CHAPTER 184: ECHOES OF YESTERDAY, WHISPERS OF TOMORROW

The weeks after Jessica’s departure felt different. Kofi couldn’t pinpoint exactly how, but the apartment had changed. The space felt larger, quieter, like they’d been holding their breath for months and could finally exhale.

"We need groceries," Nina announced from the kitchen, staring into their nearly empty refrigerator. "And by groceries, I mean actual food, not just the three energy drinks and leftover pizza you call sustenance."

Kofi looked up from his textbook. "I have a perfectly balanced diet."

"Coffee and instant noodles don’t count as balanced."

"They do if you add vegetables to the noodles."

Nina shut the refrigerator door with more force than necessary. "Get your coat. We’re going shopping before you die of malnutrition on my watch."

The grocery store was busy for a Tuesday afternoon. Nina pushed the cart while Kofi trailed behind, occasionally grabbing items that caught his attention.

"We need a system," Nina said, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper. "I made a list."

"You made a list for grocery shopping?"

"Organization prevents chaos. Also prevents us from coming home with six bags of chips and no actual meals."

They made it through produce without incident. Dairy was fine. The problems started in the cereal aisle.

"We are not buying four different types of cereal," Nina said firmly.

"But they’re all different flavors."

"They’re all sugar with different colored coating."

"Exactly. Variety."

A woman’s voice interrupted their debate. "Kofi? Is that really you?"

They turned to see a middle-aged woman with graying hair and a warm smile. She looked familiar, but Kofi couldn’t place her.

"I’m sorry, do we know each other?" he asked.

"Mrs. Patterson," she said. "I was Thea’s guidance counselor at Northgate. I heard about everything that happened with the magazine and the awards. How is she doing?"

The memory clicked into place. Mrs. Patterson had been one of the few adults at their old high school who actually cared about students.

"She’s doing great," Kofi said. "She’s at the art school in the city now. Full scholarship."

"That’s wonderful. And you’re at the university?"

"History major."

Mrs. Patterson’s smile widened. "That suits you. You always struck me as someone who thought about the bigger picture." She turned to Nina. "And you must be the famous Nina I heard so much about."

"Famous might be overstating it," Nina said, but she looked pleased.

"Not at all. The way students talked about your magazine, you changed that school. Made it a better place."

They chatted for a few more minutes before Mrs. Patterson excused herself. As she walked away, she called back, "Tell Thea I said hello. I’m proud of all of you."

Nina was quiet as they finished shopping. In the car, she finally spoke.

"Do you ever think about going back?"

"To high school? Never."

"Not to stay. Just to visit. See how things are now."

Kofi considered this. "Would you want to?"

"Maybe. It might be nice to see if anything we did actually lasted."

That evening, Kofi called Thea. She was in her dorm room, preparing for a portfolio review.

"Mrs. Patterson says hello," he told her.

"Really? How is she?"

"Same as always. She seemed proud of how you turned out."

Thea was quiet for a moment. "I’ve been thinking about visiting Northgate. There’s this program where art students can teach workshops to high schoolers. I thought maybe I could do something with the students there."

"That sounds great."

"Would you and Nina want to come? Not to teach, just to see the old place?"

Kofi found himself saying yes before he’d really thought about it.

The following Saturday, they drove back to their old hometown. The school looked smaller than Kofi remembered, though nothing had really changed. Same brick buildings, same parking lot, same front entrance where he’d first met Nina’s chaos.

"This is weird," Nina said as they walked through the halls. "Everything’s exactly the same, but it feels like looking at someone else’s life."

They found the art room, where Thea was setting up for her workshop. Ms. Sharma was there, her hair a bit grayer but her energy unchanged.

"The revolutionaries return," she said, embracing each of them. "How does it feel to be back in the trenches?"

"Nostalgic," Nina admitted. "In a good way."

The workshop was scheduled to start in an hour. Students began trickling in, most looking curious but cautious. Kofi recognized the type - kids who felt out of place, who found refuge in creativity.

Thea transformed when she began teaching. Her natural shyness disappeared as she demonstrated techniques, answered questions, encouraged the students to experiment. She’d grown into herself completely.

