Prelude (Side A): If I Was This Way
One Year Ago
He snuck a glance at his twin, feeling the weight of his own blade grow heavier in his hand as he watched the boy before him wield a similar weapon with such ease—it was almost as if the sword had melted into his grasp and had become a part of him.
Perhaps he would have been able to pull off the same moves if he chopped his brother's arm off and stitched it to his body. The fleeting glimpse of dark humour faded as soon as it had come.
"Avis?" The teenager noticed that his partner had lowered his weapon, and he sheathed his sword with a concerned expression lining his face. "Is anything wrong? Why did you stop?"
The boy's words jerked him back to reality, and he tightened his grip around the hilt as he raised the blade once again. "Nothing, Aiden. It's just..." he cast his gaze to the ground, a scowl tugging at the corners of his lips. "I'm not even in the army. Why are you teaching me how to use a sword?"
A moment of tense silence paused as his brother flinched at the condescending tone his twin had used, but a smile crossed his face nonetheless. "Because Hoenn's infested this place," he shrugged. "Whatever you work as, you're in danger. You have to learn how to defend yourself."
Avis' reply was bitter. "I'm sure you're overthinking," he bit back. "It's been months since Hoenn was angered. Besides, you shouldn't say these things when you're dating a Hoenn girl."
"Lillian moved here because her hometown wasn't safe," Aiden defended. "I'm not saying that all of Hoenn are bad. But still, it wouldn't hurt to—"
The teenager opposite him cut into his speech, his sword clattering to the floor as he looked away, unable to meet the warm blue gaze of his brother. "I appreciate the thought, but I've never been good at using a sword," he muttered. "Anyway, I have to go now—I have work, and I'm sure you're busy too."
Neither of them paid mind to the few seconds where both of them stood stock-still, as if waiting for the other to make a move, but the purple-haired boy then broke the awkwardness and bent over to pick up the discarded weapon.
"Right. You have a shift at the herb shop," Aiden sighed. "I guess it can't be helped. We'll continue another day when I get the time."
Running a hand through his slate-blue hair in a last-minute attempt to neaten himself, Avis' cold expression softened as he shook his head. "Thanks, but I don't think I want to continue. It'll be wasting both of our time."
His brother simply flashed him a small, sad smile, as if he knew just what he was thinking about—and that irritated him because he didn't. "Alright, then." He fastened his cape around his shoulders once again. "I guess I can't force you. Tell Yan I said hello."
"If I remember to." A soft murmur of acknowledgement was the last sound in the room, and the both of them never took their gaze off the ground as they left.
§
"Hey, Yan." Avis nodded to the shorter girl behind the counter, watching as her furious hands moved at an impressive rate to pack bottles of liquid into boxes. "What work is there for me today?"
A stray yelp of wait a minute was his answer, the teenager pushing the finished order to the side before turning to face him with a tired grin. "There's been a ton of pre-orders," she huffed, tying her rose-grey tresses back as she spoke. "It's mostly packing—could you handle that and the counter duties while I go to the garden?"
He nodded, and the teenager responded with a relieved word of thanks before disappearing through the back door to deal with her own work.
One glance at the messy list taped to the wall sent his lips curving downwards, and he set about collecting items for the first order stated, his hands automatically moving to the correct shelves and retrieving the glass jars as needed.
Pre-orders...that means that they chose to use mail. Avis' frown deepened as he lost himself in his thoughts. And that would mean the situation between Kalos and Hoenn is getting worse. People are too scared to even come to the shop to get something.
"Are you worried about your brother?" A sweet voice snapped him out of his half-daydream, and he looked behind him to see Yan loading another carton of burn medicine onto one of the lower shelves. "The war is only going to get worse. Hoenn's not going to stop until the mystery attacks do."
"I'm not worried about Ai—" There was something unrelenting in the girl's grey eyes that made him pause, however, and he bit his lip before rephrasing his sentence. "Fine, I am. But it's just because he's far too soft. His kindness will end up killing him."
A knowing smile played on his coworker's lips as she scribbled a name on yet another cardboard box. "You know, you should let him know that you care for him. I almost feel sorry for the guy sometimes—he's forced into a lot of things."
"Whatever," he grunted back, taking the large container from her and carrying it over to the pile of cartons in the corner.
He was just answered with a quiet laugh, and the two of them worked in silence for the next few hours with only the occasional interruption for a murmured request or command.
Yan was the first to speak again, and he jumped from his position in the corner—kneeling down and out of sight behind the counter—but he then realised that she was just talking to a customer. He caught a glimpse of the stern-looking man, quite definitely Hoenn from his broad features and slight tan, and decided to stay where he was until he left.
"That was one of the guys who head Hoenn's military force." He got to his feet to see a rare scowl flash across the teenager's face. "He's threatened my fath—I mean, the shop manager before, so we pretty much have to supply him with herbs and medicine."
