“What was our dad like?” Saryam asked, curling herself up on Sarkiin’s bed.
Sarkiin laid next to Saryam and wrapped and wrapped an arm around her so she could lay on their chest. This storytime routine was so familiar that it was almost automatic. They sighed and said, “He was kinda goofy I guess. A real softie. Maybe it’s nostalgia, but I swear he made the best food I’ve ever had in my life. He had a saying that was something like, ‘A life is only as good as that which fuels it.’ I didn’t really understand that until we came here and had to eat Master T’fas’ cooking on the regular.
“Kind of a scaredy cat too. One time, I brought in a very cute little mole from outside. You were, like, super fresh at the time. Maybe 2 months? He had you in his lap when I came in and I put it on your chest because I thought you’d think it was cute too. When Dad saw it, he nearly threw you across the room.”
The two laughed like it wasn’t the 476th time they’d had this conversation. It was comforting to be able to comfort Saryam in this way. “And then what happened?” she asked.
“Well Mom heard Dad scream like a little baby from the next room. She rushed in, already scolding us about making a ruckus. But she barely got a full sentence in before she noticed all three of us laughing our asses off. I guess it got to her because pretty soon she was laughing too.”
When she finally stopped laughing to breathe, Saryam said “She wasn’t mad about the mole?”
“Oh no she was pissed about the mole! She took a couple minutes to notice it, and then she chased it out of the house with a broom. Then she chased me with the broom!”
This was Saryam’s favorite part apparently. The little sadist used to love framing Sarkiin for petty little things like hiding T’fas’ tools or painting rooms without permission (how she even learned to paint at five was still a mystery), so that wasn’t too surprising.
“What else can you tell me about mom?”
“Well, she loved to work. She was always looking for something to clean or fix. Someone to help. A lot of things that were hard for others were easy for her. So she went out of her way for people whenever she could. And it always brought out the best in people. They’d take care of us in the ways that weren’t as easy for our parents.”
“What do you think our lives would be like if they were still alive? Do you think it’d be easier?”
Saryam had never asked that before. For a brief moment, they felt panicked. Then the guilt they’d barely been keeping at bay started to surface. Their face must’ve said it all because Saryam was starting to look concerned. She had no idea what the answer to that question would really mean. And this was the closest Sarkiin had been to spilling those particular beans in a while. They wanted to more than anything. They wanted Saryam to know the truth about their family. But they couldn’t. It would hurt her too much, and Sarkiin couldn’t bear the thought. Especially not this close to finally getting their revenge. They took a breath, steadied themself, and tried to seem normal about the situation.
“Are you okay? Please don’t throw up on me.”
Sarkiin laughed. It was almost mostly genuine. “Yeah. Sorry. I- I just try not to think about that.”
“Why not?” They could tell Saryam was actually a little upset at their answer. “Why wouldn’t you want to know what it’d be like to have our family whole again?”
“That’s not it! It’s just…” They trailed off, not knowing how to answer.
“Just what?” Saryam sat up and looked Sarkiin in the eye when they didn’t respond. “Just what?” she asked again.
“Look, there are some things you just wouldn’t understand. It hurts so much already knowing they’re gone. Trying to imagine what the future could’ve held just makes it hurt more.” It wasn’t a lie, but that didn’t make it feel any less crappy to not tell the whole truth.
Saryam let some of the tension out of her body. “That makes some sense, I guess,” she said.
Sarkiin felt relief. It was honestly a miracle the topic hadn’t come up until now. “Well, what do you think we’d be doing if not this?”
“Well,” Saryam nearly giggled the word, “obviously I’d be in school. And you’d be about to graduate. It’d be a real Even Stevens type of situation-” (“Who the hell told you about Even Stevens?”) “-except in reverse because you’re way more like Louis and I’m more of a Ren. And also we don’t have an older brother. So maybe this is a bad comparison. You’d probably be apprenticing with a mechanic or going off to be a trucker. I’ll be on my way to becoming the first chef with four Michelin Stars. We’ll both have our own friends, but still make plenty of time for each other. Everyone would think I’m super cool. I’d probably have to beat some of my classmates up for calling you weird or something. It’s true, you’re quite strange, but I’m the only one who’s allowed to make fun of you for it. Why are you crying? This is good stuff!”
Sarkiin was suddenly aware that their eyes were very warm and their sister was very blurry. “This is why I don’t think about this stuff,” they said. “There’s a whole life full of promise and potential that neither of us will ever get to experience. It’s so unfair. Especially to you! You’d barely been alive a whole year before we came here. It’s so unfair.”
Before they could push the feelings away, Sarkiin felt themself overwhelmed by the grief they’d never let themself really feel. They sobbed, and sobbed, and sobbed. Saryam held onto them and they cried together. How could Sarkiin have held all this back without realizing? How’d they get so twisted up?
“Hey, look,” Saryam said through her tears. “I’m gonna get a killer migraine if we keep this up. Let’s go make some lunch and watch a movie or something.”
Sarkiin almost agreed. It felt like they’d been crying there for forty three hours. Carrying on with their day, settling their nerves as instructed. They didn’t want to, though. Not without telling Saryam all of the truth.
“Yams, before we do that, there’s something else I should tell you.”
“Okay? What is it?”
“Well… This is kind of hard to say. I don’t even know where to start.” Sarkiin started to feel the tears coming back. They were tired of crying. They took the out. “I think we need to finally watch Zëiram. I’m tired of putting it off.” They figured they’d try again after lunch.
They didn’t, though. The pair ate their lunch and watched their movie. Saryam had a lot to say about it, and she was excited to watch the sequel. Sarkiin thought it was fine, but wasn’t really too focused. They’d been trying to figure out the right way to tell her what she deserved to know. But Saryam seemed to be in a really good mood. Not that her moods were normally bad, but she was usually so serious. Too steady for someone who’d just turned 14. It was always nice to see her get excited about something. Killing someone was probably pretty low on the list of things a teenager should be excited about, but Sarkiin didn’t care as long as it got the job done. Why kill the vibe now, when there was a whole week ahead to do so?