8 Trials Deep

CHAPTER 18: GROW OLD WITH ME, THE BEST IS YET TO BE

“Who are you?” RF-06 said as he looked around the room in search for the speaker, but there was none.

“Leta,” C-13 whispered, ignoring the other, “I’m sorry.”

RF-06 stared wide-eyed at the other man. He doubted what his ears heard. In his opinion, his bunkmate was not the type to apologize. He had never heard him apologize in their almost four years in the academy.

There was a time when a senior got offended by Morret’s obvious favor towards the younger cadet. They targeted him for a month before finally pushing a blame on him that he had nothing to do with. It was a choice between owning the blame and apologizing or serving the disciplinary actions. Instead of issuing an apology, his bunkmate chose to run 50 laps around the training ground on full gear. It took him a full day and a half. To RF-06, the last thing he expected was for this block of ice to apologize.

But then the other spoke again and shattered RF-06’s impression on him.

“Leta, I’m sorry,” C-13 said as sincerely as he could. He was not sure he was very successful, it was not often that he used this tone. In fact, this was the first time.

There was a moment of silence before the voice replied, “Sorry for what?”

“I’m sorry for laughing out of place that was incredibly insensitive and rude.”

“Is this sister-in-law?” RF-06 sidled to the other man and asked in a whisper while furtively looking around the room.

C-13 wanted to give the other one a beating. Honestly, he could be a numbskull sometimes. C-13 turned towards the spacious dressing room and locked the door. He could hear RF-06 shouting from outside the door, “Hey! What about the thing about shooting me?! Or I don’t mind the exploding too-“

C-06 had flicked his hand and turned the sound jammer on. No other sound came in or out the room.

Then he activated the hologram feature of the connection, Leta’s familiar figure appeared. Before she could speak, C-13 preempted her, “I know you’re still angry and I don’t blame you. Just let me give my side.” He looked at Leta, wary of any change in her expression. It was as if he was a hunter and she was a wild rabbit that would bolt if he made any wrong move. C-13 was sure he couldn’t catch this specific rabbit if she really bolted.

Leta did not say a word but she nodded. Seeing this, C-13 felt all the tension he had been feeling released. He took a deep breath, looked at her and a wide giddy smile suddenly bloomed on his face. His eyes crinkled and he had to support himself by holding onto the edge of the sandalwood dressing table. His whole demeanor glowed, the happiest she had ever seen him. But there was also a hint of teasing in his smile, as if saying, ‘I finally got you.’

This made Leta feel her repressed irritation rise again. He just apologized but he was doing it again. When C-13 saw Leta’s annoyed expression begin to emerge, not only did he not stop- he even started laughing harder. His whole frame shook and there was moisture at the corner of his eyes. It was clear that he was trying his best to hold his laughter but it oozed from his whole being.

Leta was at loss. She was incredibly irritated with him. If she was in her physical body or he was in his avatar form, she would have given him what kick she could land. And add a sharp jab for good measure.

But she couldn’t disconnect, because she was also mesmerized. He smiled and he laughed sometimes but he had never laughed so elatedly before. He looked- beautiful. Like a painting masterpiece that made her want to capture that moment and hide it somewhere time or forgetfulness could never touch.

When C-13 saw Leta move her fingers, he hurriedly raised his trembling hand while the other clutched his stomach. “Wait, please-” the appeal was preceded and followed by suppressed laughter.

“Fine!” Leta said exasperated. “But you better make sure what it is, is funny. Or else there’ll be hell to pay, “ Leta snapped at him.

When the other’s seemingly spontaneous laughing fit settled, the two sat cross-legged on the Ebony floor.

“Now, talk,” Leta ordered the man across her while glaring at him. Though he stopped laughing there was still a wide grin across his face. It was so genuine it made the man look almost- boyish. The grin grew wider every time he looked at her.

“Yes,” C-13 said, his smile displaying immaculate teeth. He locked his eyes on her and said, “Remember the last time I asked you about us?”

