What's "Help!" in Naikuno?

Sineko, "The Path"

   “Food tampering? That’s it?”

   Ayina said nothing, instead pretending to listen to the teacher.

   “Are you even listening?” Neia whispered again.

   Still Ayina didn’t reply. She turned all her focus on the front of the classroom, as if nothing in the world was more fascinating than provincial capitols.

   “I expected more from you,” Neia said, frowning. “I expected the hiyuman to be afraid for its life by now.”

   “Isn’t that a bit extreme?” Ayina answered at last, attempting to jokingly pass the issue by.

   “Maybe a little, but still: jun zi, Ayina?”

   “I’m trying, but it’s… complicated.”

   “Complicated? How’s it complicated?” Neia peered sideways at Ayina. “You do still want it gone, aru?”

   “Of course I do! But…” Ayina glanced toward zir-Han, who was busily scribbling notes on the giant wall-screen. “Mirohya’s back in town.”

   “Really? Sister Noeguré?”

   “Exactly! I mean, it’s easy to go around Si-Si; he’s oblivious. But Mirohya, she knows things. She knows why the hiyuman was sick last night, I’m sure of it.”

   “So? Granted, having an Arbiter hanging around makes it more challenging, but the Ayina I know lives for the challenge. What changed?”

   “I just don’t want my sister mad at me…”

   Ayina suddenly snapped upright, a smirk slowly spreading across her face.

   “What is it?” Neia whispered, now grinning excitedly.

   “I don’t want to be in trouble, and she’d still suspect me if it was Rin…. Meet me at the old bridge after school. We’re going hunting.”

   “For what?”

   Ayina winked. “A scapegoat!”

   “Zirega! Furika!”

   Ayina and Neia whipped their heads to the front of the room. Every single one of their classmates was staring at them, and zir-Han was glaring ominously.

   “This is class, zera’in, not story time,” he said sharply. “Hakreu zi?”

   “Yes, zir-girnuré,” they both answered in unison.

***

   When the reception finally ended, Eric bade farewell to his new acquaintances--“Won't be rid of us for long!” Brian had said with a grin--and agreed to follow Aejik on a tour of the campus. Now that he wasn’t in a mad panic to get anywhere, Eric found he could better enjoy the scenery.

   The winding pathways and thick green canopy continued to give the impression of navigating a forest, only now Eric was far less disoriented. Despite the clumps of trees and uniform dapple of sunlight, he sensed actual purpose in this labyrinth of wood and stone. He could even recognize buildings more fluently, and could distinguish between the wood beams and glass panes of the Classical-branch library, and the more contemporary and modest science wings.

   While Aejik was unfaltering in his sense of directions, his abilities as a tour guide varied depending on where in the university they were. While stopped in front of the Fine Arts wing, he managed a lengthy list of which courses were offered, and which famous artists had passed through these grounds. Regarding the Industrial Science complex, he merely pointed out the sign labeling it as such before breaking off into an irrelevant tangent about the proper way to season a stew.

   Smiling to himself, Eric remembered the similar way Aejik’s mind seemed to wander during zera-Gihekiré’s speech. For a single instant, Eric found himself questioning the capability of such a teacher. But something else came to mind that made Eric laugh to himself:

   He’s just like me, he thought.

   Indeed, like Eric, Aejik showed an enormous level of enthusiasm and attention in subjects that were of interest to him. Other fields were not so fortunate.

   Still, by the time they decided to plot a course out of the curious academic garden, Eric felt very informed about daily life in an Eraknian college.

   “Eya, Erik,” Aejik said, stretching as they walked. “Did you have a productive day?”

   Eric nodded sincerely. “So far, yes. I don’t think I need the map anymore. And I made a few new friends. So all in all, a very good day.”

   “New friends, aru? The headmistress would be happy to hear that. She organizes these meets every year for that very reason.”

   “Every year?”

   “Li liyo. Of course. We always have a few new instructors or guest professors. New faces to our big family. Zera-Gihekiré believes our success and cooperation is directly dependant on how well we mesh as a single unit.”

   “I guess that makes sense.”

   “The only differences this year are the distances our newcomers had to travel, and the scope of zera-Gihekiré’s address.”

   Eric smiled sheepishly. “I don’t think I heard the whole thing,” he admitted. “I’m not that great with lectures.”

   “I thought so. Eya, I never put much faith in lectures. Audiences--and students, for that matter--need to interact if they are expected to retain anything. Consider that my first advice as your supervisor.”

   Eric nodded in agreement. He and Aejik continued walking in silence for a few moments. A light breeze drifted along the path, carrying the sound of thousands of rustling leaves with it. As if carried by the wind, a lingering question surfaced in his mind.

   “Hey, Aejik?” Eric said. “Can I ask you something?”

   “Always.”

   “What do you know about zera-Hajia?”

   Aejik’s footsteps stopped abruptly. When Eric turned to look, Eraknian had frozen in place, a strange crooked expression across his face.

   “Uh… Aejik?”

   Aejik shook his head, as if waking suddenly from a sound sleep.