"I see," Avis mumbled, and avoided the sharp glint in his friend's gaze—he knew that she wasn't very close to her father, and seeing such an expression on such an easygoing person would unsettle anyone. "Is there anything else that needs to be done?"
She closed the box in her hands, focusing her unhappiness on the loud thud produced by the carton and turning to glance at her partner. "I think that's the last one," she stated with relief. "I guess you're dismissed now. Unless you want to help with the actual gathering of herbs, that is, and—"
"Thanks." The blue-haired boy cut her off before she could go on a spiel, pushing the door open and cocking his head at her. "I'll be seeing you tomorrow at the same time, then. Bye."
"I'll be expecting you," she chirped back, and her pleasant tone and kind eyes were the last thing he saw of her before the door swung shut again.
§
"I'm home."
He was answered with silence and nothing more, but that was to be expected. He didn't remember being welcomed with any of those comforting words since he had turned sixteen, and it had never bothered him in the slightest.
However, when he turned the corner and ran into his mother, both of them startled just a little—but he reminded himself that he didn't care about that fact much anymore, and passed her in one swift motion.
No hurt expressions formed as the woman made no move to respond, and the two of them continued on their way as if nothing had happened; as if they were strangers and nothing more, and he made his way to his room without much of a fuss.
It's as if they've forgotten they had another son. The thought came to him with surprising nonchalance and a spark of dark humour, but he pushed those words aside. They'd never had much reason to notice that he existed—he supposed that it was his fault as well.
Not bothering to head to the shower, he fell onto his bed with a tired grunt, violet eyes staring at the white ceiling and not focusing on anything in particular as he let his mind go blank for a few moments.
The trance was broken by a cut to his face, and he held back a stiff yelp and shot into a sitting position, shooting a glare at the amused Doublade hovering next to his bed.
"Hurting others isn't funny," he protested, but the Pokemon made a rustling noise of disagreement—and the two of them had a staring contest for a few moments before the creature gave in, floating closer to him and letting the boy stroke his two pink tassels.
The both of them were then interrupted by the loud creak of a wooden door, and Avis looked up to see his brother entering.
Suppressing an annoyed sound from the back of his throat, he lay back down on his bed, slamming his face into his pillow to avoid looking at his twin in any way.
"You had a long day, didn't you?" Aiden's tone was soft, and Avis moved to grab hold of a blanket before his brother could throw one over him.
The boy spoke again. "I know you're awake, but you want to be left alone...I guess I'll take a bath first, then."
Just as the shuffle of footsteps signalled him turning around to leave, he couldn't resist shifting his position so that he caught a glimpse of his twin's bloodstained cloak—he couldn't tell whether it was his or his enemies'—and tired posture.
The door clicked shut once again, and it was only then that he dared to sit up and drag his knees through a tangle of sheets so that they fit under his chin.
He stayed like that for a good while, with Doublade sensing the change in mood and deciding not to be the mischievous prankster it was most of the time. When he did get up, he moved like a zombie; he walked in a haze without any clear aim, and before he knew it, he found himself at his brother's bedside, hand loosely wrapped the hilt of the blade on the ground.
Avis then froze, letting his grip linger on the handle's cold surface before letting go of the sword—just as he had done earlier that day, letting the metal clatter to the ground—and he prayed that Aiden wouldn't hear the noise.
He resisted the urge to let out an uncanny laugh as he nudged the weapon back to its original position and jerked back so that he was on his bed once more.
What in the Distortion World was that? It was meant as more of a rhetorical question, but that didn't stop him from trying to answer the question. Was I seriously so stupid to believe that I could even try to be like him?
His cruel mind was right. Aiden had always been the better one out of the two of them, and it was natural that he was forgotten and left behind in the boy's shadow.
His gaze had turned to the blank ceiling once again, eyes dull and glassy as he tried to search for something else to ponder on; something that would destroy the emptiness and robotic ways of the life carved out for him, but the canvas before him held no answers.
He wasn't sad in any way. There wasn't anything that would make him sad, but there were no events that he could call happy either.
There was no mistaking the stray thoughts running through his mind as he'd held Aiden's sword—if I could hold a sword properly, if I could be so kind and sociable; if I could be just like him, would things be different? Would my parents remember my name? Would—
With an angry sigh that escaped his gritted teeth, he closed his eyes, letting the knife-like questions evaporate into nothingness as he welcomed the land of unconsciousness.
(And if he'd looked at the door, he would have seen his twin, standing at the room's entrance and watching his silent conversation with himself—all with a remorseful expression on his face.)
§
apologies if it's confusing!! i edited the first chapter to say "in media res" which is a technique to start off in the future and then go back to the past?? but I'll be going back to those events of last chapter really soon, don't worry!!
Critiques welcome and thanks for all the votes and comments!! ^^
~ nyxia