Black and White - 1

1

The emotions of a human being can be deeply influential in their life.

These are immediate bodily responses to specific stimuli, present in everyone since the beginning of their life, although they develop over time.

Perhaps it is correct to say that they are the most intimate expressions of an individual, as they are a direct and automatic fruit of their cognition. They demonstrate their motivations, needs, desires and even goals, their perception of the world and of themselves.

However, when an emotion occurs, it is always accompanied by a feeling. That is, the person's interpretation of those bodily responses.

When a person becomes aware of an emotion, many factors become influential, such as their memories, knowledge and past experiences. This is wen feelings emerge.

Feelings cannot be divided into good or bad, as they are very subjective and complex.

This is why we can speak, on the one hand, of positive feelings, which are linked to pleasant sensations or well-being. And, on the other, of negative feelings, which are related to unpleasant sensations and discomfort.

The latter, of course, although not desirable, serve a function: To form an individual capable of relating to their interior and exterior, adapting, making decisions and setting boundaries.

In this world, full of small worlds within it, there exist the vinculation with objects, which nature escapes human knowledge. This is the reason why events that seem to make no sense, which people refer to as powers, occur.

The theory, at least, explains that these powers are manifestations of a person's feelings.

When someone vinculated has a strong enough emotion, their bonded object begins to react using that emotion as fuel, and what manifests in the real world (what can be seen) is a reflection of their feelings.

There are still many questions regarding this phenomenon, but there are things that, over the years, have been established as undeniable.

For example, that all humans experience emotions and feelings. And also, that these cannot be hidden forever behind a mask.

…

Throughout the month of August I did not have to worry about classes or studies. Instead, I just did my thing.

Whether it was going to the Heart of Gold, visiting my friends or spending quality time with my family, I had a pleasant start to my vacation. And there were quite a few emotions involved, that is for sure.

However, at the end of the month, on August 30th to be exact, one singular emotion was the predominant one. That day was marked. It was an important date for me and there was no way or reason to hide it.

From dawn to dusk, that emotion endured and slowly became more intense.

Hard as it was to believe, a home normally as quiet as mine was surrounded by an uncomfortable silence. As if it were empty, to the point where not even sunlight was coming in.

But reality was that there were people at home. Two people. One was my mother, working inside her bedroom on her laptop. And the other person was me, struggling to make progress.

I had a small clay figure in my hands, as well as a paintbrush and a glass of water at my side, which I considered half empty that day.

I was having a bit of trouble because I could not even see the figure. It was completely covered in a thick, dense purple substance, and I was not able to wipe it off with my fingers or a tissue.

No matter how many times I tried, the figure would not come out clean, and when it seemed like I was about to get it, a drop of that strange substance would fall back in the same place and ruin all my progress.

I was already a bit annoyed and exhausted. I stepped back for a few seconds, let out a sigh, set the figure down and rubbed my eyes. This caused my fingers to end up stained purple as well.

As unpleasant as it was, there was no way to stop or prevent the dripping, because it was no one's fault but my own and my mask's.

Sadness:

Its shape changed completely, so that it looked like I had dipped my face into a puddle of mud. However, its color was almost completely blue, and in areas such as the forehead, cheeks and eyes it seemed that the mask was melting and flowing down, slowly changing its color to purple. Like a ripe fruit, when they took on the correct color the drops would detach and fall, making a mess of everything they touched.

What was going on inside me, and the reason for that mask, was no mystery. There was a strong feeling of nostalgia growing in my heart, reaching the point where it was problematic.

When that happens, what is a person supposed to do?

At least for me, what seemed to make the most sense was to take a break. To occupy my mind with something that was not directly related to whatever was causing that emotion, accepting that I was not able to easily ignore it.

And so I did, getting up from my seat and slowly walking around my house, leaving a few purple puddles on the floor behind me.

Staring out the windows did not help. The weather was not like a typical summer day, as the sunlight was largely blocked by a bunch of clouds. But that was okay. I was not going out anyway.

Also, since no one had bothered to turn on the lights, the interior of the house was quite dark.

Leaving that aside, I was looking for something small and simple, that did not require much effort but could lift my spirits. And if I had to choose something with those characteristics... it would be a coffee.

I was not able to prepare anything professional, of course, since I only had instant coffee, milk and sugar. But that was enough. I just wanted to relax a little.

Also, because of how I was feeling, I could not possibly take the liberty of appearing at the X-Café. My powers were becoming a nuisance.

That dirty substance, whose dripping I could not stop, was proof that some things were not under my control. And if that was annoying to me, then it would be annoying to those around me as well.

It would have made more sense to stay home and that is what I did.

I made a simple coffee with milk under the dim light of my kitchen, with no goal in mind other than to sit down and drink it. But to do so, I had to wait for the design of my mask to change. At least enough to clear my mouth.

So, after I sat down, I first enjoyed the smell. Then I closed my eyes and rested my head on one of my hands. I stayed still for a few seconds, and my heart began to feel less burdened.

But…

At that moment, I was reminded of one of the characteristics of object vinculation. The one that can turn it from a dream into a nightmare.

