Chapter Text
On an average day at the Astral Photo Studio, the usual peace of the photo studio is disturbed.
The day had started so normally, too, with Dan Heng coming down to sleepily greet March when she came early to open up. She graciously made him a pot of coffee (none of Himeko’s, thank goodness) that he poured himself a cup of so that he could wake up and get ready for the day. While he got ready, March prepared to open shop for the day.
His days follow this same, mundane trend. Open up shop with March, take care of any photos that need to be recovered or processed. Consult with clients about their photos, fix a few cameras for customers. If Himeko or Welt drop by the store, he’ll greet them and update them about the store’s welfare.
He considers his days running largely the same to be peaceful. He likes having routine and order. Even when March likes to shake things up with a surprise boba order from the shop down the street, or when Himeko brings Pom-Pom to the store for the day, these little things make up his day-to-day life. It’s comfortable.
When a pale-haired boy shows up with a photo, he thinks it’s just standard fare for the day.
He gets proven wrong when the boy says, “Sorry. I don’t know where I got this photo.”
March, who mans the front counter while Dan Heng restores some photos for a different client, hums politely. “Like, you don’t remember, or…?”
“No,” replies the boy. His casual tone doesn’t change, even when he continues. “I mean, yeah, I don’t remember. But I don’t remember a lot of things, so it’s mostly that I don’t know.”
“Umm… Well, OK then! That’s fine. We don’t really need to know where your customers get their pictures.”
March laughs off the oddity of the boy’s response. From the other room, Dan Heng listens closely. Should he intervene? Setting aside his tools, he gets up from his workstation and strides towards the storefront.
“Well, in any case, what is it that you need us to do with your photo? We have a bunch of offers here, like restoration, scanning, processing… This photo looks brand new, though.”
Dan Heng catches March’s uncertain gaze when he makes his way to the counter. He can practically read the question on her face: is something up with this guy? He merely comes up to stand by her behind the counter. Hopefully his presence is enough to deter this person from doing anything untoward.
To his credit, the boy doesn’t react much when he arrives. He only offers a sheepish shake of his head, his shoulders moving up in a helpless shrug.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I thought you could have some ideas for me, too.”
March doesn’t bother with helpful customer service anymore. She stares blankly at the boy, likely as baffled as Dan Heng feels. Undeterred, the boy delivers the final sentence that seals Dan Heng’s peace.
“I don’t know why I have this photo or how I got it. I have no clue what I’m supposed to do with it. But the name of this shop is written on the back of this photo, so I thought coming here would give me some clues. I don’t know anything else.”
The photo that the boy (Dan Heng learns that his name is Caelus, and that’s all he knows about himself) brings in is rather ordinary. It’s a landscape shot; Dan Heng recognizes the location as the park on Herta University’s campus. On the back of the photo, in elegant, looping cursive, were the words Astral Photo Studio. When he brings this up, Caelus nods in confirmation. Not in any form of recognition, however.
“I woke up there, in one of the buildings. I didn’t know where I was, but the signs said I was somewhere called Herta University. All I had to go off of was that place on the back of the photo,” he explains.
“I don’t remember us developing this picture, though,” March says, frowning. Dan Heng is of the same mind. It’s likely that it was developed somewhere else—it’s not as if their photo store was the only place that prints photos.
“You… didn’t know where you were?” He repeats.
Caelus shakes his head. “Nope. Didn’t know anyone around, either.”
For his part, he doesn’t seem all too bothered by his apparent lack of information or memories. In fact, he takes a lot of things in stride. Dan Heng is quite sure that the average person wouldn’t just be so cavalier about waking up in an unfamiliar place with nothing but a photo to guide him.
He’s also quite sure that this is rather suspicious. After all, this seemed like a plot straight out of a movie. A random person wakes up in a place without their memories? This was real life, not some sort of story. The situation seemed a touch too fantastical to be real.
Still, it’s hard to fully suspect Caelus. He gave nothing away on his face. No matter what leading questions Dan Heng threw at him, he showed no signs of knowing any answers to them. Either he was a fantastic and conditioned actor, or he was being truthful about everything.
Either way, this is entirely out of Dan Heng and March’s pay grade and skill set. They were not equipped to handle someone like Caelus. This is not to say they’re unequipped to handle amnesiacs, because March was a clear indicator that this wasn’t true, but it’s obvious that Caelus is more than just a case of lost memories. So Dan Heng and March do the most sensible thing they can think of: call Himeko and Welt.
Caelus is incredibly polite to Himeko and Welt, greeting them when they arrive after receiving March’s urgent text.
“Hello,” he says, remarkably casual as ever. “My name is Caelus. I think.”
