A dry clang of the bell rang out, and every one of the workers began to tidy up. Ivy was relieved it was break time and gathered his things. He tagged his tray with his name and handed it, along with a piece of trant, to the counter.

  Putting his beaker at the washing station, he took off his gloves and washed his hands. It was finally lunchtime—he cheered inwardly. The other workers rushed to the underground canteen, chatting loudly as they went. Ivy stayed behind, checking his tools to ensure he could resume work smoothly after the break.

  He’d been working at the factory since spring. The job was simple enough—he just had to clean chunks of a mineral called trant and weigh them. It was as easy a job as one could imagine, so long as he was careful.

  But focusing on the scales for long hours made his shoulders and neck sore, and he was always exhausted by the end of the day. For two months now, his days had all passed much the same. He had no friends in town, and the only store he was familiar with was a small supermarket near his apartment.

  Looking up, he saw he was alone in the large room—except for Leroux and Char. Leroux was at a workbench three rows away, still focused on the mineral and preparing to start the next batch.

  “We should hurry, or we’ll only get that nasty chicken again.”

  He knew Leroux wouldn’t reply, as always. He walked over to him.

  “Lunch break’s almost over.”

  Leroux turned to him, mumbled something under his breath, and began tidying his tools. Meanwhile, Char had already left—probably off to eat the small lunch he always brought, alone on a bench outside.

  Once Leroux had finished, they headed to the canteen. The stairs, stained with black, slightly sticky trant dust, gleamed under the dim light.

  At the canteen, the manager—a stern woman—spotted them and called out.

  “You two are the last again. Only chicken left for you.”

  Ivy shrugged in disappointment and accepted the tray with dry chicken, bread, and vegetable soup. She sighed dramatically to show how much they were bothering her, then turned around and began washing a pot. It was said she was the sister of the factory president’s wife.

  The low-ceilinged canteen was filled with voices and noise. A worker around the age of Ivy’s father laughed in a peculiar way. A lab technician napped during his precious break. A group of workers chatted animatedly—each person enjoying their free time in their own way. Almost every table was occupied, as usual.

  He finally found two seats facing each other and placed his tray down. Leroux sat across from him without a word. A dusty lamp hung low between them, cutting off their view of each other.

  They ate in silence, bringing their spoons to their mouths over and over. The canteen was too big and too loud for conversation, and besides, Leroux only ever responded with a grunt or mutter no matter what he said.

  Ivy forced himself to swallow the stringy, oily chicken while listening to the hustle and bustle around him.

  Closing his eyes and leaning into the distant sound of adult voices, he felt as though he couldn’t quite believe he was here. It was hard to believe that just two months ago, he was still eating the breakfast his mother made, going to school, and playing outside all day. That life already felt like a distant memory.

  A strange feeling came over him—like he was losing touch with where he was, or even whether he truly existed. Was it sadness that was stirring in his heart?

  Six months ago, his brother Cobe offered to help him find a job in Selsor, but Ivy turned it down. He said he would find a job on his own. He felt it would be cheating if he didn’t make it by himself, just like his brother did. He might have been stubborn. He went to the public employment security office, gathered information about job vacancies, attended interviews at several factories, and eventually landed this job at the Thorarisson Trant Refinery. The job was simple enough that even he, who felt he was not capable of much, could do it. Also, they didn’t make him work late at night. Although the salary wasn’t very high, it wasn’t too low either, and he was content with what he earned. However, Ivy felt a bit envious of his brother Cobe, who worked at the port loading and unloading cargo every day, sweating and enjoying drinks with his coworkers after a hard day’s work.

  He hadn’t yet felt a sense of accomplishment after work. He wished he could one day say something like, “It was hard work today, but it feels great,” with a delighted smile. As he was lost in thought, he was suddenly nudged by a sleeve. The bell rang, and the other workers stood up, turning their trays back to the counter. Nearly half of them had already returned to the work area. When Ivy saw that Leroux was still standing there, he hastily stood up, realizing he had dozed off while thinking.

  “Sorry, I’ll be back soon.”

  He meant for Leroux to go back to work ahead of him, but Leroux seemed not to understand, waiting for Ivy to tidy up his tray.

  “Dumb idiot.”

  A voice came from behind them. Ivy turned around in surprise and saw Bruno, who was just standing up. His body tensed. Bruno walked toward the stairs with an unkind smirk. Ivy had learned over the past couple of months that Bruno disliked Leroux, who was always expressionless and strangely quiet. He had heard Bruno insult Leroux many times. When Ivy first saw Bruno, he was shocked that an adult, who was three or four times his age, could be so mean to others. He now understood that such adults existed, but whenever he witnessed it, he still felt uneasy and nervous.

