The Witness that wasn't there

Eighteen

Sleeping in her skin was a renewed kind of joy. No running, no lying, no one else. Beyond the mind of her original form lay no rest. Which was why she'd been able to go weeks without sleep while living as Vayi.

Her first night as Seneseba, she'd fallen into the plush bed that was prepared for her, in her room at Osa's home in Doksiya, Osekoni. It was a simple duplex with multiple rooms, a couple of caretakers, and one guard at the gate. Taking the room overlooking the huge farm in the backyard afforded Seneseba the peace and quiet that lulled her into sleep the moment she arrived.

Peace that she hadn't known in a while.

As the days went by, she found simple things to indulge in. Osekoni was a sector of agriculture. Gardening was an easy, common pastime for the people. With the unease in the country, Seneseba was learning to find her way around commoners without causing trouble. She was, after all, a commoner herself. They were all millennia younger than she was, but they were still normal enough for her to interact with, and vibe with when she went to the market.

In the neighborhood, there was a sports arena for the locals. Sometimes, when she walked back from the market, she liked to stop and watch some games. She liked volleyball. She liked the way the players could make the ball float in the air as if in slow motion. It reminded her of the breeziness of switching minds, of the silence before things flooded in.

One day, she was going to walk up and ask to join. Not yet. But one day.

When she returned from the market, that evening, there was a new voice in the house. A loud, cackling, nervous voice of a woman. Walking into the sitting room where Osa had, once again gotten rid of all their furniture because it didn't speak to her, Seneseba found Kuwin sitting on a colorful pillow, his legs crossed in front of him as Osa sat beside the woman opposite him.

She had never seen Osa look so healthy. Osa hadn't had to feed again since they left isolation, but her skin had returned to normal, her hair was growing full again and her eyes never wavered anymore. Her voice was steady, and she was the picture of a young, healthy Jiki woman.

A young woman that was the biggest threat to Seneseba because if either of them wanted to be honest, the easiest way to ensure their individual freedom was to hand the other over to the clans. Sometimes, Seneseba had nightmares that Osa would do it. Had done it. Sometimes, she'd wake up sweating, hearing the keys clanging as Osa walked away, truly free, while Seneseba was set to rot once again.

Beyond survival, Osa was owed vengeance and housing the being who'd killed her family was goodwill worth suspecting. Osa hadn't given her reason to think there was any left behind heat in the matter, but Seneseba's conscience couldn't let it go.

She worried in silence, but she never brought it up. If Osa was trying to forgive her, the last thing she needed was a constant reminder. She'd never expected to trust a clans-blood, but there the original witness was, learning to live with two.

Even though neither witness had tried to touch Kuwin since his incident in the isolation units, she was surprised to find the new woman in the house was examining Kuwin's hand, holding it under a totem, touching him like it was nothing.

"And who is this?" Seneseba asked.

The woman was young and beautiful, her eyes lined by hijoy to match her black lips. She had on a jumpsuit made from a nice purple and pink ankara set, with a pink scarf wrapped around her head.

"Elizabeth," Osa said. "We met... in a broken elevator." She looked at Elizabeth. "She and her friends tried to kill me."

"Oh no," Elizabeth said, brows knitted in worry. "We thought you were a spy for the clans." Elizabeth looked at Seneseba. "We thought she was a spy. Hi, I'm Elizabeth. Pleased to meet you."

"Hello."

Smiling and expecting more, Elizabeth said. "What's your name?"

Seneseba had never really thought about it. Seneseba was all she knew when she was in this form. It was easy to be other people when she took their form, but her name had always been Seneseba. But that wasn't a name. It was more like a title. A summons to work. To see and speak. A command.

She needed a new name. One that could speak to her present condition. Her place in the world. No command. No assignment. No destiny. Just a person.

"I'll let you know when I get one."

When she dropped her market bag on the only table in the room, Elizabeth sat back.

"You guys are all weird in this house," Elizabeth commented.

"His arm, Elizabeth," Osa prodded.

"He's fine, as far as I can see." She turned his arm around.

"He said he can't feel anything."

"Sometimes," Kuwin corrected. "Sometimes, I can't feel my arms. Other times, it's fine."

Osa looked as unconvinced as Seneseba felt.

"I'll figure out a way to extract the ointment." Elizabeth narrowed her. "If you'd tell me what it is-"

"Not again, Elizabeth."

"If I know what I'm dealing with-"

"Take it out and we'll tell you."

Sighing and standing, she said, "You're going to make my life hard, aren't you?" She picked up her bag.

"I have your account number," Osa said.

"Don't be afraid to be generous." She held her hands wide apart. "Send as much as you like. Don't let my price hold you back."

Swinging her bag over her shoulder, she waved goodbye as she matched right out of the house.

"Laura was right," Seneseba said, joining them. "He's not in any pain."

"If you'd both just listened to me when I said I was fine, we wouldn't have bothered the nice lady, Elizabeth."

"She's grateful for the money," Osa said with a shrug. "Plus, she gets to meet me and she kind of worships me so, there's that, too."

Kuwin looked at Seneseba, as he'd taken to doing ever since they got out of the isolation units. Somewhere between curiosity and confusion, he stared at her every waking minute, scared that she'd catch him watching, but unable to look away.

"So," he began. "This look is staying?"

"Why? Do you want Vayi back?" Seneseba asked.

"It won't be him, though," Kuwin said, his tongue hiding in his cheek like he regretted what he'd just said.

But there was nothing to regret. Nothing to be ashamed of. He was right. Seneseba had killed Vayi. Just like she'd killed Osa's family.

"It won't be him," she agreed. "I'm sorry."

"Not really my place to take the apology, but okay," he said with a shrug.

"You don't have a name?" Osa asked. "You could have told Elizabeth you were Seneseba. She'd have probably rolled on this floor and cleaned it with her clothes."

"I want a real name."

"Like what?"

She thought about it for a moment, wondering what could be about her present. A name of hopefulness or a name that stated the truth. Maybe when she figured it out, she was going to let them know. But for the moment, she was in no rush to attend to every matter of her life. She could take her time.

One day, she was going to find herself a good name.