To Perceive an Image

Fifty-Two: Images of a Blurted Demise

The Image World, October 26, 2040, 9:00 AM.

He's alive.

I scoff in my disbelief.

He said he was alive.

My eyes narrow with a look that throws my doubt at him. I also shook my head for good measure. The overwhelming emotion and my inability to show to register his words as reality were the reasons for my giggles.

Noir shook his head, "you know damn well that no one called you Zai except for me. Accept the fact that I'm alive, it'll do you good."

Okay, fine, say it's sinking in. The next question to ask is, how do I react?

If this person standing before me was the best friend I knew, forget all the physical and emotional boundaries I set throughout my life. I would lunge at him in seconds and hug him while sobbing on his shoulders. But the person he grew up into is nothing like the one I considered my idol.

The one who revealed all components of his mind to me, even if we were kids. Our insight exceeded all at such a young age. We were the wisest nine-year-olds in our time from how we acted and thought. The things that other kids excluded us from were our conversation prompts. I was the only one protecting him from the world when it deceived him. There was no one else for him to run to when his fear flashed before him.

He hated getting outsmarted; it scared him to death.

For that reason, any time someone that wasn't me did something he didn't expect. I was his solace. However, I am not that solace anymore- haven't been in a long time.

The same nostalgia that hit me when we got here hit me again. At least there are means I can use to reminisce about the Image World and its people. I clutch the reassurance that they still exist. But the Noir I knew was never coming back, and that hurt more than anything. I have no means of reassuring myself about his righteousness.

I let myself take the route providing me with unsuitable reactions. Yeah, I might reconsider them later, but I can't now. There's nothing I can do about the delay of feelings for the corresponding situation caused by my brain. So, I'll cherish that smidge of composure for now.

"Okay, yay for reunions. Before I let my emotions overtake me, will you tell me why you did all of this?"

Forget the hint of anger accompanying sadness. Desperation for finding a logical reason shows in my body language. Walking closer, so I'm about two feet away, I move my head in various ways to maintain eye contact with him. He will look me in the eye while he explains everything, and I don't care if it makes him uncomfortable. His amount of discomfort doesn't equal the amount of deception in him.

At that moment, he broke. He let out my apparent sins, ones he thought were a good enough reason to justify his inhumane actions.

He delivered every word with a shout in my face, eyes spewing more venom than that of all snakes combined. "Because I was supposed to fucking excel, but you just had to deceit me and sneak yourself a victory."

I look at him with confusion, asking him what he meant by that. He scoffs, "of course, you don't remember." I raise my eyebrow, annoyed at his lack of explanation now when I needed it the most.

"Okay, I don't have the memory of a fucking wizard, so talk and remind me."

"The Excelling Students convention for sixth graders we got asked to join, even though we weren't in middle school yet. Remember the promise you gave me to not ace it or to try hard on it?"

Oh, that.

The second worst decision of my life is that I regret joining it.

I nod, "and what about it?"