Very well.

Now that we have been able to observe the beginning of the meeting together, I would say that we can move to a place more suitable for the psychological complexity of these wonderful subjects; namely, the well-built latrine of the Academy's Recruits. The section for men, to be precise, the most spacious one, less used for liquid needs and, little by little, increasingly less clean.

Unfortunately, some people loved to mark their territory even in frontier places like these. Damn barbarians... thought the man who had just balanced himself on the toilet. Actually, it was almost traumatic for him, used to much, much better than this.

However, surrounded by his wooden-walled cubicle, already dark by nature, he gradually found a certain inner peace. His escape had begun in the early hours of the morning and had forced him to spin throughout the Academy in search of an excuse to appear busy, at least until his stomach had stabbed him in the back due to tension.

That was how, for better or for worse, a certain joker named Maurizio Guido had ended up in the student bathrooms. A tragic story, to say the least, full of belly laughs and scenes that, by distracting us at opportune moments, would even protect us from annoying noises or smells. A bit like what was happening now thanks to my continuous chatting about nothing.

In any case, even after partially relieving himself, he couldn't even loosen up a bit. Despite looking around to pass the time, the poor man's mind became irritated by constantly thinking and rethinking the same damn things..

Did I do the right thing by not going? Were there any problems? Will Diego call me to his office later to complain or will he turn a blind eye? Oh God, I don't want to think about it anymore...

He continued steadfastly to rub salt on his wounds, as every good coward always ended up doing. But, to be completely honest, the soft and lazy Guido shouldn't have even been in his position from the beginning. Even he was aware of it. In fact, he probably realized it even more than others.

Where did I go wrong? What did I do wrong? Was it that time, right? Was it my former boss who screwed me over, right? He began to reflect, trying to shift the blame onto someone else, finding, at the borders of his loud mouth and short hands, a specific moment in his life to vent.

We're talking about... a century and some years, maybe. Maybe a little less, even Guido had no idea. It happened a long time ago, that much he was sure of. Anyway, at the time, he had barely managed to finish the Academy. By a miracle, he had become the subordinate of the previous third-in-command of the organization and, some time later, even his assistant.

How did he do it? Ah... Dancing while drunk was always among his meager talents as a soldier. Maybe that's what impressed them. Or perhaps it was a unique surname like 'Guido' that helped him get ahead. Either one could be the reason.

If I hadn't volunteered for that study trip... Those damned people must have put a curse on me, I'm sure of it! But what could I have done... If I had stayed, I would have had to get married... I want to remain free, not start a family. After all, I don't have any name to carry on, and the excuse of needing time for my research has always silenced my parents. Plus, I'm not obligated to share my work with my family... What a wonderful excuse.

He thought to himself, almost patting himself on the back to celebrate his own genius. But when he collided with reality once again, even his foolish grin faded quickly. Ironically, a life of successes and strokes of luck had left him bitter.

Not that he had no desires of his own, but his shoulders had always been too narrow to bear any responsibilities. His only true luck was that things rarely changed within the Academy, and problems usually didn't even touch him. Of course, not counting the huge mess that had been made of today's meeting, from which he was seeking refuge.

I wonder what my old boss would say about me. He returned to ponder, almost able to see the face of that old fossil in front of him once he closed his eyes. He was a kind and honest man. He said to himself, trying not to laugh. "But what the fuck am I saying? That one was also a bear," he concluded, then opening his mouth for the first time for something that wasn't a monkey noise.

The inflexibility of that person had marked him like a whip. Another reason that filled Guido's appointment to his current position with a halo of mystery that was no laughing matter. Thinking back... He began to reflect again, mentally retracing his steps. The only time I saw him behave like a normal person was during that damn research trip while talking to that other disturbing Old One... Ah, I don't want to think about it, I don't want to think about it anymore...

Poor soul, just remembering it made him feel the muscles in his body tense up. It was a bad vision, for sure. Time had certainly done its part, erasing and blurring those memories, but that worn dark suit covering the whitish bony arms... Just like the face carved to the point of making the skin look like a kind of tasteless mosaic, they had remained impressed without too many problems

Despite the bad impression, it must be said that the strange Old Man had proven to be a delightful person upon reflection. He had spoken to him as an equal from beginning to end, even though the others treated him with all possible honors. He had even given him one or two pieces of advice on his research and about Cultivation in general.

In short, if it had not been for the unnatural string of good luck and perfect opportunities that Guido had encountered from that moment on, that meeting would probably have remained a pleasant memory.

