“That’ll be 34.20.”
I stared up at the customer as he started taking out his wallet, counting the bills. After counting to about 34.10 he stared up at me a reluctant look in his eyes. I could probably guess what he was thinking. He wanted me to just give him a break, let him off.
I looked back at him and smiled. “It’s okay.”
I thought about not letting him off but my shift was about to end and honestly didn’t want to care about this.
The Routine.
I had incorporated the routine of an average American of my age into my schedule. The minimum wage job, the cheapskate spending. I really felt like the average American boy now. Aimlessness and everything.
Alex had obviously rejected my offer. At first, that is. I mean who wouldn’t want someone who could get rid of all the mess in your house in less than 10 minutes, I was basically the maid supreme. My [ Wind Control ] had improved quite a lot in the few weeks that I wasn’t her official housemate. She always liked watching me practice it so I ended practicing a lot. Whether that be because I wanted her to watch me or I wanted to practice literal magic was still something I thought about.
It had been 3 months so far. Living with her was nice in its own ways.
The first month was the hard part, I was too awkward and I was trying too hard to be something I wasn’t. Perfect. I kept trying to show off my non-existent mastery in [ Wind Control ] because in my head that was the only reason she even let me stay, but after a while, I realized she didn’t really give a shit about it so I relaxed, started acting like I would around my would-be best friends. Wannabe Funny-guy, Unironic Pun User, Imperfect Human.
I liked the fact that she never seemed to mind when I went on my rants about useless things. I liked the way she didn’t seem to care about my irregularities; to her, I was just another human being, although one with supreme maid powers.
I liked the fact that she cringed with me when I made my unfunny puns and equally unfunny jokes.
I liked her.
But she didn’t like me back. At least not in the way I wanted.
After the second month, we got mildly comfortable near each other, at least as much as people who knew each other for one month did. A friendly tap on the arm, a joking push, but nothing more. I knew I fell in love too fast, and I knew exactly why too. It was sort of obvious that the lack of human interaction I had suffered before I landed in her saintly grasp was making me think things I wouldn’t normally think.
After all when you looked like I did, or when the way you thought yourself to look was as bad as it was, you learned to keep your distance. Self-Esteem had never been my strong point. After one rejection in my life, I figured, why bother. I wasn’t stupid enough to go through that again. I could tell she didn’t want more than what we had with me, and I was happy with what I had with her so I never bothered to look for more. After all, beggars couldn’t be choosers.
I had been looking into the void thinking these thoughts, looking at nothing in particular. My self-contemplation session unfortunately though was brought to an end when another customer walked towards the counter.
“Sheesh, it’s raining cats and dogs out there.”
I replied without looking up to see the customer’s face as I started to scan their products. “Sure is.”
I continued scanning. I was used to this. The motions had been burned into my head like a bad joke that I couldn’t stop telling. “That’ll be 20.45.”
I looked up to see the customer only to be met with their gaze.
I knew this person.
“Natalius ?”
I blanked for a second. I definitely knew this person most people I knew called me Nathan, but I remembered one person who didn’t.
“Mom.”
A look of realization crashed on her face and a hand crashed on mine. The slap was crisp and loud enough for anyone in the store to hear it.
“Why!?”
She screamed her lungs out and I let her. I had basically disappeared and never came back for more than half a year so of course, she would think I was dead.
“Is this a joke to you? Do you think this is funny?”
I didn’t blame her for being angry but at this point, I didn’t care anymore. I just wanted to get back home and talk to Alex.
“You disappear for months and all of the sudden I see you working at a damned fast food store? Do you-“
I interrupted her before she could go on for another hour. “Please, let’s talk later.”
I wasn’t in the mood to be berated by my mother right before I finished my shift.
“My shift finishes soon so could you please wait.”
She had a disbelieving look on her face. It was as if she couldn’t believe I didn’t shut up and let her scream at me, as she was used to doing. She crossed her arms and impatiently tapped her foot at me as if expecting me to tell her something. She never did like it when I didn’t listen to her every word.
After about 5 minutes, she gave up and walked outside the store with her umbrella and phone in hand. No doubt contacting her relatives to complain about me, only this time it was probably going to be about how I faked my death for attention knowing her.
I stared at her back as she continued to gather her anger for maybe what was going to be the longest session of: ‘I scream at you, and you stand there and listen.’.
I wasn’t really excited about it. I didn’t even really want to talk to her. She hadn’t seen me for months and the first thing she did was not to ask what happened, or if I was okay but to automatically berate me on why I was wrong on whatever she thought I did this time.
Typical.
The rest of my shift sped by, and as I haphazardly make my way to the break room to get my stuff, I pulled up my phone.
