The boy is dreaming the same dream again. In the dream, the boy is being stabbed, like the usual. Constantly, repeatedly, always in the same place. The sound of his loved ones would pierce the air, screaming for help as they are hacked to death, begging for him to come save them. It’s the same dream he had a hundred times before. What’s different this time is the boy is just standing there, like a statue. He doesn’t block or dodge any of the attacks. He doesn’t parry or retaliate against his numerous attackers. He doesn’t even attempt to aid his family, something he has never failed to do until now.
Their cries fall on deaf ears. The boy doesn’t even look at his dying family. His eyes are busy scanning the horizon, as if waiting for something to happen. And sure enough, something does.
Suddenly there is an intensely bright flash. Like the light from a thousand exploding sun, the boy is forced to cover his eyes again like last time or else he would go blind.
After the boy has counted to ten and opened his eyes, he sees a huge fireball rising tens of miles away in the horizon. Even though it is impossible to see from this distance, the boy knows the fireball had vaporize everything it touches. The heat from the explosion is so powerful the boy can feel it from where he’s standing. The fireball continues rising into the air, climbing higher and higher like a demon clawing its way out of hell. As it rises, the ground under the blast it sucked up. Dirt, dust, pieces of rock, anything that is there is shattered into tiny particles.
The rising fireball super-heats the air, and the boy knows what’s about to happen next, again. The air is blasted outwards and creates a shock wave. Even though the boy knows the shock wave is coming and tries his best to brace himself, it still knocks him and everything around him backwards. The boy is thrown like a rag-doll until he slams into a stop against a cliff wall.
The boy doesn’t even groan in pain or pause to catch his breath, he immediately dodges to his left. A huge slab of rock crashes into the place he was leaning against just second earlier.
Just as the boy looks up to see what new danger he is about to face next, a flying piece of shrapnel enters his left eye and exits the back of his head, creating a huge hole where his brain used to be. The boy is instantly killed and the next thing he knows, he find himself waking up and starring at the ceiling of an unfamiliar bedroom.
“Fuck me…” the boy whispers to no one but himself. “It happened again.”
In his previous life, the boy was never a superstitious person. He would have shrugged off such dreams as being the result of a stressful and tired mind not getting enough rest. But since the Razors, falling through the Time Abyss, meeting the little girl and finding himself in the past, the boy has chosen to keep an open mind when faced with such prophetic dream.
The boy tries to use his limited omniscient to find out the nature of thing that is after his life. He continues to be bombarded with a bunch of Unknown messages, just like yesterday. The thing is moving too fast for the boy to discern it.
The boy looks to his side. Rolfe Primero is no longer there but her scent still lingers on the right side of the bed. No one can see it now now but hidden under the blankets, there’s a small area on the sheet that has been stained red with dried blood, proof that the boy had taken something precious from Rolfe Primero.
The diligent sixth year student is presumably downstairs, making breakfast. The boy sighs and looks at the ceiling again. He is tempted to take a nearby pillow and used it to smother in his face, anything to make him forget the memories of last night.
The boy had embraced Rolfe Primero for such a long period that when it was time to let go, the boy nearly collapsed after trying to stand up, his legs buckling after his strength had ran out. The diligent sixth year student scooped the boy before he hit the white tiles floor and carried the tired boy out of bathroom and onto the second floor.
Rolfe Primero brought the boy to a room and laid him gently on the bed. The diligent sixth year student got up and was about to depart when the boy unconsciously grabbed the entity’s neck with his left arm. The boy could have just let Rolf Primero leave, he could have pretended that tonight never happened, he could have chosen to forget everything in the morning. It wasn’t too late to back out of it, but the boy felt if he hadn’t done something then, he would regret it for the rest of his life.
“Stay.” the boy pleaded as he looked into Rolf Primero’s deep blue eye. The diligent sixth year student paused for a while. A sudden terror gripped the boy’s heart. The boy couldn’t tell if he would be relieved or feel regret if the entity rejected him, but Rolf Primero allayed the boy’s fear by kissing him.
The kiss was so long and deep, both beings didn’t bother breathing for several minutes. When their lips finally separated, Rolf Primero silently mounted the boy. The boy half expected the diligent sixth year student to be rough and forceful, but the entity was surprisingly gentle and accommodating. Maybe Rolfe Primero was being considerate to the boy’s severely injured condition, not putting her whole weight on the boy. The entity would also asked the boy repeatedly if it was okay to move or to change into a new position.
