36 Smile [2]

[Disclaimer : I felt compelled to write this after a few readers pointed this out. This chapter may contain some sensitive topics. I personally don't think it's sad, but I feel the need to put this here for those who are more sensitive.] 

Aoife felt a strange heat rise in her face as she rigidly stood with her back faced against him. It started to spread through every corner of her body. 

She felt her face was currently the same color as her hair. 

The thought made her face stiff. 

Flip—

"...." 

In the silence that took hold of the surroundings, Aoife pursed her lips. 

'This bastard... Did he just...?' 

What replaced the shame that she was feeling was another feeling. Anger. Yes, she was angry. 

Of all things...

Her fists slowly clenched, and so did her teeth. 

"Huuu..." 

Taking a deep breath, she suppressed the rage that was boiling within her. She was afraid she'd do something stupid otherwise. 

Then.... 

While still holding onto her books, she turned back to face him and headed toward the same desk he was on. 

Thud. 

And placed her books on his table. 

"...." 

He stared at her with a look that seemed to say, 'Have you lost it?' but Aoife ignored it and proceeded to sit. 

And... 

"Ba Dum~ Ta la~" 

She proceeded to sing. 

It was now his turn to flinch. Only that, Aoife felt her heart squeeze at his reaction. Her singing... It couldn't be that bad, right? 

For some reason that hurt more than she thought. 

'No, it's him.'

Yeah, it had to be. 

She was a great singer. 

"Tu lum~" 

".....What are you doing?" 

Flip—

It was her turn to ignore him. Casually looking at the book in front of her, she continued to hum. 

That was until his hand came pressing down against her book. 

She looked up. 

"What." 

"....Can you stop?" 

"Why? This is a public space." 

"I'd like to study, not lose my hearing." 

"I... you..." 

Aoife clenched her teeth while struggling to retort. She then whispered, "...It's not that bad." 

"It is. 

His fast reply felt like a hammer to Aoife who found herself unable to retort back. Rage boiled within her, but she didn't show it as she kept her face firm.

"..." 

'.....What am I even doing?'

Aoife was stumped. She wanted to leave, but couldn't. Now that she sat down, she needed to sit there for at least five minutes before leaving. 

'I was too impulsive.' 

Now, she had to pay the consequences of her actions. 

Or so she thought. 

Creaaak... 

Julien's chair scraped as he stood up. Their eyes met for a brief moment before he scanned the books and selected a few. 

"....Are you leaving?" 

Aoife felt compelled to ask. If so, then she didn't have to leave. 

But... 

"..." 

He didn't reply to her. It was as if he wasn't even listening to her. Aoife's lips opened. For the first time in a while, she was unsure of what to do. She felt a strange sense of humiliation in this entire ordeal as her face flushed a further shade of red. 

Her gaze eventually fell on one of the many books he left on the table and she didn't hesitate to take it. 

"Since that's the case, you won't mind me taking this, right?" 

Tok Tok. 

Julien's calm footsteps echoed as he headed out for the library. 

His back had always been turned on her. The utter disregard he had for her had Aoife's gears further, and just as she opened her mouth to say something again, he pointed at his ear. 

"....Can't hear." 

*** 

It may have seemed like I was exaggerating, but I genuinely was hurting in my ears. What sort of singing was that...? 

It felt as though someone was scraping a window with their nails. 

Goosebumps. 

All I felt were goosebumps. 

'It's a bit of a pity for that book that I left, but I can't focus with her here.' 

There was one book I really wanted to read but unfortunately couldn't. Mainly because it was a waste of time and I couldn't afford to waste time. 

Now then... 

To Tok—

I knocked on the familiar door. 

"Come in." 

A voice I was starting to grow familiar with answered, and I opened the door. 

"...." 

Only to stop at the entrance. 

"What?" 

I blinked. Then blinked again. Then turned around and prepared to head out.

"You don't have to clean this up. I'll do it... Later." 

I stopped dead in my tracks and turned around. Ignoring all the wrappers and papers on the floor, I headed back into the office space. 

"...." 

Delilah just stared at me with a blank look, but I ignored her. She also didn't pursue the matter and continued. 

"How many spells do you know?" 

Spells? 

I counted in my head. 

If we counted the six basic emotions, there were only two. 

"Eight."

"Eight? Hmm." 

Delilah frowned. 

"I assume six of them are the six basic emotions, correct?" 

"Yes." 

With a quiet nod, she leaned back on her chair and crossed her arms. She then proceeded to ask, 

"How far have you learned?" 

"Both beginner. I have only unlocked one." 

Hands of Malady was currently the only spell I could use at that moment. I still couldn't use the other spell. 

There were five stages to a spell. 

Unlocking, which was the integration of a circle in the mind. Only when a circle connection was established with the mind would one be able to use the spell as wanted.

It was usually the hardest part of learning a spell. 

The next five ranks were—beginner, intermediate, advanced, superior, and perfected.

