Tapping his foot impatiently on the ground, he waited. And he hated waiting.

Where is that guy?

If Raine remembered, the first and last person who taught him to be patient and understanding was his mother, but unfortunately, he never completed that lesson. He only realised now how useful it would've been had he actually paid attention and learned to control his temper instead of avoiding it; maybe then he wouldn't turn out to be such an uncontrollable freak with anger issues, especially in this circumstance.

Every single soul on this planet would call him a fool for wasting his time waiting for someone he had no idea would even show up.

At times like these, a simple phone call did the job; he could yell, curse, and threaten the person for being late, or beat the crap out of him when he arrived at the agreed-upon location. But the biggest problem was that he didn't know the guy's number, let alone his name, his address, the name of his department, or the friends he hung around with; he knew nothing about him. And yet, he was waiting for him like a loyal dog chained to a pole in front of a coffee shop, who had no idea his master had abandoned him and would never come back for him again. Sad and pathetic at the same time. Knowing that, still, he would wait, because he needed his pendant back.

The basketball court was his favourite spot amongst all others in the university, but after waiting there for more than two hours, he was bored with it all. As he glanced up, another growl escaped his lips. He was tired of counting the number of tiny holes along the margins of the roof and wondering when the management crew was coming to replace it before the forthcoming seasonal tournament; it was freaking blinding with streaks of sunlight peeping in. It would never occur to him how their university devolved into such a mess.

He drew his gaze away from the roof to the new players on the court, most of whom were first-year students. They were practising for tryouts to be held next week, which he would be judging. And nothing seemed to be going right, with the way they were dribbling, catching, and throwing. He was sick of looking at the newcomers consistently miss shots. How noob could one be? It made him want to poke his eyes out. That's it. He wasn't going to watch them play anymore.

Leaning against the ball post with his back turned from the court, Raine continued to wait. There was no game on Saturdays, and he was supposed to be in class, but he was out there, waiting for that disturbingly weird stranger to show up so he could trade the watch for his pendant.

Strangely, though, he couldn't find an explanation for it but the most perplexing aspect about the whole situation was that he had no idea how the watch wound up in his pocket, and no matter how much he strained his mind to recall his memories, it wasn't happening. Maybe he mistook it for his own and picked it up after the stranger left, or maybe the stranger intentionally slipped it into his pocket while he was distracted so he could come back for it later and take chances on him again. That didn't sound right either. Ah! Why can't I remember anything? Screw it. Who cares?

Raine dug into his pocket and pulled out the watch, examining it for the umpteenth time that day. He couldn't understand what was so great about a cheap-looking watch connected to a worn-out leather strap. The deteriorating colour of metal around the face of the clock was irrefutable evidence that the owner hadn't been doing a good job of maintaining it. The cloudy glass casing made it almost impossible to see the hands of the clock; the owner had to have pretty sharp eyesight for this, and Raine was not surprised. Judging from the literal eyes of its owner, he could tell his vision wasn't bad, and if anything, it was probably better than his.

Another fifteen minutes passed as he mentally wrote an essay on the watch. After that was complete, he was back to waiting again. At this rate, he was transforming into a man who was very much capable of murdering someone, and if that microfibre floor cleaning mop with the long metal handle sitting innocently beside the locker room entrance gave off any indication of his aggravation, he was ready to grab it and strike anyone who approached him in the head.

-~-

Zen had had a long and exhausting day. She had been called to the administration office the moment she'd arrived at the university. After signing a dozen papers specifying why she had to leave the dormitory - on accounts of bad behaviour and poor conduct as the mean nasty warden had recorded in her student data - her credit scores had been cut and reduced to a bare minimum.

She was hanging by a thread now and if even a single credit score was taken away from her at this point, she could wave goodbye to her engineering degree. But she was only in her third year, right? She could make up for it in the fourth year, right? Wrong. That was not the case at her university. If she flunked a semester, she would have to take a special reappear exam after her fourth year ended, which meant it would take her five whole years to graduate when it could've taken only four. And she would not, under any circumstances, allow that to happen.

As that subject was already weighing on her mind, another issue arose - to make matters even more worse, she thought.

Zen rounded another corner inside the vast hospital wing, her mind racing with thoughts. It wasn't long before she spotted a familiar figure up ahead. Coming out of the consultation room was a short-statured, bald man dressed in morning joggers and a plain worn-out sweatshirt with a pair of decade-old leather slippers. The man was none other than her father.

"Dad? Why are you here by yourself? I told you to wait for me," Zen shouted, sprinting to her father and immediately locking her arms with his as soon as she reached his side. She then walked beside him, grumbling out incoherent words to herself.

"Stop treating me like a child again. It's just a routine check-up at the hospital. Why do I have to trouble you for such trivial matters?" her father retorted, patting the back of her hand that was resting on his arm. "I texted you, didn't I? I told you not to come."

"But still." Zen came to a halt and took a casual glance around the place. Her father followed suit, curious as to why his daughter had abruptly stopped walking.

Zen did a quick scan around the facility, expecting to see someone of importance. Apart from the white walls, the reception desk a short distance ahead, a few chronically ill patients roaming around with an IV drip stand, and some visitors colonizing the area, she couldn't spot any familiar face in the crowd.

