4.1 To Save Ourselves From Destruction

Every era had its heroes.

"And its janitors," Haku said. "Yet no one sings songs about them. How ridiculous, for one name to carry the efforts of many. Do those heroes clean their own castle? Do they grow their own crops? Do they forge their own weapons? Then where are the names of the maids, farmers, and blacksmiths in history books?"

Every era had its contrarians.

"Regardless of your feelings on the matter, young man, this is meant to be an objective presentation. You're to interpret the data encrypted in grimoires under your own terms, but not analyze it. Please proceed as intended."

Hua, as usual, covered her face in shame. Akiha was numb to it by this point, so he did the same as the rest of the class—stare at the front, think anywhere else.

Haku closed his eyes. When he opened them, locking gazes with the teacher, he recited the textbook verbatim (which had the same content as the grimoire, just de-encrypted). Half a page later, she kicked him out. The next student in the line stood henceforth, awkward and confused, which described the average Haku experience.

Speaking of which, once class ended, Akiha and Hua found him at the end of the hallway, resting on a couch as though someone had tossed him on it and he hadn't bothered to move since. Upon reaching him, Hua kicked his shin. "Ow," he said. His expression didn't change, nor did he glance at them.

"You dolt. Must you always be so dramatic?"

"It's frustrating," Haku replied.

"Yes. Quite."

"Like talking to a brick wall."

"He's doing it on purpose," Akiha told Hua, like she didn't know. "The double, uh... you know what I mean."

"I do," she said, then kicked Haku's shin again. While he didn't 'ow' this time, he frowned. "You have one class left, don't you? Move. Akiha and I have a project due next class, so I'm unable to baby you. Or, what, will the woes of unequal distribution of wealth fix themselves?"

"Maybe," Haku replied. "Under an infinite timespan, everything that can happen will happen."

And while Hua might've had admirable patience (there was a reason why she still dated him), Akiha did not, so he kicked Hua's shins this time. She also didn't 'ow'. "Just leave him. He'll come to his senses eventually."

"Oh, but he won't."

"He will. Just not today. 'Everything that can happen will happen', after all. Let us go."

"Go," Haku said. "Do as you must. That's what everyone thinks they do."

Later on, as they desperately tried to freeze a bucketful of water into a perfect sphere for their Thermodynamics III lab, Hua's usual monologue began. Like her boytoy's madman ramblings, Akiha heard this the way one did rain. "He wasn't like this in grade school, or... fine, he was, to some degree, but not this bad. Day after day, I warned his parents. I still do, sometimes, but he's their offspring for a reason; of course they too refuse to listen. You're aware of the reason why he's here, right, and not under the sorcerer's tutelage?"

Akiha said, "Yes. You tell me every week."

"Because all the intelligence in the world is powerless against tantrums. And that's what this is! A tantrum. A phase. It's a phase. Did I tell you about the time Haku wanted to become an ascetic monk?"

"Yes. You tell me every week."

"He was convinced society was too 'impure' and that the only way to save ourselves from destruction was to return to our roots, so he—"

"Went to the roots of the tree of destiny or some shit and sat there for an hour. I know."

"—sat under the tree of fate! Naked! For days!"

Sometimes it was weeks, sometimes it was minutes. Akiha didn't know anymore. Knowing Haku, an hour sounded about right. They wouldn't finish the assignment at this rate; Hua's side of the sphere kept cracking open or bending to the side as they spun it. There was a REASON why they spun it. Without the proper technique, it'd be flatter at its upper and lower ends, fatter at the sides. But noo. Ranting about her boyfriend was more important.

"Did I tell you about the time—"

"Yes," Akiha said. "Let's finish this thing first."

"—he tried to prove the teacher wrong in the middle of a dissertation? The penis—"

"Hua."

"Sorry. Uh, apologies. You're right. We must focus." They did, for some time. Most other pairs were done already. The temperature in the lab was positively chilling, but large, glowing crystals grew around the room as though it were a cave, and as they regulated heat while absorbing some of it for later use, they'd oscillate between yellow, magenta and cyan. Haku had also broken one of the crystals (that one in particular shone intermittently).

...great, and now Akiha wanted to know how that sentence finished. The penis one. To ask would be self-sabotage, however.

They didn't finish in time.

Hua sighed. That was the beginning and end for her. For a lot of people, really. Even in this day and age, magic colleges were often considered frivolous, for what did sitting in a class teach that experience in the field could not? That's what Akiha's mother had told him, anyway, once he'd announced his decision to attend one.

