Demund half-heartedly sipped on the soup that was prepared for him. He had yet to be discharged from the hospital; his leg wasn’t fully healed, and the bandages had not yet been removed. Demund was eating alone. His parents had visited during the morning, but they had gone out to work. Things were still chaotic. The family had to adjust to Demund’s new lifestyle.
However, Demund didn’t feel that bad. He could still run in his dream. He still had his legs in his other reality. After some thinking in the alternate reality, he had been able to come to terms with his new life.
He flipped the pages of a book his parents had brought him. He still didn’t get a new phone yet, which was frustrating, but the calm mood of the room satisfied him. It was perfect for reading books and contemplating about life.
Just as he was about to flip to the next page, there was a knock to his room.
“Who is it?” called out Demund.
“Demund. It’s us. Can we come in?”
It was the sound of Riley’s voice. His friends had finally come to visit. Demund smiled to himself. He really had good friends. He felt sorry that the work they had done for him had gone unfinished.
“Come in!” said Demund.
The door slowly slid open and Riley stepped into the room with a basket of fruits in his hands. Rhyne was right behind him, also carrying a box of juice boxes in his hand. Their faces looked dark, gloomy and depressed even. Demund could tell right away that they were being very cautious.
But Demund disliked the mood. He hadn’t died, and he had had time to think. Enjoying what was left to the fullest was the best action he could take. He greeted his friends with a weak smile.
Just then, Demund saw something red, something very familiar and beautiful emerge from the back. The one he had almost blamed for his accident.
Enariss had a bag of something in her hand. She looked worried as well.
“Hey, Demund,” greeted Riley.
“Um…hey Demund. Are you feeling okay?” asked Rhyne.
Riley glared daggers at his friend. Enariss sighed from the back.
“What’s with the gloomy mood?” asked Demund. “Take a seat here. There are chairs over there.”
His friends silently set their gifts to the side of the room and each grabbed a chair from the table nearby. They positioned themselves next to Demund’s bed. All of them were strangely unenthusiastic.
“Man, it’s suffocating,” commented Demund. “I meant this mood,” he quickly said after their faces turned darker. They refused to look him in the eye. “It can’t really be that bad. I’m okay with it, so you guys have nothing to feel sorry about.”
“But Demund…”
“Riley, stop. This mood is killing me.”
Riley scratched his head and let out a weak laugh.
“Maybe we should have stopped you.”
Demund quickly glanced at Enariss and their eyes met mid-air. She turned away and continued to observe her hands.
“Riley, Rhyne, come here,” Demund whispered. His friends paused momentarily and leaned over to him.
“You guys didn’t tell Enariss about my confession plan, did you?”
Riley’s face lit up in a shock while Rhyne raised his eyebrows.
“Um, no,” replied Rhyne. “No, we haven’t thought about any of that yet.”
“I see. Thank goodness.”
Demund leaned back and let out a relieved sigh.
“Pff…Pwaa—AHAHAHAHA!!”
Riley suddenly burst out laughing. Rhyne and Enariss looked at him like he was some madman, but Demund felt relieved.
“That’s what you’re worried about!?” he cried while partly choking. “Are you serious?!”
A smile crept up Demund’s face. He knew how ridiculous it sounded. But his greater worries had taken enough of his time.
“Pff—”
Rhyne tried his best to stifle the laughter that infected him. The whole situation was ridiculous. Enariss looked at all three of them with slight shock painting her face. Her red eyes stared in disbelief.
“What’s so funny?” she said. She couldn’t understand. Demund had lost a leg. They had all heard it. And yet the boys were laughing like they had heard an excellent joke, Demund included. She felt weird inside.
“No, no, it’s nothing,” said Demund while waving his hand. “Just an inside joke.”
“Haaaah…” said Riley, trying to calm down. He wiped a tear off his eyes and took a deep breath.
“I’m glad you’re okay, Demund,” he said.
Demund smiled. “Come here, guys. Give me a hug.”