Dan Heng sighs.
Catching Himeko and Welt up to speed is no trouble. With March returning to the front counter, Dan Heng brings them and Caelus to the inner sunroom, where the two of them listen to Caelus’ predicament.
“There’s nothing in particular that stands out about this photo,” Welt says, frowning behind his glasses. He turns to Himeko, handing the photo to her. “I don’t recognize the handwriting, either.”
“Neither do I,” Himeko admits as she turns the picture over. She turns to Caelus.
“Did you manage to talk with anyone at the university? If Herta herself isn’t available, I imagine that Asta, the university’s current dean, is more than likely to be around,” she suggests.
Caelus rubs the back of his neck. “I only talked to a few people, mostly to get directions. I had no idea who I would’ve been able to talk to when I first woke up.”
“That’s understandable. I suppose you really wouldn’t have a choice other than to leave campus and start with your only clue.” Himeko leans back on the sofa that she and Welt sit on. There’s a thoughtful look on her face as she considers Caelus for another moment.
Dan Heng simply stands off to the side of the room, leaning against the wall. He has his arms crossed as he watches Himeko and Welt discuss Caelus’ situation. Caelus himself sits on the single-seat sofa, hands placed on his knees. The way he takes this whole situation in stride is just so baffling to Dan Heng. Would any regular person be this calm in this situation?
“Regardless, I think this is something we have to bring up to both Herta University and the police before anything else,” Welt decides. Himeko nods.
“Er.” Caelus looks genuinely puzzled at this. “You’re turning me in to the police?”
Himeko reels back, surprised. “No, no. It’s possible that, if we request a background check on you, something might come up. Something that might point to who you are.”
“For example, perhaps you could be filed as missing somewhere. If you were, then going to the police first would be important,” Welt suggests.
“I guess that makes sense.” Caelus nods, though his expression is still uncertain.
Himeko stands and Welt follows after her. After a beat, Caelus stands, too, albeit a little awkwardly.
Turning to Dan Heng, Himeko nods. “We’ll take Caelus with us for now. You and March can keep looking over the store. We’ll keep you updated.”
“Alright.” Dan Heng nods. If Caelus was with Himeko and Welt, then he’d be in good hands.
Before they leave (with a farewell to March at the counter), Himeko stops at the entrance. She turns and beckons Dan Heng over. Puzzled, he meets her there, wondering if she needs anything else.
“Keep an open mind,” she murmurs. “This might not be resolved so simply.”
She gives him one last look before leaving. Dan Heng stands at the entrance of the store for a while, considering her words carefully.
Keep an open mind. What did Himeko intend on doing for this person? It’s easy to understand that a situation like Caelus’ might be deeply complicated. Of course, there’s a chance things won’t be neat and simple.
Himeko is an incredibly kind person, Dan Heng knows this firsthand. If there’s a chance she could help someone, she will take it. It’s for this reason that the Astral Photo Studio was more than just a photo studio.
For his sake, Dan Heng hopes that they find a clue about his past and his memories through Herta University or the police. Himeko’s words and the sinking feeling in his gut, however, tell him it won’t be that easy. Just like that, his day-to-day peace that he’s established has been disrupted by a pale-haired boy with no memories.
Later, Himeko returns to the store. It’s after he and March have closed up shop. March had gone home for the day, heading for the apartment that Himeko and Welt offered for her to stay in after a companion of Welt’s had left. Dan Heng was cleaning up around the house when he heard the chime of the door opening, signaling someone’s entrance.
“Dan Heng?” comes Himeko’s voice from the door. “We’re back.”
We? Dan Heng sets the broom aside and heads for the front. Himeko must have turned the storefront’s main lights on, because standing there in the landing under fluorescent light was her and Caelus.
“I’m guessing things didn’t go well at the university or the police?” He says. He gives Caelus a brief nod of acknowledgement. The boy returns it with a nod of his own.
“Unfortunately, no,” Himeko sighs. “Herta wasn’t in, so we had to ask Asta. She didn’t seem to know who Caelus was, though, so he’s not a student. When Welt and I brought Caelus to the police, he didn’t come up as any missing persons in their database.”
“It was worth a shot,” Caelus offers, smiling uneasily. Himeko gives him an apologetic smile in return.
“The police did decide to run a background check on him—they’ll get back to us on that some time soon. They said that they’ll try reaching out to other cities to see if Caelus has gone missing anywhere nearby,” she continues.
It goes unsaid that if nothing comes up from that, then there’s nothing they can do. If Caelus was from out of the area, hell, even out of the country, they couldn’t do much.
