LAPIS :Chapter 13:

It creaks. No matter how I seem to move my left arm, the joint connecting it to my shoulder seems to continue to make a low annoying noise. I guess it means I may not be fully healed yet, but hey, I look fine, and I'm no longer confined to that bed, so might as well get back to living life. Well, sorta.

"Isugoro."

I turn in response to being called, finding that Cent is standing at the doorway, leaning against the open frame. In the midmorning light, his red hair seems to be brighter than usual as it catches the young sunlight. His brown eyes divert from the light, trying not to be blinded by its power, keeping his gaze near the ground. I don't know how to reply to him, considering that I know his opinion on my return to the Detention Sector. He heard from Sammy after she woke up, and rushed back up here just to argue the idea with me. I wouldn't say either of us won the confrontation, as Cent knew that the decision had already been made, and I knew that Cent had very good reasons for me not to go back. All in all, I guess it was a heated tie.

"I'll be back soon, ok?" I say, trying to break the silence.

He looks up, catching my eyes for the first time. In the light, they look warm, light chestnut instead of the usual dark chocolate I see often. His expression is a mixture of irritation, perplexity, yet acceptance, sighing as he takes a step closer to me. I've never liked being in this sort of situation with Cent, even when we were young. He's always so hyper and smiling, so when it turns, and his smile fades into a frown, I feel like I committed a crime. And the worst part is when I can't do anything to make it better, make the smile resurface. "You need to remember that I'm not the only one that you should be thinking about when you make these decisions," Cent comments.

"Cent, I have to-" I start.

"No, no you really don't," Cent interrupts, his tone irritated, "Isugoro, they told you many times that you weren't required to go back down there, that you could be stationed in another sector, or even another base so to make sure this wouldn't happen again." He gestures to our surroundings, the medical bed, the medicines, the bandages, the ventilator, and all else that remind of what condition I was in only days prior. He walks over to the windows, pointing outside the panes. "There is a whole world out there where you could go and not have to deal with those people anymore,” he says.

"Cent, it was only a few people," I remark, causing him to turn and look at me with annoyance, "Besides, "those people" aren't even people to everyone here. They're . . . objects."

"We're all objects, Isugoro. All the soldiers, Jeweloids, weapons, we're all the same thing in this world, in Gelus," Cent grunts, "No, not just Gelus, all of Vesperia, all of planet Earth, we are all just objects."

I’m caught off guard by his strong thoughts. I blink in surprise, trying to search his eyes to find a reasoning behind the words. Though, as I try to look for an answer, all I find is that he has set up a shield in front of his gaze. My brow furrows, feeling the weight of his opinions beginning to weigh on both of us. Cautiously, I decide to probe him a bit farther. "How can you say something like that?" I ask simply, complexed by his animosity.

Cent doesn't answer for a moment, his eyes diverting from mine. He looks back towards the window, at the high pines and rolling mountains which are cut out by the setting sun. For the first time, I can see that a lot of things have begun to eat away at Cent. He appears a lot more tired than I can recall, his shoulders slumped as he seems to let his thoughts overcome him. Slowly, he looks like he comes up with something, turning his head slightly so I can see part of his face, his earring glinting some as it catches the light. "I can say that, because I didn't make the decision to be this," he answers plainly, "I didn't plan to be a soldier, neither did you."

I find myself sighing, running a hand through my hair as I try to let his words sink in. I don’t want to have this conversation. “Are you really talking about that again?” I ask.

“Yes. Yes, I am,” Cent says, his eyes sharp as he looks back at mine, “Do you even remember what life was like before we were thrown into this hell hole?”

“Yeah, I do actually,” I retort, a bit annoyed by his words, “I just don’t like to look back at the past four years and think that I’ve wasted my life. I’ve learned things in this place-“

“Goro, this wasn’t the future we wanted,” Cent says, “Hell, we wanted to go school, we wanted to have girlfriends, and we wanted to live normal lives. I remember being upset because I wasn’t going to be able to do those shows later in the year-”

“You’re still butt hurt about not being able to perform at a god damn talent show?” I say, my perplexity rising.

“That was an event in my life I wanted to experience, Goro,” Cent says, becoming a bit defensive, “I wanted to have that chance to do something on my own for the first time. I wanted Ma to be proud of me for doing something and prove to that ass that he was wrong about me.”

I fall silent, understanding where he’s coming from. Knowing his past, I can see why he would feel that way about that one talent show. It would’ve been his opportunity to prove himself, but it was taken from him. He really has been stuck on that single incident since, and I feel bad about it, because I know there’s nothing anyone can do to change the past.

"Cent, we had no choice-" I start.

"Exactly! No choice at all! We had to become objects to supply Vesperia for this catalyst of a war!" Cent shouts, turning abruptly as it seems his rage has overtaken him, "We left our lives, our families-"

"We had almost nothing left-" I begin as I step closer.

