3.1) Fated Evening

In truth, Victor Truman was a coward. Indeed–despite his cold demeanor, his avoidance of death made him afraid of even the smallest things.

At this moment, Victor Truman nervously tapped his leg as he sat across Abigail in the private jet. She was peacefully asleep, her head softly resting on her shoulder and her arms loosely wrapped around her sword across her chest.

Then, turbulence shook the plane once more, and Victor held onto his seat handles once more.

“Hkkk…!” He involuntarily let out a strained noise, as he forced himself back onto the backrest.

Each time the airplane dipped ever slightly, he feared that he was going to die. He couldn’t die here. He just had to survive for a few more days. Then he would no longer have to fight for survival.

Still, it wasn’t always like this, was it? No, there was once a time he would sleep soundly on a plane. Back when pain and death seemed so distant and perhaps impossible.

His tapping intensified, and he fidgeted with his hands until he ended up reaching for his phone. He scrolled and clicked, looking for anything to do, but there was nothing. He had never installed a game on his phone, never subscribed to any entertainment services, and never installed any social media. That was the kind of man he had transformed into since the age of eighteen, and he sure wasn’t going to compromise on that now.

Perhaps out of habit, he pressed on the phone application. There were only two contacts that were marked as favorites, with one of them being Abigail. He would often call her during his times of distress, talking more casually then they would in-person. It was almost as if when they were calling each other, nothing had changed from all those years ago. But right now, seeing her face-to-face, he couldn’t wake her up and talk to her as if nothing had changed. He couldn’t hide himself from her.

He looked at his other favorite contact, who was missing a profile picture.

Perhaps I should send Alice a message, he thought.

…

Heh. What a thought.

Alice was fine. He had transferred all of his assets to her before embarking on this journey.  She didn’t need anything. And he didn’t really want to text her.

Well, he did. But it just wouldn’t be the same. Not after how much he changed. Not after how much she changed.

Still, it was memories of Alice that gave him comfort during times like this. And perhaps it would help him to imagine that she was there with him at that moment.

Victor closed his eyes, recounting the days that he would have traded anything to preserve.

***

14 years ago.

Victor Truman opened the door to his middle class family home with a big sigh. It was for the most part the same, usual day. He had spent all of his willpower trying to be an upright person during school without reward, then gone on an unsuccessful after school outing with Abigail, and had managed to keep his cool as he was yelled at by an old man who stole his spot on a machine at the gym.

Yes. Another day had gone by.

“I’m home,” he said in a weary voice.

Alice, who was wearing headphones, didn’t seem to notice him coming into their living room. She continued playing on the electric piano while humming a tune, clearly in the middle of composing a song.

As he got closer, he could hear her whispering lyrics under her breath.

“Please, for the sake of all that I know to be true,

Let my dreams reveal another future.

A gate to a peaceful tomorrow…”

As her fingers finished their dance upon the keys, she took a deep breath and took off her headphones. Victor, seeing this as a sign that she no longer needed to concentrate, folded his arms onto the headrest of her office chair.

“Hm…?” she looked up from the piano and turned her head to glimpse backwards. “Ah… Brother. Hello there,” she spoke softly.

“Hello, my future songstress,” he said with a smile. “Working hard again, I see. At this rate, you’ll change the world faster than I will.”

Alice smiled back at his simple statement, which made Victor adore her even more than what he believed to be possible.

Victor firmly believed that Alice was born to be a songstress. She had grown to be a fine young woman, and he was proud to say that she had been blessed with genetics far better than his own. Her black hair was long and strong, her face perfectly symmetrical, and had a natural smile that was never forced. Her smile alone had the power to comfort the brokenhearted, so he was excited at what she would be able to do using her voice.

But above all else, it was her own conviction that made him believe she could do it. She had not been motivated by anyone to become a songstress. She was simply born with the natural desire to bring happiness to everyone around her. Neither he nor Abigail had convinced her to make such a decision. That was something he and Abigail could never emulate: a pure heart.

“Did the movie ‘date’ with Ms. Kovacs go well?” she asked.

He scoffed and took his arms off the chair. “It went horribly. Again. Maybe we don’t have anything in common besides our goals.”

“Aw, don’t say that, brother. You guys are meant for each other.” She gently rotated her chair to face him.

He sighed. “You keep saying that, but I wonder that, sometimes. She’s a pretty blunt person, you know. I don’t think our personalities match.”

“Hehe. I guess you do get offended quite easily.”

“How would you know that, when you’ve never made me frustrated…?”

She laughed. “Still, brother... you know she never means to harm you. So maybe you shouldn’t take her bluntness at face value. She cares for you.”

“I get that. I know she cares. Still, it wouldn’t hurt for her to smile for me once in a while. I’ve seen it, you know: she’s actually pretty cute if she puts in the effort to try and look happy.”

“Do you want me to relay those feelings to her?”

He scratched his head. “It’d... be embarrassing if you did that for me. But, well, maybe she’d listen, if it was you.”