  “Let’s go back.”

  Leroux, seemingly unaffected by the comment, nodded at Ivy and followed him.

  The afternoon shift began, and the workers became busy. No one spoke during work, not only because they were focused on their tasks, but also because there was an atmosphere that discouraged idle chatter. However, Bruno, who had been there for a long time, was an exception. He often muttered to himself, saying things like “Shit” or “Oh, I see.” He would also complain about the boss or talk about a girl he had seen at a pub or restaurant, often calling her “pretty” or “hot,” speaking loudly to the workers on both sides of him. Due to his constant chatting, Ivy supposed, Bruno’s work was generally slow, and he often made mistakes. However, Bruno didn’t seem to care.

  After finishing a task, Ivy went to the counter to turn it in and happened to see Char there. Char gave him a slight bow, letting him go first, and Ivy bowed back. Char was very quiet, which made Ivy think at first that he couldn’t speak the language of this country. But the other day, Ivy had overheard him teaching a coworker about minerals, and it was then that he learned Char spoke Aurelian quite fluently, though with a slight accent. Char was the first foreigner Ivy had met.

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  To be precise, Ivy had seen people who looked like foreigners at the harvest festival in his town, performing in the music band. But those people spoke Aurelian very well, and it was assumed they had lived in this country for generations. Ivy had never spoken to them, so Char was the first foreigner he had ever interacted with. Since coming to Selsor, Ivy had become aware that in a big city, there were some foreigners around. He had never really considered why they had come to this country or what their purpose was in leaving their homeland.

  Char was excellent at his work. He worked silently and accurately. Whenever he was asked to take on extra tasks, he accepted without showing any sign of annoyance. Sometimes even the research workers would ask him to teach them about minerals, given his deep knowledge of the subject. The factory manager relied on him, and even Bruno, who often complained about others, seemed to respect him. Ivy secretly respected him as well.

  All the work for the day was done, and he rushed to change clothes before heading out of the factory. He wanted to wait for Leroux to say goodbye, but he didn’t, as he had other plans for the day. Either the group leader or the elderly worker Oort, who worked next to Leroux, took him home every day. Ivy had once volunteered to do so when neither of them were available and they asked for help. Leroux lived in an apartment near the station.

  “As soon as he seemed to be heading directly home, he veered off. It’s tough work until you get used to it. Be careful.”

  He kept Oort’s warning in mind and took Leroux home. But it was harder than he had imagined. Leroux followed anyone or anything that caught his eye, such as a man in colorful clothes or someone riding a bicycle, and would disappear in the blink of an eye.

  In front of the factory was a wide road. A large tractor, likely heading to the port, rumbled past. Ivy imagined it might be carrying cargo that Cobe was going to load onto a ship whenever he saw such a truck. After crossing the road, he turned into an alley, walked along a pebbled street for a while, then turned left again. Finally, he arrived at Ivy’s apartment. Usually, he would head straight home, but today he turned right, toward the station. As he approached the station, the street widened, and numerous shops lined both sides. A trendy boutique, a fancy cafe with a terrace, a lively pub, and a grocery store selling a variety of foods. Just walking down the street excited him, though he had never visited any of them. He didn’t have enough money for non-essentials, so he felt guilty about entering and bothering the shopkeepers. Plus, the upscale atmosphere always made him nervous. Still, he had always wanted to visit such shops when the opportunity arose. Right across from the station, at a small café, stood Alma. She was holding a large bag in front of her, leaning against the wall, and gazing at the station.

  “Sorry to have kept you waiting,” he said, raising a hand. When Alma turned to look at him, she puffed out her cheeks.

  “You’re late.”

  “I’m sorry. Did your class end early today?”

  “Today’s class was sketching. We drew sketches at the station plaza, and we were dismissed as soon as we finished. So I’ve been wandering around shopping until now.”

  “Sounds great.”

  They entered the café together. Alma ordered a cup of coffee with whipped cream, her usual. Ivy, unsure of the menu, finally decided on a kind of tea and pancakes, labeled as “today’s recommendation.” Alma had started attending art school in Selsor just when Ivy had started working here. They both lived in the same city, but this was the first time they had seen each other in Selsor since then. It felt strange to meet her in a café in the big city, even though it had only been two months.

  “How’s school?” Ivy asked.

  Alma smiled and pulled out a large sketchbook from her bag.

  “This is the apple I drew on the first day of school. The teacher praised me, saying I captured the light and shadows really well.”

  On the first page of the still-new sketchbook was a distorted apple rendered in black and white. Though just a drawing, it appeared surprisingly solid.

  “This is amazing. You’re really good at drawing.”

  Alma smiled, turned the page, and began explaining each picture— a fleur-de-lis, a classmate’s face. He was impressed by every single one.