However, the request from his latrine neighbor distracted him from his mental musings. "Do you have any toilet paper? They were so kind as to leave the poop on the brush without even cleaning it with water. And cleaning myself with someone else's dried poop doesn't really appeal to me," came the loud and shrill voice, a sign that his toilet companion was still in his prime.

Guido had a moment of indecision, not wanting to use the toilet brush immediately after someone else. However, leaving someone else in an unpleasant situation made him feel guilty. So, reluctantly, he made sure that the brush from his stall poked out from the other side.

"Oh, thank you dear! Thank goodness there was someone else in this restroom. It would have been traumatic otherwise, even for me," the young, smooth-tongued boy thanked him, then asked: "I heard you sighing more than once while you were defecating. Was it tough or are you having problems?" and amiably discussing with the wall to his right as if it were a normal thing to do.

Poor Guido didn't quite know what to say, feeling blocked by embarrassment. The idea of talking to another person about his private affairs had never appealed to him, especially when a young or very young person was receiving that information. For this reason, at least for the first few seconds, the man didn't even respond, finding comfort in his stomachache. However, after a second invitation from the stranger to chat, he started to look around.

Certainly, the smell wasn't the best, nor was the cleanliness of the walls or the floor. However... well, the wooden stall covered him almost entirely, leaving only a negligible part of his legs visible. It was like being in an anonymous and private place, similar to a confessional. Or, at least, that's how his mind, tired of chatting, began to perceive the situation.

Finally, disguising his voice as best he could, he said to his young toilet companion: "I'm going through a tough time. I don't... I don't really know what I should do right now," closing his greeting with a resigned-sounding sigh, similar, if you will, to that of a bird with broken wings. A particularly unfit bird, at that.

Completely ignoring the matter, the young man replied almost immediately, "I can understand, I can understand. There are moments in life when even pushing to the limit doesn't accomplish anything. Look at us now, how long have we been here on the toilet and we still haven't finished the job?"

The last sentence in particular made dear Guido chuckle, as he quickly grasped the distasteful parallelism. Then he blurted out, "But didn't you also ask me for the brush? Didn't you already close up shop?", sensing with less force since he had entered the burning sensation in his stomach.

"I thought so," the other said again, cursing the heavens between one sentence and another. "Instead, as soon as I got up, I had to sit back down. I didn't even have time to clean up. You can imagine." The boy added even more, amused by the conversation behind closed doors, feeling, in some low-level way that I don't even feel like describing, a certain sense of camaraderie with the person on the other side of the wall.

He too seemed to have his own problems to deal with, and unlike others, he seemed to be one of those who judged flying too high as undesirable. Or at least that's what the boy gleaned from the tone of the conversation so far.

Guido too had an inexplicable impression of his temporary adventure companion. After all, not having had many opportunities to express his opinion without offending anyone, given his position, he almost wished to let himself go. However, speaking freely scared him a lot, another reason why he had always avoided discussions with his parents..

However, as the man pondered over the advantages and losses with a bowed head, to his surprise, the boy spoke up again: "Have you ever thought that you might just be continuing out of inertia? And I'm not just talking about what we're doing now. Even here, I'm starting to think I'm doing the same thing, since nothing is coming out of it," he asked the first question in a tone that was already endearing. One of those tones that usually came from a relaxed soul and, probably, a smile free of great thoughts.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

In response, apart from a brief chuckle, Guido remained silent. He let a handful of seconds pass in which, every now and then, a small thud could be heard. "Well... I..." he said some time later, feeling more and more inclined to continue as the words came out of his mouth, using, as any good four-bit scammer had to learn to do, the excuse of wanting to guide a recruit of the younger generation in the right direction.

So, hiding part of his face behind his palm for no real reason, he slowly returned to say, "Isn't that what everyone does a little bit? If we stopped to think every day, we would all go crazy. For one reason or another, in the end, anyone has, or has had in the past, people who have given them directions on where to go or what to do. But I can't tell you if that's a good thing or not... ha ha ha," he said, trying to remain as composed as possible, but concluding, once he himself could no longer believe in his own words, with a brief ironic laugh.

The boy listened to him without interrupting, but was caught off guard by a strange croak towards the end. A detail that stuck with him, causing a sort of spontaneous sympathy. "I wouldn't mind that approach," he began to say in response, shaking his head slightly as he inhaled for the next sentence.