Little wonder why Caelus looks more worn than he did earlier that day. Dan Heng can see the way his shoulders have slumped downwards. It’s understandable; the only clue he had didn’t turn up anything. For the first time, he sees uncertainty in Caelus’ eyes.
Dan Heng meets Himeko’s look. His thoughts come to a pause.
“I’d like to try something else,” she says.
Caelus starts a little. “There’s still things to try?”
Himeko turns to him, her signature, gentle smile on her face. He searches Himeko’s face with his conflicted eyes. Whatever he finds seems to make him relax just the slightest bit, because his shoulders lower.
“There’s always things you can try as long as you find it,” she tells him. Her words bear the strength of confidence. Dan Heng knows she truly believes this. Once, she had also told him the same thing.
“Do you still have that photo, Caelus?” She asks him. With a slightly confused look, he nods and pulls out the picture by way of answering. The photo is deposited in her waiting hand, but she barely takes a glance at it.
Himeko turns that same smile to Dan Heng, and he immediately knows what she wants to do.
“Are you sure?” He asks her, frowning.
“I should be asking you that,” she replies, sounding amused. “I won’t force you to help.”
Helping isn’t exactly the problem. Though he didn’t know Caelus, he wasn’t opposed to helping with his situation. If there is something he could do, he doesn’t mind doing it. That’s how he and everyone involved with Astral Photo Studio are.
That doesn’t change the fact that Dan Heng’s way of helping is unconventional. He doesn’t do it often unless Himeko specifically asks.
She’s asking now, though, isn’t she?
“Do you think it could help?” He decides to ask.
“It may be our only shot at another clue.”
There’s no arguing with that. Lips pressing tightly together, he nods solemnly and accepts the photo.
He takes another glance at Caelus, who looks at him curiously. He doesn’t ask anything, though, and Dan Heng isn’t sure if that disconcerts him or not. Was he so willing to trust Dan Heng?
He looks away, deciding to focus on his task. The photo is still the same as it was earlier. It’s a simple photo. If March was to look at it, she’d most certainly say something along the lines of how impeccably shot it was. Though the subject was plain and frankly soulless, the framing and composition of the picture was perfect. It was as if someone was simply told to take a picture with the techniques they knew.
Dan Heng doesn’t help by examining the composition of photos, though. Even on a standard day in the Astral Photo Studio, that’s not his job.
Gripping the photo tightly, he digs deeper. His consciousness permeates the photo, like diving deep into a body of water. Information floods his mind in impressions. A camera is lowered. The breeze rustles the leaves in the trees. A rosy red color fills the irises of the eyes of someone speaking.
He swallows hard at their question, but they move on anyway. They look at the lens of the camera and smile. Dan Heng watches their lips form around a hint. They extend their hand, wordlessly offering it.
And then nothing. They leave. Eventually, so does the person who took the photo. His life continues as normal. Dan Heng is left watching the past of a person he doesn’t know.
He pulls his gaze away from the photo, and it feels like taking a breath of air after being underwater.
“Did you find anything?” Himeko asks after a moment.
He nods, and finds that he can only look at Caelus.
It wasn’t Caelus that took the photo, he’s confident of that much. There’s no doubt that he was being addressed, however, through this photo. Even if nothing was explicitly given away, Dan Heng knows this as fact. Was it the way the person spoke? Was it the disjointed, unnatural conversation between them and someone completely, entirely ordinary?
“Was there something in the picture after all?” Caelus asks cautiously.
What perplexes him is the photographer. When he looks at the photo again, the same thing plays out: the photo is taken, the two of them talk for a while before leaving, and then the photographer carries on with their day. The photographer shows no indication of knowing what that person is talking about.
If not the photographer, who were they talking to?
“Dan Heng?” Himeko looks concerned when he looks at her. Uneasiness crawls under his skin, itchy and uncomfortable.
“Himeko,” he says, “no one knows about my ability, right?”
The question gives her pause. She shakes her head with a frown.
“Of course not. I haven’t told anyone. I promised you I wouldn’t.”
He nods. He trusts her. Himeko would be the last person to tell anyone his secrets.
So why then did it seem like that person was expecting him?
“What do you know about the past?” He asks, turning to Caelus.
“…Nothing? I don’t remember anything, remember?”
“Not your past.” Dan Heng shakes his head. “Specifically, what do you know about seeing the past?”
A strange look crosses Caelus’ features. Emotions flicker through his face as he thinks: confusion, bewilderment, but most importantly, recognition. When he finally opens his mouth to speak, he looks unsure. “I don’t know.”
Dan Heng nods. That’s not a no. There’s something that he knows, even if he doesn’t understand it right now.
“Does anything about the concept of past or present or future mean anything to you?”
“I’m not sure… Maybe?”
