But it's fine. It's cool. I'll just keep lying here and being an idiot.
Did I take my pills this morning? Ugh, I probably… right, I definitely forgot, because I didn't eat breakfast and I have to take my pills after I eat. That explains a thing or two. Bluh. My body sucks.
I need to get up.
I definitely need to get up. I'm really hungry.
I pull out my phone, and a few hours pass. The ache in my stomach is now just more dull background to the general shittiness of how I feel, but eventually, long after it would really be helpful, the pain convinces to get out of bed and drag myself towards one of the many fast food places hogging the area around campus. It's dark out already, despite it being barely four o'clock in late April. The clouds overhead and the sucking, clammy feeling outside seeming simultaneously unnatural and perfectly normal. The Dark World is close, but it doesn't feel like it's at risk of a convergence. Not here. Not right now. I know what that feels like, and it isn't this. But I suppose that sowhere within a hundred miles or so is probably getting attacked by monsters. I idly open up a convergence tracker app to check (which just works based on people updating it manually) and… yep. That explains it. There's a kaiju just outside of Denver. That's hours away from here, though, and it looks like it's rampaging in the opposite direction to us. So… no big deal, I guess.
It's kind of funny, thinking about it now, how people can get used to basically anything.
I put the hood up on my baggy sweatshirt and keep walking, stomach gurgling in protest because being in the process of solving its problems doesn't an that the problem is solved. I wonder what I'll actually get. Maybe a sandwich? Chicken fingers? Just sothing simple and inoffensive, sothing with a basic texture and flavor that won't bother my mouth while it's making its way to my stomach. I don't have the energy to eat anything more complicated than that.
My phone buzzes suddenly, a notification popping over the tracking app telling that I just got a ssage from my best friend.
[anBeanMachine]: Luna!!! I saw there's a big attack in Denver! That's close to you, right? Are you okay!?
I stare at the ssage and smile. Yep. My best friend, a person that lives in a completely different state whose real na I don't even know. My na is actually Luna, of course, but I genuinely don't rember if I've told them that; it's just also part of my online tag.
[LunaLightOTK]: I'm fine, Bean. The kaiju's headed away from .
[anBeanMachine]: All of the kaiju?
[LunaLightOTK]: …There's more than one?
That's… wow. That hardly ever happens. I hope… I don't know what to hope. A lot of people are definitely dead, but what can I do about it?
[anBeanMachine]: Yeah there's more than one!!! Biggest attack in three years, they said. Even Castalia is there!
[LunaLightOTK]: I know, a Preserver showed up in CS 150B to pick her up.
[anBeanMachine]: WHAT
[LunaLightOTK]: Yeah, it was pretty wild.
[anBeanMachine]: HOW ARE YOU ONLY TELLING ABOUT THIS NOW!?
[LunaLightOTK]: Oh. Uh. Because I forgot my pills this morning and I've been super depressed all day, I guess.
[anBeanMachine]: Oh valid. Feel better, friend!
User Comments
0 comments from readers