“Good, nice progression.” Dad commented as he watched me play a few more bars of music.

I was sitting on my bed with my guitar situated on my lap as I played it. My dad was sitting on the chair across from me, his own acoustic guitar in hand, currently unplayed, as he observed me picking away at the chords on my instrument.

This had been a familiar routine for us, over the years. Dad would watch me play, pointing out what I was doing well, and then making any corrections with things I was doing wrong. It was a comfortable routine we had, one we hadn’t been able to do much recently. Dad was busy with work, me busy with school.

“Nice, but watch that you don’t speed up too fast there. You’re starting to lose your rhythm.” Dad warned.

Making the correction he indicated, I slowed down the speed of my playing somewhat, and focused more on keeping time with how the music should sound in my head. It felt slightly more straightforward, and more natural now than it used to be for me. I suppose that was as a result of the minor improvements in the guitar skill I had been given by the mysterious Akashic Record and its blue boxes.

Concluding the piece of music I had been playing, I set the guitar down, flat on my lap. Relaxing back onto my hands, I lounged backwards more onto my bed.

“I’m impressed.” Dad said to me with a cheerful smile. “You’ve made some noticeable improvements since we last practiced together.”

Skills Updated:

Guitar Mastery 26=> 27

“Thanks.” I said back with my own sincere smile on my face, taking a quick sec to read the text of the blue box that popped up.

It was lucky for us that Mom had to go run some errands this morning, leaving the house free of her dominion and rules. This gave me the chance to set up my little portable mini amp in my room, and get in some much-needed practice time with Dad.

“I mean it. All the playing you must be doing with your friends really seems to be paying off.” He concluded.

He wasn’t entirely wrong in his reasoning. Still, he also missed the other major glaring reason for my modest improvement at guitar playing, magic super powers.

Something I couldn’t tell him about, for a number of reasons, his safety being the obvious biggest one.

That thought made me fall back into memories from yesterday, regarding the aftermath of the incident at the rundown apartment complex I had been at, and it's rather gruesome finale.

I still felt chills at the memory of Needletooth’s eyes popping in his head, and their remains spraying all over my and Gunderson’s clothes. The same feeling of nausea started welling up in me again, but I ruthlessly smacked it back down in my mind. I had showered and washed myself all over copiously for an extended period of time last night. I was perfectly clean now. No more gore or blood remained on me.

The clothes I was wearing were all trash bagged. I felt a little bad about throwing out that outfit, and Gunderson did insist they had a number of products that would thoroughly clean. Despite that, I couldn’t wear those clothes again, not after what happened in them.

Shaking my head, I looked back up at Dad, who was now looking at me with curiosity evident in his expression.

“You alright there? You looked lost in thought?” He asked softly.

“Uh, yeah. I’ve just, uh, had a lot on my mind.” I admitted.

“I can imagine. You’ve been through way too much recently, way too much.” He said with a strong, certain voice.

“Uh, yeah. I can’t really deny that, can I.” I said, scratching the back of my head awkwardly, unconsciously mirroring Scott’s most frequent mannerism.

“You don’t need to be embarrassed about that.” He said to me warmly. “It’s alright to reflect and think about whatever is going on in your life right now, good or bad.”

“I know, it’s just…” It’s just that I have so much I want to talk to you about. Still, I’m magically and morally unable to do so for the foreseeable future, is what I wanted to tell him. In the end, all I ended up saying to him was, “I don’t know.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked, putting the acoustic guitar he was holding onto the ground, and walking over to sit down beside me on my bed.

It felt nice, having him make the effort, but it didn’t change anything. Not really.

“I… no, that’s alright.” I lied.

“Sweetie, you can talk to me.” He said earnestly.

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Oh, if only that were really true…

“I… can’t Dad, sorry.” I told him sadly.

“Why’s that? Is this about what happened to you back at that party?” He guessed.

“Partly.” I admitted. “It’s… just been a lot of… what’s happened to me now because of it.”

“Hmm, have other people been giving you a hard time? Or is it the opposite? People are gossiping about you, and suddenly you feel yourself in the spotlight.”

“Um, yeah.” I said, a bit surprised at his observations. He was missing a whole truckload of context, but the overall feeling was close to accurate.

“Ha, see. I do know a thing or two about how you think. Even when you don’t feel like sharing.” He said with a playful smile that mitigated the slight rebuke he had given me.

“Sorry, I do really want to talk to you about this stuff. It’s just…” I can’t completely shut him out. It was either that, or admit some of what I was feeling. I guess I don’t really have a choice in that case. “I just feel… like my life has been turned upside down.”

Placing an arm around my shoulders, he said. “Okay, can you go into any more detail about that?”

No.

“Well, after what happened at the party, with everyone saying how amazing I am, and how thankful they are about me scaring off that animal, it feels wrong.”

“Wrong?” He asked me softly.