What is known as the powers of an OV allows for any imaginable event to be possible. But, that day, that was not under my control. And as a consequence, what could happen was unpredictable.

Or maybe not. Rather, it might be possible to predict it on the basis that there was something I did not want to happen, since, ironically, that idea was weighing heavily on my conscience. In other words, the most likely thing was the thing I wanted the least.

…

When I looked up again, the calm I had just cultivated vanished.

I immediately understood that my home was more than a kilometer away and that the smell of coffee was not coming from a simple cup.

Somehow, I had arrived at the X-Café.

I was shocked, but I knew I had to do something. My first thought was to get up and walk away, but I could not do that. My feet were not there.

Apparently, the upper part of my body had grown out of a purple stain on my seat, but the lower part had not yet developed.

The second thing I tried was to take off the mask, but my fingers just kept digging into it or tearing off small pieces of the material. I could not pull it off, twist it, or throw it away.

So, I just stopped fighting.

I stopped looking for a way to escape and instead started seeing things differently. After all, I almost had a coffee at home and then I showed up at the X-Café.

So, if I could manage not to be a nuisance to others, maybe I could enjoy that opportunity.

Luckily, the tables were not full that day, and emerged from a vacant seat. I found myself on the second floor, where there was no one else but a couple. And, next to their table, a blonde-haired woman was serving them.

Lani was paying good attention to what the customers were ordering, but her gaze occasionally strayed to me. And I, for my part, waited patiently for her to come to me to place my order.

I used that time to organize my ideas and cool my head.

Shortly after, she arrived. She seemed interested in my mask and, judging by the trembling hand with which she was about to write, also a little worried.

Lani: Good afternoon… I don’t understand what’s going on, but I’d say it’s not something good. Is everything okay?

Twen: Mostly, though there is one thing that has been bothering me all day… But let’s leave that aside for now. Could I bother you with a Latte… With cinnamon?

Lani: Something like that wouldn't be a bother, that's what we're here for! ... Would that be all?

My response was a thumbs up while smiling. Although, as I did so, a drop fell from my mask and stained the table. Lani was a little confused, but she kept her mind on her work and left the scene.

I was left alone with my thoughts again, but I tried to keep most of them focused on the coffee. Or, in fact, the coffee and the figure I was working on at home.

Although it was not easy, I was able to make use of the powers of my mask. I grabbed a bunch of that strange purple substance and tried to turn it into the clay figure.

I repeated the idea to get my brush and the paints I was using, and it took me as long to do so as it took Lani to deliver the orders from the second floor, including mine.

She put the cup down in front of me and I immediately thanked her, before she could say a thing. Although, she did not really say anything.

She just looked at me for a few seconds as if something were off, but instead of addressing the issue she wished me a good meal and then went down to the first floor.

As for me, I went back to my own thing. Taking my time, not only because of the situation with my mask, but also because I wanted that figure to be as beautiful as possible, I started painting.

…

That way, after about an hour, I ended up with a small clay mask on my hands.

Its base color was white, although the edges were black. It was oval and had no holes for its imaginary owner to see, but in the center it had a kind of green eye surrounded by a black circle that extended below, leaving a trail that crossed the place where the mouth would be located.

By the time it took me to finish, the design of my own mask (the one covering my face) had returned to normal. That way, I was able to drink my coffee, even though it was already quite cold.

In any case, I was only satisfied when the outside and inside of the mask were sufficiently worked for its function to be fulfilled. And when that happened, I felt a great weight fall from my shoulders.

I leaned back against the back of my seat and stared at the ceiling, letting my mind go blank for a few seconds…

Lani: Do you want some chocolates?

Once again, Lani barged into my space. I would have certainly preferred to be alone at first, but at this point that was not necessarily the case anymore.

Twen: I couldn't say no to you, thank you very much... But why?

Lani: Because something's bothering you, obviously. And I'm already done with my work for today, so I wanted to talk for a while… So, what's that little mask?

She sat in a seat in front of me and spoke happily. Maybe it was because of the satisfaction she felt after finishing her work for the day. This time, unlike before, she wore her hair loose and the typical white sweater that almost covered one of her hands.

Answering her question, I showed her the clay figure I was holding. For some reason, I felt proud of my work.

Twen: Do you like it? It's pretty simple, but I think it turned out well… Although, to be honest, I have no idea what it could mean. It's just a design that came to my head one day, and I wanted to use it.

Lani: I see… I didn’t know you had an artistic side too. Do you often make masks like that?

Twen: Yes, as a birthday present for someone, although it's a bit complicated. I didn't feel like coming to X-Café today, but because of this mask I ended up here anyway.

Lani: Because of that mask?

Twen: The nostalgia I felt while working on it hit me harder than I thought, so my powers went out of control. For a short moment I thought about coming here to relax, but I knew it would be a bother. That's why I rejected the idea, but… You see.

Lani: So that's what's going on… But you're already here, right?

Twen: Yes.

Lani: Well, if you want to vent a little, I'm all ears.

