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Wuxiaworld > Romance > Playing Checkers in the Rain > V.II - Onward to the Kings Row! - Chapter 16

Playing Checkers in the Rain V.II - Onward to the Kings Row! - Chapter 16

Author:  e_o.novels Genre:  Romance UpdateTime:  2021-01-14 04:11:18

When ** showed up at her friend's house and saw the door wide open, whilst the aforementioned friend was absent, her heart leapt up, like a chicken startled from its nest.

A/N: yes, ** has mom-friend/hen-person vibes. Now let’s move along

The phone was lying on the table, the bed was left unmade, the blanket slipped down onto the floor, and the papers were scattered by the wind that roamed the place.

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She worried because it was very much unlike Gen, who liked keeping her place closed off, away from any sort of intruders or unwelcome-guests.

Confused whether to go out into the streets to search for the young woman or to sit put in the house, ** hesitated. Who knows, maybe Gen ventured off on some business?

But who would leave their place open like this?

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At first, ** went around the rooms, whilst, of course, holding her poster tube in the hands, and wielding it like some sort of a gigantic sword. Or maybe, an “alarmed cavewoman clutching her club” would be a better description of what ** looked like. After all, she didn’t know whether there was someone else in the house, and the poster tube, although bulky, could still serve as some weapon.

She quickly checked the rooms and seeing no one, she let out a sigh.

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Luckily, the house was empty.

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But that didn’t explain where Gen was.

And since ** could not reach her on the phone, or contact her in some way, she decided to lock the house, call her other buddy for a back-up, and then go out to look for her whimsical friend.

.

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By the time ** found the key and closed the door, the clouds had already gathered, and it started raining.

‘Oh bother.’ She thought.

If anything is actually wrong with Gen, and she’s in trouble, won’t the rainfall get rid of any footprints or leads, and worsen the search?

**, although not at all a law major (in fact, her major was very far from that - she had studied arts and design), was very enthusiastic about criminal investigations. Perhaps her interests got shaped by her circle of friends, for many of her close mates were either in law. Or in journalism, like Gen.

So, ** naturally started contemplating whether her friend got kidnapped and murdered.

.

‘What a ridiculous idea.’ ** thought. Of course, Gen was alright. She must be. That person, who’s like a tree, rooted in her beliefs firmly, often said that before dying she must uncover a big mystery. How can anything happen to her before that?

But ** still could not comprehend the sudden vanishing of her friend.

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The rainstorm got stronger. By this point, she had already circled the house twice and was now scrutinizing the streets. But no matter whom she asked, no one seemed to have seen Gen.

** hopelessly stood at the corner of the road, trying to shout over the thunder.

.

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“Gen!”

.

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The passers-by gave her weird looks.

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She noticed a yellow umbrella.

At this moment, she felt jealous of the person holding it, and secretly wished she also had one.

Her jacket offered little protection from today’s weather, and after getting wet, it was weighing her down. She considered taking it off, and shielding her head from the strong rainfall - at least then the raindrops wouldn’t hit her in the eyes.

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Then, ** noticed that the figure holding the umbrella looked familiar.

“Gen!” She exclaimed, in a mix of surprise, happiness, and also, annoyance.

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Ah, here she was.

‘Did she think to take a walk, and then forgot to close the door?’

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** started running towards her friend.

And as she got closer, and got under the umbrella, she saw that Gen looked even worse than herself - clothes that looked murky after they soaked up the rainfall, and, oh my, where were her shoes?!

“Gen, where were you?”

** took off her jacket, and threw it over her friend - even that wet coat was better than being in a plain T-shirt for sleeping.

“What’s going on? What happened?” She inquired but got no reply.

Instead, Gen simply clasped her arm. The grasp was a bit too strong and made her wince.

“What’s wrong?” Asked **, but Gen was still silent.

“You love to make others worry. Why’d you up and run off like that? And why are you wearing these clothes?” ** kept talking as she led Gen to the house. She felt immense relief after she found Gen, but now there was another matter to deal with.

