26 Comfort

After Gen escaped StarGroove and Aether—who had given her a fright by almost recognizing her—she shed her disguise and returned to his estate. She visited Mind, who was placed into her room, and planned to arrive at the meeting afterwards.

A medic holding a small tablet stood beside the pod, reading the various indicators telling him about Mind's condition. Unlike doctors, medics were more attuned to helping people than dissecting them.

"How is he?" Gen asked, and the medic leapt.

"Sorry, I didn't see you."

"Will he be waking up soon?"

The medic pursed his lips. "I think you should sit down."

"So, coma," Gen said, feeling the sudden tightness of the room. Her head swirled, and she left, staggering through the halls, trying to keep the tears at bay.

Be tough, be tough, she chanted to herself. She found herself drifting towards the image of Aether's mother and looking for the hidden weapons for comfort. Of course she wouldn't be able to open the display, she grumbled with soft hiccups. She rested her back against the painting, slid to the ground, and buried her head in her palms.

What was she going to do? Mind was everything to her, and she feared that his aura break would interfere with his ability to wake up. A normal person would have a higher chance of awakening, but Mind? His aura contained a hodgepodge of imbued talents and side effects to hack and pinpoint weaknesses, but his actual aura break turned his brain into a computer, sort of.

Gen didn't understand the details—such as whether it affected his thinking process—but he could store his memories as files and send packets of data to other devices through an intangible connection. Sometimes, Mind's fingers danced through the air, typing and sending her messages. Other times, he pinched the wind and plucked down private conversations.

Gen croaked a small laugh. She would miss the way he huddled in the corner, eyes wandering as he sent her pictures of refrigerator models and coffee makers. He'd also send her interesting tidbits of news—the only kind of news Gen paid attention to.

Even if it was the exasperating "I <3 you," she begged for him to immediately awaken and send her another text.

Without Mind, she felt lost and vulnerable like a lone moon drifting through a sea of foreign stars. He tethered her with a semblance of home, and he encouraged her to meet people—an irony since he was the anti-social super-hacker. He also completed the missing pieces of her knowledge and let her have some fun by running errands—whether that be stealing contraband computers for him or replacing an elite's microwave oven with a knock-off brand item.

Gen rubbed her eyes, remembering the meeting Aether wanted her to partake in. Politics. The word churned her stomach and discouraged her already downtrodden self. She hated politics, and so had left them to Mind, trusting him that if there was anything she needed to know, he would tell her.

Be tough, be tough, she told herself, but her chanting failed. Weak, she hugged her knees, and the cold floor gave no comfort. How was she to do this?

The thought of fleeing crossed her mind: to take Mind and head to another constellation before Janus discovered them. But then what would she do? How would she alter their identities if they couldn't hack into a system and re-implant themselves into the identity code database?

She ground her teeth as the tears poured, angry at herself. How would she protect Mind? And why was Janus such a hound?

"Gen," a word pierced her ears like an exploding plasma core; her head snapped up. Aether stood before her, and he crouched, lowering himself so that his eyes were level with hers. "Do you know the time?"

"What's up?" She forced a smile then ran her fingers through her hair, as if nothing bothered her. "Sorry, man, forgot about the meeting."

Shaking his head, Aether placed his palm against her cheek and brushed her tears with his thumb.

Gen stiffened, and that warmth... She craved it. Her eyes lowered, and she thought of all her failed dates and all the broken relationships due to either herself or Janus's untimely appearance.

To receive care from a playboy, she disdained how pathetic it sounded; and a strained, self-deprecating laugh forced itself through her lips.

A part of her wished Mind was right: that she understood little about people and their relations, and that she often judged people wrongly.

She wanted Aether's care to be sincere, yet she feared sincerity. It was easier to abandon people you didn't like, and it was easier to remember the failed dates over the happy ones. They hurt less after abrupt partings.

And maybe one day, she'd find someone who would accept her eccentric tendencies and wouldn't leave her—someone who would love and follow her no matter how much Janus wanted them dead. Sometimes she asked herself why Janus was so persistent, but she only stamped the question with "because Janus was evil." She didn't think of the reasonings behind his actions because he seemed too distant from love and what she thought truly mattered.

"If you want to cry, then cry," Aether said and lifted her; or maybe he was just trying to hug her. Either way, Gen assented to a carry and wrapped her arms around his neck and plastered herself to his torso. His body stiffened; then he rose, supporting her with one hand beneath her and the other on her back.

As she savored his warmth, Gen snorted. "Do I look like a softie? Just because I have a female package does not mean I'm a crybaby."

"A crybaby?" He smiled, and his orange eyes faded into a midnight blue, shocking her as she perceived a small will-o'-wisp of aura. She touched his lids and examined his irises. He said, "I've cried too."