It was a sudden and unordinary request, but Riley and Rhyne came towards him and wrapped their arms around him. He felt their hands pat his back gently. Demund turned his eyes to Enariss and looked at her longingly. She looked back with uncertainty.
“Should I give you a hug too?” asked Enariss. Her face was still riddled with confusion.
“If you don’t mind?” said Demund.
Enariss got up from her seat and calmly hugged Demund after Riley and Rhyne were finished. It was Demund’s first time experiencing a hug from another girl. Her body felt delicate, and her hair was silky and wonderful.
“Thanks,” he said after she returned to her seat. Enariss shrugged.
“Well! Welcome, everyone. I’m glad you guys visited me,” stated Demund.
“Of course we will,” said Riley. “We’re your friends.”
“Are those things for me?”
“What do you think.”
“Nice. Let’s eat it now.”
Enariss cut the fruit while Rhyne took the juice from the box. The silence still remained in the room as they chewed and drank.
“I’m sure you guys know, but I lost my right leg,” said Demund suddenly.
Everyone froze like ice. The silence became tangible, and they held their breaths.
“I want to apologize. I don’t think I’ll be able to join the MMA Club anymore.”
“That’s—”
Enariss stopped herself from continuing.
He had promised.
He had told her, right? Told her he would join.
But she knew his pain. She knew the pain of losing something precious to you. Something so precious that it could change the way you thought completely. She carefully eyed Demund. His face looked relaxed.
Had he changed?
Had he given up?
“Sorry.”
〄 〄 〄
After exchanging words of comfort and small talk, it was time for Demund to change his bandages. It was time for his friends to leave.
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Riley and Rhyne waved to Demund as they went out the door. Demund smiled and waved back. But Enariss remained standing next to Demund’s bed.
She fumbled her hands behind her back. She was worried.
“Are you really going to give up?” she asked softly.
Demund looked down and silently touched his nonexistent leg.
“I…I don’t know. I can’t do much with—with this.”
His face twisted slightly in pain.
“But—but isn’t there any way you can…”
She stopped herself again. Had she been asking for too much? She felt anger rise inside of her. If only Demund hadn’t gone out that night, if only she had said no. What kind of bastard would crash into her—her what? Friend? Toy?
He was broken. But she still wanted him to push forward. To exceed her expectations as he had always done. To make her feel happy. She was selfish, and she knew it.
Why couldn’t she let go? Because she had invested so much in him?
It wasn’t actually that much. But it was the most she had done.
“Enariss…”
Demund sadly looked at his friend. Her face was locked in a scowl.
“Never mind. Goodbye Demund.”
“…see you at school.”
Without saying another word, Enariss turned around and left the room. Demund quietly watched her go and looked down at his leg. Or rather, a stump of nothing.
He gripped the blankets.
He had thought he had come to terms with himself.
He had believed he had resolved his mind.
But seeing Enariss make that face…
It wasn’t pleasant.
〄 〄 〄
It was cold. It was so cold.
Shaden shivered inside his blankets as he cast another warmth spell inside of the room. His family now knew that he could use magic, so they allowed him to spend his time reading books instead of sending him to the Swordsmanship Training Academy. He flipped through the pages once more.
He wasn’t satisfied anymore. He had spent the whole day learning magic, but it felt pointless.
According to his father, Rother had started training since when he turned six. Shaden was still five, but he wanted to do something.
That look on Enariss’s face…like she had given up on him…
He tightened his grip around his blankets. Surely there was something he could do. Practically, studying magic in this world was meaningless. He couldn’t apply it to reality. But fighting techniques and knowledge? Those were transferable.
But he only had one leg in reality. Would learning really do anything to help him?
He lay down on the ground, pushing his book to the side. Things were becoming boring and worse as the time wasted by. He hated feeling so helpless and useless. He hated doing nothing. This world was supposed to be a break from reality, but when reality lost its allure…he couldn’t feel relaxed anymore. He had to do something.