"Almost!" Cent snaps, "I still had Ma, I still had Alya, you still had your Mom and Pa! We had something left back home!"

I feel my dormant emotions tied to the subject starting to boil a bit. "Wake up Cent! Home is lost to both of us!" I shout, "Demolished, eroded, dead!"

"Tell that to your family!" Cent shouts right back, stepping right up to me.

"My family?” I say, almost laughing at the idiocy of his comeback, “My family is a shell now!"

With that, I turn and start to walk, and do what I can not to start a stupid fight. Nothing will be changed with this argument, our situations won’t be switched, we won’t be sent home, our lives won’t be returned back to normal. There’s nothing left of that normality for us.

Cent won't have that.

"Look at you!" he scoffs, walking after me, "You're thinking with your dick! Think what could happen if they do that to you again! You'll become fertilizer like your brothers, sisters, MARCEL!-"

The boiling emotions suddenly burst through me, and I crack. I swing around to stand up to him, but I basically black out for a few moments as I allow the dormant emotions to overcome me. I come to after a few moments of blind anger, surprised to find Cent startled and holding his face, sitting on the floor against the wall. I pant roughly, my eyes wide as I look over the scene and put together what just happened. Cent slowly takes his hand from his face, showing off a fresh nose bleed, a symptom of what I assume was a strong right hook. My mind crashes to a halt as I configure what I've done, and I stagger back, tripping over a chord to the ventilator, landing on my ass with a hard thud. I grunt, and Cent looks up at me, his countenance still one of shock, but instead of bitterness, it's become pity.

I falter as I try to figure out a way to explain my actions. I feel myself sinking into my awful behavior as I let reality sink in. I feel awful.

"C-Cent, I-I-I-" I stutter.

"Damn bro, injured and your punches still sting like crazy," he comments as he wipes away some of the blood from dripping off his chin. I’m speechless as I watch him, surprised by how relaxed he seems despite what just happened. Cent seems to pick up on my shock, and he falls silent for a few moments, before he speaks again, ". . . Guess that took it a bit far."

I don't answer, looking away. Cent grins bitter sweetly, getting response enough from my face I guess. He speaks quietly as his eyes fall to the ground, "I promised never to say anything involving that . . . Sorry."

"I just punched you in the face and you're apologizing?" I comment with a grimace.

"But the punch did deter my testosterone from getting any worse," Cent answers with a short chuckle, ". . . We didn't choose to become objects."

"We're not objects, Cent," I say earnestly, looking him dead in the eye as I speak my mind, "We're people."

Cent laughs. "Well, yeah, really screwed up people to say the least," he says with a grin, wiping more of the blood off his face.

I watch him for a few moments, taking note of his relaxed aura. Thoughts flood my mind, taking me back to similar situations in which she’s done the same things. "How do you do that?" I ask.

Cent looks confused, meeting my eyes with a lighter expression as he speaks, "Do what?"

"Change moods so drastically in only seconds," I reply as I gesture to him, “You went from furious to totally calm in mere moments.”

He lets my words sink in, then shrugs. "I don't know, I’ve always been like that," he comments, before he makes another statement, “You should know that by now.”

"I know, but I've always wondered,” I reply as I find my eyes falling to my hands that lay in my lap.

Cent looks over me, before he leans back against the wall. His expression falls some, before a strange grin rises to his face. "Well, why wait to ask 'til now?" Cent chuckles.

I shrug, glancing up at him for a few seconds before I find my palms again, "Who knows, this place has made me rethink a lot things."

"True that," Cent agrees, before the room goes strangely silent. The only conversation held is between our breathing, replying to one another with calm rhythms that resonate deeper than any words could. Silence between us is always more potent than words.

"What the Hell were you two doing?!"

Cent and I blink, looking up to see Syria staring at us from the doorway, looking out of breath. Some sweat is on her cheeks and beaded on her forehead, signifying that she may have run down here. Her countenance is strained and irritated, looking relieved somehow as she watches us, "You idiots, I almost had a heart attack when you started fighting!"

"Huh?" Cent breaths.

"Don't “huh” me!" she shouts, feeling totally flabbergasted as her eyes dart between us, "The hall security camera caught your argument and whatever those loud thuds were! I bolted out of that security area to get here to make sure you two hadn’t killed each other and all you say to me is “Huh?!”

Cent and I look to each other. Well, it seems we struck a nerve.

Cent raises his hands up in a type of surrendering motion, trying to calm her down, “Sorry-“

“Don’t “sorry” me!” Syria shouts, “Besides, apologizing to me isn’t what the problem is here. Best friends shouldn't fight like that!"

Without warning, I chuckle, causing Syria to send me a sharp stare. Cent glances over to me before he shows me a small grin. "Obviously you've never seen normal guy friendships," Cent comments as he stands, "We beat each other all the time."

