#semi writes

It’s always been the 7:00 one. Always the same train car, and sometimes even the same seat—if it’s vacant. Any train earlier than that gets you to campus way too early. Any later and you’re stuck in a shitty crowded car with an onset headache to plague you for the rest of the morning, and that’s the very last thing you want.

The thing about your life lately is that it has you in a damn frenzy most of the time. And weirdly enough, it's routines like this—even something as simple as setting a designated seat for yourself—that keep you sane. A little pocket of normalcy that you think is nice, because it's familiar, and something to expect.

And then there’s him. 

You’ve seen him every morning for weeks now, down to the same train car, even. You’ve seen people from your campus come and go on the 7:00 train, but he’s always in the same one as you. Or at least, most of the time. You almost expect him to be here nowadays (for no particular reason–it’s not like he’s really pretty or anything), and get a little bit disappointed whenever he’s not. He always has that quiet energy to him–hood up, headphones in, and leaning slightly against the window with a huge duffel bag in between his legs that you’re pretty sure would kill you if you ever had to carry it across campus.

He doesn’t talk. You sometimes wonder what he’s listening to, but never dare to actually ask. Other times, you see him doomscrolling on his phone and laughing (at what, you don’t even want to know—Instagram reels are becoming extremely questionable nowadays), yet you feel yourself unconsciously smiling too.

You swear you’re not a stalker. He’s just a friend crush (that’s definitely all there is to it), and you’re just extremely observant.

You’re not totally sure when you realized that you both go to the same school, but one day, you noticed him get off the same stop as you, and watched him disappear into the general direction of your campus building. Now, it just feels like common knowledge. Of course you go to the same school as him. Of course he almost always takes the same train as you. He’s practically a part of your morning routine at this point, which is… weird. But oddly comforting, in a way. You’ve never actually spoken to each other, but you’ve noticed how he glances up at you whenever you board. Just once, brief and subtle. It makes you wonder if he recognizes you, too.

It gets to a point where it starts feeling less of a coincidence and more like a pattern that you’ve started to look forward to.

The day that you finally talk to him for the first time, it’s raining. 

You stayed up far too late finishing a paper that’s already past due, and it shows–everyone on board could see that you’re only running on fumes. You manage to sit down onto the nearest seat with heavy eyes, pulling your hood down with splatters of rainwater all over it. With your earbuds loosely in, you don’t even have the energy to check if he’s on the train, and just let the sound of the rain pitter-pattering against the window gently lull you to sleep.

You fall into a dreamless slumber for the entire train ride. You don’t notice the train eventually slowing at your campus stop. Don’t notice the other students gathering their things, already making their way to leave. 

Oh, but Mydei does.

Ever since you stepped on the train this morning, he’s been a little bit concerned for you. You didn’t even stare out the window like you usually do. Didn’t spare a second glance at your phone, or bother to look in his direction at all. You just closed your eyes and slept like you hadn’t in days (and judging by the way you practically melted in your seat the second you had the chance, maybe he was right).

So when he glances over his shoulder, just as he’s about to leave, and still sees you completely knocked out?

He freezes. And then almost lets out a laugh, not because it’s funny (well, maybe it is a little funny), but because he’d never truly admit it out loud, but you looked a little… cute like that. Which is not a thought he should be having about a complete stranger that he’s never even talked to. What the hell is wrong with him?

The train jerks, and the doors begin to open, and Mydei realizes he needs to act fast–both for his sake and yours. He steps toward you quickly, traversing everyone that’s still shuffling out the doors, and hesitates for only a fraction of a second before gently tapping your shoulder. “Hey.”

Nothing. He’s almost amused. You sleep like a rock. 

So he tries again, tapping a little more incessantly this time as the speaker overhead begins to announce the next station, which is in a completely different city from your campus location… so Mydei’s growing concern starts to become a little bit more warranted. Taking the train back was not about to be a part of his morning, and he’s certain that you don’t want it to be a part of yours, too. “Hey, this is our stop.”

He almost considers shaking you awake, but your eyes finally flutter open, just in time. You blink repeatedly to try and ground yourself. “...Huh?”

“You’re gonna miss the station,” says the mysterious guy standing over you. He almost… looks a little familiar. If only you could see. “Come on.”

Your vision begins to clear, albeit still fogged with exhaustion. He’s… tall, blonde, and wearing a dark hoodie. He also has a nice voice. And he’s kind of–

Wait.

Wait a minute.

You finally register who’s standing in front of you.

Holy shit. Did I die? Is this heaven?

You don’t actually say that out loud, by some miracle. He’s even more attractive when you’re not staring at him from across the train car, and better yet, he’s right in front of you. It’s certainly a pretty sight–there’s warmth in his voice, the same calmness in his expression, and your wildly beating heart is still trying to figure out why he’s talking to you, of all people.

And then—all of a sudden—his words finally catch up to you, and so does the terrifying realization that the train is still very much at your stop, and it will not wait for you to finish gawking at the man in front of you like he’s some sort of eye-candy (well, he certainly is—but that’s besides the point).

