Chapter Text
Four weeks. It was strange to look at the calendar and realize time actually did continue to pass normally. Normalcy was gone forever. Then again, it had been demolished with the loss of her beloved mother and now… As a nurse, Anya knew full well how fragile human life was and how precious it could be. As a person with a soulmate at the end of a long wait, she knew full well how anything could happen and she could wake up one day realizing they’d never meet, with ugly black smears across her right wrist. It still hurt though. And it was still her fault, no matter what anyone said.
The comforting glow of the Dreamscape advertisement was like a beacon of hope when she stumbled home from the funeral. An escape from this reality where each movement of life reminded her of what was not. Was it a coward’s move? Then she was a coward: she wanted a reprieve. A colleague whom she confided in her plans looked pityingly and wondered out loud if there ever really was a way to deal with loss. Underneath the supportive gaze, Anya heard full well the well-intended reality: you deal by continuing to live. Going in a dreamless sleep was essentially like being dead. Anya figured a taste of it could give her a sense of what it is like. At the core though, what she really wanted was for a fast forward. She knew life moved on. She knew she had to move on with it. But she didn’t want to have to go through the same pain that she endured when her mother died and the family first began to fracture. She knew that agony well enough and was experienced enough to know that there was no reward or renewed strength that came from a second round. A year later things will have obviously moved on from the tragedy that is everywhere in everyone’s minds. Then, she’ll have to move on too. It’s easier to do so when you have to.
It wasn’t a good thing to think of, but secretly Anya also wanted a break from having to live with the wait. A blessing it was to have soulmate numbers, and yet Anya would have to wait decades to meet her match. Some people never got to meet theirs, but the majority of people did not wait decades. That made Anya a little sad. By the time they’d meet, she’d be halfway through her lifespan, although that was not the gist of it. Even though soulmate bonds were varied and diverse, even breaking stereotypical norms, romantic relationships did make up a good portion of soulmate relationships. Yes there were deep platonic relationships as well, but history and society tends to focus on the romantic side of things as per usual. It wasn’t fair, Anya thought, to date someone in the meantime only with the end goal of dedicating herself to her soulmate. Some people she knew had no problem dating for fun and just for experience. She couldn’t do that. Perhaps her soulmate could, but she couldn’t. Granted, she didn’t really garner much attention from suitors of any kind growing up, but then again she never was that social. It was hard though to have to see others her age get together with their soulmate. Those two women at Dreamscape were a sharp slap from reality that she couldn’t fall to pieces now. If for nothing else, she owed it to whomever was on the other end to not be a total mess. Even though that was many years away, Anya knew that the death of her sister and mother would carry out long after let alone the scars and splintering relationship with her remaining family. She had to try.
That said, one of the most important lessons they taught young children was to not revolve your life around the possibility of a soulmate. A year’s time would be fleeting to the many others she’d have to wait. And another 25 years she would have to anyways… Anya frowned. She had subconsciously looked at the numbers on her wrist. They read 12:01:05. That was twelve days. She sighed. She really was getting out of it. A call from her fellow nurses snapped her out of her stupor. It was time to return to reality.
Hours later, shift done, Anya trekked home alone, as usual, through the snow. The winter wasn’t so bad in this particular city, but the chill was just as bad as it got. Frankly, she didn’t feel it at all. The white snow covered the grounds like a mask, hiding unpleasant memories and covering shameful secrets. She bent down to pick up a half-covered bill. Enough to buy someone dinner. The snow felt numbing in a good way. Like anesthesia she thought. The cheek-grazing wind helped carry the falling bill into the tattered hat of a tired, cold man sitting on the steps in the public park. On any other day, she’d have spared a glance and a greeting but it seemed she was as numb as the snow.
Dinner was a simple meal of chicken and noodle soup. One of her closer friends made it for her (along with a stack of other meals) and it tasted of care and concern. Outside of work, she had little energy to do anything really. Distraction wasn’t enough from the gnawing storm inside of her; heaven knew she needed that year long rest. She idly turned her head toward the flurry of pigeons outside. Gray mixed with white like the winter outside. Her eyes sharpened. That was right, she needed to check something. Anya rolled up her sleeve to see it counting down, same as ever. Only it wasn’t exactly the same as always.