“What about fate?”
“That’s a little vague.”
“How about pictures? Do you remember anything about pictures and the past?”
“Pictures…”
Caelus’ face scrunches up in effort to think of anything related to the words Dan Heng is throwing out. He’s not sure if any of these actually mean anything to him. These are the only things he thought might be relevant after seeing them in the photo. Some of it is relevant to him. Some of it is relevant to other people. Perhaps it would also be relevant to Caelus.
“A person said that you should make a decision you won’t regret,” he tries. “In the past and the present, for the future.”
Dan Heng doesn’t agree with that sentiment. Objectively, it’s incorrect. In making a decision, the outcomes must be seriously considered, whether it’s the past or the present. To tell someone to make a decision they won’t regret is too irresponsible. It’s too subjective, too prone to personal feelings that the present can’t afford.
But that sentence means something different for him. And he’s not willing to think about that right now.
So instead, he focuses on the way Caelus’ eyes widen and gold flashes through their dull color. His jaw goes slack. Dan Heng can practically see the gears in his head begin working. Caelus flexes his hands at his sides.
“Kafka?” Caelus asks.
“Who’s Kafka?” Dan Heng demands.
At his tone of voice, Caelus takes a step back. Himeko holds out a hand to stop Dan Heng, and he realizes that he’d nearly jumped at Caelus’ throat. He clears his throat and tries to calm down. It’s no good to scare him like that.
“Did you remember something?” Himeko asks Caelus. He shakes his head, gray strands brushing over his eyes. Whatever flash of gold Dan Heng saw is gone.
“No, but…” He struggles for a moment, as if trying to find the right words. “I don’t know how to explain it. I just know that name. And I know Kafka has said those things to me.”
Dan Heng glances at Himeko with an unvoiced question. She shakes her head in response. It looks like she doesn’t know who this Kafka person is, either. Are they perhaps the person that he saw in the photo?
“I’m a little confused. How did you… Where did you learn those things that you were just saying to me?” Caelus asks. Dan Heng purses his lips, unwilling to answer right away.
“We can talk about that later. We have a clue now, don’t we?” Himeko cuts in. She places a hand on Caelus’ upper arm. He seems to relax at her touch. This is the most emotion that Dan Heng has seen from him all day. Exhaustion from the days’ revelations seems to be settling in. “First thing tomorrow, we’ll go back to the police station to see if your background check turned up anything. Then, we can ask about this Kafka person, alright?”
“OK,” says Caelus, nodding. Then he turns to Dan Heng, a weary smile on his face. Something about it makes Dan Heng’s breath stutter. Is it the gold that he sees all over Caelus now? Is it the sheepish way he regards him, like he’d been troubling Dan Heng this entire time?
“Thanks,” he says, voice warm, “for helping.”
Dan Heng doesn’t answer right away. It feels as if he hadn’t helped very much. He only looked at the past of the photo and threw out the things he saw. It only turned up one usable clue that Himeko and Caelus could investigate.
But there was one more thing. One thing he couldn’t easily tell Caelus. For all he is rational and objective, Dan Heng isn’t immune to being controlled by his own emotions. He’s just as prone to fear and wariness as anyone. The last thing he holds back from the pale-haired boy in front of him dredges up his long-buried fears and regrets.
He clutches the photo just a bit tighter. Something tells him that getting involved is only going to draw him closer to what he used all his strength to run away from.
But Caelus needs help—help that won’t be so easily gained. Though the answer isn’t certain, Dan Heng has something for him. He’s only met Caelus today, and yet something tells him—the same feeling that warns him of getting involved—that letting him go will just be another regret.
So he opens his mouth and lets go of the peaceful life he had crafted around him, just so that gratitude can be justified.
“What do you know about traveling into the past?” He asks.
Himeko startles. Her bright eyes widen minutely, sending him a look of alarm. He ignores her, focusing on Caelus’ confusion. The boy tilts his head.
“Like in stories?”
“No. Actually traveling to the past.”
“I guess the only thing I would know about it is through sci-fi stories,” Caelus answers, shifting his weight on his feet. “Not that I remember any off the top of my head.”
“Do you think you could do it?”
He balks at him. Dan Heng doesn’t react to the surprise thrown his way. He already knows it’s possible, otherwise he wouldn’t be saying anything. The question is whether Caelus is willing to try.
If he is, then Dan Heng can help with that.
“Are you implying I can?” Caelus asks. There’s no sarcasm or disbelief in his voice. He must see something in Dan Heng that makes him think it’s possible. He’s not sure if that’s reassuring or not.
“Do you want to try?”
Caelus doesn’t answer right away.