"She’s incredible," one student whispered to her friend. "I heard she won some big award."

"My sister said she used to go here. She was like, famous for her drawings."

Kofi and Nina exchanged glances. Their quiet, artistic sister had become a legend.

After the workshop, they walked around campus. The library looked the same. Their old lunch spot under the oak tree was occupied by a new group of students.

"Look," Nina said, pointing to a display case near the main office.

Inside was a collection of ’The Aviary’ issues, with a small plaque reading "Student Publications - Winners of Regional Arts Competition." Below that was a photo of their group from the awards ceremony.

"We look so young," Kofi said.

"We were young. We’re still young."

They stood there for a moment, looking at their past selves. Then Nina’s phone buzzed.

"Jake wants to know if we’re free for dinner tonight. He and Ruby are trying this new restaurant."

"Tell him yes. But somewhere that actually has vegetables."

"Your growth as a human being continues to amaze me."

They found Jake and Ruby at a small Italian place near the university. Jake was explaining something enthusiastically while Ruby listened with patient amusement.

"The thing about pasta shapes," Jake was saying as they sat down, "is that each one is designed for specific sauce retention properties. You can’t just randomly substitute one for another."

"This is what I live with," Ruby said, but she was smiling.

They ordered food and caught up on the week’s events. Jake was working on his senior thesis about medieval trade routes. Ruby was applying for graduate programs in library science. Normal, everyday concerns that felt refreshing after their recent upheaval.

"How was the high school visit?" Ruby asked.

"Strange but good," Nina said. "Like visiting a museum of our former selves."

"Thea was amazing," Kofi added. "She’s really found her calling."

"Speaking of callings," Jake said, "have you guys thought about what comes after graduation?"

It was a question that had been lurking in the back of Kofi’s mind. Senior year was approaching fast, and with it, decisions about the future.

"I’ve been looking at graduate programs," he said. "Maybe history, maybe education. Haven’t decided."

"I’m leaning toward journalism," Nina said. "Actual journalism this time, not just college papers."

"Where though?" Ruby asked. "Graduate programs are all over the country."

The question hung in the air. They’d been together for so long that the possibility of separation hadn’t really registered. But real life had a way of pulling people in different directions.

"We’ll figure it out," Nina said, but Kofi noticed she avoided looking at him when she said it.

Later, walking back to their apartment, they were both quiet. The evening had been perfect, but that one conversation had introduced a note of uncertainty.

"Ruby’s right, you know," Nina said finally. "We should probably start making actual plans."

"I know. It’s just... after everything we’ve been through, the idea of not being in the same place feels wrong."

"We don’t have to decide everything tonight."

But they both knew that decisions, whether made actively or passively, had a way of making themselves.

Back at the apartment, they settled into their usual evening routine. Nina worked on an article for the campus paper while Kofi read for his American History seminar. It was comfortable, domestic, normal.

Around eleven, Kofi’s phone rang. Ren’s name appeared on the screen.

"Kofi." Ren’s voice was its usual monotone, but there was something underneath it.

"What’s up?"

"I need to ask you something. In person. Can you meet me at the dojo?"

"Now?"

"Yes."

Kofi looked at Nina, who was listening to the conversation with raised eyebrows.

"Is everything okay?"

"I’ll explain when you get here."

The line went dead. Kofi stared at his phone.

"That didn’t sound ominous at all," Nina said.

"I should go see what he wants."

"I’m coming with you."

"Nina, you don’t have to-"

"We’ve established that when mysterious phone calls happen, we face them together. That’s the rule."

Twenty minutes later, they pulled up to the familiar building housing the dojo. The lights were on, which was unusual for this time of night. They found Ren in the main practice space, sitting in meditation posture.

"Thank you for coming," he said without opening his eyes.

They waited. Ren finished his meditation and stood, turning to face them.

"I’m leaving," he said.

The words hung in the air like a physical presence.

"Leaving?" Kofi asked. "The university?"

"The country. I’ve been accepted into a traditional kendo program in Japan. A very prestigious school. It’s a rare opportunity."

"That’s... that’s great," Nina said. "Congratulations."

"The program starts in six weeks."