  “There are eleven students in the class—five are local, six came from other towns. I came from the farthest. But none of them had ever drawn before coming to school. I’m the best in the class,” Alma said proudly.

  “You were always drawing,” he said.

  Back when she was still in Wilder, she would sketch at her desk during breaks or doodle on scrap paper in Tesus’s garage whenever they gathered. He had never paid much attention—art wasn’t really his interest—but if the teacher praised her, she must be truly talented.

  “Juno, who lives in the room next to mine in the dormitory, is tiny and really cute. She’s super shy and bad at making friends. She can’t even eat lunch alone in the canteen—she thinks it’s humiliating—so she always comes to get me to go together.”

  She spoke about her dormitory life: how her roommate walked so noisily that the people below came to complain, or how drafty and cold the dorm building was. Ivy listened with great interest. Students from the same school living together under one roof—it sounded like fun to him.

  “How’s your work?”

  After finishing her stories, Alma asked about his new life.

  “Well, um, it’s fine. But I have to stand in the same posture all day, so my shoulders get really stiff,” he mumbled, sounding troubled.

  He didn’t have a lively classmate like Alma, nor was he learning anything new at work. He scaled trants, filled out specific forms, turned them in—that was his entire routine. He searched his mind for a happy memory: the tasteless food in the canteen, the whistle of the steamer echoing from the nearby port, Leroux—quirky but a very capable worker. Then Bruno’s face popped into his mind, but instead of saying it aloud, he asked a question.

  “Did you eat that stuff—chicken? I don’t like the taste or the texture. I still prefer quails or fish.”

  “Oh, I think it’s alright. It’s quite new to us, but not bad. And also, the eggs are huge.”

  “Right, that’s what I like the most.”

  Alma, apparently unaware of his gloom, gave a sophisticated grin.

  “Have you written to your family? I send a card to my mother every week. She seemed relieved knowing I’m enjoying the classes.”

  “That’s great. Your mother must be pleased.”

  Ivy smiled to cover his irritation. He had written letters during the first week of his arrival, and again the following week—but that had been the last time. His mother must be worried by now. He hadn’t written for more than a month because, frankly, there had been nothing to write about.

  “Tonight I’ll write that I met you in such a fancy café. It feels like urban life.”

  “There are many other fancy shops here. Sometimes the older students take us to one—like a variety store. It’s really fun to shop in this city.”

  Alma seemed to enjoy her city life completely, which made Ivy feel a little jealous.

  “How do you think Tesus is doing now? Mond should be a much bigger city.”

  Ivy took the last sip of his tea. He had finished it while they were chatting.

  “He may not go out much. He’s probably busy studying, I guess.”

  Tesus perhaps preferred staying in the library all day rather than visiting cafés. Ivy could easily imagine him getting excited about the wide variety of books, thoughtfully choosing which one to read next. They talked about Tesus in Mond, and enjoyed the moment.

  “Did you write to Tabby?”

  Alma asked while stirring her tea, though there wasn’t much left.

  “I did. I sent him a letter when I wrote to my mother. He just responded and said, ‘same old.’”

  “Hmm.”

  Tabby’s letter had been short and simple—just like him. He continued working in the same factory where he’d been a trainee as a pupil. The only difference was that he no longer had to go to school and now earned a monthly salary. Otherwise, his daily life remained the same: playing guitar, soccer by the riverside, hanging out with friends.

  Even though Ivy was living a completely different life now, thinking about someone who was still the same back home brought him a sense of comfort. It reminded him that, when he returned, he had a place to belong outside of just his family. In the last sentence of the letter, Tabby had written: “You should come back for the harvest festival.”

  “Are you going back for the harvest festival?”

  “Of course I am. Selsor is fun and I like it here, but I still miss Wilder.”

  They began talking about the time they went to the festival together last year. It felt like that time had passed so quickly.

  “I have to get back to the dormitory, or the matron’ll scold me,” Alma said, hurrying to catch a bus back.

  He watched the bus disappear down the road, then walked back the same way to his apartment.

  The streets of this city were different from Wilder’s, where only a few people walked in the evening. Here, the sidewalks were lively with pedestrians. Girls strolled while window shopping, workers poured into pubs after their shifts, and couples sat on benches gazing at the city lights.

  Yet the bustle made him feel lonelier, as though he were outside of it all.

  He heard a rustling sound above and looked up. Street trees planted in even intervals were swaying gently. The sight made him feel nostalgic, like running into an old friend.

  Between the trees, a patch of sky peeked out, framed by the buildings. The sky was finally growing dark, its pale indigo hue blurred by the city lights. A half-moon hung quietly overhead.

  Ivy quickened his pace, heading toward his apartment.