With the picture still in his left hand, Dan Heng holds out his right. The events of the photo flash through his mind clearly, overlapping with the image of Caelus reaching out intuitively with his own hand. He feels just the slightest touch of his skin on his palm and his fingertips, a bit cold and clammy.
There’s the sound of a camera’s shutter, a flash of gold under pale hair.
And then Caelus is gone.
The sound of the camera shutter is the first thing he hears. When he regains his bearings, he realizes he’s looking at through the viewfinder of a camera that’s in his hands.
But when did he have a camera in his hands? Wasn’t he in the sunroom of the photo studio just now?
He was at Astral Photo Studio, speaking with a woman named Himeko and a boy named Dan Heng. He knew that they were his only shot at finding out who he was. Their store was written on the back of the photo he woke up with, and it was his only clue. They were kind enough to entertain his outlandish situation—everyone there was. It was more than he expected for himself.
But he’s not there anymore. He’s in… a park? The same park in the photo. The camera in his hands tells him that he just took that photo. When he looks through its data, he sees the photo there, plain as day.
A jolt of fear runs through him. Where is he? The Astral Photo Studio—had that just been a dream?
Was he even him anymore?
That single thought, loud and echoing, makes him flinch. In panic, he looks around, trying to get a grasp of himself. Trying to get a grasp of what little he knows of himself—
“Caelus.”
A voice, both familiar and unfamiliar sounds out in his mind. He blinks, looking around. Dan Heng?
“Have you gotten yourself together?”
“Da—”
“Stop. You don’t need to speak out loud. If you try speaking to me in your mind, I can hear you just fine. Look around, Caelus; you’re not alone right now.”
Caelus does as he’s told. Dan Heng is correct—there is a person next to him, looking out into the view that he had just photographed. They seem to be waiting patiently—for Caelus? He’s not sure. They don’t look his way when he gawks at them, and only when Dan Heng telepathically scolds him does he look away.
‘Dan Heng?’ he tentatively thinks towards the voice in his head. An affirmative hum is what he gets in response, so he decides to keep going. ‘Dan Heng, what’s going on? Where am I, who— Who am I?’
“Calm down, Caelus. you’re still you.”
Oh. That’s good. He can’t help the flood of relief that rushes through him. He’s still himself. Thank goodness.
“But,” Dan Heng goes on, “right now, you’re not in your own body. You aren’t in the present, either. Right now, you’re in the past, taking control of the person who took the photo you woke up with. I’m talking to you from the present.”
‘Why is this happening? No, how is this happening?’
Dan Heng’s voice turns strained. “It’s… I can explain later, when you’re not in the past. Right now, you have to focus. Because you’re in the past, you’re liable for what happens.”
‘You mean I can change the past and stuff?’
The response he gets is strongly against that. “No. Absolutely not. Listen to me, Caelus—you must not change the past. It’s absolutely forbidden.”
Caelus almost reels back at how intense Dan Heng sounds. No changing the past. He can do that… Or he would if he even knew what the past entailed. How was he supposed to know what he can and can’t do in the past? Caelus has no idea whose body it is he’s apparently possessing. He hardly knows himself , much less some random person taking a picture of a park. How was Caelus supposed to know his past?
“Don’t worry,” he hears Dan Heng say. “I know how the past of this photo goes. Since I can communicate with you while you’re in the past, I can tell you exactly what you have to do.”
That’s convenient. Caelus nods to himself before remembering that Dan Heng can’t see him. Or—can he?
“…Yes, I can see you.”
That gives him pause. He’s not sure if Dan Heng is going to answer truthfully when he wonders, ‘Is that the ability you were talking about? With Himeko?’
Dan Heng doesn’t answer for a while. It gives him time to listen to the rustle of leaves as a breeze brushes past his face. It only drives the fact home that he is feeling every bit of where he is right now. And if Dan Heng says this is the past, then it can only be true. The breeze that caresses the cheeks that aren’t his is something from a past he never experienced.
“Yes,” Dan Heng finally answers. “This is my ability. I can look into a photo and see the events that take place up to 12 hours after the photo was taken.”
‘That’s all? You’re not the one who sent me to the past?’
“No. I suspect that you did that yourself. Something about my ability and yours allows us to communicate while you’re in the past.”
Caelus doesn’t point out that Dan Heng seems to know more than that. He’s not sure if he’ll elaborate if he asks. Instead, he tries to focus on what’s going on right now.
“Well?”
The sudden voice that isn’t his nor Dan Heng’s surprises him. Slowly, he turns to the person beside him. They’re already looking at him with a smile on their lips. Caelus doesn’t recognize who this person is. Their short hair and nondescript clothing is completely unfamiliar.