He got up from his bed and went to his drawer. On the very bottom, the sword his father had given him for his 2nd birthday lay side to side with the black dagger his grandfather had given him. He hadn’t heard from him since the day he received it.
The sword was very short—it was made for a child. He picked it up and swung it with his arm. It felt very heavy and solid despite it being so small. The wood was dark and hard.
He inspected the sword. It was smooth, still brand-new due to it sitting at the corner of the room, unused. No signs of mold, but some dust had gathered on top of it. He had thought of it as a decoration, but now, his mind changed.
He held the sword in his arms and went out of the room. His father was on the table, sipping on something hot.
“Dad.”
Garthan looked up from his papers and faced Shaden.
“Yes, Shaden?”
“I want to learn swordsmanship.”
“…why do you say that?”
“I want to be able to fight. Like you and Rother.”
“Hmm…”
Garthan put his papers away to the side and motioned for Shaden to come sit on his lap. Shaden obeyed and held still while his father hoisted him onto his lap. It still felt awkward to Shaden, who held the mind of a teen.
“Didn’t you say that you absolutely wanted to learn magic?”
“Yes…but…”
Shaden scratched his head. He couldn’t tell his father that it was because of reality.
“I want to be like daddy.”
“Hmm…”
Garthan had honestly expected Shaden to give up at the beginning. But his son had been able to understand all of the books that they had gotten him; he could even cast elementary magic despite his age. It was an impressive feat, so they had watched over him for the past months. He had improved in their eyes, and they had planned to hire a teacher for him. But now, out of nowhere, his son’s mind had changed.
He wasn’t angry. Just confused. He hadn’t seen anything or felt anything unusual that might have affected Shaden’s behavior. Why so suddenly?
“Dad will support you in whatever you do.”
“Really?”
“Really. If you want to learn swordsmanship, you can.”
A hearty smile—no, a relieved one bloomed on Shaden’s face. Garthan wasn’t sure what to think of it, but as his father, he had to guide his son correctly.
“But what about magic, son? Will you give up on it?”
“No.”
“Hmm?”
“I want to learn both magic and swordsmanship.”
Garthan blinked his eyes.
“You cannot, son. Taking up the sword means dedicating your life to it.”
Shaden stared at his hands and the sword in it. Dedicating one’s life?
Eh. Did it really matter? It was his dream. He could do whatever he pleased. Magic was fairly simple; he could learn it during his free time.
“Okay.”
Garthan tilted his head. He had expected his son to be more stubborn. He was about to give a speech about how significant holding the sword meant, but Shaden’s response cut him short.
“Can we start tomorrow?”
Garthan raised his eyebrows. Wasn’t his son being too impulsive?
“Shaden, learning the sword is no easy task. Your age and physique are…lacking. You probably don’t understand because you are still young, but enjoying your free time is a good thing. If you begin training, you will not be allowed to stop. How about you think about this with your mother?”
“…Dad. I promise I won’t give up.”
Shaden’s tone was serious. It made no sense. This child was 5 years old.
“You are absolutely sure?”
“Yes.”
“A hundred percent?”
“Yes.”
“You won’t give up?”
Shaden was quiet for a slight moment. He momentarily closed his eyes before opening them. His hands were curled around tightly, and the whites of his knuckles were showing with resolve. Why was his son so serious?
“Never again.”
Garthan thought for a second. Then after patting Shaden’s head, he let him down.
“Alright. But not tomorrow. I need to enroll you to the Academy. Do you understand?”
Shaden enthusiastically nodded his head. Garthan smiled.
“For now, practice healing magic. You’ll need it very much later on.
Shaden thanked his father and returned to his room.
Garthan was glad his son had chosen to follow his footsteps. Happy, even. But it didn’t feel right. Something felt off. Shaden was still young, so he wanted to teach him resolve and the will to carry out what you stated you would do. That was what being an adult was. A proper soldier who carried out justice.
But his son. He had already been resolved at the mere age of five. Garthan had seen the eyes of men who charged into their deaths, full of determination. Shaden’s eyes paled in comparison to that.