“Yeah, I didn’t do anything all that special.” I said, firmly believing that to be true. Without the inexplicable power-up given to me by the Akashic Record, nothing I had done that day what have mattered one bit. I was just lucky to have been picked out of all the people there, and even with that luck, I didn’t do all that great a job.

“People died…” I said in a shallow and quiet voice. The unsaid part was, that they died because of me, because I wasn’t good enough.

“I know sweetheart.” He said while giving me a comforting squeeze with his arm. “Whether what you did was special or not, you did chase that wild animal away and prevented it from doing even more harm. Maybe you could have done things differently, but then again, maybe not. Hindsight, and dwelling on the past is only good for helping you to do better in the future. Letting your mind become trapped and obsessed with the past will only distract you from the things going on around you right now.”

“...You’re right. I know you’re right. It’s just…hard.” I admitted, reflecting on my following words carefully. “I’ve been… helping out that person from the FBI, Agent Gunderson.”

“Oh yeah?” Dad asked, looking at me in the eyes a bit more intently now. “I remember your Mom mentioning something about him dropping you off at home. Something about a bright red convertible.”

“Dad…” I exclaimed in exasperation before letting out an annoyed sigh. “Yes, he drives around in a gaudy, overly flamboyant car, but he is still also an agent with the FBI.”

“Okay, okay.” Dad said while putting up his free hand in a placating defensive manner. “I’m only repeating what your mother told me. Go on, what you were saying then.”

“Hmph, well, like I was saying, I’ve been helping him somewhat with his investigation into what happened that night.”

“The wild animal attack?” He asked with a quirked-up eyebrow on his face.

“Yes, and to answer your unsaid question, he believes it might be connected to a larger case.” I exaggerated wildly. “As far as he’s told me, this, uh, wild animal attack, was likely a byproduct of some other criminal activity going on in the area. He mentioned something about illegal animal testing going on.”

This was the cover story Gunderson and I had cooked up, while he drove me home last night. I had pointed out my concerns about my parents, asking about why I was still spending so much time with him if the case he was working on was supposed to be closed already. This was mainly his idea for a cover story, but I added in my own little details to make it more believable for my parents. The illegal animal testing idea originally came from me.

“Huh, and how are you helping him with all that though?” Dad asked, the concern clearly evident in his tone of voice.

“Well, I’ve been kind of shadowing him while he follows up on some leads in the area. He, uh, was impressed with how I had handled myself at the party, and in the time he spent questioning me about what had happened.”

This was the part that Gunderson focused on in his contribution to our cover story.

“So what, he’s trying to train you in what it's like to be an FBI agent?” Dad asked in an increasingly concerned-sounding voice. “Is that the kind of career you’re thinking about for yourself now?”

“Not exactly, but I at least want to, um, get closure for this particular investigation.” I blatantly lied. Not about my feelings concerning the need for closure, but that what I had and will be doing had any direct connection with what happened back at the party.

“I guess I can understand that part at least, but he really believes you can help him out with his investigation?” Dad asked, the slight towards me quickly becoming apparent to him. “By that, I mean, you’re uh, not an actual trained FBI agent. You’re still only in high school.”

“I know. As I said, I’m only shadowing him. Taking notes, pointing out any details I might notice, uh, coordinating with other people for him on the phone.” I was running out of things to say to my Dad. Deception, and making up a full-proof cover story was still not something I was all that familiar with, yet.

“How dangerous is it going to be though?” He asked with an intense look into my eyes.

“Uh, not at all.” I unashamedly lied to his face. Okay, there may have been a small amount of shame. Maybe a bit more than a small amount, if I was being honest.

“Hmm, alright then. Just be careful with this. Promise?” He asked in his rarely heard stern Dad voice.

“Uh yeah, promise.” I said, sincerely hoping I could actually keep this particular promise.

“With that out of the way. How are things going in the dating department? Any cute boys you fancy at school?” He asked with a large mischievous grin on his face.

“D-dad! Why would you suddenly ask me something like that out of the blue?” I said while furiously trying to cover up the growing blush on my face.

“Ah, come on now. It’s a father’s prerogative to tease his children mercilessly whenever he gets the chance.” He said while laughing at my increasing embarrassment. “I thought we could use a more light-hearted change of topic.”

“Yeah, but, come on.” I mumble grumpily. “I not interested in anyone like that.”

“Oh yeah? Well, that’s fine too.” He said with a warm smile on his face. “But, even if that’s not the case, and you are thinking about someone that way. You can talk to your Mom and me about that kind of stuff too you know.”

“I-I know.” I mumbled. “I just, well, I’ve had a lot on my mind. All the stuff we were just talking about.”

“I hear you, but it’s also important to do your best to live a normal life as well. Life only happens once. Make the most of it while you can, huh.” He said with another comforting squeeze of my shoulders.

“I’ll try my best.” I said with skeptical enthusiasm. "I'll try…"