Chapter Text
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Project EF VirusRegarding the collaboration with Xianzhou Luofu Research Institution…
“This has to be a joke.”
Not a very amusing one, if it was. Then again, fate’s humor had always been a little depressingly ludicrous—notable examples being the time Herta boredly wrote a paper on a subject she considered to be rather useless and it ended up being her ticket to one of the most prestigious research organizations in the world, to now, working on a joint collaboration project where her scholar ex-girlfriend of six years was the designated co-leader.
Life truly worked in miraculous ways. One minute you’re trying to decide whether or not half-expired leftovers would make a sufficient dinner, the next you’re contemplating catapulting yourself out of a four-story tall building because your project manager, assistant, and benefactor said, “Unfortunately, it’s not a joke.”
Of course it wasn’t. Of course, out of all the scientists that could’ve been chosen, it had to be Ruan Mei. Herta could practically feel the four o’clock migraine rearrange her neurons. “Tell me. Chances of a reappointment if I enlighten the director about the time I destroyed all the glassware in our laboratory because of her?”
Asta’s eyebrows skyrocketed. “Um...zero?”
Herta narrowed her eyes. “What about last year, when I tried to set the lab on fire?”
“Madam Herta, was the dispute between you and Dr. Ruan that bad?”
Truthfully, more than bad. Ruan Mei did dump her before they could even celebrate their third anniversary, and there had been a lot of screaming and empty tubs of cherry-flavored ice cream that particular day. Fun fact: Ruan Mei’s least favorite ice cream flavor was cherry; she was petty like that.
Still, she shrugged, “It could’ve gone way worse, I suppose.” Crossed her arms, “But that’s self-explanatory, no? It would be a disaster if I were to cooperate with her.”
A pause. “I see…”
Herta smiled as if she were the cat that got the cream. “So…”
“Though I don’t think a reappointment is possible.” Asta quickly cut in, “At least, not now! It’s not entirely their fault that Dr. Ruan is head of the department, and one of the best biologists in the field.”
And that was the infuriating truth, wasn’t it? “I don’t care,” Herta scowled, stubborn. “I just can’t work with her.” Or ever see her again, for that matter. She’d rather inhale a cylinder full of helium.
“Madam Herta…”
“Lalalala, I’m not listening.”
Asta sighed, settling the clipboard back to the front of her dress. “Madam Herta…six years is a little too long to hold onto past grudges, don’t you think?”
Six years. That was the entire span of their separation thus far; six long, painful years. Long enough to transform someone’s character and habits, and Herta was nothing but pragmatic; too many nights were spent cursing over instant ramen and failed experiments and envisioning an abundance of Ruan Mei-related theories: Ruan Mei, with her younger and hotter girlfriend who didn’t interrupt her with calls in the middle of a meeting; Ruan Mei, married to a beautiful politician with their 2.5 beautiful children plus an equally beautiful dog; Ruan Mei, developing a newfound liking toward cherry-flavored ice creams, which meant that all the tubs of cherry ice cream stocked in Herta’s freezer had been for nothing.
In conclusion: she’d probably changed, and so Herta’s carefully-mapped future where she would spend the rest of her lifespan somewhere far away from her ex-girlfriend was absolutely justified. And absolutely nothing would change that. Until now, of course. Fate was not funny at all.
She turned to the door, “I’m going for a walk.” A clear mind wouldn’t solve all her problems, but it would be a temporary solution to her inescapable paroxysm of irritation. And, she had to mentally prepare herself for the awkward reunion that would inevitably relive itself in every nightmare of hers for the foreseeable future. Whatever else destiny held out for her could wait.
“Now?” There were some shuffling noises. “I mean, sure, but there’s a group dinner scheduled in about an hour, at Belle’s. Please be back on time.”
“A what?” Herta furrowed her brows, “Can’t you reschedule it?”
“I’m afraid not. It’s the director’s personal invitation. There’ll be important guests and researchers joining us.” Asta’s eyes widened, as though something had just occurred to her, “And…”
“And?”
“Um.” A wince. “Dr. Ruan.”
Silence. Absolute pin-drop silence. The kind of silence that would definitely chase away all the Death Angels if they were featured in A Quiet Place.
“You’re saying,” Herta said calmly, “that Ruan Mei would be within my vicinity in less than an hour.”
“...Yes?”
“And you’re only telling me this now because…?”
