Chapter 2: Back in Saila
1103 Words
Returning to Saila after years in Barau felt… off.
Not bad. Not good.
Just incomplete.
Like I had stepped back into a life that still fit—but no longer felt like mine.
I stood in front of the mirror longer than I needed to that morning, not really looking for anything new. Just… checking. Making sure everything still looked the same. It always did.
“You’re staring at yourself like you’re about to argue with your reflection,” Freya said from behind me.
“I’m thinking.”
“That’s worse.”
I turned slightly. “How is that worse?”
“Because every time you say that, you either overthink or say something confusing.”
“I don’t do that.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“…Okay, sometimes.”
Work didn’t give me time to stay in my head for long.
Architecture wasn’t what I had imagined it to be when I first chose it. It wasn’t just ideas or creativity—it was correction, precision, constant evaluation. Every line had to justify itself. Every design had to prove it deserved to exist.
“This doesn’t feel intentional,” my senior said, flipping through my work without looking at me.
“It is intentional.”
“Then your intention needs work.”
Freya leaned over from the side. “That’s professional language for ‘start over.’”
“I got that part,” I muttered.
The firm was different from Barau, but not in the way I expected. New place, new people—but the pattern stayed the same.
People noticed.
People looked.
People didn’t approach.
And when they did—
it wasn’t really for me.
“Wait—you actually know them?”
Freya’s voice cut through my thoughts as we sat at our usual spot after work, tucked away just enough from everything else to feel separate.
“I mean… yeah.”
“That’s not what I asked,” she said, leaning forward. “You know them.”
I exhaled slowly. “Nish isn’t exactly my real brother. He’s adopted. But we grew up together. And Ray… he’s his best friend. He’s always been around.”
Freya blinked.
Then again.
“Kiana.”
“What?”
“You’re casually connected to the two most talked-about men in this city.”
“They’re just people.”
“They are not just people. Have you seen them?”
“…Yes.”
“Exactly.”
“They have a reputation,” she added.
“They have faces,” I corrected.
She gave me a look. “Those faces are the problem.”
I didn’t argue.
Because she wasn’t wrong.
It had been the same in Barau. People watched them. Followed them. Waited for attention that wasn’t always given.
Nish leaned into it. He always had—easy, effortless, never taking anything too seriously.
Ray didn’t.
Which somehow made him worse.
“Quiet ones are always more interesting,” Freya said thoughtfully.
“You’ve never met him.”
“I don’t need to. I already know.”
“That’s concerning.”
“It’s intuition.”
“It’s assumption.”
“It’s accurate.”
…Annoyingly, it probably was.
“They dated a lot, didn’t they?”
“They talked to people.”
“Kiana.”
“Okay, yes.”
“Both?”
“Yes.”
Freya leaned back, shaking her head. “Unfair.”
“You’re telling me.”
She studied me for a second, like she was trying to figure something out that didn’t quite make sense.
“So no one talks to you?”
“No.”
“No one?”
“No one.”
“That makes zero sense.”
“It does.”
“How?”
I shrugged lightly. “People don’t approach things they think are out of reach.”
Freya stared at me.
“That is the most frustrating answer you could’ve given.”
“It’s also the most accurate.”
Later that night, my phone buzzed against the table beside my bed.
Ray.
My chest tightened before I could stop it.
I picked up. “Hi.”
“You’re awake.”
“You sound surprised.”
“It’s late.”
“And?”
“…Fair.”
I smiled slightly.
“Things okay?” he asked.
“Yeah. Just… Saila feels smaller.”
“Smaller how?”
“Like everyone keeps their distance.”
“Smart people,” Nish’s voice cut in from the background.
I rolled my eyes. “You invited yourself again.”
“I didn’t invite myself. I was already here.”
“That’s worse.”
“I like knowing things.”
“That’s not reassuring.”
Ray laughed softly.
And just like that—
something in me settled.
“Any guys bothering you?” Nish asked.
“Why do you care?”
“Because I can.”
“That’s not a reason.”
“It’s enough for me.”
“I can handle myself.”
“I know,” he said easily. “Still going to ask.”
We drifted after that. Work, schedules, complaints that didn’t really matter but filled the silence easily.
Normal things.
Easy things.
But mostly—
I listened.
To Ray.
To the way his voice stayed steady, calm, familiar in a way nothing else was anymore.
After the call ended, the room felt quieter.
Not peaceful.
Just… empty.
I turned slightly, catching my reflection in the dark window. Blurred, faint, barely there.
Still the same person people noticed—
and stayed away from.
Still the same person who didn’t quite fit anywhere completely.
And no matter how much I told myself this was what I wanted—
that I had chosen this—
there was still something I couldn’t ignore.
Some part of me
was still there.
With them.
*Kopara didn’t sleep. It sharpened.
Nish and Ray moved through it like any other residents on the surface—long hours, exhaustion, routines that blurred into each other. But nothing about it was accidental. Every shift, every connection, every decision was part of something larger, something that had been set in motion long before they arrived.
Zion moved the same way.
Different field. Same precision.
Law gave him a different kind of control—structured, deliberate, quiet in its execution. Where others forced outcomes, he shaped them.
Three paths.
Running parallel.
Never separate.
Training never really ended. It only changed form.
And miles away in Saila—
Kiana was doing the same in her own way.
Designing. Building. Creating something she believed belonged entirely to her.
Unaware that the world she had stepped away from
had never really let her go.
- Writer
