The past two years had flown by in a blur, and Sana hadn't even realized when they had slipped away. She sat alone, deep in thought, contemplating what she could do to save everyone. It wasn't just about her family anymore—she longed to save as many lives as she could, to protect the smiles of countless others.
But she knew that doing so would require a bold move, one that involved going up—up beyond the confines of the underground walls. However, living within those walls came with its own set of dangers. With advancing technology, there were always those who would see her as a threat. They would stop at nothing to silence her if they thought she might challenge the status quo.
But Sana couldn't dwell on those risks. Her only focus now was the goal in front of her: she had to go up.
She first turned to her studies, hoping they might help her find some clarity. She'd almost finished her physics book, though the details about machines were foggy in her mind. Space and cosmos? That could wait. There were more immediate concerns.
Chemistry was another story. She remembered a few things, but it was metallurgy that truly sparked her interest. As someone passionate about genetics, she knew she needed a solid grasp of chemistry to move forward.
It didn't take long for her to write out the necessary chemistry notes, though it was tiring. Her real love was biology. She could write volumes on it, but tonight, she simply didn't have the energy. She was already drained from the day's work.
Today had been one of those days when everyone was expected to pitch in with cleaning. It was exhausting, and as usual, the task felt endless. "What a drag," Sana muttered under her breath, echoing Shikamaru's famous line. She smiled briefly—though she was often quiet, she could be quite funny when she let herself be.
But it wasn't easy to open up. She preferred to keep her humor to herself, at least until she felt comfortable.
Exhausted from the work, her body ached, and her legs were restless. She couldn't stay still for long. As she shuffled around, trying to find a more comfortable spot to sit, she was met with Levi's dry voice.
"Oye, Sana, why can't your ass stay in one place?" he called out.
Sana smirked, not at all fazed. "Because it got piles... Isn't it obvious? After all that cleaning, my body is aching like hell."
The deadly stare she received in return only made her more defiant. Pain could numb almost everything, even the biting comments from Levi.
The group had gathered on the couch when someone entered the room. A subordinate of Levi's handed a letter to Sana.
"Sanah, this is for you," the messenger said, before leaving the room.
Sana took the letter, unfurled it, and began reading. It was a love letter. The first love letter she'd ever received. But she wasn't interested in that kind of thing—not right now, at least. She stuffed the letter into her pocket without a second thought.
Levi, ever curious, raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"
"Nothing," Sana replied flatly. "Just a bunch of spelling mistakes."
They all shared a brief laugh, though it was clear the moment had passed. After a quiet tea break, everyone got back to their work. Farlan and Levi were busy counting and distributing money, while Isabel nibbled on something. Sana, meanwhile, was lost in thought, trying to come up with something new to occupy her mind. She couldn't shake the feeling that life had become too monotonous—cleaning, drinking tea, and little else.
It was during one of those quiet moments that an idea came to her. She could sing.
That night, as they gathered in the study, she hesitated for a moment before asking, "Oye, can I sing a song for you all?"
Isabel, always up for any kind of activity, grinned. "Let's hear your voice!"
Farlan gave a soft nod, his eyes twinkling with encouragement. "Go ahead."
There was only one song she was confident she could sing, and she cleared her throat before launching into it.
"Put your loving hand out, baby
Cause I'm beggin', beggin' you
So put your loving hand out, baby
I'm beggin', beggin' you
So put your loving hand out, darlin'
Riding high when I was king
I played it hard and fast, 'cause I had everything
I walked away, you won me then
But easy come and easy go, and it would end
So, anytime I bleed, you let me go
Yah, anytime I feed, you get me know
Anytime I seek, you let me know
But I planted that seed, just let me go
I'm on my knees when I'm beggin'
Cause I don't wanna lose you
Hey, yeah, ra-ta-ta-ta!
'Cause I'm beggin', beggin' you
Uh, put your loving hand out, baby
I'm beggin', beggin' you, ah
And put your loving hand out, darlin'"
She stopped abruptly, realizing she had forgotten the rest of the lyrics. The song had always reminded her of Erwin, especially the line about the basement. She couldn't explain why, but it always made her think of his cryptic references to it.
The room fell silent for a moment, but Isabel was the first to break it, her face lighting up with joy. "That was amazing!" she exclaimed. Farlan nodded in approval, while Levi cracked a small smile.
Sana felt a warmth spread through her chest. The joy in their faces was enough to make her realize something important: they didn't have much in the way of entertainment. Their lives had become so routine that even small moments of joy, like this, were rare.
Sana's thoughts drifted. She loved playing football, and she thought about the children in the underground who had never experienced the thrill of a game. They were so starved for joy that she longed to give them something, anything, to make them feel alive again. She would find a way to bring that joy to them, to remind them that they were still human.
As the night wore on, the group settled down to sleep. Levi was already starting his next round of cleaning. Sana knew that keeping busy was important—not just for maintaining order, but for maintaining sanity. For Levi, it was his way of interacting with others. It was one of the few ways he allowed himself to be part of something bigger than his own isolation.
Sana, though, was beginning to realize something else. The more time she spent with them, the more she began to understand them. They weren't just her comrades; they were people with their own stories, their own pains.
If only she had a camera, she thought wistfully, she would capture this moment. These quiet, simple times that held so much meaning. And that thought sparked something else in her—a new idea for what she would create next.
A new creation, something to bring them all a little closer.