“Shit–” you say, immediately getting up on your feet and grabbing your bag from the floor, avoiding the questionable gazes of the other passengers. You hear him laugh beside you, and that’s when you decide that even if you aren’t a dead man yet, you’re certainly about to meet your end now. “Holy shit–thank you so much,”

You step off the train with him in a daze, just barely missing the doors closing behind you. The rain’s stopped, and you heavily consider jumping off the station, or maybe even lying down on the tracks. Any plan works, so long as you never resurface on Earth ever again.

You don’t know what to say as you gradually regain your composure, and you almost want the ground to swallow you whole at this point. 

But then he looks over as you both start walking across the platform towards campus, and finally breaks the unbearable silence. “You looked so comfortable, I almost didn’t wake you.”

You blink up at him, face caught somewhere between amusement and lingering embarrassment. “You really considered leaving me behind? It’s a pain in the ass to get all the way back here.”

“I know. And I thought about it,” he says with a genuine straight face, so deadpan that you almost do a double-take. For a moment, it seemed like he wasn’t joking, but the way his eyes soften–just so very slightly–says otherwise. “But then I figured I’d save you all the trouble, you know? You looked like you had enough going on.”

His words make you laugh, startling you with how easily it comes out. You can’t help it. He’s funny, in an almost unintentional way, and suddenly, he doesn’t feel so distant anymore. He lets out a small smile too, just barely, and there’s a strange warmth blooming in your chest. It’s almost like his gaze (which holds something akin to that of the sun), is slowly cracking through the clouds and deciding to settle there, right under the crevices of your ribcage.

It feels… nice.

“Seriously, though,” you mumble, a little quieter this time. “Thanks. For waking me up. I, uh–didn’t catch your name?”

“Mydei,” he says, and maybe it’s the way he says it, or maybe even the way he’s looking at you–like you’re familiar to him–it makes you feel like a little kid getting their favorite toy on Christmas Day. You say your name in return, and he nods, repeating it under his breath as if he were already familiarizing himself with it. Absolutely priceless. “I’ll see you tomorrow, I guess?”

You pause at that. You weren’t even sure if he’d noticed you after all this time. But now? He’s looking directly at you and waiting, like this little routine of yours was something you really did share this entire time, and it’s something to expect for both of you now. “Yeah, of course. See you tomorrow.”

And for the first time since you started taking the 7:00 train, you’re actually looking forward to it.

It’s silly, maybe. But that’s where it all begins, your little friendship with Mydei, and it's also when things start to change. Your designated seat shifts to the one right next to his. He starts saving it with his duffle bag before you finally board the train, and it becomes another part of your routine that neither of you has to talk about. And you also never miss the way his eyes light up when he sees you every morning, like you’re the one piece of the day that he’s been waiting for. 

With Mydei, there’s never any pressure to fill the space with words–the silence is actually something you find comfort in. Some days, you talk the whole ride to campus about anything and everything, until, much to your dismay, you have to part ways for class (those are the days you love the most). On other days, you rarely talk at all. Instead, you exchange a few words and sooner or later find yourself asleep right next to him, while he makes sure that you don’t miss your stop (like what almost happened before).

But that never happens anymore. Not when you’re with him.

And then there’s the day it happens–the day you’re running on 2 hours of sleep again (unfortunately, days like that have been finding you more often recently, regardless of how much you try and take care of yourself), a vending machine granola bar, and a prayer that you’ll actually make it home without collapsing.

It’s past 8 p.m. when you finally drag yourself onto the train.

The fluorescent lights faintly hum overhead, and the seats are half-empty. It’s currently the awkward in-between hour, but you’re just glad that the evening rush period is winding down, and you’re granted a little bit of peace. Your bag feels far heavier than it should be, your hoodie’s too thin, and for a second, you seriously consider lying down on the seats. Thankfully, the sanitation risks of doing that, as well as your remaining decorum, both outweigh just how tired you are.

For a moment, you’re too tired to scan your surroundings. Your body moves on autopilot–one step after the other–and you don’t even register the familiar tuft of blonde hair sitting in the corner until he lifts his head. “Mydei?”

He blinks. Then, lets out a smile–soft and easy, and you think that sight is perhaps the only good thing to come out of today. You rarely ever see Mydei on the train back from campus, since you have conflicting schedules that never overlap with each other. Sometimes, you work overtime at the cafe if you ever need extra money. On other days—days that you literally have to pray for, your roommate Anaxa graciously offers you a ride home whenever the damn stars align and his schedule allows it (although it rarely does, much to your chagrin). And finally, there are days—grueling days like today, when there are far too many things to do after classes, even though there’s nothing more you want to do than go home.

You think that seeing him for the second time today is exactly what you needed right now. Like for once, the universe had finally granted you a cosmic favor.