   “Eya! Sorry, Eric,” he said, a more Aejik-like smile materializing instantly. He trotted forward and continued walking next to Eric. “I was thinking. Did you say something?”

   “Yes, I… asked if you know Hajia very well? The headmistress’s assistant?”

   “Enlae? I… liru, I know her.”

   “Do you know much about her personal life? She looks like she’s under a lot of pressure.”

   “I don’t know if anyone knows much about Enlae. She has been at the university for three years, but she still stays detached.”

   Aejik turned his gaze upwards to the leafy ceiling. “It must be lonely,” he added wistfully.

   “I don’t mean to meddle or anything,” Eric said quickly. “She just seemed so upset today. Do you know if there’s anything I can do to help?”

   For a microsecond, Eric thought he saw a lightbulb flick on behind Aejik’s eyes. He looked again, but the Eraknian’s red eyes were once again warm and casual.

   “Actually, there might be something. If it is not inconvenient, would you try to talk to her occasionally? I imagine she could use a friend, someone to open up to.”

   “Of course I will.”

   Aejik leaned closer, lowering his voice. “Naturally, don’t mention I said anything. I do not want to embarrass her by talking behind her back.”

   “Sure, of course not.”

   Aejik nodded gratefully before turning his attention back on the path. Eric felt it was wisest to respect the silence, and neither of them said anything more until the great marble columns of Jugir-Eviré’s main gate had faded into the distance.

***

   When she finally returned to the reception, Enlae resigned herself to walk in zera-Gihekiré’s footsteps. As merely the headmistress’s assistant, she wouldn’t be required to make conversation. All she had to do was smile, bow, and occasionally provide a quick translation.

   Still, Enlae almost walked into the headmistress twice, as her focus was directed elsewhere. She hoped desperately that she wouldn’t encounter zir-Zirega or the hiyuman, Furiiman, again. At the slightest sign, she was prepared to vanish into the crowd, but she never found the need to.

   The reception ended an hour later. The assembly dissipated like smoke as the participants drifted away, either to continue their conversations in a more relaxing venue, or to attend to their other affairs.

   Zera-Gihekiré departed as well, accompanied by a team of bureaucrats, with Enlae left in her stead to oversee the cleanup detail. There was really no need for this; the crew was organized enough on its own without any direction from Enlae.

   As such, Enlae had nothing more pressing to do than simply stand under the Center Tree and watch the dismantling of the stage and the removal of fifty wooden chairs.

   “How fascinating.”

   Enlae jumped. Zir-Zigurai, the Linguistics professor, had appeared so silently he seemed to emerge from the great tree itself.

   “What are we watching?” he said with a friendly bow. Zir-Zigurai turned his attention to the cleanup team, who were busy loading chairs onto a trailer.

   “I think I’ve seen this show before,” he said lightheartedly, jerking his head slightly.

   Enlae laughed quietly. “I almost put this on the program,” she said, earning a chuckle in return.

   “Well, I had a fantastic time today,” zir-Zigurai said, stretching. “Usually no one cares to listen to me unless they’re getting academic credits.”

   He sighed dramatically. “Oh well, nie jin nie oru, I suppose. Such is life.”

   As if she had a window into his mind, Enlae knew exactly what zir-Zigurai was thinking. Not eager to discuss it, she slowly removed her headset and took her time folding it into her green armband. She could see movement from the edge of her vision, but couldn’t discern if it was a sympathetic head-shake, or another of zir-Zigurai’s trademark tics.

   “Aao,” she mumbled at last. “Did you meet anyone interesting, Zigurai-girnuré?”

   “Several. I’d say the most colorful, though, was that human from the History department. Connor, I think? A very friendly character, aru?”

   Enlae nodded. “Liru liyo. Yes, I met him too.”

   “And then there’s my new associate, Brendan. No human I’ve met understands Naikuno better than that man. We should get along very well, I’m sure.

   He flicked his head and paused to watch as the last pieces of the stage were carted away. “And then there was that other one. Freeman…”

   Enlae froze. Her hand moved automatically to grip her sleeve, where she still had zir-Furiiman’s handkerchief.

   “A very polite young man,” zir-Zigurai continued, apparently unaware of Enlae’s action. “Aejik certainly seems pleased.”

   “Yes…” Enlae said quietly. “He’s very… I mean, I think he’s nice, too.”

   Zir-Zigurai folded his arms and nodded. “I expect we’ll see a lot more of him.”

   Puzzled by this enigmatic statement, Enlae turned to face zir-Zigurai, but the old teacher’s expression was inscrutably blank.

   “Eya.” Zir-Zigurai straightened up and smoothed the front of his jacket. “I think I ought to run now. Take care of yourself, Enlae-yiko.”

   He waved over his shoulder as he retreated towards the main campus.

   Enlae stayed for a moment, smiling in spite of herself. Something about zir-Zigurai shone through his irregularities, always managing to lift Enlae’s spirits.

   But this time, it was different. There was a new feeling, unrelated to her old friend’s encouragement, and she knew it had something to do with the white cloth she felt against her wrist.

   She shook herself out of her revery in time to see the last trailer full of chairs sidle out of the Center Commons, and she followed suit.