The cold, crisp air of November made the repulsive smell of the city’s pollution a little more bearable. Though it was quite a low bar to compete with, for Jen, it made a world of difference as she ran along the sidewalk. Startled bystanders sidestepped out of her way, looking back at the rushed woman in confusion. Homeless people were rudely awakened by the sound of boots hurrying across the pavement right next to their heads. To think that she could run after being ill for so long was quite evocative, but sadly, she had no time to relish that feeling.
There was no time…
Why was she running? Perhaps she had some business to attend to? No, that couldn’t be right—Jen was a stay-at-home mom. Was she running away from something? A monster, perhaps? No, then the crowd would be panicked alongside her. What could possibly be the cause for such urgency?
In truth, Jen couldn’t answer that simple question for most people. Most didn’t mean all, though. Some individuals knew, and maybe even more than she did. Yet, she was reluctant to talk to them because of that fact. It seemed like a lose-lose situation in her head, but here she was, running to those very individuals. She had to—there was no other choice.
Jen hadn’t expected this predicament, even though the thought had crossed her mind countless times. Perhaps it was wishful thinking that Sen wouldn’t notice it. He knew from that day something wasn’t right. That child was far too smart to be fooled by someone like her...
But what else could I have done? It’s not like I did it to deceive him. It was to protect him...
Her running slowly came to a halt as she stared down at her soft white winter jacket, lost in thought. The city's loud ruckus and the voices of pedestrians began to fade away until it was just her and her mind. To protect him. From whom? she asked herself. The answer to that question had been apparent to Jen since that day.
A chilly shiver, far colder than the air, ran along her spine as she brushed that thought off as best as she could, reminding herself of one major thing. “That wasn’t my son…” she whispered, taking another step before running again, “that was a monster.”
Jen walked through a gate, revealing a brown building looming above. It wasn’t very big or fancy; just a simple, rectangular, modest house, typical in large cities. Stalking up the entry steps to the front door, there was a moment of hesitancy right before her finger could touch the doorbell. She hadn’t been at this house in years, not because she couldn’t, but because she didn’t have the courage to face them.
How would they react if she suddenly asked for help? Would they consider it? Shun her away? Mock her? Her finger never touched the doorbell’s button…
But somehow, the door creaked open, revealing a silhouette of a person Jen hadn’t talked to in years. Her heart skipped a beat as their eyes locked, both equally shocked to see each other. She wasn’t prepared to face her just yet, but now it was too late to turn back.
A lady with short dark scarlet hair and deep blue eyes had answered the door. Her simplistic home garments seemed snug on her relatively robust features, but she maintained a petite figure.
“Rin, I—” Before Jen could say anything else, the door was shut in front of her face, leaving her wordlessly staring at a brown plank of wood, a wave of regret and shame falling upon her. I knew it, Jen gritted her teeth. I should have never come here. Not after what Yami did.
Jen knew she had no part in it; she had never done anything wrong, but yet it was her responsibility. It was shameful to acknowledge that her very own husband had tried to turn their son into a monster. And now she had been lying to Sen for years that his father was dead. How could she possibly face Rin after that?
Sighing, Jen turned her back on the door, taking a few steps down. Then, the hinges creaked once more.
“Jen, is that really you?” Rin finally asked, her tone soft and oddly friendly. Jen froze, not knowing if she should turn around. “Sorry for shutting the door on you; I was just…” Rin tried searching for the right words. “Surprised, that’s all.”
Jen spun her head, locking eyes with her. What could she say? What should she say? Rin didn’t seem angry at all. Why was that? No matter how hard she tried, Jen couldn’t utter a sentence, even if her life depended on it. However, the lost look in her eyes and trembling mouth told Rin everything she needed to know. Rin gave a small sympathetic smile. “Come in, have some tea. It’s cold out.”
#
The house was cozy. A blanket enveloped Jen’s back, and her hands grasped a warm cup of chamomile tea, relishing its warmth. It felt nice after running through the cold city streets. A slight burning sensation struck her cheeks from the sudden temperature difference caused by exposure to the frigid wind. But it wasn’t just the warmth that made it comforting. Soft orange lights were stationed across the room, along with the older style of furniture, which wasn’t standard today.