She said that while spreading her arms out to the sides as if she were some kind of messiah who had come to save me. I was glad that someone could act like that for me, but at the same time, something about it made me uncomfortable.

Twen: Lani… I appreciate the intentions, but I don't think you should waste your energy on something like-

Lani: What are you saying?! We are friends after all… Besides, you already did that for me before, right? I think it would be only fair if I did the same for you.

Twen: But that…

For a moment, a thought crossed my mind. I did not know to what extent it could be considered a whim to receive help from a friend without expecting something in return... So, would it be so bad to let myself be spoiled once?

I thought about whether it was really something I deserved, or whether it would be right to tell her the truth he was hiding. However…

Lani: Please, this is finally a chance for me to do something for you.

After hearing her, I began to think that I was overthinking it, so I decided to set my doubts aside and let myself get carried away by my emotions.

Twen: Lani… Tell me, do you have time to listen to a story? It's quite long.

Lani: Of course, I have plenty of time. What is it about?

Twen: It's about my dad's birthday.

…

Twelve years before my arrival in Novadía, on the 29th of August, I remember spending a good amount of time sitting watching two people running back and forth.

They carried bags, food and made sure nothing was missing by checking their imaginary lists. They also checked my small backpack to make sure nothing important was missing.

At some point, one of those people stopped in front of me. She had long, dark hair, well-treated skin, and even in that situation, her face looked optimistic. It was reassuring.

She gave me a hug and then her blue eyes, perfectly matching, connected with mine.

???: Twen… Your trip is about to begin. Are you ready?

Even though there were many things I did not understand at that age, I knew what she meant by that. And I certainly found it very exciting.

Twen: Yes!

A man walked past us, moving quickly with a large beach umbrella on his shoulder. And the woman in front of me, seeing him, turned to him, placing a hand on his chest to stop him.

???: Yes? What's wrong, Milia?

Milia: Where's Twen's water bottle? It's not in his backpack.

???: It should still be in the kitchen, I haven't filled it yet.

Milia: Fine, I'll go get it.

Mom walked away and left me alone with that man. He looked at me, smiled, and spoke to me.

???: You seem excited, Twen. Perfect! We're going to have a great time celebrating my birthday. A little father-son trip… It's gonna so much fun!

Twen: Yeah! It's gonna be fun!

As Dad gave a thumbs up he happily let out one of his wide, bright smiles.

The plan we were preparing for was simple.

Dad's birthday was the next day, and what he asked for as a gift was a day with me in the town where he was born. He wanted to show me about what he used to do as a child, the places he visited, where he played, and other things.

Sadly, Mom was not going to be there that day. This was a father-son trip, to strengthen our bond while having fun.

Anyway, while they were organizing the activity I could see some casual kisses, as well as some jokes. They looked like an ideal couple, although for me, at that age, it was a bit disgusting and embarrassing to see.

And so, it continued until we were finally deemed ready to leave. I had to occupy one of the back seats of the car while Dad drove. It was going to be an hours-long trip, and for that reason we had provisions and multiple bathroom stops.

Before we left, Mom looked in through the car window. Ironically, although she cooperated in getting Dad and I off as quickly as possible, she held us back for a few more seconds just to talk.

Milia: It's weird to think that you're going to be thirty nine. Although it doesn't seem like it, you're already almost forty, Lyan… You're really getting up there in age.

Lyan: It's true... I'm already getting rusty, but if I'm lucky enough to grow old next to you then I'm fine.

Milia: Lyan … It’s really good that you can finally take a break, isn’t it?

Lyan: Yes… With all the work I've had lately, my body can't take it anymore. I just want to dip my feet in the sea and eat like a pig…

For more than a second, they both stared at each other without saying anything. And when Mom smiled, Dad did too.

Milia: I think so too. You have to enjoy these days as much as you can.

Lyan: Oh, I will, there's no doubt about it! … I love you so much.

Milia: And I love you…

After exchanging those words and a kiss, Mom moved on to say goodbye to the next person. She had already hugged me, kissed me on the forehead and also played with my cheeks, but she could not resist the urge to do it again. As she said, I was her beloved son.

Milia: Twen, I hope you have a lot of fun tomorrow. But remember to be careful… And take care of your dad. He can be very carefree sometimes. Okay? Would you do that for me?

Smiling, I gave her a thumbs up and her response was exactly the same. Dad, on the other hand, showed his disagreement by pointing his thumb down.

Milia: Good luck to both of you…

There was not much more to wait. The farewells should not be extended any longer because we were already somewhat behind schedule. However, it was not that simple.

My mom was a loving, caring mother and could not help but worry about seeing her family going away. Admittedly, she wanted to avoid thinking like that, since the idea of the gift was to make everyone happy and satisfied, but that seemed impossible.

Anyway, she wished us good luck with complete honesty and said goodbye to us for the last time.

Especially to Lyan, her husband. Their lips met again for one last kiss in an expression of their strong love.

That was, without a doubt, the last one.

The wheels of our car started moving and we quickly began to drive away. Thus began that unforgettable father-son journey.