“Sure, brother. I’ll remember to tell her as soon as I can.”

Alice turned back to the computer, clicking away and saving her music sheets as files. Then, she exited the Sibelius program, turned the computer off, and got up.

She looked at him with concern. “Are you guys going to be okay when you guys meet up again tonight at the volunteering event?”

Victor sighed. “I’m sure it’ll go back to the usual. We’ll probably end up talking about something philosophical, then forget about what happened immediately after.”

She nodded and gently laughed. “Okay, then. I hope you’re right…”

Alice walked to the kitchen, readying to prepare a meal for them. Their parents were overseas, so she had taken responsibility to cook for them both.

And because she was the cook, he hadn’t had meat for dinner in an entire week–she was a strict vegetarian. Indeed, she would never hurt a fly. Even if there happened to be a cockroach or a spider in their home, she would prevent their parents from killing them and instead found a way to carry them outside.

Maybe he would have considered it to be insane behavior if she wasn’t so genuine about it. But she wasn’t the type to do things just because people told her that it was right. She simply disliked deliberately causing harm to sentient beings.

But Victor knew, even then, that if the real world was filled with people like her, the world would be ruined. Because creation must follow destruction.

Still, to him, knowing that there was at least one person in the world who believed in indiscriminately bringing happiness to everyone wasn’t so bad.

And so, Victor continued to ponder, watching her do her best to cook up a delicious meal for both of them. Of course, her cooking couldn’t beat their mother’s cooking when there was such a huge difference in the ingredients used, but he felt that the love and effort she poured into still doing her best was enough to make it just as tasty.

As he watched her cook, he felt a wave of exhaustion wash over him, prompting him to walk to the nearby couch and finally fall asleep.

***

After a peaceful dinner, Alice returned from her room wearing white chinos and a blue dress shirt, with a small red bag carried over her shoulder.

“Well, brother, I’m heading out!” she waved at him.

That’s right. She’s going to practice. For vocal lessons.

As he stood there, wondering why his internal thoughts were suddenly loud and clear in his head, he realized that she was still standing there with a smile on her face.

Right… She had a tendency of waiting for people to respond to her greetings and farewells. Because she always wanted to make sure the feeling was mutual. To ensure that the people she talked to felt as happy as she did.

He rubbed his temple, then smiled back with a soft sigh. “Right, right. Take care, Alice. Be safe.”

She shot him one last look of tenderness and stepped out the door. Then, she pulled out her wired earbuds and repeatedly pressed a button on her iPod, choosing a song to listen to as she walked to the tutor. And as she began closing the door behind her, time seemed to slow down.

Hey, shouldn’t I stop her?

He blinked, surprised by his sudden thoughts. This wasn’t how it happened.

Huh? What’s going on? Am I dreaming? Did I fall asleep? Still, I should stop her. Or else, she’ll… I’ll…

As the door closed, he immediately walked up to the door and reopened it.

“Wait! Alice!”

“Hm?” She stopped in their front yard, temporarily taking off her earphones and keeping them a few inches away from her ears. “Yes?”

“Maybe, well… you should skip practice today.”

Her eyes widened. “Huh? Why?”

“I, uh, you know, get this feeling that neither one of us should leave today. We should just stay home.”

She paused, as if taking in his strange behavior. Eventually, she tilted her head.

“Are you feeling unwell, brother?”

“Uh, yeah. I’m feeling really, really sick,” he said. “Horrible. Disastrous. Catastrophic, even.”

She looked him up and down. “Are you sure? You don’t look too tired to me. Are you just that embarrassed to see Ms. Kovacs again?” She grinned.

Please don’t leave, he silently thought, unable to verbally admit that he needed her very much.

A silence followed. Then, the playful look on her face slowly faded, as if noticing his sincerity. She finally stopped holding her earphones up and put them back inside her small bag.

“If it’s for you, then sure. I will stay.”

She walked closer, then looked up at him with a concerned expression, as if finally realizing her brother's weariness. “Do you want to lie down?”

He weakly nodded.

Alice took him by his hand and led him back inside, sat him down on the couch, and placed his head on her lap.

“You’ll be okay, brother. You’ll be alright.”

Victor looked at his hand. It was old and calloused. They were the same hands he now had in reality, fourteen years since then. Ah. So this really was a dream, after all. This happened quite often–he would think about memories of his youth, then end up falling asleep. It must have been one of those times.

Then, he heard her put her bag aside and felt her hand gently pat him on the head.

“I’m certain everything will turn out to be fine. You have Ms. Kovacs with you, after all. Everything will be alright. I believe it.”

He wanted to deny her hopeful thoughts, but he couldn’t bring himself to say anything. He curled up tighter and deeper. He had lived and experienced enough to know the world was a horrifying place, but he didn’t want to tell her that she was wrong.

“There, there.”

He was too ashamed to speak.

“I’ll always be waiting for you back home.”

Maybe. But…

… I’m the one who can’t look at you.