Most households felt bleak and cold, almost depressing. Perhaps that contributed to the growth of suicides and anxiety; it was common knowledge that the atmosphere could affect a person’s mind. Of course, Jen had made sure that her own harbored a pleasant environment, but it was still uncommon to see it.
Looking more closely, Jen noticed a dozen physically framed pictures of Rin’s family placed on a console table, which was more than abnormal. Nobody used real pictures anymore. It was usually a framed screen where someone could input any image they captured on their phone. Even Jen hadn’t owned any since she was a kid. It was quite a sad realization, but it was just the common evolution of technology. Soon, what they thought to be advanced would be recalled as a relic in the near future.
“Y-you… have quite a cozy house,” Jen finally broke the silence. Sitting on the opposite side of the coffee table, Rin sat calmly, drinking her tea. Her old friend gave her a downcast smile, almost as if she were reminiscing.
“Thank you. It was more or less a gradual change,” Rin’s grip on the mug tightened. “I wanted Asashi to feel a bit more at home here. You know, since his work can be… quite taxing on his mental health.”
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Jen suddenly understood Rin’s mood change. That topic was something they both knew far too well, and just thinking about it sent her through an abyss of suppressed memories.
“He’s still working for the AOK?” Jen asked. “After all that?” To find someone willing to continue their career as a Knight after the world war was second to none—those who’d lived through the battlefield, at least. High-ranking officials who worked behind the scenes were more than happy to continue their privileged job, not understanding the true struggle soldiers had to endure during those dark times.
“Unfortunately,” Rin sighed as she set her cup on the coffee table. “I keep telling him he should quit. But in the end, he always ignores me. He has this sick interpretation of amends, like he has to go through more pain to make up for what he did. It's plain stupid.” Her words were bitter, but they came from a place of concern. Jen had felt the same way Rin did, but in all honesty, she would pay a million dollars to feel that worry again. Those old problems. Those old arguments with her husband. Those old struggles in raising their first daughter. They were something she looked back on warmly now that she wouldn't be able to experience them anymore.
It’s funny how time works, Jen thought. It can make someone look back fondly at the most troubling times, because although they’re upsetting, something far worse could be on the horizon that humbles you, leading to a longing for what you used to have–what you used to feel.
“I understand that feeling,” Jen said quietly, reminiscing. “Yami had the same struggles, but he never liked to acknowledge them. I guess that’s one of the many reasons he went mad. I just wish I could…” Her words trailed off, and there were no signs of them returning. A shadow fell across Rin’s gaze, knowing fully what Jen wanted to say.
“Sorry,” Jen cleared her throat and attempted to form a smile. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
There was an awkward silence between them, but it was comforting in an odd way. The silence spoke louder than any words Jen could muster at that moment.
“You know, I’m glad you came here,” Rin suddenly said as Jen raised her head, blinking in confusion.
“…Why?”
Rin’s expression softened as she smiled. “I don’t speak for Asashi, but I never once viewed you in a bad light. It wasn’t your fault.”
Jen felt more ashamed than relieved. Suddenly, she felt guilty, as if she had gotten herself into this position. Instead of asking for help or simply talking about it, she was too afraid to confront what had happened. I’m the reason why we haven’t spoken in years. Rin would reach out, but every time, it wouldn’t be more than a simple hello. After a while, I convinced myself that it would be best if we cut ties. It was never her fault. I’m the problem.
“That’s why I always wanted our daughter and your son to remain friends, even after Yami betrayed us,” Rin explained. “But it was difficult. Asashi, he’s… very cautious about that boy, so I understand why you kept your distance all this time. In truth, I think Asashi is afraid of your son, and it’s not your fault at all.”
“He’s right to be.”
Rin blinked, confused. “What do you mean?”
Jen's heart began to beat faster, and her breathing grew hasty and jagged. The more the thought became vivid in her mind, the more her hands couldn’t stop shuddering. Jen didn’t want to remember that petrifying memory; she refused to believe that it was real. She refused to believe that was her son. But the more time passed, the more she couldn’t ignore how Sen grew colder and more ominous. She was scared of her own son, and that realization disgusted her.