“Oh. Hey,” he says, and he moves his duffle bag to make room for you, just like what he always does in the mornings. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Me too,” you mumble, sitting down next to him with a huff. You rub your eyes, which are already thick with exhaustion, and the familiar tiredness almost feels verbatim to that one day when he woke you up. At least the chair gives you a little bit of respite. And his presence–steady and familiar–does more to ground you than you expect. “What’re you doing out this late?”

“Just finished up at the gym,” he replies coolly, and you notice the way his hair is still slightly damp and smells slightly of cedarwood shampoo, clean and warm and way too good for your current mental state. (He’s swapped out his usual hoodie for a black compression shirt, and… Okay. How the hell is he not more popular with the girls?) 

You’re no fool, you wish you could ogle a bit more at the way that tight shirt hugs his muscles for a little bit longer, if only you weren’t running on sheer willpower right now. But still, you make the effort to stay awake. All so you could talk to him. “What about you?”

“Stayed after class. Had to finish a project, and time got away from me.” He nods at your words, doing a once-over at your appearance. It’s not in a judgemental way, it’s never judgemental with Mydei–it’s just in that quiet, observant way that he always seems to do things. 

The train car hums. You notice that you’re not exactly brushing arms with him, but your hoodie sleeve is close enough that it’s touching his whenever the train bumps. The proximity is enough for you to feel safe. Familiar. 

“You okay?” he asks after a beat, a little quieter this time. “You… need to learn to take care of yourself better.”

“I know,” you say, and you certainly do. And that’s the thing. It’s hard to take care of yourself when you’re simultaneously learning how to juggle fifty things at once, when at most, you were only ever equipped to juggle five. But it’s also challenges like these that help you grow a little more as a person. You’re trying. Even when it feels like you’re on your wits' end sometimes, like how tonight has you, you’re still trying your best. And hopefully, it’ll all pay off someday. “I just haven’t been able to sleep much. I’ll be okay.”

Mydei doesn’t push it. He just shifts slightly, letting his shoulder tilt a little towards you as if it were a silent offer. You glance at him, and he doesn’t look back, but you know that he sees you anyway. Really sees you, even though this entire day, you‘ve been feeling nothing more than completely see-through.

You two fall into silence after that, his soft, quiet breathing filling your senses. It’s familiar—the one you’re used to with Mydei, the kind of silence you get when you’re too tired to talk, but want to be there for each other anyway. And it's enough for both of you. It always has been.

You’re not exactly sure when your eyes flutter shut, but at some point in the train ride, the world feels a little fuzzier and a little quieter. The culmination of everything exhausting you’ve felt today finally hits you all at once, and you can’t help but fall asleep.

Then it happens–somewhere in your unconsciousness, your head tips to the side and lands softly against his shoulder.

And he freezes.

You don’t see it–how his breath hitches, how his jaw tenses and then quickly softens. How he’s afraid to move a single inch, in fear that he’ll wake you. How he swallows hard, like maybe if he pretends to be calm, he can stop his heart from racing. But damn, it’s racing like hell, and he’s anything but calm.

Because here’s the thing: If you’ve started falling for Mydei after all those shared mornings with him, he’s already a step ahead because he’s definitely fallen harder. He’s had a teensy little crush on you… for a while. It’s the easy, slow kind—the kind where you’ve begun to bury a little hole in his heart, and he doesn’t notice until you've already sunk your teeth in and he’s too far gone to just back out. You’ve carved such a special place within him without even trying… and now he’s got you asleep on his shoulder, like it’s nothing?

And maybe to you, it truly is nothing. But to him? It feels like everything right now, and more.

He has one hand hesitating in the air before carefully resting it on the seat behind you–not quite touching (no matter how much he wants to put his arm around your shoulder), but enough to shield you if the train ever sways. He’s so careful with you. Like you’ll break if he does something wrong. Like this moment matters, and that it’s far more than just you being exhausted. A part of his mind is trying to convince him that this was purely accidental, and that you didn’t mean to fall asleep on his shoulder. But then another part of him says that you trust him enough to be in this close proximity with him, regardless of whether you meant to do that or not.

And yet, he can’t help but take this opportunity to really look at you—as if you hung the stars yourself, because he knows that he’ll keep looking at you that way, even if you didn’t mean to do any of this. Even if you don’t know just exactly what you’re doing to him. 

And then you shift.

You nuzzle in a little closer, nose brushing the edge of his sleeve, and mumble something into his shirt that sounds a little something like, “...You’re really comfy.” 

Fuck.

Mydei literally forgets how to breathe. 

Because now, his suspicions were just confirmed–this was, in fact, not accidental, and he doesn’t know how long he can keep pretending that this is all casual to him anymore. Because this is anything but casual. You mean something to him, and that something is deep, even though he's only known you through these shared mornings and train rides. Moments like these are so simple, yet he wouldn’t trade them for the world.

And this is also the moment where he has his second realization: He needs to tell you how he feels, and soon, before he completely loses it. Before being your shoulder rest on the train is the closest thing he ever gets to holding you. To ever being truly yours.