Whenever some new intense pain would shoot up the injured boy’s body, he would bite his lips, trying his best to conceal it. And each time without fail Rolfe Primero would put her lips to the boy, kissing him deeply, washing the pain away and replacing it with pleasure.
They ended up making love several times that night before collapsing out of exhaustion in a tangled mess of sweat and bliss. Before calling it a night, Rolfe Primero kissed him one last time and made sure the boy was in a comfortable and safe position before they both drifted off to sleep, the diligent sixth year student to whatever sweet dream she's experiencing based on the small smile she's displaying on her sleeping face, and the boy to his usual nightmare .
The boy stares at the ceiling contemplating the events that happened last night. In his previous life, if someone told him about the Razors or that he will be transported to the past, the boy would have just laughed it off as a bad joke. If someone had told the boy he would betray his wife by sleeping with another person, the boy would have punched that asshole's face in for uttering such unfunny crap.
So much for being faithful and true, sighs the boy as he silently apologize to his wife.
Last night… the boy isn’t sure if last night was the worst, gravest mistake the boy had made in life. He had hugged the Rolfe Primero and offered his entire being to the entity. Until now, the boy isn’t sure why he did it. Was it out of pity and sympathy after hearing Rolfe Primero’s story? Or did the boy did it in the hopes of winning the entity over to his side, using Rolfe Primero to aid his cause of saving the world.
Or was it because the boy had understood (even if it’s just a fraction) of what Rolfe Primero is forced to go through, his own situation being almost similar. Two kindred spirits having a special connection, sharing a bond no one normal could possibly comprehend.
Even though the boy didn’t live thousands of lifetimes like the entity, he has faced more or less the same amount of horrors as Rolfe Primero. The boy has been mild in his description of the Time Abyss, likening it to a dentist waiting room, when in reality it was far worse than that. A true description would be waking up in the middle of a surgery, with the anesthesia wearing off, feeling every cut and slice the surgeons make with their scalpels and bone saws.
The disturbing images shown to the boy during his fall there, scenes so terrible and soul-crushing, would drive a normal man insane if he was subjected to viewing them continuously for a week. And the boy was exposed to several millenniums worth. Putting some of his odd and bizarre behavior aside, the boy feels he walked away from the experience relatively unscathed.
Maybe the little girl put up a mental barrier in my mind, shielding me from the horrors of what I’ve seen in the Time Abyss, the boy muses. Which would explain why I'm running around trying my hardest to save the world... instead of just straight up murdering everyone once I’m freed from that hell of a place.
The boy wonders if the little girl is really interested in him. And if she did, what would she say if she learnt the boy is in another relationship. The boy dreads the day the little girl and Rolfe Primero would meet.
Hopefully, a portal to a Time Abyss would suddenly appear out of nowhere and sucks me in, the boy smiles wryly. Ah fuck it. Let’s just focus on one problem at a time.
The boy suddenly frowns. He has just come across some new information. A situation has occurred that requires his immediate attention.
They couldn’t even wait until lunch to make their move? sighs the boy. And shouldn’t they’ve learnt their lesson by now? Looks like the boy’s display yesterday afternoon wasn’t enough to show those Ouroboros idiots who they’re trying to fuck with.
Rolfe Primero is right. Mercy is for the weak… and for those who couldn’t get the job down, the boy smiles bitterly. There will always be fools who fashion themselves as dragons, and you have to pull off their wings just like you would a fly in order to show them how foolish they are.
The boy gets up from the bed. His right arm is still broken, it would take some time to heal completely. His left arm hasn’t fully recovered as well. But it should be enough to deal with the unpleasant business the boy will have to face in a short while.
Rolfe Primero has left some clothes and a new pair of shoes at the edge of the bed for him. The boy begins changing into the black shirt and trousers. He doesn’t bother with the shoes, preferring to walk around barefooted instead. After making sure his heavily bandaged right arm is sitting properly in a sling, the boy approaches a study desk.
He takes out a pen, an empty envelope and some papers from a drawer and begins writing a short letter using his left hand. When the boy has finished, he puts the letter in the envelope, folds it in half and stuff it the pocket of his trousers before procedding downstairs.
As he is walking down the stairs to go to the living room, he could hear the sound of Rolfe Primero humming happily from the kitchen. The diligent sixth year student is singing using her normal voice, no mana manipulation to make her vocal chords sound like a male. Guess I must have done something right last night, the boy smiles inwardly.
The boy is greeted by the magnificent sight of Rolfe Primero walking out of the kitchen carrying a tray filled with hot piping food. And no, the magnificent sight is not referring to the diligent sixth year student is who is wearing what seems to be an apron and nothing else when viewed from the front. It’s referring to the several warm blueberry muffins the entity has freshly made.