“My son… there—there’s something wrong with him.”
“What do you mean? Is he sick?” Rin tilted her head.
“No…” Jen shuddered. “It's far worse. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I kept it from you guys, but I was worried that something bad would happen to him if Asashi found out.”
“You don’t mean.” Rin’s expression turned dark and motionless, her eyes wide. It was apparent she had pieced together what her friend had hinted. Jen nodded, feeling her throat turn dry with anxiety.
“I believe my husband’s experiment was successful…”
…
Rin wasn’t sure how to process the information. At first, she was speechless. Then, she paused to gather her thoughts, and finally let out a large, defeated sigh. “This is bad.”
“I know!” Jen panicked. “That’s exactly why I came here!”
Rin raised her brow. “I’m guessing something happened—for you to suddenly rush here out of all days.”
She was observant, and at the moment, Jen knew that any more lies would just dig her into a deeper hole. However, lies weren’t required in this case because she was certain Asashi had already found out. But his silence was what scared her.
“I believe that… Sen is trying to enroll in the academy,” Jen admitted.
Rin paused again, blinking. “Somehow, it keeps getting worse.”
“You’re not making this easy, Rin!” Jen groaned. “Oh dear, it’s all my fault! He's just trying to enter to get information on his father.”
“Wait, just a second,” Rin’s head was swirling. “How the hell does he know his father had connections to the AOK?”
Jen couldn’t handle the surge of emotions at once. Her Sense unlocked as the familiar feeling of strength poured into her muscles and nerves. She wanted to hit something, really badly. No, not here. She couldn't just suddenly start breaking things right after finally meeting her friend after years. Clenching her fists, Jen reached for her hot tea and took a big gulp, burning her tongue. That slight pain knocked her out of the panic, and she somewhat regained control. Sighing in relief, the light in her eyes flickered away.
“Please don’t break anything in the house,” Rin begged, almost jokingly. “It cost a lot.”
“I’ll try not to,” Jen said. “But no promises.”
They stared at each other, not breaking eye contact, then couldn’t help but give a small, suppressed laugh. Although she panicked moments ago, being with her friend felt reassuring, like she had someone else to share her problems with. And that light-hearted joke, although inappropriate for the situation, made her laugh at the irony. Jen couldn’t remember the last time she laughed. Perhaps it had been stolen by her husband. But no matter how many times a smile would be taken away, a new one would always appear. She had forgotten that.
Once the laughter died down, Rin sighed and wiped the tears from her eyes. “I miss this.”
Jen nodded. “Me too.” Then, that smile suddenly vanished. “We would have had this a lot sooner if I just hadn’t—”
“Jen…” Rin cut her off as she firmly glared at her. “What’s done is done; we can't change the past, so it’s useless to dwell on it. If my daughter turned out to be an active vessel for a monster, I would be afraid to let anyone know, too. Who knows what kind of vile experiments they would have him undergo.”
Jen gradually nodded. It was true; if she had told Asashi or the AOK about Sen, they would have undoubtedly taken him away and conducted tests on him. And regardless of how afraid she was of her child, she couldn’t bear losing him. She loved him, and no amount of fear would change that because she knew, deep down, that the real Sen was somewhere inside him.
“More importantly, you said something’s wrong with Sen?” Rin asked. Her friend thoughtfully leaned over the table to embrace her hand. “Tell me what it is. What’s happened?”
Jen couldn’t muster up a response. It almost felt like she suddenly lost the ability to speak. The moment she said the true reason, what would happen?... What would happen to Sen?
It was too late.
Rin was aware that Sen was an active vessel, and now that he was entering the exam, it wouldn’t be too long before Asashi knew as well. What if I’m wrong, though? What if that was just a freak accident? she asked herself. However, her common sense instantly refuted that. Sen’s gaze grew colder and colder as the years went by, and his malevolent presence became ever so noticeable. Jen couldn’t deny what had happened anymore. She had already done that for years.
“It happened two days after I lied to my children,” Jen remembered. “The day Sen tried to kill me.”