Because if this keeps happening—and you keep looking at him the way you do, keep dozing off against him like this, mumbling half-asleep about how comfy he is to lie on…

Yeah, he’s gonna be a complete goner. 

And the worst part? Mydei doesn’t think he minds all too much.

The more he speaks, the more you are reminded that you didn’t stand on the same ground as him. You felt terrifyingly inferior, and even though he was right in front of you, you felt like you were miles away from him. 

“No, I’m saying you’re ridiculous for calling me weak and incapable because apparently, I’m not good enough to go on this expedition when it’s my fucking job.”

However, you mostly felt like a fool.

You felt like such a fool for falling in love with a man like him. You fell in love with him because of his neverending thirst for knowledge. You fell in love with him because you were just as much of a bibliophile as he was. You fell in love with him because you wanted to spread your knowledge around the universe as much as he wished to. You fell in love with him because, for a moment, you thought he saw you differently from everyone else, and that he truly enjoyed being in your presence.

You turn away from him, tears forming in your eyes. You stubbornly blink them away, because you think back to what started this argument in the first place.

You had just finished detailing your mission to Veritas, which was your routine every time the Intelligentsia Guild dispatched you on some kind of research expedition. This mission was different, however. You would be gone for three months, longer than usual–and the mission was very combat-oriented and dangerous, which wasn’t like your usual expeditions. Despite the warnings, you still accepted it, thinking of it as something new, but nothing that you couldn’t handle.

Veritas seemed to think otherwise, however, because when you peer over to look at his reaction, he looked very displeased. 

(It wasn’t a very uncommon look to see on his face, but you could tell he seemed more serious–like how the frown lines on his face were deeper than usual.)

You weren’t particularly surprised by the expression on his face. What surprised you the most was the first thing that came out of his mouth after hearing your expedition’s rundown. “Are you sure you’ll be able to go on that mission?”

You look at him incredulously, surprised at the amount of distaste in his voice. His displeasure was directed at… you? “What is that supposed to mean, Veritas?”

“I’m saying that you’re too weak and incapable to go on that expedition, Y/N. I do not know why the Guild would assign you such a difficult mission. They truly are overestimating your power.” The words came out of his mouth so casually, like you had just asked him about the weather. Is this how his students feel when they take his infamous course with a passing rate of a mere three percent? How his students feel whenever they get scolded by him?

You just can’t believe it. He said those words like it were a fact—straight from the myriad of encyclopedias that he’s read. Maybe because it was a fact in his head: he saw you as nothing but “weak” and “incapable”.

A stray tear manages to escape from your eye, and you quickly wipe it away angrily before turning back to Veritas with a sniffle. No. You cannot cry in front of his face. Crying is an expression of weakness–of vulnerability. And what you are trying to prove to Veritas is that you are not “weak”. You are not “incapable” either, and you are going to prove that to him by going on this mission and making him eat his words. 

“I will be leaving in three system hours. Do not bother showing up during my departure.”

You cringe at the way your voice shakes at the end, but you stand firm. Those words were the last thing you said to him before leaving his office with a bitter heart. When you exit his room, you finally let your emotions run free, letting the tears stream down your face without end. You quietly sob as you retreat to your own office, closing the door and letting out a shaky exhale, escaping all the nosy whispers and chatter of the Guild members.

You sob at the heartbreaking realization that just when you think you’ve gotten close to the “untouchable” Veritas Ratio, he pushes you away just like how he does to everyone else… because that’s just simply what you are to him. 

Another person who fades into the background, and nothing more.

Dr. Veritas Ratio is a man who exhibits prestige and greatness like no other. Throughout his academic career, he obtained eight PhDs and graduated with the First Class Honors Degree, which hadn’t been awarded to anyone for two Amber Eras. He was gifted with knowledge, and now he uses that knowledge and spreads it far across the cosmos to “cure idiocy”, treating it like a disease that needs to be treated.

And yet, for once in his life, he refuses to admit it out loud, but he’s acted like the one thing that he completely loathed. The very thing that he was trying to exterminate.

An idiot. He was an idiot, and it was all because he could not word himself correctly when he spoke to you. He has written hundreds of papers, essays, and dissertations, but time and time again, he could not seem to think—to be able to formulate the proper words to say when it came to you.

And now, Veritas has royally messed up, and for once in life, he has no idea what to do.

He was just genuinely concerned for your safety. It was all he thought about once you had finished detailing your expedition to him. He wanted to convince you—to pick the right words to say so he could persuade you not to go, but it seems that his fear of being seen as vulnerable shone through first. It reminded him of the days when you two weren’t close; the days he spoke to you while wearing his alabaster head.

He only wears that head because he “can’t bear to see idiots,” but given how he just called you “weak” and “incapable” in the argument that just transpired, one could almost laugh at the hypocrisy of it all. Veritas may as well talk to himself while wearing the alabaster head.