Gen raised a brow; then, realizing she was touching his face, pulled away her hand and flushed red. She hid her blush against his neck. So warm, and his heady scent assailed her like fresh clay after rainfall.

She grew giddy and asked, "Do you use that line on a lot of women?"

"No." He shook his head and carried her towards her room.

"I don't believe you."

"I really have cried," he said, dodging the topic. Crying was believable—he threw tantrums and froze things willy-nilly, so why wouldn't he cry too? But, the image of someone so masculine and handsome as him covered in tears disconcerted her. Aether explained, "I cried when I had realized my sister had died."

"Realized?"

He nodded. "It just...clicked one day, and I had burst into tears. It was a year after she and my father had died. I was thirteen when it happened, and fourteen when I had realized it."

"How does that work?" Gen asked then shook her head. "You don't—"

"It's fine. I want to tell you." His body exuded heat—his aura, most likely; and it soothed her. "My sister and I had gone on a trip with my father. I don't remember the details, but somebody killed him then kidnapped us. When the empress dowager retrieved me, my sister was already dead and I had been standing in her blood. For the following year my mind had been hazy as if someone had altered my memories and erased that week."

Gen gripped the back of his shirt. "I'm sorry for your loss. I never knew about your sister."

"Few people know she existed. Her aura break was...peculiar...so my parents had kept her a secret. I also cried when my cousin had died, Janus's older sister. Murdered, just like my sister. I was sixteen."

"Would you..." Gen stopped her question and went silent. She feared the possible answer.

"Ask me anything."

She scoffed and gave him a half smile. "What happened to you being cold and tight-lipped?"

"I'll tell you anything." Aether smiled, and Gen feared her cheeks would permanently dye themselves red.

She tugged at her sideburns. "Would you be saddened if Prince Janus died?"

His eyes blazed orange, and aura swirled around him, its coldness stinging Gen's skin. Why had she asked that? Dread overcame her, but then he said, "No. He and his father were the reasons for their deaths."

Gen raised a brow as a guilty sense of happiness flooded her body. She shouldn't be happy Janus had killed them, but Aether's hate delighted her. It stroked her petty side. "And you know that for sure?"

He nodded. "I had a hunch at first, but then I received a letter from someone who had never existed. He insinuated a connection and confirmed my suspicions."

"They just sent you a letter? And you just believed it? Pretty odd and suspicious." Gen stared into his eyes; they were turning blue again.

"It contained some things that no one else should have known."

"Why are you telling me this?" Gen rested her chin on his shoulder and gazed at the floor. "I'm just a new recruit."

"Do you know how many subordinates I have?" Aether tightened his grip, and she shook her head. He said, "Five, if I include you and Reya. Or at least, officially."

"That doesn't answer my question."

Aether whispered into her ear. "I trust you, and I wanted to tell you."

Gen tilted her head and wrinkled her nose. "Man, you have issues if you trust me."

"Then, tell me why I shouldn't."

"I could disappear with your secrets, and you don't know if I'm a spy for Prince Janus."

Aether chuckled. "I doubt it."

She could've been, and with Mind's help she could disappear too. The latter thought caused sadness to return to her, and she realized how much Aether had calmed her. She had forgotten her worries like a young child sitting beside their family home's hearth.

Arriving at her room, Aether carried her inside, and she pointed towards Mind, meaning for him to place her beside the healing pod. The medic was gone, having left after discovering Mind was in a coma.

Aether dragged over a chair and sat, keeping her in his lap. She leaned into him, basking in his warmth as she pondered the possibility of him not being a playboy. To her, the chances seemed slim, and a biting pain encroached the rims of her heart.

She wanted him to see her as more than a female creature—as a person who had emotions and wants and needs. Someone bold, daring, and masculine yet sometimes feminine. A gender-fluid man who just wanted to be loved for being herself—even if that meant accepting her petty grudges, aggressive urges, and lying guises.

As her wishes blurred her eyes, she gazed at Mind's slumbering face.

She thought of disguising herself then prying from Aether his opinion of her, but past experiences had made her pessimistic. Too many times she had heard exasperated rants about her eccentricities: she was too manly, spent too much time with her vehicle, smuggled too many weapons, wouldn't wear a dress, was too shy to kiss him but could wrestle a twelve-armed monster, and her face was too forgettable, her brother too pestering...

And sometimes, the man pretended she didn't exist then attempted to hook up with her disguise.

Gen gnawed her lower lip.

If only she had Mind to ask about Aether's thoughts, because at least her brother would sugar coat it. But he was in an indefinite coma, deemed so by technology she wished wasn't so advanced and accurate.

Would she be left all alone?

Be tough, she told herself, fingers gripping Aether's shirt. The man's quiet presence seemed to bolster her conviction to be courageous.

This time, her chant kept away the tears, and she eventually fell asleep.