“But don't you think there's a limit to the time you can waste not asking yourself questions and always staying in the same place? I once knew a little person... Oh, it's not meant as an insult. I call him that because he came up to my knees. Anyway, I still remember the words of that damn guy. He had taken them so badly, so much so that he was more dead than alive. Yet, he looked at me with the same look devoid of any doubt... How the hell did he really do it, I don't know. Not even now.” Taking a moment to fill his lungs, not caring at all about the toxicity of the air. Then, he whispered: “I wonder what his eyes saw in that moment,” so quietly that Guido could barely hear him.

The man understood, at least in part, the emotions of the other. He too, incredible but true, had to participate in some clashes and even in a war. A small provincial war, actually, but for him it was already a trauma. At the time, even some of his comrades-in-arms had ended up as nameless bodies because of this or that motivation; and, although for him it was a bit like spitting on the plate offered, having the awareness of knowing that they had come back on their own legs when others had only left in pieces... Well, surely as an experience it left its mark.

With those kind of thoughts in mind, he hypothesized that something similar had also happened to his young toilet friend. Actually. He reflected without saying anything on the spot. From the point of view of those who remain alive, doing nothing is not very different from wasting time. Of course... Of course, looking at it that way, then couldn't it be said that he had been the first to waste time since after graduation? Ah, now the heartburn is really coming back. Fuck.

He inadvertently became depressed, doing it all by himself. Trying to save the situation, his first, he offered some words of encouragement, hoping, in his heart, that the other would echo him once it was over. “Everyone has their own life to think about. We can't hope to understand what's going on in other people's minds. Your friend's eyes saw something that you still can't explain, but that doesn't mean your experiences are worth any less than his. You're still young and in the future, you'll meet many other different people. Maybe without even realizing it, one day you'll find an answer that will give you satisfaction. Life is still long!” Emphasizing the conclusion as a musician might do to give more depth to their performance.

From the other booth, however, they quickly heard some tasteful laughter. The boy, overturning Guido's expectations, had perhaps seen beyond the veil of bullshit. At least that's what the man imagined, before hearing his young friend's response at least.

"Young is a big word. Really big," the boy said, coming too close for comfort. He coughed his lungs out for a moment to recover oxygen and calm down. Then he added, "From what I know, I've already met enough people over time. Some crazier or more idealistic than others. Most, to be blunt, have already died for one cause or another. So I would say I've gained quite a bit of experience in this matter," he continued between one sentence and the next with such ease, involving Guido to the point of even forgetting to notice how adolescent his voice still sounded.

"In reality, I think I know what his eyes saw that day," the boy continued, scratching his head with the only free hand he had. "I don't really feel like saying it out loud, though, otherwise it would seem like I'm doing him wrong. Actually, I think I would be doing a disservice to quite a few people. At the same time, however... well, maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to do something like that. At least I could take responsibility for their actions, rather than just offering a vague idea of free will."

Maurizio didn't understand what the boy had started talking about all of a sudden. Although theoretically the adult in the room, he really didn't understand anything. Abstract concepts and hypothetical discussions about serious matters were not his best. Just rebelling against the pressures of his own parents through a loophole generated a certain level of stress for him, let alone thinking about complex matters related to the human soul and desire.

However, helped in the endeavor by anonymity and poorly earned pride, Maurizio pushed aside his doubts with a cough before responding: "Don't you think it's up to others to take responsibility for what happens in their lives? We're not gods, we can't live for others. Can you imagine what kind of torment a life like that would be for normal people?" He reused part of an old speech his previous boss had made in his presence. All with such fury and determination as to make him even believe, at his venerable age of about two hundred and something years, that he had discovered a talent for acting that he had never tapped into before, since he had never needed it.

In response, the boy laughed heartily and said, "Actually, it's not that great of a life, but you have to make do with what you have," surprising the poor Maurizio who thought he had finally said something profound and worthy of his social position. Before he could come up with any other bullshit to impress a perfect stranger who was theoretically much younger than him, the boy next to the latrine slowly stopped chuckling.

"Everything considered, the biggest problem right now is not realizing my position, but rather not having the slightest desire to do anything from dusk till dawn. There are some information I would like to know and a handful of people I would like to see, but it still feels a bit..." He suddenly stopped his tongue from saying anything else.

