At Cynthia’s request, I reluctantly left the comfort of my infirmary bed and followed her out of the room. She led me back to the front of my dressing room.

“Right through here.”

She opened the door, and it was pitch black inside.

“Why are the lights off?” I asked.

“Just go inside already.” She stepped inside and disappeared into the darkness.

I shrugged and followed her into the room. The door shut behind me and the lights flicked on.

“Surprise!”

My parents, Mizuki, and Eva were all gathered around a table in the middle of the room, which was now filled with balloons.

Could it be…?

I gasped when I saw a pack of plastic spoons and an unopened box of chocolate flavored pudding cups making eyes at me on the table.

Cynthia smirked. “I wanted to do something special for you for winning the first round of the gauntlet. I would have liked it to be more spectacular, but, frankly, this was all unexpected and on short notice.”

I stepped closer to the table, marveling at the sight of the box of pudding. My eyes had to be glistening.

All at once, my mother, father, Mizuki, and Eva all began to clap in unison. One by one, each of them gave me a warm, “congratulations!”

I couldn’t help but smile bashfully.

“Thank you all.”

“I know it isn’t much, but…” Cynthia trailed off.

“It’s just what I needed,” I assured her.

Everyone gathered around me.

“We’re so unbelievably proud of you, son,” dad said.

“Proud isn’t the word,” mom clarified. “There isn’t a word powerful enough to describe how amazing what you accomplished is, Shinsuke.”

Mizuki nodded and added, “You deserve this, so please celebrate your hard work with us.”

“Thank you…”

Eva was brimming with elation. She slapped my back playfully and shoved me towards the table. “What are you waiting for? Crack one open!”

I looked back at her and our eyes met. Both of us flinched, but she laughed it off with a timid chuckle and quickly averted her gaze.

I suspected that we were having similar thoughts, but I followed her lead in laughing it off. That weird sensation plagued my cheeks again, and I figured that filling them with pudding would be a good cure for the pesky tingling.

I popped the box open at last, and everyone claimed a cup of pudding for themselves. My parents handed out plastic spoons for everyone as I took a moment to look around the room.

What has my life turned into? I wondered.

It wasn’t that long ago that I had been living a completely unremarkable life. But that all felt like millions of years ago now.

Somehow, I had become a catalyst for change—a reluctant part of history in the making. No matter what the outcome of the gauntlet would be, the world would assuredly look very different on the other side.

I realized that at the start of it all, despite thinking I understood, I didn’t truly understand when Cynthia spoke of political ramifications in our situation. But now that I was attending my own victory celebration, it dawned on me that it was my hands that had ensured Emil would never be the future prince or king of Steylia.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

When all was said and done, future history books would have a section talking all about how stupid me saved Cynthia from a burning car and bumbled my way through a gauntlet that, ultimately, decided the kind of society those future students of history would live in.

The contract that bound me and Cynthia together had made us both feel powerless, but with one victory, the narrative had shifted. The power to decide Cynthia’s fate was ripped from the hands of her parents and would hopefully be returned to the only person who should have had that power to begin with: the princess herself.

By the end of it all, Cynthia’s desire to enact change in Steylia by rejecting the rigid ways of the past could possibly come to fruition. And if it did, it would ironically come by way of a dusty document that was ages out of date, being upheld by her parents who willingly chained themselves to that past at the expense of any free thoughts of their own.

How appropriately stupid.

I doubt even the craziest minds could dream up such a ridiculous scenario.

“Mmm…”

I watched everyone dig into their pudding, taking small spoonful’s, smiling, and chatting excitedly among one another. I had never been part of such a moment before. It was like the end of a movie. Seeing them all so happy practically stapled a grin to my face.

Even though my mind threatened to break every time I thought about how abruptly everything had changed for me, I began to think that the misery might be worth it for more scenes like the one I was experiencing.

I had spent so much time yearning for the peace I had before I saved Cynthia. But how long could that peace have realistically lasted?

The thought made my heart drop and took my smile with it.

What if my life had stayed exactly the same? What if I didn’t win the gauntlet?

Easy.

Cynthia would be trapped in a loveless marriage that would alter the course of the world. It wouldn’t matter if that course was better or worse because she would be miserable for the rest of her life.

My parents barely made ends meet. Unless I found some way to get rich, there was little hope that I could get them out of that cramped apartment no matter what I did with my life after graduating. They would probably stay in that hole in the wall for the rest of their lives.

Mizuki did everything for her dad after her mother left them. Without her, he was hopeless. Aside from me, he was all she had, and she loved him very much. She would stay by his side in that apartment until he died. I had no doubt about that.

Eva would be forced into her contracted military service. Fifteen years of her life down the drain, just like that. There would be no telling if she would truly be allowed to leave the Steylian Royal Army when the time came. And even if she was permitted, how likely was it that her dream of opening a bakery could survive such a long time of being resigned to a fate she never wanted in the first place? She had already admitted having hope for the future was difficult for her.

Those were the facts. And there was one more, too.

My life wasn’t peaceful before. I wasn’t happy.

I’ve never been happy.

The words triggered something in me.

That cloudy memory from childhood returned—the one in which I’m playing with a toy, laughing until it seems the world stops spinning. I’d lost my smile back then too, when I realized that life wasn’t fun at all. But I now realized that I was wrong about everything. As I watched my friends and family laugh and smile, I understood that life could be fun. I understood that I could be happy.

The clouds in that memory dispersed, and I now saw why the world stopped spinning for me.

The reality was that on that day, I was having too much fun. I loved my parents; I loved seeing them smile. But I realized it couldn’t last. I realized it every time I watched my mother disparage her own artistic gift because it didn’t pay enough. I realized it every time I asked for things we couldn’t afford, and my father would cry seeing the look in my eyes.

I gave up on happiness that day because I knew I was living in the eye of a storm, and the minute that simple pleasures couldn’t hold the winds at bay any longer, the foundations that made my life worth living would crumble.

I could never pretend to be content with a fleeting happiness that could only prevail if I had to distract myself from the truth. Meeting Mizuki and watching her fall into the same darkness only reinforced my feelings.

But I can fight for true happiness.

As much as I loathed the gauntlet I was now forced to take part in, it had brought me the opportunity to achieve something real and lifelong for myself and the people I cared about.

I smiled again, despite the anxiety and dread gnawing at me. Because I had a new motivation.

Me and apathy could never divorce. But I began to think that there might be a future where everyone could be happy for as long as our hearts would beat.

A future worth fighting for.

And even though I knew the next day would bring yet another helping of unwelcome insanity, I shut my brain off and did as Mizuki said: I celebrated myself.

Because I wanted that moment where everyone was smiling and laughing to be more than fleeting.

Cynthia noticed I still hadn’t opened my pudding cup. She took it from me, cracked the seal, and handed it back to me. “Go on. Take a bite.”

I nodded and submerged the plastic spoon into the chocolatey pool in my hand. I lifted it into my mouth, and, at long last, got a taste of my favorite treat.

“Mmm…”

Finally.

Victory had never tasted sweeter.