Realization

  Chapter word count: 2309

  The hospital loomed behind them, modest and unassuming, barely two stories tall—or so Airot guessed.

  Its width was equally unremarkable, but the strange tan lines sprawling chaotically across its surface caught his eye. They resembled strands of thread tossed carelessly over a canvas, overlapping without discernible pattern.

  Airot pulled out his tuallet and asked, “So, does this gauge tell how full my tuallet is?”

  Haruku gave a curt nod. “Yeah.”

  “Then… is this empty?” he lifted it to Haruku’s face.

  Haruku squinted at it. “Yeah. Close to it, at least.”

  “Okay… was it like this when you gave it to me?”

  Haruku glanced away, his tone shifting. “You’re staying near the library, right?”

  Airot sighed. “I see. So you used my water to pay.”

  Haruku’s body shifted further from him, his focus now elsewhere. “Around where I first picked you up, right?”

  “How far are we?”

  “A district and a half away.”

  “...And how far is that?”

  “Dunno. Far.”

  Airot let out a defeated breath, and before long, Haruku hoisted him onto his back.

  “Just… be smooth,” Airot muttered as he climbed on, wincing slightly. “It still hurts when I move.”

  “No worries. I run up hills like butter glides. Flat ground’s a breeze.”

  With that, Haruku took off, veering around the corner.

  The hospital’s modest facade betrayed its surprising length; it stretched the span of an entire street, the tan lines wrapping haphazardly around it like yarn ensnaring a massive bundle.

  Unsurprisingly, Haruku quickly passed the hospital entirely, even with its notable length, his pace relentless.

  Suddenly, a screen flickered into view ahead of them, hovering in mid-air—white numbers centered in a black box with a green background.

  The digits spun rapidly, counting upward into the thousands.

  A green glow appeared below them, centered on Haruku’s foot. One, two, three, four steps forward—each left behind a neon green square.

  On the fifth step forward, the hovering screen detached from its fixed position and floated motionless in the air. They continued forward, phasing through it as if it were a hologram.

  By the sixth step, they were on a different street.

  The transition was seamless, like another step forward. Neither the floating screen nor the green squares surrounding Haruku’s feet followed.

  The library was remarkably closer now, its distance resembling that of their first journey on the curved freeway.

  Within the next minute, they came to a halt.

  Airot dismounted, scanning the street. Though unfamiliar with the area, he used the imposing monolith straight down the street as a landmark and determined this was the road his inn was located on.

  “It’s just down the street,” Airot stepped forward.

  “Alright.”

  Leisurely walking, Airot led them while he took in his surroundings. As they neared the library, an unsettling sensation gnawed at him.

  “Hey,” he spoke out. “Isn’t the library… shorter?”

  “Hm? I didn’t notice,” Haruku replied nonchalantly.

  “Figures,” Airot muttered. “Is this another common occurrence here?”

  “I dunno.”

  “You don’t know?” Airot recoiled. “How long have you been here?”

  “Dunno. I don’t have a calendar. Must’ve been a couple years, though.”

  “Okay…” Airot sighed, exasperated but too tired to dig deeper.

  They arrived in front of Airot’s inn. He uncontrollably twitched a little as his mind flicked back to his former neighbor.

  Haruku stood silently by, allowing Airot to compose himself, but before he could open the door, it swung open by itself.

  “Are you sure this is his inn?”

  “Of course I am! I’m the one who suggested it. If he isn’t here, then he must still be at the hospital.”

  “Okay, but which hospital?”

  “Why’re you asking me? You’re the one who learnt of this!”

  Bickering on the other side of the door was a familiar white jacket and a white long-sleeved collar shirt, though the sleek, black vest that layered over it was missing.

  They came to a halt as they both blankly stared at Airot who was a step down.

  They panned to each other and seemed to communicate non-verbally before turning back to Airot, blinking.

  Elfein lifted his hand to sweep the green streaks of his forward hair back into the rest of his black hair while Lynn moved past him and toward Airot.

  “Yo…” Lynn spoke up, his tone uneasy. “Uh… you good?” his eyes swept Airot’s battered form before solidifying eye contact.

  “Yeah,” Airot replied impulsively. “Yeah…” he repeated more slowly, “...I’m good.”