‘This isn’t Kafka,’ he thinks. He knows this for a fact. If he could be certain about anything, it would be this.
But he looks at their rosy red eyes, both dull and piercing at the same time. He finds himself shivering, an innate urge to call her name just barely suppressed.
‘But this is Kafka,’ he decides. In the way that he is Caelus, but he is not the person he is in this present moment.
Dan Heng has nothing to say about this. Caelus stares dumbly at this person who is and isn’t Kafka. It feels just the slightest bit wrong to refer to them as her.
“Well what?” He finds himself asking. The voice that comes out is unfamiliar to Caelus’ ears. It’s not his own. The knowledge of that makes his skin crawl.
“Well, how did the picture come out?” They ask.
“The—?” Realization strikes him at once. He holds up his camera (his thoughts falter for a moment when he remembers it is not his camera). “The picture I just took?”
“Yes.” The person in front of him smiles as if he’s being silly. “The picture I asked you to take. How did it come out?”
Caelus feels like he’s been cast into the deep end of a pool all of a sudden. Cold sweat runs down his back. Was it alright to speak to her like this? Should he be running his mouth?
“Caelus,” comes Dan Heng’s voice, “calm down.”
Strangely enough, he does.
“I’ll tell you what to say. Do you trust me?”
He thinks of Dan Heng and what little he knows of him. Caelus met him for the first time today and talked to him for less than an hour. He knows as much about him as he knows about himself; which is to say, he doesn’t know him at all.
But he’s Caelus’ only anchor right now. He’s keeping him from drifting away, from getting lost in the fear of experiencing something he knows very little of. His calm voice is soothing. If he tries to imagine it, he can see eyes the color of jade flashing blue for half a second.
‘I trust you.’ He thinks it should surprise him how much he means it. He isn’t surprised at all.
“The photo’s just as you asked for. Do you want to take a look?” Caelus asks the person next to him. Their smile widens.
“No, you can just send the photo to me later,” they say.
“Is this all you wanted?”
“Basically. I do want to chat a little, though. It’s been a while since we last talked, hasn’t it?”
“That’s an understatement. You called me out here after six months of silence just so I could take a picture and send it to you. Now you’re saying you wanna chat?”
Caelus tries not to show his discomfort. It’s all too clear that this is not his life he’s living. This conversation is not his, but he’s supposed to participate anyway. It feels a bit too much like intervening on something not meant for him.
“Please bear with it a little longer, Caelus.”
“Just entertain me a little,” not-Kafka says. When he looks at them, they wear a gentler expression that should look wrong on a stranger’s face, but instead it just looks familiar.
“Remember: that’s not Kafka. And even if it is her, you wouldn’t want her to find out it’s you.”
‘Why not?’ he asks. Isn’t she the only key to knowing who he is? If she knows it’s him, then there wouldn’t be a point in preserving the past, right?
“You shouldn’t. We don’t know what her plans are, Caelus. And most importantly, the past should go as it did. If we change things, we don’t know what will happen to the present or the future if we change the past.”
“Can you be certain that you know the past?” The person asks.
Caelus jumps. It takes all his will to not gape openly at them. His heart pounds rapidly in his chest and it feels like he just got caught all of a sudden.
“What are you talking about?” He splutters.
“Don’t pretend you don’t know. The last conversation we had wasn’t exactly friendly, you know.”
Caelus counts his breaths carefully. Right. He has a part to play. “I’m not playing dumb. You just started with something weird, so I was caught off guard, alright?”
“But my question still stands.” Red eyes look directly at him. He wonders if he’s imagining the way they swirl. “Can you tell me with full confidence that you know what happened back then?”
His heart is in his ears. He tries to ignore it in favor of focusing on Dan Heng’s voice.
“Of course I know. How can I not? I was there. Why are you acting like this?”
They laugh. “I just wanted to know if you were confident living in the present without knowing the past. There are some people who don’t know their past or their future, but still live in the present anyway. Isn’t that interesting?”
“Why are you being so weird?” Are they still talking to this person he is right now? Or are they talking to him?
“It doesn’t matter. The past or the future—it doesn’t matter. After all, we’re in the present, aren’t we? That’s what we should focus on.”
They look away, admiring the scenery with a hum. The breeze carries their voice away to somewhere Caelus doesn’t know. He looks away, too, feeling strange. Two people are having a conversation while trying to pretend to be people they’re not.
“Do you think fate exists?” They ask.
“You’re talking nonsense again. Why does it matter?”
“Because it’s complicated, isn’t it? If fate exists, then our choices don’t matter. Everything will lead to one thing anyway. But if fate doesn’t exist, then that makes our choices all the more important. You would be in complete control of your life.”