But a child’s eyes would pale in comparison to what Shaden had displayed.
It was truly unnatural.
He picked his papers back up again and read through the reports and letters. After being promoted, his workload had increased. He preferred running outside than signing papers, but work was work.
Shaden was his son. He would give him the freedom and trust his father had never given him.
〄 〄 〄
Enariss threw her pillow across her room. Her ability was inactive so the pillow harmless bounced off the wall, but her frustration was clearly visible. She was kneeling on the bed, her legs spread out to the side for comfort. Various items lay scattered around the room—the result of her irritation.
She wasn’t angry at Demund. No—she was angry at the person who had caused this. She had found someone excellent and someone else had ruined it. And they just had to do it on March 7th.
The fact that the culprit was essentially nonexistent made her fury rise even more. Sure, she could smash the automated vehicle into a pancake. But it wouldn’t accomplish anything.
She buried her face on the bed and let out a silent scream followed by a large sigh. She hated this. She hated losing people. Demund had looked so hopeless sitting on the bed in the white hospital clothes.
She had thought for a while. She had thought for a week. There was no point in breaking something that was already broken. But his potential had been so great. But he had stated that he had given up. But he had promised—but—but!
She let out another stifled scream to calm herself.
The room was quiet except for the small ticks of the clock on the wall. Enariss lay there silently.
Demund had returned today. He probably had crutches or a wheelchair. They wouldn’t help him fight. They wouldn’t help him run.
She suddenly missed him. They had run every night around this hour. He had always come to pick her up. Now that he was absent, something felt empty and lonely.
She got up and hastily changed into her sportswear. She would run tonight. She would run one last time and forget about Demund. It was for the best that she left him alone—she couldn’t see things getting better after what had happened.
Enariss exited the gates after putting on her shoes. She activated her ability and let the cool night air wash over her. Running let her get her mind off of complicated things. She didn’t want to feel sad. She hated feeling sad. She would leave so she wouldn’t feel depressed again. It was selfish. She knew it was. But she had suffered enough.
She dashed through the streets and lights. The neighborhood felt even emptier now that she was running alone. She continued to run, her footsteps quietly filling the empty air.
*……tap* *……clck…tap* *……clack…tap* *…clack-tap*
Enariss’s enhanced senses picked up a foreign noise from the silent air. Something she had never heard before. It sounded like—
*…clack-tap* *clack-tap* *Clack-tap*
Like running? The noise was becoming louder. The source was definitely coming around the corner. Just out of curiosity, Enariss hid behind a wall and peeked out.
*CLACK-TAP* *CLACK-TAP* *CLACK-TAP*
A figure emerged from the side. He was running. But he held sticks in his hands.
…Crutches?
“Demund…?” Enariss whispered.
Demund ran through the night as best as he could with what he had left. He felt great feeling the cool air on his face again. The hospital had been suffocating.
His policy was the same as usual. Try his best in reality and play in his dream.
Enariss watched silently as Demund huffed while he dashed with his crutches. He was painfully slow. He looked pitiful. His breathing was all over the place.
With a crash, Demund tripped and fell to the floor. Just when Enariss was about to come out and help him, he stood up right away and continued to run.
She decided to stalk him. He would finish soon enough, right?
So she followed him and watched him from the shadows. He constantly tripped, but got up and continued to run.
The seconds became minutes.
The minutes became ten minutes.
It became thirty minutes.
Then forty.
Then fifty.
An hour.
After an hour and seven minutes since she had started tailing Demund, he finally arrived at his house and went inside. She had never seen his house before. It looked pitifully small.
She peeked into the porch. One bike, some old shoes. Almost nonexistent decorations. Plain and bland.
Yet…today.
They looked very special.
She returned to her house, running through the streets. Demund couldn’t run this quickly anymore. Their exercise would be reduced.
And yet.
She looked forward to it.
She kept smiling. Her smile wouldn’t subside. She just felt so—
Glad?
Happy?
She didn’t know. She just smiled.
She knew that the Demund she relished was still alive.