  Lynn simply nodded while Elfein circled Airot, checking his condition.

  “So,” Airot ventured, breaking the tension, “what are you doing together?”

  “Well,” Lynn began, scratching the back of his neck, “Haruku mentioned you got hospitalized last night when he swung by the bar. Figured I'd check up on you since, y’know, I kinda ate up your time yesterday.”

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  “Not that he knew where you lived,” Elfein interjected, calm but teasing. “So he asked around the library, which ended up with both of us visiting your inn here.”

  Airot offered a faint, doleful smile. “I see. Thanks for your concern.”

  “It’s nothing,” Lynn softly spoke.

  Elfein eyed Airot’s outfit. “So, were you planning on sleeping in with… that outfit?”

  They all panned to look at Airot’s outfit. The ripped, worn and overused outer jacket and torn and tattered pants both had sizable blood stains. His inner shirt was dirtied and just as rugged. This was the outfit he had worn for years outside of Panceia, after all.

  Chosen for its ease of maneuverability, larger size, and durability it was a fair choice for anyone out there. However, time has definitely taken its toll, and now within the walls of Panceia, such an outfit wasn’t as vital. And for the current Airot, it felt tighter than usual.

  “Shouldn’t I rest? I used a potion, or so they said,” Airot shrugged away his question.

  “Rest later,” Elfein replied. “The potion’s probably still in effect. Better to stretch it out, make the most of it while you can.”

  Airot slowly nodded, listening along. “I am pretty tired, though.”

  “Surely you can rest after we get you a new outfit,” Elfein continued trying to persuade him.

  He put on a gentle smile at the attempt. “I think, I’ll stay in,” he walked past Elfein toward the inn’s door.

  He avoided eye contact with Lynn as he brushed past, but without getting far, Lynn lightly chuckled. “Heh, congrats on getting taller.”

  Airot froze, confused. He faced Lynn only to realize that they were eye-level now, when before he had to look slightly up at him. He hadn’t noticed with Haruku since he was still notably taller, but now verifying, he had indeed grown. Turning to Elfein, he was also similar in height.

  “Uh-huh…” Airot muttered, still processing.

  “Well then,” Elfein said, “stay safe,” he faced away, accepting Airot’s decision.

  “Yeah,” he nodded.

  Lynn shot back and forth between the two before silently nodding and stepping toward the door frame.

  Airot returned the gesture to both of them and turned to do the same for Haruku, who was silently eating an everything bar to the side.

  The sight caused Airot’s mouth to grin a little as he exhaled a little stronger than usual.

  “It might be early to say this,” Airot closed his eyes and began to smile. “But I’m glad I know you guys.”

  “Uh, yeah. No problem, man,” Lynn was taken aback.

  “We didn’t do much, though,” Elfein replied. “But if you need anything, just reach out.”

  Haruku finished chewing then shut his eyes for a bit before slowly opening them. “Yeah, it’s early. We barely know each other. It’s just basic human decency.”

  Airot nodded. “Still, thanks,” he turned away toward the stairs.

  “Yeah,” Haruku continued. “If you ever need help,” he threw an everything bar.

  Despite being turned around, Airot sensed the motion instinctively and raised his arm, catching the bar without looking. Using the already raised arm he waved absently and ascended upwards to the second floor, where his room resided, and left the three down in the lobby.

  Reaching his room, he entered it and closed the door softly behind him, the faint click echoing in the quiet. He let out a deep sigh, feeling relieved yet heavy.

  Turning to look at the everything bar he caught, he unwrapped it with slow movements. He bit into it, causing a sharp crunch that twitched his nerves as memories resurfaced.

  “Hah,” he forced a bitter chuckle. “...It looks like I won’t enjoy these going forward.”

  The everything bar tasted dull and hollow, its flavors muted—for Airot, at least.

  He headed deeper into his room while munching on, finishing the bar despite his conflicting feelings over it. Crumpling the empty wrapper, he placed it down on the small desk by the window.

  He retrieved his notepad and pen and slapped them down, returning them to where he found them. The sharp movement from the slam caused the wrapper to float away off the desk.

  It was crumpled so it should’ve dropped quickly, but for Airot it seemed to flutter at a calm pace. Yet even though he could’ve caught it mid-air, he just let it fall.