Because only idiots would address you with those terms. 

You were an enigma to Veritas from the very beginning. People from the Intelligentsia Guild rarely stood out to him, but you were different—sticking out like a sore thumb the moment he laid his eyes on you. 

That’s because your presence utterly enchanted him—you had similar tastes in literary works, you matched his sarcasm and topped it off with even wittier replies, and you also wanted to use your knowledge for other people to learn.

You were not weak and incapable. He saw you as anything but that, in fact. He was at fault for the argument, but he can’t bring himself to say it out loud, for Aeon’s sake.

He knows that he owes you an apology, it’s the least he could do... He just needs to apologize, then convince you to not go on that expedition. You’re scheduled to leave soon—approximately two and a half system hours—he still has time.

And yet, his mind is being stubborn. He knows that he needs to apologize, but he just can’t bring himself to. He can’t remember the last time he’s genuinely apologized to someone—an apology without a trace of sarcasm at that.

“Trouble in paradise, doctor?”

He could recognize the esteemed gambler’s voice from miles away, and it irks him how he always seemed to show up at the worst times. Aventurine’s got a knowing gaze on him—a stare that can pierce through any poker face so he could see exactly what they’re thinking. “I suggest not meddling in any business that doesn’t concern you, gambler.”

Except he’s already got him. “This is about Y/N, isn’t it?”

Hook, line, and sinker.

Aventurine believes that one’s eyes are the windows to the soul–and he doesn’t miss the way Veritas’ eyes soften when he says your name, smiling at the unintentional answer to his question. He definitely doesn’t have the best poker face in town. For such a stoic man, he surely cannot put himself together when it comes to anything that has to do with you.

Aeons. Just what were you doing to him?

There was no use hiding it from him, so he just silently nodded, with Aventurine clicking his tongue. “Rumors fly fast in the guild, especially when Dr. Ratio’s dear friend Y/N was seen walking out of his office crying. I just had to see what this was really about, you know?” 

You were crying when you left?

He doesn’t voice his concern out loud, of course. Instead, Veritas just sighs heavily. “All I wanted to do was convince her to not go on that mission that she’s currently dispatched on. It just seems… far too dangerous.”

Aventurine’s got an idea of what happened next considering how you ran out of this room crying, but he decides to ask anyway. “Oh? And how did that work out for you?”

Veritas refuses to meet his gaze, his heart sinking when he simply thinks about what happened earlier. “…”

“At least humor me, doctor.”

He turns away from Aventurine completely, a deep shade of red coating his cheeks. Was it out of embarrassment? Shame? Whatever it was, he didn’t need him to see it. “…I called her weak and incapable.”

When Aventurine doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, Veritas speaks to fill the silence. “I admit, I did not know what was going through my head when I addressed her with those words.”

The uncomfortable silence drags on for a little longer until it’s interrupted by the piercing sound of Aventurine’s laughter. His laugh makes the red spread across Veritas’ cheeks even more—uncharacteristically so, especially since he’s normally so put together. He doesn’t even have the heart to tell Aventurine to stop laughing, because a small huge part of him feels that he deserves this.

He deserves to sit through this feeling because he knows you faced the same humiliation when he shut you out.

“Hahaha! I can’t—“ Aventurine’s nearly keeling over in laughter, and the gambler swears he could feel tears build up in his eyes. “Oh, please! You have such a way with words, don’t you?”

Aventurine continues, failing to conceal his hysteria. “Weak and incapable? If anything, that’ll only fuel the fire. She’d want to go on that mission just to prove you wrong.”

“I’m well aware. It is exactly what happened after all.” You’re leaving soon. The thought of you leaving makes Veritas’ stomach churn, and he has no idea why. Out of all the many expeditions you’ve been sent on, this is the first time he’s felt this way–been filled with so much dread.

“Well,” Aventurine pretends to think for a moment, putting his hand on his chin. “It won’t hurt to sacrifice a little bit of your already enormous ego to apologize to her, no? There’s enough of your pride to go around.” 

I don’t know if I can bring myself to.

Veritas doesn’t say those words out loud. Instead, he masks his worries with a scoff. Aventurine doesn’t have to know. “Watch your mouth, gambler.”

“Oh my, I really struck a nerve there, did I?”

“Researcher Y/N? I’m sorry sir, she just departed a few minutes ago.”

You left.

The three system hours hadn’t even passed yet—there were still two hours before your scheduled departure—and you left early.

You left, and he didn’t even get the opportunity to apologize. 

The researcher could only watch as the great Veritas Ratio, normally so composed, looks away from him wide-eyed and mouth slightly agape. He’s utterly dumbfounded, a look that is never seen on his face. What is he supposed to do now?

You’re too late.

For the next several weeks, Veritas could only wait anxiously for your return. Worry follows him like a cloud, and even his students pick up on his weird behavior. It’s all so grueling—waiting for you without so much of an idea of how you’re doing or if your expedition is going well. 