“Um. I might have…forgotten.”
“You’ve forgotten.”
“...Yes?”
Just when it couldn’t get any worse. “Fuck.” Herta said, the urge to throw herself out of the building—four stories be damned—returning. “You are simultaneously the best and worst manager I’ve ever dealt with.”
“Thank you?”
“My Friday night is ruined.” She facepalmed. “I was counting on barbeque and Our Planet to rescue this situation, but now I have to hide from the masses and eat fancy food in the stall of a public toilet.”
“It won’t be that bad!” Asta cried. “You don’t even have to talk to her. Just, you know. Ignore her. Pretend she doesn’t exist.”
That’s theoretically and practically impossible; Herta has tested it many times before, and almost always they’d result in bug-eyed stares and bribery in the form of chocolate pastries. And there was only so much of those one could take before they inevitably crumbled. Plus, it was Ruan Mei: the beautiful and fascinating and impossible center of her universe before that fateful day happened. But it was different now, she supposed.
“If only you’d notified me twenty-four hours earlier,” Herta said, tsking. “I would’ve gotten myself a one-way ticket to the moon and live out the rest of my days there.”
“Don’t be dramatic,” Asta said back, dragging her out of her office. “Also, you should rehearse some speeches, just in case. And wear something nice!”
Herta rolled her eyes. Speeches and bad first impressions were the least of her worries right now, but whatever.
“I’ll swing by your place later. So,” a pointed look, “don’t even think about escaping. I will know about it.”
“Okay, jeez, I won’t.”
“Promise?”
“Sure.” Herta released a long-suffering sigh. “I promise.”
______________________
She lied. Or, well, technically she didn’t lie. It was just a minor omission of the truth; she did stay, and waited for Asta while agonizing over a formal fit where it came off as I’m totally over my ex, yet when they arrived she’d also almost immediately locked herself inside a stall in the public restroom of the fancy restaurant she’d already forgotten the name of.
“Madam Herta, you promised!”
Herta ignored her.
A knock on the stall door. She ignored her again.
“Madam Herta—”
“Oh, Asta!” Someone called out. “It’s been forever!”
“Marie?” A quick pause. Shuffles sounded out. Then, it was silent again. Herta breathed out a sigh of relief and slumped down the toilet seat with her knees drawn up. She needed the space to inwardly practice the things she’d articulate in front of her ex-girlfriend. Hello would be a good start. I’m totally over you, just so you know, would also do the trick.
Though her peace and quiet didn’t last long, evident in the sudden wave of giggles that washed over the room.
“You did not dump that man.”
“I did! And it’s the best decision I’ve ever made.”
“No way. Didn’t you say he was the love of your life a few weeks ago?”
“Things change, Anne. I can’t just stick to one person forever. It’s scientifically impossible, anyway.”
More laughter. Herta quietly groaned—really, why did she think that no one would bother her here?
“By the way,” soft splashes of water ran in the background, “have you heard that one of the runners of this virus thing is that young lady who solved the infamous predetermined universes theory?”
“No way, that self-proclaimed genius?”
Herta’s ears perked up, intrigued. Were these researchers? And were they talking about her?
A giggle. “She’s actually really smart. I’ve read some of her work before, and they were incredible.”
Unconsciously, Herta ‘hmphed’. She was one of the most intelligent scientists in this universe, if not the most, after all. People often acknowledged her research with praise and admiration, because it was just that genius.
“Ehh. I don’t know. Sounds like a bunch of bullshit to me, honestly.”
Anne—if that was her name—seemed to be shocked. “Are you serious? Have you read her paper about progeria? It’s insane.”
The water stopped. “Oh, yeah. Definitely insane. Mad, even.” The other voice laughed. “I feel like every scientist in that organization is fucked in the head one way or another.”
Herta frowned. She didn’t usually care for others’ opinions—research was research after all, and end calculations were more accurate than some nameless busybody’s verdict—but something about this conversation irked her to no end. With a huff, she decidedly stood up and extended an arm to push her way out, except—
“Ladies.” A soft, smooth, entirely different voice joined in. “Please excuse me.”
Herta froze like a deer caught in headlights. That voice sounded eerily similar to that of her ex-girlfriend’s. Nononononon—
An awed gasp cut across her panic. “Of course, Dr. Ruan!” More shuffling. Clicks of heels across tiled floors. Water ran in the background again, before the sound of a door closing could be heard. Herta felt her heart beat too loudly in the silence that suddenly enveloped the room.