Before he can react, they take the camera out of his hands. It had automatically turned off since he wasn’t using it, but they make no move to turn it back on. They simply carry the camera in their hands, as if weighing it.
“Pictures are a great way to preserve the past, aren’t they?” They ask, and he feels like he’s been strung along to whatever they feel like talking about.
“I take pictures for that reason. You already know this,” he points out. They fix him with a knowing look.
“With the right help,” they say, “you can find yourself in the past. Have you found that help yet?”
‘She knows, doesn’t she?’ he asks Dan Heng. He doesn’t answer.
The person returns his camera to Caelus (not his). He takes it, but they leave their hand extended. Their right one, he idly realizes. Caelus almost reaches for it.
“In the past,” they continue, “you can make choices you won’t regret. That will shape your present, don’t you think?”
“E-Enough,” Caelus shakily says. He’s not sure how much longer he can withstand that red gaze. It narrows in amusement.
“When we next meet, I look forward to your answer. Of whether fate exists or not. Maybe another six months from now?”
They lower their hand and turn around. As they leave, they wave a hand backwards to Caelus, bidding him farewell. It feels wrong to let them go like this. To leave without saying anything else. This isn’t right. This isn’t a proper farewell for the people they’re supposed to be.
“Let her go, Caelus,” Dan Heng’s voice says. “You’ve done enough.”
It doesn’t feel right. He feels as if he’s been carved out, as if he’s missing a piece that they just took from him. He wants to call out her name, but she’s already gone. He’s left in that park all alone.
Well. Not completely alone.
“What now?” Caelus asks aloud, forgetting he can simply speak to Dan Heng through his mind.
“…Nothing. You carry out the rest of the photo’s past. After meeting with his friend, the person you’re currently possessing went home.”
“That’s it? Wait, how long am I going to be like this?”
“For me, I can only see 12 hours after a photo was taken. I don’t see why it wouldn’t be the same with you.”
“I have to stay here for 12 hours? I have to act like this guy for 12 hours ?”
“The alternative is thinking you’re stuck there for longer. I might not be able to talk to you after 12 hours.”
He nearly drops the camera. “Dan Heng!”
“Keep it down. You’re still in public, remember?”
‘How am I supposed to stay here for 12 hours?’ he thinks as emphatically as possible. He thinks he hears Dan Heng snort.
“You have me, remember? I can tell you exactly what to do.” There’s a pause. Caelus almost looks up, as if he’d be able to see Dan Heng there. When Dan Heng says, “Do you still trust me?” Caelus smiles to himself.
“Yeah,” he says, settling into the easy way the words come to him. “I do.”
Dan Heng doesn’t answer right away. That’s fine. Caelus stands there for a little longer. His camera (the camera that isn’t his but, for the meantime, is his) is a grounding weight in his hands. When he turns it on, he sees the picture that got him here, both literally and figuratively.
“I don’t have to do everything exactly the way it went, do I?” Caelus asks.
“Changing the past is not an option. So yes, you do.”
“…So if this guy goes to the bathroom at a specific time?”
“You know what you have to do.”
“Dan Heng!”
“Don’t forget, Caelus, you’re not yourself right now. Try not to make anyone think you’re possessed.”
Caelus returns from the past without any complications. With another sound of a camera’s shutter, he’s back in the Astral Photo Studio’s sunroom—as himself, he seems to note with relief. Dan Heng, who guided him through the entire 12 hours of the photo, even through the night, comes down the stairs and finds him standing where he had left the photo.
The photo itself doesn’t reveal anything other than Caelus’ powers to travel into them. There’s no clue, other than the fact that someone named Kafka had likely orchestrated his sudden appearance. Caelus seems positive of this. What that means for the Astral Photo Studio, Dan Heng doesn’t know. It feels like he should be more suspicious of both Caelus and Kafka.
Instead, he looks at Caelus, who seems brighter now that part of himself is less foggy, and he thinks that it’s fine if things go on like this.
Thanks to Himeko’s generosity, Caelus gets to stay; mostly because he doesn’t have any actual place to live, and partly because none of their previous attempts to find out who he is didn’t turn anything up about him. He’s still the same amnesiac with a mysterious past—he just has time traveling photo powers now.
So he starts working at the Astral Photo Studio. March is happy to have him there, welcoming him with a snap of a photo from her personal camera. He grins when he sees the photo. From what Dan Heng can see, it was a candid shot that caught him unaware.
“Can I have a camera of my own?” He asks.
“We don’t really give any cameras out,” she replies, finger poking at her own cheek. “You’d probably have to get your own.”
“How long would it take to earn enough from working here to buy one?”
“…We don’t exactly get a lot of customers here, so it might take a while.”
