2 Prologue (Marc Antony)

Marc Antony didn't like breaking promises. He didn't like doing a lot of things — like breaking the rules. Rules like rule number four on the Codes of St. Clair: Don't get caught stealing food from the teacher's lounge.

He didn't know why the rule was 'don't get *caught* stealing food from the teacher's lounge'. He also didn't know why such an unimportant rule ranked higher than a couple other more important rules.

But he figured a reason presided somewhere.

There had always been a reason. Kind of like how the number one rule on the Codes of St. Clair was "Don't stand on the school roof". (Some guy fell off the railing. He most likely jumped... But no one talked about that)

Anyway, he didn't like breaking promises. Why? Because he never did. When he was seven, he promised his best friend he'd walk on the railing of Windstorm bridge. (It'd taken him a week to walk all the way across, after falling over twenty-three times.)

At eleven, he promised to learn how to draw his late mother's portrait. (It took him a year and even after realizing he lacked an artistic talent, he hadn't quit.)

At fourteen, he promised to climb the rope in the middle of their middle school gym. It didn't matter that his thin body couldn't handle the stress. (He'd also broken his arm a week before.)

Recently, because of a dare, he'd confessed to a girl he didn't like. (She'd looked at him strangely before running away like a frightened bunny.)

The point? Marc Antony was a man of his word. He'd been a man of his word for almost ten years. And of course - he'd thought of stopping, but after a while, it'd become instinctive. So instinctive that trying to break a promise caused him emotional and mental pain. No matter how stupid or meaningless.

The easiest way to fix this problem was to stop making promises. Unfortunately, that wasn't as easy as it should have been.

***

"Marc Antony." Biming Smithfield walked towards him with his messenger bag swung over his shoulder. His dark brown hair waved added to his handsome appearance. He looked like a Chinese celebrity with minute western features.

It made Marc Antony cringe.

He sighed and turned around. Biming always wore an indifferent expression on his face. He didn't mind, though. No one bothered him with Biming by his side.

"Are you going to the library?" Marc Antony asked shouldering his own bag and brushing his curly red hair out of his face.

"Hmm," Biming said. He waited patiently while walking past him.

"May I come with you?" He asked, smiling while following behind him.

"Sure." Biming let out a small smile. Marc Antony shook his head while speeding up his walk.

***

Biming and Marc Antony had a weird relationship. They'd met in their middle school's basketball court. Marc Antony had run into Biming attempting to play basketball by himself. Biming's ball had flown into his face and broken his nose.

'Memories'

Biming hadn't been as good-looking back then as he was now. He'd been awkward and short and cynical. Marc Antony had been even shorter and awkward and shy. Not surprisingly, Biming had wanted nothing to do with him. Until one day, Marc Antony promised Biming something he dearly wanted.

They'd warmed up to each other after Marc Antony revealed his promise issue.

In their eighth year, Marc Antony had moved away to live with his grandparents and hadn't come back till two years later. As a result, a lot of things changed.

Biming had become ridiculously handsome, and Marc Antony had become taller. Way taller. He was so tall that even the tall Biming had to look up to him. His hair had become even more of a red curly mess and he'd begun wearing glasses.

Needless to say, they'd become as far apart as pink from blue. But as time went on their relationship became more stable and they began studying together again. Biming used Marc Antony as a steady rock. He liked that if he made Marc promise something he wouldn't break it. He liked that he always listened and never pushed anything onto him.

Marc Antony liked that he had someone willing walk with a freak like him.

They weren't exactly friends, but they were the closest thing they had to friends.

It was sort of sentimental really.

***

Biming glanced at Marc Antony through the corner of his eye before turning away and sighing. He ignored the gazes from other people and brushed his hair out of his eyes. Humans didn't cause him irritation. He just felt a little distrust towards them.

Not everyone though. Just a few. Like his family, excluding his father and aunt. And his classmates, excluding Marc Antony.

He glanced at him again. He considered Marc a friend --- sort of.

(He hadn't forced him... Sort of. He still felt conflicted about that)

At times Biming had a hard time believing in their friendship. Other times he worried that he would one day break their promise to each other. (Even though he knew that it was practically impossible. It was an impossibility among impossible. An Impossibility equal to an ugly duckling becoming a swan... A downright horrible analogy.)

Biming sighed again and pulled his messenger bag closer to his chest. His uniform crinkled a little and he frowned. Again.