She should write a paper on the science of her terrible luck. Why was Ruan Mei here now, merely a stall away from her? Where did she even come from? The situation was just ridiculous. And frustrating. Ridiculously frustrating.
It’s fine, Herta calmed herself. She will leave in approximately five minutes. Then I can leave and pretend I’ve just arrived. Asta will cover for me. I won’t have to bump into her in a public restroom where she’d just overheard two women discuss about me while I obviously hid in a stall for what felt like a million years—
“Herta,” Ruan Mei said, voice deceptively soft. “I know you’re in there.”
Fuck.
Herta stayed silent. This was a trap. She would not be trapped.
“Herta.”
She refused to be.
“Herta.”
Nope.
“I can see your shoes.”
What. Herta looked at her boots. So what if Ruan Mei saw her shoes. Lalalalalala.
A pause. Another minute ticked by. Just when Herta thought she’d given up, Ruan Mei spoke again: “Why are you hiding in there?”
Wasn’t it obvious? Herta almost rolled her eyes.
“Screwllum was wondering where you were.” Ruan Mei continued, then added, “Can we talk?”
They had nothing to talk about. And, she’d rather eat ten boxes of gas station sushi.
With her continued refusal to speak, another blanket of silence draped over them, thick and suffocating. Briefly, Herta wondered when Ruan Mei’s patience would finally snap under her stubbornness, would finally yield and leave like how she did many, many years ago. They will not speak ever again. This project would be in ruins. That was the only outcome she could think of, lying under this tension. 99% chance of occurrence: her doom. 1% chance of a miracle: her being thrusted straight to the sun to avoid any possibilities of a heart-to-heart with her ex.
Except Ruan Mei persisted. “If you continue to be like this,” she said, an ominous lilt to her voice, “I will simply stand here and wait for you to come out, however long that should take.”
Fuck. She’d quite conveniently forgotten that they match in terms of obstinacy.
“And I’ll kindly let the Director know that you blatantly refused to participate in this project and wished to surrender your position.”
And wit.
“You wouldn’t,” Herta scowled, conceding and slipping out of the stall. “You will not sabotage me.”
“Hmm.”
This wasn’t quite how she imagined it would go. But she should’ve known that anything concerning Ruan Mei was always unpredictable—she was like a puzzle that Herta couldn’t solve, no matter how hard she tried. Yet, like any adamant, self-respecting scientist, she threw herself in the thrill of the perplexity and drank in the heart-racing sight of her anyway; studying her slightly-longer hair, the new pair of white-framed glasses sitting on her nose, the ivory tint of the pearls around her neck. Then, gaze flitting down—to the dress that hugged her waist, to the lack of wedding bands in her periphery.
“You’re…”
Herta’s head snapped up. Ruan Mei’s expression was indecipherable, for lack of a better word, as she stared at her face.
“What?”
Her question went ignored. The topic swiftly shifted. “I’m rather pleased to know that you haven’t changed.”
Huh. “Well…I can’t say the same about you,” Herta said back, eyes fixed on her empty ring finger. “Any secret spouses? I’d say pity, but…”
“No.” Ruan Mei frowned. Then, after a pause, “There isn’t anyone else.”
What was that supposed to mean?
“Okay, well, um.” Herta turned away. “Nice seeing you again, or whatever. I’m going to head out first. Yeah.”
“Herta.”
She looked up. Ruan Mei continued to stare at her, and it felt like when they were together all over again: her stupid aquamarine eyes, her stupid brown locks, her stupid soft-looking lips. Ruan Mei was so stupidly magnetic that Herta couldn’t help but be drawn in by her, even against her own will.
“Can we talk?” Herta heard her ask a second time. Watched her step closer, until they were only a breath apart. Took in the subtle scent of her favorite perfume; the scent of plum blossoms. That hasn’t changed. “Later?”
Herta, when rewinding this in her head later on, would say that she really didn’t pause to think before she acted. And it was the truth, because in the moment when she pushed herself toward Ruan Mei, mouth clumsy against hers, she’d claimed triumph in that split second of surprise across her face for having successfully taken her off guard, until Ruan Mei kissed her back, and the realization of what she’d done struck her right in her chest.
So, like any responsible, rational human being, she shoved her ex-girlfriend away and did the first thing that leapt to mind: run.