‘I’m going to need this . . .’
I navigated through folders of songs to land on one that perfectly described what I was going to feel in the next few minutes to possibly hours. My eyes kept up with my fast scrolling until I landed on the one song that I was looking for.
[ Agnus Dei ]
The effect kicked in. It slowly started building up along with the music until I got the usual notification.
[ It pushes you down ]
-| Silence | debuff removed
-Dexterity reduced by 10%
-Strength reduced by 10%
This was it.
This was what this skill now amounted to in moments like these. Another way to push myself down further than I already was. But who was I kidding, I was always one for the silent dramatics.
My head hung down low. I didn’t want to feel bad for leaving her in the dark, but I naturally felt bad seeing as she was my mother. She wasn’t emotionally blind 24/7 after all. She gave birth to me, and sometimes helped me up when I was down, and sometimes acted like how I thought a mother should, but here I was walking towards her, staring at the dirty floor wondering what I was going to not say.
A ding could be heard as the automatic door made way for me as if to hurry me to get this over with. I walked through unable to get my head up.
“Why haven’t you returned home? Do you know how worried I was?”
She started by setting up her classic guilt trip trap. To which I replied with:
Nothing.
She kept going, her voice starting to build volume. “Do you know what you’ve caused?! Don’t you understand what you’ve done?! Why aren’t you saying anything?! Answer when I talk to you!”
This was a rare one. She almost never asked actual questions. Usually, in situations like this, she would ask a question that either had an obvious answer that would make me feel ashamed for answering, or no immediate answer. So for her to ask . . .
“No.”
She seemed exasperated by my answer. “Is that all you have to say?”
“Most likely.”
Now that I thought about it, she didn’t seem as angry as I had initially thought. Her anger seemed to have dissipated word by word as it turned into tiredness. She seemed older, frail. Age was still a thing after all.
“Are you going to come back home?”
I knew the answer to this. “No.”
Even if my parents had somehow changed in the about half a year that I was gone magically I still wouldn’t want to go back.
“Your brother misses you.”
“I know.”
I knew, but I had purposely stashed everything related to my family in the back of my mind so I could forget the people that probably missed me. My brother was the one good thing in that house and now I abandoned him.
“…”
She seemed to not know what to say. I couldn’t blame her. I was giving her one-word answers like a girl trying to let a guy off easy over text. It was probably really annoying.
“At least speak with your brother, I mean for fuck’s sake he still thinks you’re dead.”
“…”
This time it was me who was stumped. She was right and I knew she was right. She sighed, seemingly giving up on berating me. I guess finding your supposedly dead son had a way of softening you up.
“Are you at least still going to school?”
“No.”
“Is that why you’re working here?”
“No.”
“Where are you even living?”
“With someone.”
“With someone, is it someone I know at least?”
“No.”
There’s the mother I knew. Even my friendships were monitored with this woman. I was always required to go through her first before I even fully befriended someone. It was hell.
The conversation went on for a good 10 minutes before she finally gave up from exasperation. She talked my ears off about how I disappointed her by disappearing like that, and a slew of other demeaning things but didn’t seem to dwell on it as she mostly spoke about how I should get back into contact with my brother. It almost seemed as if she missed me, but I wasn’t going to trick myself into believing she completely changed after that showing of emotion, so I left leaving the conversation off on an unaccomplished note.
The bus ride was as plain as usual. I had missed my usual bus by about a couple of seconds so I had to wait another hour or so before a new one passed through. Standing for an hour wasn’t exactly fun so as soon as I entered I sat down.
This reminded me of that day. I had been sitting on a bus just like this and then my life changed. For the better or the worst, I had yet to see.
Arriving at my new home, I took off my shoes and placed them in a nearby walking around in my socks. I turned off the oppressively depressing music still playing in my ears and laid down on the carpet. I didn’t really want to get up at this moment.
“The heck happened to you.”
Her voice was as beautiful as always, like music to my ears. I wanted to see her face while I spoke so I turned my head and replied. “I talked to my mom.”
She sucked air through her teeth. “Sheeeeeshhh. Are you ok?”
This is why I loved her. She didn’t even bother asking more about it as my mother had, she cared for my wellbeing, she wanted to know, if I was ok.
I answered honestly. “No.”
She walked forward and sat down next to me, her hands resting on her knees. “You wanna get talk about it?”
“Honestly . . . No, I don’t wanna waste your time with this. She kinda just screamed at me for being an irresponsible twat for 30 minutes, and then I left.”
She stared at me with those eyes.
‘Is this what being a simp feels like?’
She frowned lightly. “Did she even bother to ask why you didn’t come back?”
