“Do you want me to call you clever?”
“Why, do I deserve it?”
“You make me into four people to avoid the triplets’ ire. And then you fail to name one of them.”
“I was thinking Bishwas.”
“Too generic. Try again.”
“I think Usha is too generic.”
“Is it, Aishwarya, is it?”
“I’m Biralee.”
Mouri’s eyes weren’t grey. The other three pairs were. They, honestly, didn’t look much like each other otherwise – except being about the same height and build.
“But that’s not what you meant – uh, please come in.”
Biralee’s apartment was not built for entertaining people. In fact, it didn’t have the room for seating for 5 – which Biralee had artfully avoided by not having any furniture – just a television, a guitar stand, and a shelf for books and dvds. She didn’t even have a pillow for herself to sit on – just an extra doormat.
The grey-eyed ones didn’t have any problem with this – Mouri gave a becoming wave to Usha, who sighted and put out her legs, which Mouri proceeded to sit on.
Biralee didn’t stall. She put in her emergency Lasagna the librarians had insisted she have in the oven. Her stomach was already growling – it just had to wait a bit longer.
“So I guess… I go first,” Biralee started with becoming more aware of humans while being cared for by cats, her eventual move towards the library, eventually getting a job and this apartment.
“But what about before then?”
“Before then… I don’t know. Maybe I had to start remembering words before I could remember other things?”
“That’s not too far from some theories I’ve heard- new language opening up new forms of memory,” Mouri was the university student, after all, “So – I think we need to try from the other direction. What do you know about this one?” She put an arm around Usha’s shoulders.
“Oh. I know I was supposed to be Usha. I… only remembered your name seeing you at the door. And her -” She pointed at Sophi, “I know she’s Sophi, but I remember there being somthing fake? Like, I saw you at the market. And I knew you there. Sort of. And Mouri – honestly, I think you were the one that made me want to go into the library in the first place. And.”
She turned to the third person. “I have absolutely no idea. I’m sorry if I’m supposed to.”
“Well, that make the timeline clearer, doesn’t it?” She looked a little like the person someone would make fan art of and get Sophi – a little shorter, heavier-set, lighter hair but not as light as Sophi’s, “Vedika. I’ve been going by Vedika. I’ve taking over the streaming lately, if that makes any sense.”
Biralee looked at Sophi questioningly.
“Sure. might as well be me. Do you remember Dr. Carter? She was doing tests for another Jane Dough paper… and if you’re not caught up… It’s a lot more than I thought possible at the time. I… we’re still haven’t figured out what everything means at this point. Like I think as one point I fit into a 3ml syringe somehow? Still don’t know what to do with that information… haven’t exactly tried it again.
“Somewhere near the end of those tests I tried to split like a cell.”
“And we’ve agreed ‘I’ is the right terminology up to that point.”
“But there were two Usha. And they remembered pretty much the same stuff, and they could merge together again and remember what both of them did… So where that was all voluntary, your start must have been…”
“Involuntary.” Biralee offered.
“Involuntary, which…” Sophi probed.
“I have no idea how I would have fell in with cats then.”
“But the original Usha walked away from the test, but then thought hey, wouldn’t it be crazy to do a stream with two Sophies in it, and that was me. And I actually died my hair rather than using the wig,”
“That’s your real hair now??”
“The bleaching is awful, it was a bad idea, but I’m sticking with it. But eventually the second Sophie became it’s own thing, so Vedika came along. And after that I started to really question if I really wanted to be ‘the streamer’ forever -“
“The crowd loved 2.0, you understand,” Vedika chimed in, “But the question seemed different when we both were involved. It’s – the stream – has evolved a bit since.”
“I’m sort of doing the Stretch Sunday thing full time at the gym on 4th. Regular classes. “
“And Usha is still a secretary?”
“Part time.”
“And Mouri is still…”
“Worthless postgrad, yes. It’s not like helping with the stream has sped my research up.”
“Hmm. Did-” the buzzer went off. “It’s ‘lasagna’ – is anybody not starving?”
While they pondered how to eat the dish – Biralee had forks, even if they weren’t used much – everyone had little stories to catch each other up on.
Ami had be going to one of Sophi’s yoga classes. One that Mouri had dropped in on – that had been a bit of a recognition debacle.
Vedika had been caught by a fan during an unapproved livestream at the University. It had turned into a game of hide-and-seek, with Vedika severely limited because people still believed she was only a contortionist – while the fan tried to guess her position from the surrounding of the video. She insisted it’ wasn’t staged – otherwise she’d be had done it with something more than her phone camera.
Usha still had people trying to occasionally prove or disprove their theories at work – sometimes without asking. Sometimes this lead to cartoonish antics, Usha narrowly avoiding a ‘trap’, sometimes other people walked into situations meant for her. It was as much a reason for going part time as any other.
“Biralee,” Mouri started once she had finished her lasagna, “What would you think if I made out with everyone here but you?”
The laughter stopped immediately, grey eves all turned to the new ‘sister’.
“That. That would be your choice and theirs, wouldn’t it? I don’t know why you’d do it here, but…”
“Let me rephrase. I was Usha’s girlfriend before all this splitting started. As far as I’m concerned, I am Usha’s girlfriend until told otherwise. Which by that criteria, includes you. Do you have any interest in making out?”
Vedika and Sophi were finding interest in second helpings. Usha continued at full attention.
Biralee hesitated. “I…” She hadn’t been prepared for any of this, “I remember. Loving you. But those are Usha’s memories. I’m Biralee and Biralee hasn’t had a chance to create memories like that. Memories of my own. And if that eventually leads to somthing…”
Usha gave a chuckle. “Don’t act like you’re taking somthing from me. I’m not the ‘original’ Usha. I’m just borrowing a face – there is no original. If you two want to make memories, make them.”
“You… aren’t?”
“It’s not like we could just go to having no Usha. The rent has to be in sombody’s name.” Sophi pointed out, “If anything, I started to let Usha be Usha without regrets.”
“We’re all just trying to figure this out,” Vedika added, “If you think you can deal with the consequences – why not?”
Biralee pondered another moment. “Then if you’re willing, Mouri, I’d like to try. I’d like to make those memories with you.”
The three listened for noise from the bedroom… but not too hard. Picked through the DVD collection – not quite any of their tastes, but it wasn’t like the collection had a clear theme. Examined the guitar – nobody really had much experience with one, but it had always stuck them as a ‘maybe some day’ thing.
Sophi whined a bit. “You know, lasagna is a pretty poor reward for hours of stakeout.”
“Thank you, Sophi” the remaining two said in chorus.
“I wanna massage. I feel more like stone than putty right now.”
Vedika and Usha stared at each other in silent negotiation. “Yeah okay,” Usha finally spoke up.
Sophi flopped onto the concrete floor – “wow this is clean” – and Usha immediately dug into her – knowing just where her tensions normally set in after a day in the office, dragging her sister directly to relaxation without a single hesitation. Sophi started with groans, but quickly turned to low murmurs of gratitude as Usha manipulated her.
“I pronounce you putty and ground.”
“Without checking?”
Vedika stepped over and sunk a finger into Sophi back – and, calf, and arm, “Seems putty enough to me,” She looked up to Usha, “Could I just hire you as a personal masseuse?”
Biralee and Mouri reappeared outside the bedroom door – straightening hair and clothes… Mouri shaking her head like she couldn’t believe the deal she’d gotten.
They didn’t make immediate plans to come back – Biralee needed space to process things. But – there was an open invitation – and an exchanging of current email addresses.
And then… quiet again in the apartment. Biralee cleaned a little – then curled up in a sunny spot on the floor. To remember. To think.
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