“Hey, I was just about to bring these up to you.”
“You didn’t have to. I’m well enough to move around.”
“Are you going somewhere right now?”
“Yeah, there’s some urgent unpleasant business I have to attend first.”
“Yup, who else?”
“There’s a parcel with your name on it outside the door. I assume it’s their doing as well?”
“Indeed. You would have thought those idiots would have wisen up and lay low by now.”
“Some idiots need more severe lessons than others. Just put them six feet underground and be done with it.”
“It’s on my to-do list, aside from mowing the lawn, cleaning the gutter and saving the world.”
“Looks like someone’s finally accepted the idea of moving in.”
“Yeah, and now I got to pull my own weight. Don’t want to be accused of being a deadbeat housemate.”
“Sure you don’t want to eat first? Not even for a bite out of a freshly made blueberry muffin?”
“You know as well as I do that we’ll never stop at one. And did you know these are my favorite?”
“It’s not like I made them especially for you. But I did ask around the students earlier this morning.”
“Ouch! There’s a sudden pain and explainable sadness in my heart. It feels like you’re slowly becoming my new favorite person.”
*smiles “Shut the fuck up.”
“I assure you, I will be back before those muffins get too cold.”
“Maybe I could interest you in something else. I’m not wearing anything underneath this apron.”
“Oh yes, you are.”
“Spoil-sport. You could have just let your imagination run free like any other normal person.”
“You and I both know we are far from normal. And what are those things called by the way.”
“Hot pants and a tube top.”
“They look very nice on you.”
“I’ve told you flattery will get you nowhere.”
“It’s not flattery if you’re telling the truth.”
“In that case, you can praise me some more.”
“You are the most humble person I know.”
“Oy, I said no lies.”
“You are the most harmful person I know?”
“Much better. This unpleasant business of yours. Are you sure you don’t need any help?”
“Nope, I’ve got it covered. And besides, Headmaster Joss told you you’re under house-arrest, didn’t he?”
“Pffft. As if I would let something like that stop me.”
“Well you have to. Or else the headmaster would be forced to expel you for flagrantly disobeying his orders. He’s been accused of showing too much favoritism to us already.”
“On second thought, it would really put a damper on my plans of going to the Summer Harvest dance this year.”
“And didn’t I remember someone telling me I should fight my own battles and not expect any else to do so for me?”
“That someone you’re talking about must be a person who possesses high intelligence and great wisdom.”
“Yes, and clearly humility is not one of his traits.”
“Don’t get me wrong. It’s not like I’m offering my help because I like you or anything. It’s just that I didn’t want the blueberry muffins to get too cold because you were gone for so long.”
“You do realize us yapping away like this is making those blueberry muffins lose their warmth every second. And again I’m suddenly hit by a deep sadness because I failed to find the word to describe what you’re being right now.”
“We are yapping away because both of us wants to have the last say in this conversation and neither of us wants to yield. And the word you’re looking for is ‘tsundere’.”
“Well I have a method that would definitely guarantee I have the last word in this conversation. And thank you for helping me find the word I’m looking for.”
“Oh yeah? What’s the method? And you should thank the Japanese. They have a word for almost everything. Tsundere, yandere, bukake, paizuri etc.”
*opens front door “It’s just three simple words really…”
“I love you.”
“I’ll see you in a bit.”
“SON OF A BITCH!”
Outside the house, the boy could hear Rolfe Primero cursing loudly. He smiles to himself. The boy has won that round and the diligent sixth year student is sure to give him a hard time when he gets back.
She really is a sore loser, the boy murmurs to himself as he picks up the parcel addressed to him, left at the front door of Rolfe Primero's manor by a member of Ouroboros this morning.
The boy heads down the hill, holding the parcel with his left arm, and walks through a forest that separates Rolfe Primero’s manor and the Whiteford Academy. All the while his head is heavy with thoughts.
He had said those three simple words in jest, just to win some stupid match, but now he’s wondering if there’s any truth behind them.
The boy shakes his head to clear his mind. There will be plenty of time later for him to sort out his feelings, but now there’s an unpleasant business he has to attend to that requires his attention.
The boy’s feet brought him to the middle of the courtyard outside the north hall. Just yesterday afternoon he was fighting for his life here, but to the boy it seems ages ago.
There the boy waits patiently, not caring if he’s attracting a small crowd of onlookers who are gathering at the edge of the courtyard. They are curios, and having known the boy for a short while, the crowd is sure something will happen.