Despite having no idea who his companion was, the boy quickly abandoned the idea of talking about something that an individual couldn't understand. In fact, even among the people who remained loyal to him, there was no one who could give him any suggestions on the matter. A realization that, reluctantly, led him to mutter to himself an old phrase that had been repeated to him until he was sick of it: "Not even the heavens could know such a thing..." Before adding, in the same muted tone of voice, "Well, they weren't entirely wrong. What do you say, Old Man?"

"O-Old Man?" Maurizio felt a little offended. Do I sound like an old man when I speak? Or is it a new way that kids have of talking to older people? It must be that... I don't want to be old already! I'm still young!

For the record, I have never suggested that Mr. Maurizio was an intelligent individual, and if I had done so previously, then I apologize. That being said, the boy next door didn't give him time to demonstrate his wounded princess demeanor, telling him, "Huh? No, no, I was just talking to myself. Don't worry, don't worry," while shooing away the flies with his hand before returning to grin like an idiot.

The explanation seemed like nothing but an excuse in his companion's ears. Eager to appear bigger than he actually was, Maurizio sewed his mouth shut to avoid answering back. It must be the way young people talk nowadays... Yes, he repeated silently a couple of times to make the task easier. Although, due to his rampant ignorance, some residual annoyance still refused to go away.

It would have been funny if the boy knew all these nonsense, as they would have cheered him up. After all, at least a long time ago, the term "old" was often used within the long Coa continent as a sort of common nickname. A kind of way to call each other in friendship or, as many did, it could be used to address a person whose name was not known or had been forgotten without causing any embarrassment.

That being said, and disregarding the dead and buried customs of long Coa, finally the boy hunched over on the latrine seemed to make a decision. "Maybe it's not even worth wasting all this time thinking about it," he said, then raised his head and took a breath that, a little bit, caused him a sense of disgust.

Maurizio was intrigued by those words and turned his head as if to try to look him in the face. Compared to earlier, the boy's youthful voice was not accompanied by a sarcastic or light tone, nor by an idiotic laugh. On the contrary, although hidden by the brevity of the sentence, that way of expressing himself seemed loaded with the genuine resignation that distinguished employees with a terrible boss from their luckier colleagues.

A quiet lament that ignited a certain sense of camaraderie within the lazy man's soul that ran to hide from his responsibilities, as well as a worse annoyance than before. All the while, without much care to leave time for Maurizio to respond, the boy continued to talk as much as he pleased.

"To say that it's okay with me would be a blasphemy, but I'll mind my own business and take it one day at a time. Trying to have it both ways will do anything but make me walk straight, and if I have to limp, I'd rather it be because of the tavern. Otherwise, what's the point of life?"

Having concluded his speech to the weak-stomached people, he did everything an individual in the latrine should do before getting up, saying goodbye, and going on his way with a simple: "It was a nice chat. Let's do it again next time if we happen to have stomach problems at the same time."

Maurizio, poor guy, was alone with his thoughts again. The company of his young friend was no longer there, and it almost made him sad. He hadn't had time to ask him more questions to understand exactly what his problem was, but if he had to guess... it must be guilt and fear of having to bear responsibilities! He was projecting onto the indistinct and not well-identified figure of his new friend the same fears that he had been carrying around for years, as if they were tied to his ankles. All by pure coincidence, of course.

"No! No! This is not right! A person so young cannot have these kinds of thoughts! I don't even make all these melodramas in my head, let alone a boy!" he continued to say, shamelessly lying. But let's move on, or we'll be here all night.

"People his age should be jumping over ditches for fun!" he continued, trying to quote a saying that was still circulating when he was in his thirties, but having to adapt it since the original used words from a very ancient language that Maurizio had never been able to remember properly.

Although he didn't want to admit it openly, and instead preferred his fantasies, the fact that someone who hadn't even lived a tenth of his life had somehow made peace with his brain to temporarily continue with his life burned fiercely in his chest. How was such a thing possible? Useless or not; recommended or not; even damn lucky or not; he remained the fucking third in command of the entire Asparetto Academy.

Could he really let himself be screwed over by some random kid?

Of course not, are you kidding?

This wave of... well, let's call it courage, cured his stomach and finally stopped his buttocks, charging him with such energy that he was able to ignore the fact that his toilet companion had not returned the brush to him. No matter; he managed to improvise in other ways that I don't want to describe, allowing him to stand up tall and walk out of the latrine with a renewed desire not to be inferior to some little shit.

What he did next left assistants and supervisors stunned, making him the subject of gossip for weeks. It's just a shame that one of them was also on his, alleged, bad personal list; but I challenge anyone to give him importance knowing the subject in question.