The Table Left Alone
Two phones lay side by side on the morning table.
The same photograph filled both small screens.
It was the picture they had taken on the bench the day before. The Saintess leaned lightly against the Hero’s shoulder, smiling, and he smiled easily beside her.
Ria switched off the lock screen and drew the textbook toward herself.
On the white island table sat the settlement education textbook, a notebook, a pencil, and a small mug. She sat in the chair wearing a light beige sleeveless dress. Her hair, brushed that morning, fell quietly over her shoulders and down her back.
Across from her, the Hero was packing his bag.
He folded his shirt sleeves once, slipped a few books inside, and checked the sneakers waiting near the front door.
While he prepared for the day outside, Ria rolled the tip of the pencil between her fingers.
The Hero was going to school.
A day would come when he would not be in this house.
The pencil made the faintest sound against the notebook.
He turned back toward the table.
“I’ve only got morning classes today.”
“Morning classes.”
She turned the words over once in her mouth.
“Yeah. It’ll wrap up a little after lunch. I’ll message you when I’m done.”
He pointed at her phone.
“If you get stuck on anything, just take a picture and send it. If it’s hard to explain in writing, just snap it and send it over.”
Ria lightly touched the morning light resting on the sky-blue case with her fingertip.
“A picture.”
“Mm. If you send me how far you’ve gotten, I can look at it.”
She opened the first page of the notebook. It was still blank, a fresh page with nothing written yet.
“Then I’ll try solving them first and send them to you.”
The Hero parted his lips for a moment, then smiled.
“Okay.”
He pointed once toward the refrigerator.
“For lunch, just reheat things the way we looked at yesterday. Rice is here, side dishes are in the upper compartment.”
Ria nodded.
“Put the rice in the microwave, and if it’s not enough, run it a little longer.”
“That’s right.”
“Use a dish towel for hot bowls.”
His eyes widened a little.
“You remembered everything.”
She smiled softly.
“You explained it yesterday.”
“I did.”
He slung the bag strap over his shoulder.
Ria rose from her chair.
“I’ll walk you to the door.”
“Okay.”
They walked side by side to the entryway. Her indoor slippers made light sounds against the floor. While the Hero put on his shoes at the door, the folded bag strap caught her eye.
She reached out and smoothed it flat.
He dipped his head.
“Thanks.”
“It was folded.”
“Yeah.”
She started to pull her hand back, hesitated a moment, then lightly straightened the edge of his shirt sleeve with her fingertips as well.
When the gesture ended, a brief silence settled between them.
The Hero paused with his hand on the doorknob.
Ria smiled first.
The corners of her mouth rose a little awkwardly, but they did not fall again right away.
“Have a good day, Hero.”
“I’ll be back, Ria.”
He leaned a little toward her. She stepped closer naturally. It was a short embrace. The bag strap brushed her arm lightly, and the scent of morning laundry detergent rose from his shirt.
The door opened.
Bright hallway light spilled into the entryway.
The Hero stepped out.
The door closed.
The door lock made a small clicking sound as it engaged.
Ria stood in front of the closed door for a moment.
The house fell quiet at once.
The bag zipper, the shoe sounds, the Hero’s low voice—everything that had been there just a moment before cut off all at once.
Standing at the entryway, she clenched and unclenched her fingertips once.
Then she turned.
Back at the table, Ria sat down.
The chair opposite had been pushed in under the table.
She drew the notebook toward herself.
She opened the pen cap.
She began writing the first line on the white page.
At first the sounds inside the house felt too loud.
The low hum of the refrigerator. Distant car noise from the road outside the window. The pencil whispering across paper. Ria read a problem, read it again, and transferred the concepts she knew onto the notebook.
While reading a problem, she almost reached across the table out of habit.
Her hand returned to the notebook at once.
Without thinking she picked up her phone.
When the screen lit, the photo from the bench yesterday appeared.
In the picture she was smiling, leaning against the Hero’s shoulder.
Her cheeks were flushed, but the corners of her mouth had risen naturally.
She set the phone down again.
“Try it first.”
She murmured the words softly and looked back at the textbook.
The problems were similar to concepts she had learned in the other world, yet different. The words seemed familiar, but Earth’s definitions shifted a little. On the notebook she wrote the definition she knew, then copied the textbook’s sentence beside it.
She drew small lines under the differing words.
With the pencil tip she marked the lines she thought were wrong.
She tried solving it once more.
Even so, she stalled on the next line.
At the bottom of the notebook she wrote briefly first.
Understood up to here.
The standard changes from the next line.
Only then did she pick up the phone.
She turned on the camera and carefully adjusted the angle so both notebook and textbook would show. The first photo cast too much shadow. She shifted her body a little to the side and took it again.
In the second photo the writing showed clearly.
She opened the message window.
Could you look and tell me where I went wrong?
After she pressed send, her fingertip stopped at the edge of the phone.
No reply came right away.
He would be in class.
She set the phone beside the table and moved on to the next problem.
After she had written a few more lines, the phone gave a small chime.
Ria lifted her head.
From the next line you need to switch to the Earth definition.
Check the bottom of page 42 in the textbook.
She hurriedly flipped through the book. At the bottom of page 42 was a small table. It was the part she had skimmed past earlier.
Looking at the table, her eyes widened a little.
She sent the reply and picked up the pencil once more.
This time the lines connected.
The problem solved all the way through.