"That's an awful practice!" Syria retorts, huffing slightly as she looks between us.

"Syria, really, it's ok," I say, looking to see Cent is now standing in front of me, holding a hand out to me, "The fight isn't the issue."

Syria now looks confused.

"Then what is?" she replies, crossing her arms.

I take Cent's hand, using it to help myself to my feet. I look from Cent to Syria, and chuckle, "The resolve."

Syria's eyes widen in surprise, not expecting such a response. Cent and I look to each other and laugh, understanding each other. Yeah, to most, what just happened may seem very drastic and unnatural, going from almost beating the shit out of one another to happy pals in total agreement. But hey, that's just how Cent and I work.

"Warrant Officer Isugoro Jintez."

All three of us freeze. Our attention is turn towards two men who quickly walk into the room, pushing Syria aside. I can feel Cent tense beside me, knowing as well as I do why they are here.

They’re here to take me back downstairs.

"Yes, I'm aware," I say, stepping forward from Cent. Without warning, I feel something pull back on my wrist, causing me to turn back. Cent's gaze pierces mine, surprising me with its strength.

"Stay safe," he says simply.

I hold his gaze for a moment, taken back by the strength and care that burns bright in his eyes. His support gives me a bit more push to get things done. I grin, giving a simple fist pump, "Wilco."

With that, Cent smiles some, making me feel a bit better as I'm hurried out the door. Syria follows after us, shadowing each move we make. In the base one elevator, the only way to the Detention Sector, she stands close to me, and a few times, although it was subtle, I caught her glancing up at me. And, in response, I too looked back at her. She looks as she did the first time we met, her dark hair down, framing her tanned face nicely. Her white doctor's coat covers up a simple, but fitted outfit: a pale green blouse and waist high grey slacks. Why she isn't wearing the normal protocol for a base doctor is a question I can't answer, but hey, at least she stands out.

The doors open automatically to reveal the familiar eerie space before the Sector. One of the two men that escorted me down here goes to the report window, and before long I hear a similar voice.

"That boy from a two weeks back?! He wants to finish the sentence?!" I hear the Verteres man question, his tone that of shock. The man answers quietly, and the man behind the wall just let's out a breath of astonishment. Soon after, I see the black door open, and I walk in the room, sitting where I did last on the wooden bench. Unlike last time, no one accompanies me, and the door shuts me in the holding room alone. On the bench is a set of clothes waiting for me, and I quickly change into the familiar loose clothing. I look up, seeing that the lights above shine a bit dimmer than last time, looking to be losing their power to glow. I glance across from me through the mesh looking walls, and before long, I see forms moving on the other side. But, now I can't hear anything; the beings inside are silent.

Before I can question this strange phenomenon, the gate into the room opens, revealing the familiar officer who escorted me through here last time. He looks at me like I'm a ghost, probably will not able to comprehend yet that I actually came back here. I stand, and his breath catches some as he sees some the bandages under my shirt.

"Are you still injured boy?" he asks, his accent sharp.

"Not really, I'm just not fully healed yet," I shrug, "I'm fine."

"Not fully healed is the same as still injured," he comments, before gesturing to me to follow him, sighing as he speaks, "C'mon, COBALT and the others will be happy to see you."

I grin, and I walk in, met with a few gasps from the shadows. I look over to see three or four familiar faces from the ring, none of them actual fighters, just a few of the spectators. I only catch glimpses of their faces. They're stunned.

“Is that Isugoro Jintez?”

“What is he doing here?”

“Is he crazy?”

Walking farther in, I see that more from the fight, all of them in shock to see me standing, not to mention walking, and down here again. Before I can take any of their responses in, I look ahead to see us approaching the group cell that COBALT, Mally, and the others stay in. My heart beat fastens just a tad as I hear the officer unlock the door.

"Hey, why are you opening the door?" I hear Eriks call from inside.

I grin, and chuckle, shouting back, "What? Were you not expecting me to come back?"

I hear a gasp, and as I come into view of the group, I see some holding their breath. Mally stands slowly, tears beginning to well up in her eyes as she brings her hands to her face. Eriks looks shocked, probably one that bet I'd never come back. The few others that I never got to know that well look puzzled, not sure how to react.

Then there’s COBALT-

"ISUGORO?!" he shouts as he runs at me, picking me up off my feet, catching me completely off guard as my breath catches.

“Ack!” I grunt as a strange pain jolts up my spine. COBALT accidentally squeezes on my still healing left side, and I try to move a bit to escape the rising pain.

"Holy crap COBALT, calm down!" Eriks calls as he hurries out of his cell with Mally, "Can't you tell he's not fully healed yet! Let him go!"