I chuckled and shook my head. “You’d think.”
“Wow, she’s really just as bad as you made her out to be.”
“I don’t know . . . I want to hate her, but she’s still my mom you know.”
“I totally get what you mean.”
Her hands slid off her knees, and she laid down on the carpet copying my pose.
She changed her pose to a more comfortable one as she turned her head to face mine. My heart sped up. If I wasn’t as melanated as I was she would definitely be able to tell I was blushing.
Although we we’re nothing more than friends, there were moments like these where I wasn’t sure what to think of the distance between us. I wanted us to be closer so I spoke with her more, telling her about my past, my family, the events before I met her. It was a bit shortsighted looking back but I didn’t regret it. I liked talking to her. It made me feel ways that I’d honestly forgotten about. The butterflies in my stomach, the fast-beating heart. It was nice.
I hurried to change the topic. “This is honestly bumming me out. You wanna play Guilty Gear instead?”
She smiled. “You’re on.”
“That’s my 20th win in a row, pay up loser.” She had that smug look on her face. I had a love/hate relationship with it, but It was definitely leaning more towards love.
“Eh? What are you talking about you definitely said 40 games, 40 games yeah?”
“You said 20 games 10 games ago please take the loss.”
“No, no I don’t think I will.”
“Hmph.” She didn’t seem to actually be annoyed, after all, who would be annoyed at winning.
“How about another bet.” I offered.
She seemed interested so I continued. “Forget about the other games we’ve played so far, we do a best out of 5 and whoever wins gets to make the loser do anything they want.”
She seemed surprised. “You seem awfully confident for someone who just lost 20 times in a row.”
I faked a smug tone to try to irritate her. “Oh? I was just going easy on you, don’t underestimate seedlings and get too full of yourself ay.”
I was somewhat telling the truth at that moment as I had been trying to use [ One With The Wind ] to sharpen my inputs seeing how the skill encompassed all movements. My trouble with games such as the one we were playing was always the barrier of execution so, with a skill such as the one I had, that barrier was practically shattered.
The first game ended with her winning, so of course, she couldn't pass up this chance to return my smugness with hers. “Oho? Still going easy on me are we?”
I smirked in slight self-defeat. I had to admit she was good at this game, too good, but now it was my turn to be smug.
The second game I clutched a victory, and so the cycle of smugness began again. “Don’t get too scared now, I’m just getting started.”
She let out a humph. “Yeah whatever, stick it up your ass with your Unga Bunga character.”
I chuckled, flicking my controller stick around in a taunting manner while smirking in her direction.
The back and forth of an almost flirty but not amorous enough to be flirty conversation rang out as we played the game. I hated this limbo we were in and I just wished either of us would make up our minds and get on with it.
She won the third game, I won the fourth.
“Uh ohhhh, getting dangerously close to losing to yours truly now are you.”
She grinned as if she had found a weakness of mine “We’ll see about that.”
And indeed I did see. I lost the third game. I guess execution wasn’t all I was lacking.
I started talking before we began once again. “Well, this is the last game of this set, out of curiosity what were you going to do if you won.”
The smugness intensified as she gave me a smirk. “You’ll see.”
My heart quickened, if I stayed next to her long enough I was sure I was going to get a heart attack someday.
The last game was tense, she wasn’t willing to give me any headway as she had before. Her combos were sharp and crisp, seeming as if she was a robot. She had indeed found a bad habit of mine but I wasn’t going to let that stop me. As the game was coming to a close I realized if I kept this combo going I would have this game in the bag, but something stopped me.
I knew I liked her but what was I going to do when I won? Was this just lust, or was it something pure like I had been telling myself. I knew deep down I desperately wanted to take some steps to deepen our relationship, but how? I wasn’t too sure of myself anymore and in that moment of weakness, I dropped the combo. Naturally, she capitalized.
I wasn’t sure what to say so I dropped my controller and turned towards her still feigning calmness.
“So what will it be oh winner of the sacred bet.”
I wanted to know. I wanted to know if she wanted what I wanted. Foolishness? Maybe, but what was life without a little hope.
She pushed her body closer to mine still keeping a section of space between us. The thumps in my chest were getting horrendously fast. Our eyes met, and she leaned closer to me.
I gulped, I was sure my skin would be hot enough to cook an egg at this point.
Her hand slowly made its way towards my face while my eyes followed every bit of its movements. Time seemed to slow as it got closer to me until . . .
She put her hand on my hair.
“Dye your hair silver.”
She stood up and left, leaving me alone on the couch.
I was stiff until I didn’t hear her steps anymore and let my body slump on the couch.
“Fuck.”