“What were you thinking? Why aren’t you talking? And where are your shoes, Gen? Why are you barefoot?”

They neared the house, and ** handed the umbrella back to free her hands and unlock the door.

“What is up with you? Let go, else I can’t take out the keys.”

But Gen was still holding onto her forearm, her stare as blank as it was when ** first saw her.

“Let go, Gen, let go!”

She tugged on her arm.

And then, Gen suddenly freed her.

** stumbled, and her back hit the door.

\"Ouch! Why'd you do that?\" She hissed, as the doorknob stabbed her spine. She frowned, although she knew getting mad wouldn't help.

** was ready to turn around, but at the last moment, Gen's lips parted:

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“What is the point of such a dream?”

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She finally heard Gen speak.

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“What?” ** asked, and rubbed her back. “Did you have a nightmare? Is that it?”

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Her heart softened, although she was still vexed that all this was for a dream.

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‘Well, maybe it was a really scary one.’ She thought and took out the keys.

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**’s Mom also would have nightmares, about ** or Dad getting into an accident and dying. When that happened, she’d also have a blank expression, or, sometimes, would otherwise scream. When someone came up, she’d grab them and refuse to let go, until they either cooed her back to sleep, or until the morning came.

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** unlocked the door and led Gen into the house.

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She looked at her friend, who was soaked, and still seemed “not all there.”

“Take that towel, and dry yourself.” She hurried Gen, but the latter one didn’t move, so ** took the towel off the door herself.

“I can’t believe you left your place just like that. What were you thinking? What if someone went in?”

Really, one nightmare could turn a person’s mind upside down. Just yesterday Gen was normal.

.

Water droplets were falling from Gen’s clothes and onto the spreadsheets on the floor, smudging the handwritten notes.

“Gen! Looks what’s happening!” ** panicked seeing the letters turn into blobs of ink.

“This is your work. Don’t just stand there.”

She pushed Gen to the side and started gathering the papers.

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“You’re alive.” Finally, she spoke.

“Yes, yes, I’m alive. Where else would I be?” ** chattered, continuously bending, again and again, to pick up the papers. “I am alive and well. That was a scary dream. All is well.”

.

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“You’re alive,” Gen repeated. “And I’m alive.“

.

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** was a bit weirded out by seeing how her friend was acting, but ey, bad dreams happen. So she rushed Gen into the shower and then spent the next half an hour cleaning. She also called her friend, the one whom she asked to help look for Gen, and then told him to go back.

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“So, all’s good on your side?”

“Yep. Well. Kind of.” ** said into the phone, and leaned on the mop, a bit like a traveler leans on their walking staff as they stand on top of a hill and overlook the landscapes.

“She probably had a bad dream,” ** added.

“Ok. So, you’re okay alone?”

“Yep, we’re good. Sorry for the trouble. I’ll stay over tonight, to see how she’s fairing. I feel bad for leaving her alone like this.”

“That’s fine. I’ll pick you up tomorrow.”

“Nah, don’t bother. I don’t have work tomorrow, so I’ll go home.”

** looked over the room. Well, now it was somewhat livable again. At the very least, no one will slip and fall.

“…Fine. I’ll see you at the weekend then.”

“Yep. See you.”

She hung up and listened in. There was no sound of water running from the bathroom, so Gen should have finished taking the shower by now.

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** went into the kitchen, to see if there was anything to cook.

When Gen entered, she was standing at the counter, reading instructions on a cereal box.

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“Is that today?” Gen’s voice was void of emotions.

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** turned and saw that Gen was staring at a calendar hanging on the wall, near the microwave.

“Oh, wrong date,” ** said, turning her gaze to the calendar. She stretched her hand, and tore off the page, revealing the true date. She crumbled the old paper and threw it out. Then turned to Gen.

.

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“Today is Feb.29th, you silly goose.”

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A/N: review the work, ppl. I am here, reading everything

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