COBALT complies; well, sorta. He does put down, before he puts me in a headlock and begins to knead my hair as if I was his little brother. "Shit man, I thought I'd never see you again!" he says with a giant smile as he finally lets me go.

"Y-Yeah, nice to see you too," I laugh as I try to catch my breath.

"Isugoro, what are you doing back down here?" Mally questions, tears falling down her cheeks as she walks up to me, "I thought that they had killed you for a short time."

I grin, and turn to her. "Hey, I'm ok Mally, calm down," I say as I pull her into a hug. She clutches the back of my shirt tight, crying silently into my chest. I grin bitter sweetly. She barely knows me, yet she seems to of been so worried.

"You put her through Hell," Eriks says, catching my attention as I see he's also walked over to greet me, his Nocan presence no longer intimitdating, "She's been so stressed thinking about if you made it that she's barely slept in the last week."

My eyes widen, looking down at her. "Mally, why did you do that?-" I start.

"I told you!" she sniffles, "Your Mama must be so scared . . . so scared. . . ."

"I'm not the only one that you should be thinking about when you make these decisions."

Cent's words from an hour ago play back in my head. I frown as I finally get what he was trying to say. I really am thick headed.

"Oh, Isugoro, I forgot to give you this."

I blink, looking up to see Syria only feet away. Wait, was she behind me the whole time?

COBALT stands beside her, looking like he just talked to her about something, as his expression has changed to cool and thinking. I look to see in Syria's hand is an envelope. She holds it out to me, and I take it cautiously, not sure what it is. Though, I know as soon as I turn it over and see the handwriting. Mally seems to notice the change of my expression, looking away so that she can’t see the contents of the letter in my hand. I hesitate for a moment, then slowly take a paper from the envelope and read it to myself.

Isugoro,

If you're reading this, then it means I was finally able to track you down through the military archive. Well, actually, that's not what happened, being perfectly honest. Cent sent Alya a nice little letter and made a comment about how you two had been stationed together again, so I used the return address to send this to you.

Sly, I know, but since you never contact me to tell me where you are, I had to take the step out of my morals. Please forgive me.

Anyway, I got word separate that you had recently been injured and hospitalized. I must admit that when I got the news, I cried out of fear that you were in horrid condition. The notice made it very clear that you'd make a full recovery and be just fine, but even so, you know how I am with these things, especially since the accident. Father was worse, he wanted to request that you be returned home at once, but I told him not to do that. I know that there is good reason why you never write, never tell me where you are or what you're doing. Father just doesn't see that all the time, as you're well aware.

I've heard through Cent's letters home that a lot has happened since you two were stationed at Gelus. You've been injured so many times, gosh, Cent couldn't count! You should just be put in your own padded room if this continues! Just kidding, but still, be careful out there Isugoro.

I, out of curiosity, went to one of those psychic women who come to town, and she told me that a great trial is coming to test you, and she made it known that this would change your life! You can choose on your own to believe it, but still, take heed of her words, the world of war is said to be one of constant danger.

We miss you, Father, and especially me. Stay safe!

Love, Mom

I continue to read her handwriting for a few moments longer, before I put away the letter without saying a word. I don't write Mom, nor Dad, it's true. I'm not one that likes to make people worry. And Mom knows that as long as there's no letter in the mail with the Vesperian crest, that I'm safe. It's something she picked up soon after I left home. Dad's a bit more impatient, and wants as much information as he can get. He's against the idea that forced Cent and I into this war, so I'm guessing he uses what information he can get from us to argue his point. He's always liked to argue.

I hold Mally a bit tighter, looking up to see the others watching me. When I catch COBALT's gaze, he seems to be empathetic, somehow looking different from the others. His expression reads more though, as if he agrees with something. I know what he's referring to.

A few hours pass, and I'm now in my bunk, looking up at the ceiling with my mom's letter still in my hand. I glance over to see that Eriks has fallen asleep on his cot, and that Mally is sewing something, looking peaceful as she listens to Eriks soft purring. Then, I hear COBALT laughing with Syria, the two still talking as they had been for a while now in one of the cells. I lean over some and look over the railing to see the back of Syria’s head, and COBALT’s bright expression. His eyes are lit up in a way I’ve never seen before, tracing her face as she speaks. He seems to hang on every word she says. From what I can see from her, she seems just as content. They seem happy together.

The words my mom wrote, and those Cent said earlier echo through my head, stirring my thoughts as I think about the future. I fall back and stare at the bars above my head. The thoughts become vast, like a sea of questions that can't be answer solely, they must be answered in a simple, but just as large way, under the same reasoning. How I know is mysterious to me, but it just seems correct to come to the conclusion. My eyes flicker, and I do come to at least one decision as the night takes me.

I believe the words my mom told me.

P.S. The woman wanted me to add this. She said you'd understand.

"Sapphire shines bright in your path. Shield it, or it will shatter like the ice that made it."