"Elliott should be here by now. Where is that kid?" Zen mumbled to herself, finally voicing her concern. She turned and looked up. The words Cardiac Care Unit was plastered on the top-most portion of the long, narrow corridor behind her.

"Are you stupid?" Her father smacked her on the head, taking her by surprise. "Your brother has school today. Why did you bother calling him to come here?" he scolded.

"Of course, I had to. I was worried that something happened," Zen yelled back. Bickering with her father was like second nature to her, and she was so focussed on it that she didn't even notice the weird looks people were giving them from the hallways.

"Sorry. Sorry. I'm late," came a new voice from afar. The person dashed towards them and came to a standstill directly in front of them, panting profusely.

"Elliott," Zen addressed her brother. "You're finally here."

"I just returned from school," Elliott said in between breaths.

Zen snorted, letting go of her father. She then eyed her brother up and down. He was so close to looking like a destitute beggar on the streets, still dressed in his school uniform - a plain white shirt and black shorts - with his tie slightly undone and heavy sweat streaming from his brows. But then again, when was her brother ever considered decent looking? Even if he succeeded in hunting down a female or any species of the opposite sex for that matter, he was doomed to marry a cow and take care of it for the rest of his life.

"Are you taking care of our dad properly? Why'd you let him out alone?" Zen said to her brother, crossing her arms and tapping her foot.

"My dear big sister," Elliott said sarcastically, "our dad isn't a five-year-old kid, okay? Who am I to stop him if he wants to go do something on his own?"

"That's right." Zen's father nodded his head. "Your brother's absolutely right," he repeated.

"Stop ganging up on me all the time, both of you," Zen growled, wanting to pull her hair out in frustration. Elliott and her father stifled a laugh at her actions.

"So, did you meet with the doctor?" Zen asked her father after she calmed down.

"I did. He said I'm perfectly healthy. I can even work and go out like any other normal person now," her father grinned, flashing her his bright, healthy teeth.

"I'm not convinced," replied Zen, shaking her head. "You must be lying to me 'cause you don't want me to be worried."

"This child of mine. It's like you don't want me to get better."

"No. That's not what I meant, Dad." Zen fought the urge to stomp her feet on the ground.

"Huh. If you don't believe me, look at all these test results and the doctor's letter. See. See." Her father revealed a folder case containing the test results that he'd been holding in his hand for quite a while and waved it at Zen's face.

Zen snatched the folder case and scanned through the documents before quietly putting them down. "I'll come back after speaking to the doctor," she said right after. "You." She pointed a finger at Elliott. "Stay with Dad. I'll come in a bit." With that said Zen ventured into the direction of the Cardiac Care Unit.

15 minutes later...

"So, did the doctor tell you that I'm perfectly in good health?"

Zen grudgingly nodded her head at her father as she came out from the hospital building. Without a word, she walked over to her father and brother who were both seated on a bench somewhere on the hospital's front lawn.

"This stupid child. Skipping classes and unnecessarily coming here to squander time," her father grumbled.

"I was worried," Zen fought back.

"Okay, okay. Now, will you go back to university or come home with us?" her father asked.

"I can't. I have a test tomorrow."

"Then what are you waiting for? Hurry up and leave."

"I will. I just-" Her words were cut off when her phone suddenly vibrated in her pocket, indicating that she'd received several text messages.

Nadia: When are you coming back? I can't wait to introduce Braxy to you.

Madilyn: If Nadia calls you, don't pick up. I repeat, do not pick up.

Lin: You scored an A on last week's aptitude test.

"Hurry up and go before the sun sets." Her father's irritated voice rang in her head.

"It's like you don't want me here," Zen replied, casting her father a disappointed look.

"Zen, you are a girl and my only daughter. It's dangerous to be out alone at night," her father explained.

Zen would've laughed openly at her father's words if she wasn't such a good actor. Ever since she got out of the dorm, she landed a part-time job at a convenience store near her university, where she had to take up night shifts from six to ten. Her father might be reluctant to let her step out at night for fear of the unknown, but she wasn't under his supervision back at university. His words weren't going to stop her from venturing out at night. Besides, she was a black belt in judo. She was very much capable of looking after herself.

"It's fine, Dad. Look at her," Elliott interrupted her thoughts. "She clearly looks like a man with that hair. She looks even more hideous than the last time I saw her. Even if she's out alone at midnight, I doubt anyone will approach her. She reminds me of the ghost from The Grudge."

"The ghost from The Grudge has long hair, for your information." Zen scoffed at her brother.

"No, not her. I'm talking about the malnourished kid in his underwear."

"Shut up, you!"

Elliott stuck his tongue out at Zen.

"Enough arguing, you two," Zen's father stepped in. "Zen, save me the trouble and go before it gets dark."

"What's the time now?" Zen asked.

"You're holding a phone and asking us. How dumb can you be?" Elliott mumbled from the side.

"You-" Zen took a confrontational stance, threatening to smack her brother in the face, but the latter simply turned away, pretending to look at some unknown plant breed growing in the region as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world.

"It's almost four. I'll leave now," Zen said, earning a nod from her father. "Elliott, take Dad home and look after him well."