Chapter 406: Superstition in the Shape of a Sachet
It was Monday afternoon, and the campus buzzed with restless energy. Hurried footsteps, murmured conversations, and constant shuffles of papers filled every building. Midterm exams had filled the libraries to the brim. Every available bench or table was occupied by students hunched over textbooks and laptops. Some worked in groups, heads bent together as they whispered and argued through problem sets, while others sat alone, lost in their own worlds, headphones blocking out the chaos around them.
Darcy walked at a steady pace toward the library, planning to use their computers to run a new code he had written.
His bag slung carelessly over one shoulder, tugging at his shirt and revealing the chain of Micah’s necklace at his neck. His expression was calm, yet his eyes slid past everything in his path, his mind clearly elsewhere. He reached the glass door, pushed it open, and was greeted by the muffled hum of the air conditioner. He found an empty computer station near the corner, sat down, and powered up the machine.
As the monitor blinked to life, his phone vibrated against the desk. He reached for it absentmindedly, but his face eased the moment he saw the name on the screen. The corner of his mouth lifted as he read the message. He quickly typed a response and placed the phone away.
Turning back to the screen, he put away the coding program and instead opened the browser. He quickly filled in the registration details for the gaming start-up he had been planning. A faint crease formed between his brows when the system asked for the name of his company. He leaned back, rubbing his jaw thoughtfully. His hand brushed against the chain. He paused, then he smiled as his fingers typed in the empty space.
As soon as the registration was complete, without pause, he clicked into the forum and drafted a post, searching for an artist to collaborate with. After everything was done, he began to run the code for general processing and analysis. By the time he had finished, it was completely dark outside.
Gathering his things, Darcy grabbed his bag and walked out of the library. His steps were brisk, anticipation in his movement as he returned to the dorm. He wanted to share the news, to tell that person what name he had registered for the company. In no time, he reached the familiar door of Room 306.
Knocking on the door, he peeked inside.
Nick sat at his desk, books spread open in a chaotic way. His pen hovered mid-air, head raising at the sound of the knock. "Oh, hey Darcy, what’s up?"
Darcy looked around. "Have you seen Micah?"
Nick’s eyes dropped back to his book. He flipped a page and replied. "No. Russell said he took some leave."
Darcy tilted his head, confusion flickering across his face. "Leave? For what?"
Nick glanced up again. "You asking me? You are his close friend, aren’t you?" he retorted.
Darcy pressed his lips together and scanned the room again. "Where is Emile?"
"He got an exemption to stay home this week. Something about a family emergency. Said his uncle was in a car accident or something..." Nick replied absentmindedly.
The words barely left his mouth before Darcy jerked upright. In the next instant, he strode forward, gripping Nick’s shoulder firmly. "What? When?"
Nick’s eyes widened, gasping. "Ouch! I don’t know, man."
Realising his own intensity, Darcy let go of him.
"What’s with you?" Nick asked, rubbing his shoulder.
Darcy didn’t answer. He turned around and left the room. His chest rose and fell more quickly as he pulled out his phone from his pocket and dialled Micah’s number. It was switched off. His heart beat fast with anxiety. He tried again. No luck.
His finger hovered over the contact list for a moment, then he tapped on Emile’s number.
The line rang for a long time until it was connected.
"Emile, where is Micah?" Darcy said without a pause.
On the other end, Emile took a breath. "No idea. I’m not at the dorm."
"I know that!" Darcy snapped. "Wasn’t your uncle in a car accident? What about Micah? He wasn’t with him, right? Why is his phone off?"
There was a short pause before Emile replied. "Oh, my uncle was the only one in the car. Nothing serious. Just a head wound, and he passed out for a bit. Micah sent him to the hospital, but he was discharged today. Well... I heard Micah was dragged home by his grandpa."
"Dragged home?" Darcy muttered. But then he sighed in relief. "Alright. Thanks. I heard you got an exemption, I thought something serious had happened..."
"Oh, that? I couldn’t concentrate in the dorm. Gotta study for midterms." Emile replied.
Darcy rubbed his forehead, realising he had scared himself for nothing. "Okay, then keep studying. Bye."
He ended the call swiftly. Lowering the phone, he stood there for several seconds in silence. Even though Emile’s words had calmed his fear, his nerves were still tight. He had a feeling something was off.
Returning to his room, he tidied up quickly and lay down on his bed. He typed out messages to Micah and hit send. They all fell unread, like a stone sinking into a pool without a ripple. Nothing. No reply.
He exhaled through his nose and put his phone away. His gaze wandered, landing on the dark sachet lying neatly beside his pillow. His hands twitched, reaching for it. At first, he considered tossing it in a desk drawer, somewhere out of sight. But then another thought flickered. The image of Micah holding the same sachet, keeping it close. It made him hesitate. In the end, he slid it under his pillow, remembering the old folks saying it helped with sleep.
Darcy tore his gaze away from the sachet, realising he was starting to sound superstitious. He buried it under the pillow again and closed his eyes. He had never believed in such things, yet here he was, unwilling to part with it. Just because of Micah.