Leta did not answer, she could not. That was the last thing she expected him to say.

“You didn’t give me an answer that time,” C-13 continued. “But when you pulled me out of that cockpit at the last minute and roared at me like your life depended on it, you told me then. Leta, you can’t do without me.”

C-13 had his eyes, his smile as wide as it could go. Leta, in turn, was as responsive as a statue. When the statue was able to say something it was, “I-I, that. I-“

Realizing that she couldn’t deny it, scarlet peonies bloomed on her cheeks, dotted her forehead and spread on her neck. C-13’s grin couldn’t get any wider, Leta had to look away. But the other was not having it, he scooted closer and moved his face as close as possible. “I don’t know why you keep running away from this, but I won’t let you run anymore. Face it, face me.”

Leta did look at him, glared at him even. But her whole face was flushed red and she would look away every now and then. C-13 found it strangely endearing. He sighed and said, “How I wish I could pinch this tomato cheeks.” He had reached out and stretched both his hands on her face, as if caressing it. “What do you say to that, Tomato? Not ready to meet me yet?”

“I’m a buck-toothed, pock-marked, severely overweight 12-year-old girl,” spat Leta, her complexion turning into an even deeper red. C-13 erupted in laughter once again.

“Then I’ll wait for you for another 8 years,” said C-13 while assuming a look of utter seriousness. He spoke in voice as smooth as velvet, “I don’t mind being buck-toothed or pock-marked, but we’ll have to do something about being severely overweight. How about those 8 years that I wait for you, we’ll spend every day with a morning stroll? That way we have higher prospects of growing old together. Anymore?” the young man asked with a gloating expression.

“I change my mind,” Leta said stubbornly, “I’m a silver haired back-bent grandma with arthritis and a dozen cats.”

“Just perfect,” C-13 said without batting an eyelash, “I had a pet cat before. She was one sassy lady but I took really good care of her. I managed with one, what’s a dozen more? Silver hair would look beautiful on you and if you ever want to move in with me, I’ll make sure you find me in a bungalow where you don’t have to climb stairs. But we’ll still have that regular morning walk and I’ll hold your hand as we go on.”

“No this time, I’m really a cat that talks,” said Leta unreasonably. She couldn’t think of anything more and just blurted the first thing that came to her mind.

“Then I’m a catnip, give in to me,” said C-13, his smile unfaltering.

“You’re relentless,” responded Leta.

“And you’re stubborn.”

“You’re more stubborn,” the avatar bit back, emphasize on the ‘more’.

“Yes, so give in already,” replied C-13 with a Cheshire-cat smile.

Leta eyed C-13, this time honestly, without looking away. All signs of elusion or hesitation gone. She sighed, stretched out her hands to cup his face and said, “You are the one who insisted on this.”

“Yes,” said C-13 as if swearing an oath.

“I’ll break my heart and die if you ever abandon me. I’ll rise from my grave as either a ghost or a zombie, whichever is more plausible, and then haunt you,” Leta continued, completely serious.

C-13 thought for a moment then said, “I don’t like the idea of you dying before me but if you ever abandon me, even if I have to move mountains and make the heavens tremble, I’ll come after you alive and chain you to me.”

“You’re scary,” Leta whispered.

“And yet you still love me,” the young man whispered back.

“I invoke my right against self-incrimination,” evaded Leta.

There was a quite laughter, then C-13 moved his hand to over the hands that cradled his face, “I know you’re not going to say it first so I will. Leta, I like. I love you. I want you. Be mine.”

This time, it was Leta who laughed, “That was not a question.”

“No, it was not,” the young man responded. Then as if hesitating, added, “Please. You won’t go wrong with me.”

“Anymore advertisements?” Leta asked with a devious smirk. It was not so often she got the chance to tease him and she was enjoying it, immensely.

“Do you have any specific asset you want?” the young man joined in.

“I want smart, caring, devoted, responsible and drop-dead gorgeous,” Leta said as she counted it on her fingers.

“I’m all that and more, just take me already. I’m on sale,” C-13 replied, completely unabashed.