Biming wasn't a very calm person.

***

They'd been studying together for four hours. (Translation: They'd been reading a book on pencil sketching for two hours, sleeping for an hour and a half, and quizzing each other for half an hour.)

They hadn't been very productive.

"I've never been very good at drawing noses," Biming admitted, leaning on his hands. He had a drool marking on the corner of his mouth, but Marc Antony wasn't about to point it out... Yet.

"At least you can paint," Marc Antony said, leaning back in his chair. He stared dazedly at the ceiling. "I don't have much artistic sense, but sketching calms me."

Silence.

"... Hey."

"Yes?"

"Are you worried about the tomorrow?"

Marc Antony looked up in confusion. Their relationship wasn't one where they talked about personal feeling, worries, or family. It was always more shallow. Yes, waiting for each other, meeting up, standing up for each other, and talking was a thing. But this was a little more on the personal side.

Tomorrow was December 21. [The Day of Blessing].

The day every child at the age of seventeen waited their whole life for.

To receive their gift.

"Uh..." Marc Antony leaned back forward and straightened up. He hadn't meant to be slow to answer, but he'd never considered being asked this question. "Yeah, I guess."

"What do you want?" Biming asked before wincing. "Sorry--"

"To fly. To be unfettered. To eat without getting fat." He admitted finally.

Biming laughed. "How did you go from flying to worrying about your body image?" Marc Antony blushed slightly. "I want a box."

"A box?" Marc Antony asked confused.

"Just think. A box that gives you exactly what you need each day. You might not even know you will need it. It might be completely random, but you'll need it sometime in that day. It basically predicts the future for you and hands you one thing. It might be a paper-clip to hold a dress together. It might be a dollar or even a plane ticket."

"Just what you need for that day..." Marc Antony looked up. The library lights were unusually bright today and he found himself getting lost. "I never thought of that."

"Me neither," Biming shrugged. "I got it from this one guy who got a wallet that gave him five dollars in the morning of each day. And if he didn't spend it, it would disappear the next morning. At first, its uselessness frustrated him. But then one day he used it to buy water for a thirsty runner. The next day he was five dollars short to ride a train. Another day he lost his job and used the five dollars to start a lending business. In the end, the five dollars represented an infinite amount of possibilities for each day."

"I remember that story. I j-just... I never thought much of it."

"Me neither. I guess... I've been doing a lot of thinking lately."

They left the library awfully quiet that day.

***

[The Day of Blessing] was a peculiar day.

No one knew when the phenomenon first began. It always happened to every seventeen-year-old on the same day. Long ago, no one thought much of it, until people began asking questions. Some scientists even tried to calculate the chance of getting a specific gift but failed. Finally, Charles Caraway put forth the theory of circumstance and potential regarding [The Day of Blessing].

Depending on where they were in life and what their unknown destiny was, a person would receive a gift befitting their circumstance. Each gift had a purpose, but whether the gift was used in accordance with that destiny, was up to the person.

In conclusion, Dr. Caraway's theory put forth three points:

1) All gifts had a purpose.

2) All gifts had a giver.

3) As a result of 1 and 2, a specific plan existed for each gift and person.

Take the man with the five dollars a day wallet. The gist he first deemed useless became a life saver and a life lesson.

One man received the ability to breathe underwater. The man was absolutely terrified of drowning, swimming, and anything water-related. But one day his mother told him there was a reason he could breathe underwater. After barely overcoming his fear he saved a child's life underwater and found a love for extreme water sports.

A female scientist's gift took away all her scientific knowledge. Devastated, she almost committed suicide. Her psychologist suggested searching for her another gift inside her brain. Because of this, she found two other languages firmly imprinted in her memory.

(Strangely enough, someone else gained scientific knowledge. He lost his ability to speak two languages that same day).

In each of every one of these stories, they all found a higher life purpose and meaning. Essentially, it was up to the person if they found what their gift was trying to show them.

A gift could be anything and no gift was useless. It might appear like a curse to some, but at the end of the day, it was to the benefit of the human being. Not meant to harm but to aid.

One of the more peculiar gifts is the system gift. Its many forms include voices to give out tasks, screens to quantify specific attributes or ingrained calendars.

This particular gift has a huge are for misuse and this story revolves around two such people with a gift like this.

But far more... Promising.