'It's more about the theoretical application of knowledge,' he'd told her, to deaf ears.

'There's on field combat, of course, but have you ever considered who facilitates these techniques?'

'It pays more than if I had no diploma.' And then she'd listened. "You don't have to pay a cent. Half of the tuition will be paid via scholarship, half via loan. It'll be fine. You'll see."

Every era had its heroes and/or its janitors. That was fine. Akiha had never really cared for being a name to remember for a test, then forget about. Not everyone would—or could—be lauded or their deeds. That was fine. It'd be fine. What wasn't fine was potentially losing said scholarship because of those two nincompoops.

Such was Akiha's greeting that night when Haku showed up to their dorm, for a change. As usual, he brought a stack of books with him, though these looked less like the usual madmen ramblings are more like actual textbooks. Was it the start of a turnaround? Was he finally—

Ha, no.

"It's meaningless," Haku told him, tossing the stack of books on his bed. "Scholarship, no scholarship. College, no college. Life, death."

"...right. Get those things off my bed."

"Some of this might help you, I believe. You're more open-minded than Hua."

"What—oh, dear, what is it this time?" All it took was a few seconds of paging though one of the textbooks for Akiha to say, "No," then, "Get those things off my bed. Don't even consider showing it to Hua."

Haku tucked a strand of long, black hair behind his ear, which was pointed at the upper end, the way all Shiou natives had. Despite himself, Akiha's heart leaped a bit at the sight. He had to look away. It was a good thing Haku was too stupid to notice these things or else... what? How would he even react? 'Love is a social construct' or some bullshit. "This isn't about me, necessarily," he said. "Not anymore. I fear that if no one else acts upon it, a cataclysm might happen."

"Uh. Um."

Haku sighed in a way that implied it took great mental effort to lower himself to Akiha's level. "Haven't you noticed the anomaly lately?"

"The hole in the sky above the college? Why, yes. They're working on fixing it, however."

"No—yes, I suppose, but it goes beyond that. It goes beyond that." Haku lay on Akiha's bed, on top of the books. "Under the guise of preparing us for 'the world', they've failed to prepare us for life. Every day, discontent grows. If you manage not to drop out by the final year, you might be prepared for 'the world', but not the world. What else? What's next? More and more discontent, every day. Disillusion, perhaps. We spend so long waiting for the prophecized 'moment', but the prophet was always a myth. There's nothing but a dark roof at the end of the day, and the dread of tomorrow."

There it was, the sound of rain. "That's a you problem," Akiha told him. "You're also the prophet. I don't get this whole shtick of wanting to leave a mark on the world."

"It's not that..."

"Listen: you always leave a mark on the world. You are a part of the world, and you interact with it, therefore you affect and are affected by it. You leave a mark every time you breathe. Does a hero who slays a dark lord breathe better than his cook?"

"I no longer care for recognition," Haku mumbled. "It's all, as you say, bullshit. Nothing matters."

"If nothing matters, then why does it matter that much to you?"

"Because I want it to matter."

That was as much as he'd gotten to talk to Haku in a while—the person, not the husk. Before Akiha had kicked his balls when they were eight and had yet to speak, Haku's presentation about man-eating plants had moved him deeply, for he'd never really thought about how man-eating plants were often eaten by men (their roots anyway) and how, rather than evil, they just were. Most kids in class had seemed to disagree at the time, and the teacher seemed mildly disturbed (for the presentation just had to talk about the parts of a plant), but to Akiha, that was the wisest thing he'd ever heard. That life was about eating or being eaten. He was eight.

Neither of them were eight anymore, however, and Haku's childlike wonder and effortless good grades had given place to... this. Former top of the class, now at literal rock bottom. He only stayed because his parents paid out of cash, because of course they did. For how long, though? How long until Hua and Akiha could no longer drag him along?

"Read the book," Haku said, "And good night."

If to humor him could potentially mean reaching out, what was there to lose? Outside of time and respect for Haku. Whatever. Akiha slid the book from below Haku's back, who had closed his eyes. "Are you truly going to sleep on my..."

Yes he was.

On top of the books, too. The books he'd brought.

"W-what would Hua say if she knew her boyfriend was sleeping on another man's bed?"

"She'd ask to join," Haku replied. "Just use mine. Big deal."

Akiha did not, because he could not. He dimmed the lights at the desk enough to study without disturbing Haku too much. Like that mattered.

Sooner than later, he ended up opening Haku's—or, well, the library's—book.

The Theory of Nothing.

Well then.

Akiha began to read.