While waiting for your return, he plans out his actions for the next time he sees you. He doesn’t want to apologize over text–Veritas sees it as inappropriate and prefers to show his sincerity in person. Face-to-face is how he is going to do it, and he sends you a message in preparation for that. “I’d like for us to talk when you’re back. Please message me immediately upon your arrival.”

…Except an error message stares at him back when he presses the send button. It’s almost mocking him in a sense, like the universe is doing everything in its power to prevent him from atoning for his mistakes. Of course you weren’t going to have signal when you’re so far away from him. Just what was he expecting?

You were scheduled to return after another few weeks, and Veritas could only prepare for the days to pass by excruciatingly slowly. Until then, he thinks over what he’s going to say for his apology. Maybe he could give you something too. He thinks that finding a way to get your favorite flowers is a nice start.

You’re tired.

Exhaustion envelops you like a blanket, and after trying your hardest to resist, you just can’t anymore.

You’re so tired. 

You finally succumb to the fatigue, falling onto the ground as your sword clatters with a thud. You lay there, lying in a pool of your own blood, accepting that this was the cruel fate that the great Aeons above bestowed upon you in the end. You laugh at the absurdity of it all, but it only comes out as a weak cough, which quickly transitions into a fit of hacking up crimson droplets—lighting your throat on fire.

It was a fragmentum monster ambush. The planet you were exploring contained a lot of them–mainly due to the Stellaron corrosion that it was experiencing. After three weeks of exploring, it was supposed to be just another day of collecting data and extracting information for the guild. You’ve done this countless times already–anything out of the ordinary happening was beyond you.

The ambush had occurred when you least expected it–you barely even had the time to draw out your sword. One thing led to another, and at some point, there were just too many of them that leaving the battle unscathed was out of the question. And at the end of it, you were a mess, standing in a field of bodies with blood sticking to your clothes–a mix of the fragmentum and your own. The worst part was that it was mainly your own, with the source coming from a deep gash in your abdomen. You were losing blood at a terrifying rate.

Panic fills your veins once you fully process the gravity of the situation. Heart thumping, you realize that you’re going to die–and you are going to die alone.

What a pitiful end this was.

You’ve sent a distress call to the guild, but you know that your fate has been sealed already. You’ll be long gone before anyone will be here to help you, and they’d just be here to clean up your remains. You hope that the guild would at least grant you a proper funeral.

It’s truly comical how fate works. People your age are usually too busy thinking about marriage, or deciding how many kids they want to have in the near future. And yet, here you are, on the precipice of reaching death’s door, thinking about your funeral. 

Your vision turns blurry, and you sniffle as hot tears begin to roll down your cheeks. Fuck, you don’t want to die. There are far too many things that you haven’t done. And yet, you can’t find the strength to continue on either. You’re just so, so tired.

In the midst of your cries, you softly mumble out a name. A name that you love, hate, and everything in between with a passion.

“…Veritas.”

You initially wanted to go on this mission with the intent of exploring this planet, but after the argument, you know you went mainly because you wanted to prove him wrong.

You wonder if he truly meant those words. Even if he didn’t, maybe he was right, because look at what your determination had cost you–lying in a pool of your own blood, all because you wanted Veritas to see that you weren’t weak and incapable.

Even though you went on this expedition angry at him, (a part of you still is angry) you’ve never wanted to see him so badly in your life. You were going to die with many regrets–perhaps the biggest one was that you never got to tell Veritas how you truly feel about him.

You just want to see him once last time. Is it selfish to ask for one more day with him? One more hour… or to engage in at least one more heated debate. Hell, you’d even take one more minute with him. And in that minute, maybe you’d slap him in the face for what happened. But maybe you’d tell him you love him and kiss him over and over, apologizing for even thinking about slapping his stupidly perfect face. 

Despite how much of an asshole he can be at times, you love Veritas Ratio. You love his snark and sarcasm and everything about him, and you’re going to die without even knowing if he loves you back. This is your biggest regret.

No, you can’t die like this. You need to tell him. You have to.

As darkness starts to cloud your vision, you use all of your remaining strength to pull your phone out from your pocket despite the wound in your abdomen screaming in protest. Your fingers shakily make their way to Veritas’ contact, and with a pained breath, you begin to type.

“Take me to where she sent the distress call, now.”

There was a bunch of commotion in the guild—too much commotion considering how early it was. Veritas could only wonder what all the clamor was about, but he froze once he heard your name leave one of the researcher’s mouths. 

And his biggest nightmare is now a reality once someone finally fills him in on the situation: Your signal had disappeared off the radar, but not after you sent a distress call to the guild. You needed help, yet you were so far from his grasp. “But Doctor, we-“

“I need not repeat myself. Her life is in grave danger, and yet here you are, arguing with me and wasting precious time when this time could be used saving her.” His words surprised both himself and the guild member, who shakily nodded at his request. Veritas was certain that if you were just anybody else, he could have less of a care about your distress signal. But no, this was you—and he needed to make sure that you were okay.