“Do you know anything about photos?” Dan Heng asks, entering the room of the storefront. Caelus smiles at him, dopey and relaxed as ever, and shrugs.
“Probably not? Maybe if you put a camera in my hands, I’ll figure it out and it’ll be like some piece of me I’ll find ‘cause of muscle memory. Worth a shot, right?”
“Hey, yeah, I totally get you!” March agrees, nodding. “That’s how it was for me! As soon as Himeko gave me a camera— bam! I was a natural!”
“I highly doubt that Caelus will have the same exact experience as you did,” Dan Heng points out blandly.
March’s answer to that is to shrug and drop her camera in Caelus’ hands. She pulls Dan Heng behind the counter next to her and gestures to Caelus with a single hand. “Go on. Take a picture of us! There’s only one way to judge your photography skills, and it’s with hands-on experience!”
With an amused smile, Caelus simply lifts the camera. March tugs Dan Heng closer and nudges his side with her elbow—smile! He sighs and stands a little straighter. He looks directly into the camera, where Caelus would most certainly be looking through the viewfinder. He imagines meeting golden eyes through the lens, brimming with life and optimism.
Dan Heng wonders if Caelus sees his eyes flashing blue in return.
“Everyone smile! One, two… three!”
There’s a flash, accompanied with the sound of the camera’s shutter. For a moment, Dan Heng expects Caelus to disappear. Instead, Caelus’ face reappears from behind the camera, his eyes still dark. His fingers play with the camera’s settings to look at the photo he just took, an anticipation written in the curves of his face.
“How’d it turn out?” March asks, all but pushing Dan Heng out of the way to get to Caelus.
“You tell me,” he replies, handing her the camera.
She accepts it in her hands, already focused on its small screen. Dan Heng knows that, of all people, March is best suited to judge how a photo looks. Though she doesn’t remember much, she takes to photography like a fish to water. There’s probably no one more suited to work at a photo studio than March. She was well-suited as a partner for someone like Dan Heng, whose knowledge only extended to the technical side of cameras and photography.
“Whoa,” says March, eyes going wide.
“A good ‘whoa’ or a bad one?” Caelus asks.
A little curious himself, Dan Heng steps out from behind the counter. He joins March’s side, peeking over her shoulder to look at the photo Caelus took.
“This… I have no complaints about this!” March declares. “This is a pretty good photo, Caelus! I mean, seriously, the composition is fine. Lighting’s good, too! Did you fiddle with the settings?”
“Hm? Maybe just a little. I didn’t really know what all it was, so I didn’t do much except zoom in or try to get it to focus.”
Dan Heng takes the camera. In the picture that Caelus took, he and March stand side by side. Even to Dan Heng’s untrained eye, he can tell it’s a good photo. The lighting flatters their features, and the composition has them framed rather well.
As he looks at the photo, he wonders if this is how Caelus sees them. Does he capture their past, their present, or their future?
“It’s not bad at all, Caelus! At the very least, you’re not hopeless like Dan Heng!”
“I’m not hopeless,” he interjects sourly. He knows a little about photography, at least. He knows the basics as well as any beginner at photography, and while no picture he takes will be particularly spectacular, at least he won’t fall to simple mistakes like covering the lens with his finger or something like that. Besides, there was more to photography than just taking pictures.
“We all have our strengths and weaknesses.” March dismissively waves him off and looks back at Caelus’ photo with a smile. “We should print this one out! Ooh, or get Himeko in here to take a picture of us! We’re all coworkers from now on after all!”
The light and easy sound of Caelus’ laughter fills the photo studio. In the light coming through the windows, he finds gold in the lines of his existence. There’s gold in the curve of his smile, the crescent shape of his delighted eyes. Dan Heng thinks he can take a photo now and capture all that gold to show him just what he looks like.
Dark eyes meet his, an easygoing warmth filling them. Dan Heng allows himself a small smile for his new coworker. Mostly as courtesy. Partly because he realizes that this change to his mundane life is not so bad. He just has to get used to it.
He tells himself he won’t get used to this novel feeling. Things will return to mundanity. Caelus will be another part of the Astral Photo Studio, another part of his life. One he won’t get attached to, as all things he’s kept his distance from. Time traveling photo powers aside, things feel normal. His life will become quiet again. He won’t have to run again.
As March brings the camera up in front of them, turned so that the lens can capture all three of them, he wonders if he imagined the blue that caressed his features in Caelus’ photo. Those thoughts leave him as he throws up a peace sign for the picture.
When he looks at the picture later, he hears Caelus’ laughter clearly in his ears after they found out he gave Dan Heng and March bunny ears behind their heads.