“Yes, yes,” said Leta as she contemplatively nodded, as if she really was merely buying vegetables in the market. “I guess I have no choice. Since no one is going to take you, I’ll be benevolent soul.”

“And?” the young man asked.

“And what?” Leta threw back.

“If someone says ‘Thank you’, you return with a ‘You’re welcome’. So what’s your reply?”

“You’re welcome?”

C-13 narrowed his eyes at the avatar, exasperated. “I just said I like you, I love-” his declaration was cut short when Leta frantically shoved her hands to cover his mouth. He was playing close attention to her that he instinctively paused when she moved to cover his mouth.

“Alright, alright!” interrupted Leta. Then she blushed again, the rose red tint that had receded from her face made their comeback. Despite that, she straightened her back, cleared her throat but looked away before saying, “Me too.”

The young man looked at the avatar in disbelief and said, “That’s cheating, say the whole thing!”

“You take what you can get, don’t be choosy” the avatar said stubbornly. “If you don’t want it, I’m taking it back.”

“Fine,” C-13 conceded in defeat. “I’ll let you go this time. But you’ll tell me what I want to hear eventually.”

“Then be patient and wait,” Leta replied with a laugh. “After all, you said you’re going to be with me when my hair is silver and my back is bent.”

The young man groaned, “I’m not a saint, I can’t wait that long.”

The avatar’s laughter rang in the brightly lit dressing room.

Much of the following days had relatively smooth sailing, in C-13’s opinion. Nothing significant with how they went about each other really changed between Leta and him. Except that most of the things he usually said in teasing were now said in earnest, which made the other blush more often.

He loved that feature of an avatar. The original creator of the avatar mechanism had wanted his creation to be as life-like and expressive as humans were. He tapped the holographic imagery to bond with the live user’s emotions and thoughts. Leta had more than once tried altering her avatar’s programming but the feature was hard-coded and encrypted, in the end even she had to give up. And so she had taken to forcefully deactivating the projection feature of C-13’s MA whenever she felt her face heating up.

“There’s something I want to ask you,” C-13 said he tried to draw Leta in. She had just shut his MA’s projection feature again for the second time in a day. Maybe he was teasing her too much, he had to be careful to not really step into the hornet’s nest or he would have to go for days waiting for her reemerge again.

“What?!,” Leta snapped back. “Don’t think I’ll get side-tracked too easily.”

C-13’s lips curved in a wide grin. Recently he had found himself grinning in a day more than he had ever had before he met the avatar, grinning like a fool. Initially, it had alarmed RF-06. However, when he cryptically replied that his relationship with his lover was inversely proportional to RF-06’s the other understood.

“I’ve always found Morret’s identity quite suspicious. He doesn’t want to be associated to any royal family and yet he exhibit’s more influence and power than military overachiever. Not even the director of the academy could draft me into the Trials and yet he did.”

“He’s princess Ariadne’s royal uncle. The king’s younger brother,” Leta replied nonchalantly.

There was a pause as C-13 digested this. He was not really surprised. Still he did not expect the exacting drill instructor and brigadier general to be as deep in to the royal broad as to the be monarch’s younger brother. At most, he had expected him to be an old royal family’s son or a distant cousin to the king. Who would have known that the notoriously reclusive younger brother was actually working as their drill instructor in the academy?

“And how did you find out?” asked C-13 genuinely interested.

“When the broadcast of the first trial was being aired, I took note of all the private accesses. One was from Morret’s. Strangely enough, he was able to access even the feeds that only the king and those in the control center could. Morret used access code ‘Alpha – Mike – Lima – Alpha – 8 – 5 - 6 – 3 – 3 – 9 – 1 – 0 – 4 – 6 – 3 – 7 – 4’. A in Alpha most likely stood for Adrian, M in Mike for Morret, L in Lima for Leopold and the last A for Augustus. I can’t decipher the number’s significance but the king’s younger brother has gone under the name Prince Adrian Morret Leopold Augustus.”