Ria drew a small circle on one side of the notebook. She still did not know if the answer was perfect, but a path had opened more clearly than before.
A short conversation remained beneath the couple photo.
Small answers from the Hero in class, sitting on the table.
She lifted the corners of her mouth a little and opened the next problem.
When she checked the clock, lunchtime had already passed.
Ria set the pencil down. Faint pencil marks clung to her fingertips. She looked at her fingers for a moment, then stood.
Standing in front of the refrigerator, she recalled the compartments the Hero had shown her that morning.
Rice here.
Side dishes in the upper compartment.
Soup not in the small pot—today, a bowl that was easy to reheat.
She opened the refrigerator door. Cool air touched her arms. She took out two side-dish plates and a rice bowl and set them on the table. She opened the microwave, put the rice in, then paused in front of the buttons.
“One minute.”
She pressed the button.
Inside the microwave the bowl turned slowly.
When the beep sounded, she carefully opened the door. Wrapping a dish towel around her hand, she took the bowl out. Holding her hand near the rice, she found the center still cold.
She put the rice bowl back in.
“A little more.”
This time thirty seconds.
When she took it out again, warm steam rose from the rice.
She set the bowl on the table and checked the steaming rice once more.
She arranged the side dishes, poured water into a cup, and set down chopsticks.
The seat across from her was still empty.
Ria paused briefly in front of the empty chair opposite.
Then she picked up her phone and stood it on a small stand. When the screen lit, the couple profile photo appeared.
“Thank you for the meal.”
She said it very softly and lifted her chopsticks.
The first spoonful was hot.
She pursed her lips a little and swallowed.
The second spoonful had cooled to a comfortable warmth.
The side dishes were less salty than the Hero had described that morning, and the rice, freshly reheated, felt soft and comforting.
She lifted her phone and took a picture of lunch.
This time it was not a selfie. The rice and side dishes on the table, the cup, and even the couple profile photo faintly visible at the edge of the screen all fit into the frame.
She sent the message.
I under-heated the rice once and then heated it again.
A moment later the reply came.
Ria took another spoonful of rice, then pressed her reply with her fingertip.
After sending it she smiled alone.
A little later the Hero’s reply arrived.
She closed the reply and lifted her spoon again.
The table was quiet.
Beside the pencil lay a half-finished problem, and a small water mark remained where the reheated rice bowl had sat.
The phone screen was still on.
After finishing lunch, Ria carried the dishes to the sink. She turned on the water and washed the cup. She put the side-dish plates back in the refrigerator. When she washed the rice bowl, a little water splashed and left small droplets on the front of her dress.
She paused briefly, then brushed them off lightly with the back of her hand.
Then she returned to the table.
The textbook still lay open.
She sat and opened the notebook again.
The afternoon sunlight slanted a little lower than the morning’s.
Beside the problems she had solved that day she made small marks. Circles for the ones she got right, small stars for the ones to review. There were more stars than she expected. Still, the pages turned.
The phone chimed.
I’ll be home soon.
Ria closed the notebook first. She set the pencil neatly, slipped a bookmark into the textbook. She carried the mug to the sink and washed it, then gathered the eraser dust left on the table into her palm and threw it away.
Only then did she turn the phone on again.
The photo on the lock screen brightened.
Yesterday’s self on the bench was still beside the Hero.
She set the phone down and smoothed her hair with her fingertips. She lightly pressed and straightened the hem of her dress as well.
The door lock sounded.
Ria walked toward the entryway.
The door opened and the Hero came in. The same bag from that morning hung on his shoulder. His shoulders sat lower than they had in the morning, but the moment he saw her he smiled.
“I’m home.”
She met him at the door.
“Welcome back.”
“How was it alone?”
Ria thought for a moment.
Many things rose at the question.
How quiet the house had been.
Getting stuck on the first problem.
Retaking the photo to send it.
Under-heating the rice and heating it again.
Taking the lunch photo.
How many more stars there had been than expected.
Instead of choosing one by one, she spoke the first thing that came to mind.
“I reheated lunch, solved three pages of problems, and got one wrong.”
The Hero laughed as he took off his shoes.
“You got quite a bit done.”
She lifted the corners of her mouth a little.
“I think I’ll be able to reheat lunch a little better tomorrow.”
“Then can I look forward to tomorrow?”
“Yes. But it’s still not cooking.”
“Reheating matters too.”
He set the bag down and came closer to her. Ria naturally looked at his shirt sleeve once more. The sleeve she had straightened that morning was a little wrinkled now.
She lightly pressed the crease flat with her fingertip.
The Hero quietly watched that hand.
“You had a good day today, Ria.”
She paused the hand that had been straightening his sleeve.
Then she nodded.
“Yes.”
On the table lay the notebook still marked with pencil, and the place where the lunch dishes had left a faint scent.
Short messages remained on the phone.
Ria took the Hero’s hand.
“Hero.”
“Mm?”
“I think… tomorrow I’ll be able to take better pictures of the problems.”
He smiled.
“I’ll look forward to that too.”
She smiled with him.
On the table the closed textbook and notebook lay neatly. Beside them sat the phone in its sky-blue case. The screen was off, but Ria knew what photograph lived inside it.
The two phones that had lain side by side that morning were once again on the same table.
One near Ria’s hand, one near the returned Hero’s hand.
She looked once at that small screen, then looked at him again.
Today’s table had become a little more her own place than yesterday’s.