Reflections of the Past | Ghost and Pals fanfic

16# Mission 3

{shortest mission ever lol}

Fayrouz was standing at the registration of the psychotherapy, checking a long list. Some names of the clients that had shattered were crossed out, and despite all of that, their schedule was still full. Everything was at peace and quiet, and the silence was occasionally broken by the clock on the wall ticking on and on. All of a sudden, the door opened, and her eyes darted towards the short person approaching the desk. Only a little amount of skin was visible behind their black niqab, white concealer and crusty mascara applied poorly onto their face. They began speaking in Arabic quietly. "An appointment, please."

Fayrouz's brows raised at the sound of her native language coming from the other person's mouth. She was automatically nicer to those who knew her language, since it was rather rare in this dimension. "Sure thing, what's your name?" She picked her pen up, using a bit of a friendlier tone for the new client.

"Gofa," the other person replied, their voice sounding a little strange, as if Ai generated.

She looked up at the niqab woman and suspiciously narrowed her eyes, then wrote it down. "Last name?"

"Kyosalf."

She nodded and noted before checking the schedule. "Miss Kyosalf, when would you like to set the appointment?"

"Right now," Gofa stated.

"Right now?" Fayrouz' brows furrowed. "I'm afraid it's impossible. Someone else is supposed to arrive in approximately forty minutes..."

"Thirty minutes are enough."

Fayrouz' eyes stared into the other woman's unnatural looking iris, as if they were contact lenses, and silently judged her weird sense of style. "One appointment is only an hour long, no exceptions. Appointments can be booked online, through phone calls, or right now in person."

The impatient woman grabbed into her purse and whipped out a stack of green goods, slamming it onto the desk. She remained silent as she stared.

Fayrouz stared back before grabbing the money and sliding it closer to herself, counting each bill. With a sigh, she pointed at the hallway left behind her. "Straight forward, then to grey door on the right side, Missus Kyosalf," she said, her eyes never leaving the cash in her hands. The niqab woman nodded and left. As she was out of sight, Fayrouz muttered, "Why does someone with a rich man like hers need any therapy in the first place... What an ungrateful cunt."

As the person in the niqab was out of sight, they began giggling quietly and slowly taking off the niqab that covered their body. Their short, black hair and small horns came out from beneath the black fabric and they removed the bright turquoise contacts from their eyes.

Tamari's plan worked.

They folded the niqab and placed it into their small stolen backpack with hammer space while continuing to walk through the familiar white and bland hallways. Memories flashed through their mind, mostly negative ones, but he knew that those would be in the past soon enough. Once they reached the door, they grabbed the handle and twisted it open, entering the room fast before shutting it behind them.

Just as expected, Mariyam was sitting on a couch, and her eyes shot up at Tamari. She froze, her eyes scanning the face of her brother, only the skin around their eyes all in makeup. Why was he here? He was supposed to be gone, wasn't he?

Tamari was unphased and walked towards the couch opposite Mariyam, lying down sideways as their head lied on the armrest. "Greetings," he spoke nonchalantly, doing a peace sign with his hand.

"What are you doing here?" Mariyam whispered, sitting stiffly in her seat.

Tamari, relaxed as ever, sat up straight and faced her. "Your future escaping plan is the motivation for my unannounced arrival," they said full with confidence, to which their sister gave them a weird, surreal look.