".....Any intermediate?" 

"Yes. Sadness." 

Currently, only sadness was intermediate for me. 

It was the one I understood the best, and it was also the one that hurt the most.

So... 

"Try it on me." 

I felt a little reluctant when she asked me. But I understood that this was important and took a deep breath.

"Now....?" 

"Yes, I need to know the extent of your skills before helping you." 

"...." 

Briefly, I glanced at my forearm before taking my gaze away from it. 

I needed to evoke sadness. 

The wheel couldn't guarantee such emotion. And...

'I want to see how deep my powers are.'

Could they affect someone as powerful as her? 

"Huu." 

The thought boiled in my mind and I took another deep breath before closing my eyes. I let my mind sink into my thoughts. 

I was going to give it my all. Without the immersion. Without cheating. Just me, and my thoughts. 

And for me to do that... 

I needed to unseal memories I had kept hidden in my mind. 

"H-huu..." 

A certain pain pierced my heart. It stabbed at it like a sharp knife and I felt my chest tighten.

An image conjured in my mind. 

My lips... They felt dry all of a sudden. My fingers felt restless, and my lungs started to heat with every breath. 

A familiar sensation. 

....And a familiar smell. 

Earthy, pungent, with a touch of sweet notes. 

Haa... This was... 

Tzzz—

The sound it made with each drag. 

The calmness it brought. 

The taste in my lips. 

I recalled everything. To the little detail. As if it were yesterday. 

Even the conversation that came along with that feeling. 

'....Why did you start smoking?' 

Who was it that asked me that question...? My mind was fuzzy. My surroundings were gray, and the figure's face felt faint. 

I couldn't recall much besides the conversation. 

But even now... 

I remembered my answer. 

'There was a time when I wanted to get cancer.'

My cheeks twitched. It was as if the knife stuck in my heart twisted, forcing me to react. 

It started to feel suffocating. 

Like someone was strangling my neck. Squeezing as tightly as they could. 

I couldn't recall the expression he made when I said those words. I wasn't looking at him, then. He was an afterthought. The one I was speaking to was none other than myself. 

'.....I smoked because I wanted cancer.' 

Each sentence pierced harder than the other. 

Harder. 

And deeper. 

'So that my parents for once... would care about me.' 

Because... 

'They never did.' 

It was sad. 

'They died before that. They never...'

But it was the truth. 

'...Got that chance, you know? The chance to pay attention to me as I lay on my deathbed. It's funny right?'

"H-ha..." 

I could hardly breathe by this point. 

The weight on my chest seemed immense. 

I... 

My lips trembled. 

I persisted. 

'The death of my parents... It never saddened me.'

I let the conversation flow. 

'The only thing that saddened me was the fact that they couldn't see me suffer. Pay attention to me once.'

I had been smiling then. 

The irony felt funny too much for me. 

"H-haa.." 

'I regret it now, though. I don't... want to die.' 

Their death made me regret my actions. 

I was eighteen then. 

'I thought that if I stopped, my body would heal. I was young. I am young. And yet...'

I was still smiling. 

'...I ended up getting cancer after I stopped. After I found reason to care.'

And I am still smiling now. 

Because... 

That's my life story. 

My pathetic life. 

I stopped then. I couldn't take it anymore. My mind couldn't take it. The memories... They felt too vivid... too real... 

Light returned to my eyes. 

Delilah appeared before me, her expression as stoic as ever. How long had passed? Probably a second or less, but it felt like an eternity to me. 

Tears trickled down my eyes. 

I let them. 

And then, I spoke. 

".....It's strange. Emotions. I didn't think they'd hurt so much." 

*** 

The silence felt stifling. 

"...." 

Delilah stood by the window of her office. She stared down at the campus from above, quietly staring at the moving cadets. 

It had been ten minutes since Julien had left. 

Even now, she was thinking about him.

About his 'sadness'. 

The expression he made after she had asked, his change in expression, the tears in his eyes, the power of his voice... 

Images of him—that moment—continued to replay in her mind. 

She had asked out of curiosity. It was after hearing the reports about what he had done back in the classroom that she felt compelled to test. 

Emotions were a scary tool. 

Regardless of strength, they could affect someone. Everyone had emotions. Some were just better at hiding them than others. 

"It's still a bit raw." 

His mastery over his emotions... 

They weren't very refined just yet. He still had some way to go. It was also why she hadn't felt anything then. 

But it was also true she hardly felt anything normally. 

She had hoped that maybe, just maybe... 

He could help her feel something. 

It was a slim hope, but one she didn't cling to for long. He was only eighteen. Her expectations weren't that high to begin with. 

".....Unfortunate." 

Truly. 

Delilah turned around to focus back on her work. As her eyes fell on a document on her desk, she felt her eye itch. 

"...." 

It was an odd itch. 

An annoying one. 

Especially when... 

Drip!

....It ended up staining the paper beneath.