After a while, a lone figure is seen walking from the sidelines. The young Ouroboros member wasn’t a participant in yesterday duel. He was in the support group, they were suppose to pass messages and strategies devised by Master Haithur to the three main attacking groups. Well that was the plan, until the boy cut down their line of communication yesterday.
The seventh year Class A student stops short in front of the boy, his mouth twisting into a cruel grin.
“I see you’ve read my letter.”
“Nope, but I’ve got your parcel.”
“Here, you can check it if you like.”
The boy throws the parcel at the seventh year Class A student with his left hand. The older student catches the thing thrown at him, and after eyeing the bored boy cautiously, he begins studying the item in his hand.
“You can see the parcel is unopened and it hasn’t been tampered in any way. Then how did the boy know what the letter inside actually says, you silently ask yourself. How did the boy know where to go, what time to meet, or if he should come alone or not."
"Something is churning in the pit of your stomach. Still your mind chooses to discard what your gut instinct is screaming at you. Next you will say…”
“It’s just some parlor trick.”
“It’s just some parlor trick."
“How did y-“
“You will begin to think it’s a little annoying that I’m starting to say your lines the same time as you.”
“But I assure you, my purpose is not to annoy you, but to plant a seed of uneasiness in your heart. This seed will grow in time. And when the end comes, with water filling your lungs, you will realize too late that you could have averted this.”
“And when you look up to the person who is drowning you, the one you called Father, your mouth unable to form the words to beg for mercy because your head is currently too deep in the river, you will realize the foolishness of rejecting my mercy today.”
“Hah! Now I know you’re full of crap! My own father would never kill me…”
“Who are you trying to convince, me or yourself? You sound a little bit unsure there at the end.”
“Are you positive you’re been a good son to him? Have you ever done something behind his back? Something that would incur your father’s wrath so greatly, he would kill you with his bare hands, but not before torturing you first? Slowly, intimately, in every way he knows you fear? Are you willing to bet your life on that?”
“Now, I will offer you a small window opportunity, and I sincerely hope you take it. Release my friends, Marven Jaste and Athorius Devs, and I will overlook your transgression today. You will then reject this momentous act of mercy, spitting it right back to my face, by saying…”
“Fuck you! I’m holding all the cards here!”
“Fuck you. I’m holding all the cards here.”
*sighs “Well then, you’ve made your second mistake today. You should have run once I’ve given you the chance, but now it’s too late.”
*sarcastically “Second mistake? Ooo, I’m so scared I’m shaking in my little boots. And what’s my first one? Taking your friends hostage and threatening to kill them if you don’t do what I say?”
“No, trying to bring harm to my friends and those I care is not a mistake. It is an act of war. One that would bring a rain of destruction so great, those who are foolish enough to try would wish they were unborn. Kind of what you’ll be experiencing in the next few weeks.”
“So what’s my first mistake? Tell me, I’m getting bored here.”
“No you’re not. You’re terrified and you are currently trying your best to keep the legs underneath you from running away and abandoning your soon to be sorry ass.”
“Now your first mistake, it’s a really huge one by the way, you would have learnt about is if you had paid more attention to the commotion I caused yesterday morning. But no, you were too busy stopping Bad Haircut Guy from getting the antidotes to aid his about-to-be-poisoned friends. And you got in his way because you thought if a few nobles died when I was fighting them, I would get thrown out of the Whiteford Academy regardless if it was my fault or not, then hunted down and be killed by the angry families of the dead students.”
“If you were paying more attention, you will learn that there is something you must never do. If you’re wise, if you wish to continue breathing, if you have plans of taking Tivona Philippa to the Summer Harvest dance and fucking her in the ass afterwards, there is one thing you should never, ever do to me.”
“Never stand between me and my blueberry muffins.” says the barefooted black-clothes wearing boy as he flashes the seventh year Class A student a smile that makes the older student starts shaking in his boots.
Hi, mushashi here. I've been reading the comments, and I can see a few of the readers are a bit uncomfortable with me referring to Rolfe Primero as a "he" instead of a "she".
Although I respect Rolfe Primero's life choice and the gender he chose to be associated with, I value the readers' sanity more.
I've made a poll. The subject would be "in my writing, should I continue to refer to Rolfe Primero as a he instead of a she". So please, calmly tell me your views on that.
And for gods' sake, let's have a civil discussion. We're all friends here. And I value each and every last one of you and your differing opinions greatly.
Guys, I didn't worded out the poll questions more carefully. Stupid me.
Just click yes if you prefer me using He
Or click no if you prefer I use She when referring to Rolfe Primero