  He played on the thought of letting it litter the floor while he just rested, but the room felt too clean for even a single piece of litter.

  He exhaled, annoyed at the thought of bending down in his current state.

  ‘I should’ve caught it.’

  He groaned in annoyance at his reluctance over a simple wrapper and wished it could just rise up to him instead. A ridiculous notion, yet something compelled him to entertain it. He extended his hand, fingers curling as if to reel in an imaginary string connecting the wrapper and his hand.

  Nothing happened.

  “Obviously,” he muttered with a derisive smirk.

  Yet he didn’t stop, he felt a strong connection to the fantasy. There was a pull, something beneath reason urging him onward.

  He imagined the string tightening, shrinking into itself to bring the wrapper upward. His focus sharpened as he vividly dreamed such a reality, believing its authenticity.

  “...” he hesitated a little, but felt like he had to say something. “...Rise.”

  A flare ignited and blazed to life.

  A sparkling yellow thread suddenly became visible, delicate yet pulsating with unspoken power.

  His breath hitched as the wrapper responded to the command, lifting from the ground in a slow, deliberate ascent.

  Startled, Airot lurched his hand causing the wrapper to rapidly fling into the wall. Quick breaths escaped his lips as his eyes widened and mouth left agape.

  The wrapper bounced off the wall and was seemingly pulled toward Airot.

  Seeing it directly aim at his face, his natural instinct wanted it to halt. In that very moment, a yellow glow encapsulated the wrapper as it hovered mid-air, unbound by gravity.

  The glow felt mystical, it felt beyond logic.

  It felt kindling.

  He reached out and touched the levitating wrapper, and the light flowed into his hand, enveloping it in a golden haze, radiating brightly yet almost nonexistent. It had no form and was intangible, yet felt alive. It wasn’t warm nor cold—it simply existed, an extension of himself.

  Visually, it took over his arm, but had no effect, instead it was offering itself to be taken over.

  He clenched his fist, and the glow intensified, weightless and otherworldly.

  The golden hue swirled around him now, threading through limbs, threading through the air. It had devoured him yet was something to devour itself.

  Weightless, yet heavy.

  Invisible, yet undeniable.

  May it soar, or let it collapse, a fundamental force was held in his hands.

  “Right,” Airot said, having had a revelation within the golden veil now clinging to his body. “I understand it now.”

  He released the wrapper and willed it to flutter down onto the desk, a simple gesture achieving what moments ago had been ludicrous.

  He turned around, enduring through the strain, and threw a punch with all of his might, the motion reverberating with a power far beyond his natural limits.

  The memory of that night, when he’d heard that voice, surged into his consciousness, sharp and vivid.

  Breathing heavily, he vocalized, “The Earth’s Sin.”

  The glow condensed further, flowing fluidly like liquid light, obedient to his will.

  The air around him seemed to resonate with his presence, tethered to his intent.

  His eyes lit up and a grin grew unbidden, the rush of realization leaving not a single doubt. Subconsciously, he understood what it meant that night, but now he’s awoken to its truth.

  He slowly lowered his eyes. “I guess… it might’ve been worth it,” his gaze lingered on the blood-stained pen resting at his desk. “I’m not thanking you, though.”

  He made a swooping motion, spinning his hand upward.

  Effortlessly floating as desired, he glided toward his bed with grace. The blanket rose and wrapped around him, his body settling down without so much as a twitch.

  The glistening yellow faded, leaving an ambient stillness as his thoughts tangled into a chaotic web.

  Wearines failed to set in; he was too restless from the storm of revelations.

  He rose abruptly, the dull ache he’d felt before now subdued. The cause didn’t matter—what did was that he no longer felt like slouching away.

  His gaze shifted back to the desk, being his only belongings he’s grown a sense of attachment to them.

  Raising his hand, the yellow glow formed anew, linking the notepad and pen to his grasp. They flew into his hand, precise and swift, submissive to his whim.

  He caught them flawlessly as they were directed straight into his hand.

  He began walking to leave but didn’t forget the other thing he brought with him. With a similar motion, the crumpled wrapper zipped into his palm to be discarded properly.

  Reinvigorated by his newfound capabilities, he stepped out of his room.

  ‘Only three days in and I’ve already become a yapper. I wonder if that’s quick.’