Veritas looked calm and collected on the outside, but on the inside, he was falling apart. Calm yourself, you need to be the strong one in this situation. She’s the one in danger here.

Aeons, all he had to do was convince you to not go on this expedition. Instead, he made everything worse with his poor choice of words, and now he’s paying the price for it. He could only hope that he wasn’t too late.

Wait for me Y/N. Please. That’s all I ask.

In his office, there’s a bouquet of your favorite flowers resting on his desk, and they’ve slowly begun to wither away.

When Veritas finally arrived at where you were last seen on the signal, there were bodies littered everywhere, and he could only hope that none of them were yours. Paired with those bodies was the color red—crimson was scattered all over, and it was practically all he could see. Did you take all of these fragmentum down by yourself?

As Veritas inspected all of the fragmentum bodies, all slain by a single blade, one of the researchers accompanying him pointed out a trail of blood leaving the site. It makes him freeze, because it might be…

“Y/N.”

Shit.

He immediately goes after the trail without an ounce of hesitation. The scene laid before him is something that has only haunted him in his nightmares, yet at this very moment, it lies before him as a terrifying reality. 

His blood runs cold, and for the first time in his life, Veritas Ratio is rendered speechless.

Your limp body lies in front of him, in a pool of so much blood that just seeing it sickens him to his stomach. He can’t feel his own body as he falls to his knees, paying no mind to the other researchers around him. No, right now, it was just you and Veritas. Nobody else.

“No,” With trembling hands, he pulls your body close to his own as your blood taints his clothing. Even though he knows you’re too far gone already, he can’t help but try to feel your pulse, because there’s a part of him that just refuses to believe that he’s too late. “No, no, no—“

There was nothing.

It probably hasn’t been beating for a while, and that thought leaves him utterly empty, with a single stray tear rolling down his cheek.

If he were just a little bit faster, maybe he could’ve saved you. If he could’ve just formulated his words correctly so he could convince you not to go on this expedition. If he could’ve just apologized…

If he could’ve just been… a better friend.

All these could haves, yet Veritas didn’t act on any of them.

Pathetic.

Your phone is beside you, and Veritas gingerly picks it up. The screen was still lit, despite it being shattered to oblivion. It was open to the messaging app—specifically his contact.

It was never sent due to poor signal, but you were messaging him before you died. He was your last thought.

“I’m sorry, Veritas. I just don’t want you to think I’m weak and incapable.”

“Still, I want you to remember that”

You were the one apologizing to him, even after everything was said and done. He can’t even fathom that.

And weak and incapable, huh. You were anything but that. If anything, Veritas was the weak and incapable one. He was weak for not being able to swallow his pride even if he was the one in the wrong—and he was incapable of simply apologizing to you.

And the last message… What is it supposed to mean? 

What do you want him to remember?

When Veritas was sent to Penacony and matters with the head of the Oak Family, Sunday, had been dealt with, he was finally allowed to leave. It was the first mission the guild had assigned him since you left, and his efforts to prevent Aventurine from going on an all-out suicide mission helped Veritas take his thoughts away from you, even if it was just for a moment.

And yet, you always find your way back to haunt him. Not even the Land of Dreams could prevent that.

Still, he had done his part, sorted out his deals in Penacony as a representative sent by the guild, and it was time to go.

It’s been a few months since your death, and Veritas thinks that living without you is like living without the sun. It’s funny how he’s only realized how much you’ve changed his life only after you’ve gone. You lit up his life, both metaphorically and physically—and now, everything feels so dull, and he constantly longs for your presence in the darkness. 

But now you’re gone, and he feels so terribly lost, even now as he does paperwork in his office. Life became way more monotonous after you had left. The quiet is suffocating, because Veritas can only think about the times that the quiet office was filled with your voice instead. 

Even now, in the rare moments that Veritas picks up a book nowadays, he thinks about how much you would have enjoyed it as well.

Paperwork is one of the few things that he finds solace in anymore, as it helps him drown out his thoughts so they don’t end up drifting back to you.

…You.

His eyes land on your sword before he can even do anything about it, and he swallows thickly. Your blade is displayed on his wall, another way for Veritas to show his honor for you. 

The blade you singlehandedly used to defeat all those monsters, and the blade you’ll never be able to wield again.

He tears his eyes away from it before his thoughts can spiral again. He can feel his vision start to blur, and he blinks the tears away before they escape. He wonders how many tears he’s shed for you since you’ve been gone.

Veritas tries and fails to focus on his paperwork once more until he’s interrupted by a knock at the door.

He thinks a walk will do him good.

He stands up from his desk and slowly walks over to his office door, wondering who it could be. He rarely gets visitors nowadays, unless it’s something that’s of utmost importance. Everyone else is afraid to talk to him, as Veritas became… colder after your death.

If anyone were to ask why—it’s because when you died, a part of Veritas did too.

He turns the door’s handle, only to see…

You.

You were standing right in front of him, in the same outfit that you were in the day you left for your mission. Except this time, you were alive, and Veritas has no idea what to think.

You’re the first one to break the silence, whispering his name. “Veritas?”

Hearing you say his name feels like he can finally breathe again. “Y/N? Is it really you?”

Before you can even answer his question, he engulfs you in a tight hug, breathing in your scent. Veritas held you like his life depended on it—because at this moment, it felt like it did. He says the words that have been on his mind for the past few months. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry darling. If only I hadn’t-“

You pull back from the hug, putting your pointer finger against his lips as a signal for him to stop talking. Barely even registering the endearing name that he called you, you smile, cupping his cheeks before sighing tenderly. “I’ve forgiven you a long time ago, Veritas.”

He only hugs you tighter, coming to a revelation that only makes the pain in his heart ever worsen. He saw your lifeless body himself, he paid respects to your body at your funeral… and he laid your favorite flowers on top of your gravesite where your body rested, even though those flowers were supposed to be an apology gift. “You’re… not real.”

“I’m still in Penacony, right? This is all a dream.”

You smile, nodding in confirmation. “Nothing truly gets past you, does it? You’re dreaming what you desire the most right now.”

“I promise you that we will meet again, Veritas. it will not be today, but the day will eventually come, and I’ll be waiting for you every step of the way.” You breathe in deeply. “But right now, you need to wake up from this dream, before it's too late.”

He’s not sure if he wants to wake up, though.

“But what if… I just want to stay here with you?”

“We both know it’s not what you really want.” You can see right through him. “If you stay with me in this dream, you’ll be living nothing but a simulated life. I may be here with you, but you’ll never truly fill that hole in your heart, because I am not Y/N. I’m just a creation of your deepest desires, and you know that I’ll never be her. That is not a life worth living.”

“I know she would want you to live your life to the fullest, to truly experience things, to teach your students unforgettable lessons… so they become great people like you.” You pause, looking right into his eyes. They’re filled with pain, sorrow, and the desire to cling on to the past. “And when your time comes eventually, she will be waiting for you. You will apologize once again, because you never got to apologize to her before she died, but she has forgiven you long ago, and it’s all because…”

Despite that, you have to teach him that it’s time to let go. “She wants you to remember that she loves you, Veritas Ratio.”

“Still, I want you to remember that… I love you.”

A tear rolls down his cheek at your words, and then another…. and another. “Even if I don’t know how to apologize?”

You let out a watery laugh, nodding your head. “Even if you don’t know how to apologize.”

“Then… I will do as she asks. It is the least I can do to make up for what I’ve done.” He says, and he takes a deep breath before his next words. “Can I… hug you one last time? Even though you aren’t… actually her.”

“Go ahead, Veritas. But I’m afraid that after this, you have to let go.”

You need to let go.

He nods before wrapping his arms around your figure. It was such a vulnerable act, like a man putting the entirety of his heart and soul out for you to take. He breathes in your scent, wanting to take it in once last time before he has to bid you goodbye. You feel a few of his tears staining your clothing, but you pay it no mind. 

How many tears has he shed for you since you’ve been gone? Not enough. He doesn’t feel that it’ll ever be enough.

When he opens his eyes, you’re slowly fading away from him. There’s a melancholic smile on your face, your eyes meeting his—filled with pain, sorrow, a desire to cling onto the past, and yet… a hint of acceptance.

“Still, I want you to remember that… I love you.”

Yes, he remembers. And he’ll remember your words for the rest of his life, until the moment that he leaves this cosmos on his deathbed. He’s just hoping that you’ll wait long enough for him to say it back.

Before you’re about to fade away completely, you lean in one last time and whisper to him…

“It’s time to wake up, Veritas.”

He wakes up from the dream pool with a gasp. The water splashes around him, and a few stray tears roll down his cheeks. 

The rest of his actual Penacony trip went by surprisingly smoothly, and he doesn’t mention the dream that he had to anyone. It was like a secret shared between you and Veritas–and he was going to treasure that secret forever. 

And now, the Charmony Festival has commenced, and the fireworks have begun. As he watches the sparks explode into thousands of dazzling rays of light above, he pulls out his phone to text you. Almost like one final goodbye, because he knows it’s what you would’ve wanted.

“I love you too, Y/N. I will love you my entire lifetime–past beyond the boundaries of eternity, even after all the stars long die out in the cosmos.

I long for the day that we will meet again… because then, I’ll finally be able to tell you this confession in person. For now, I hope you can continue to find the patience to keep waiting for me. 

…Until the stars align, and we’re able to see each other once again.”

He looks up to the endless bursts of blazing rays lighting up the night, mixed with the eternal shine of the cosmos. It was truly a sight to behold. And for a split second, he could feel someone by his side watching the fireworks with him. It warmed his heart, even if it were just for a moment. 

“Aren’t these fireworks beautiful, Veritas?”

“They will never be as enchanting as you, Y/N.”