CH #7 - A Win for a Loss

"Miss Suzuki? ... Miss Suzuki?"

An unwelcome voice was heard as periodic three light knocks on the noble wooden door echoed through the room.

"What is it?" The girl replied with an answer of rather harsh tone, wearing one of her long black socks.

Hearing the young woman's response, the woman on the other side of the door stopped her knocking, altering the way she addressed her.

"Breakfast is served at the table right now. Please don't take longer than necessary. Orders from the boss."

She took a deep breath. There wasn't much to do but accept those conditions. Such "orders from the boss" would haunt the girl to the end of her life if she didn't follow them.

"Understood."

The maid then left the hallway. Lira looked away from the large room, wondering about things that belonged only to her own reality.

A big room; one almost possessing a landscape of its own. The place occupied by her in the moments of sleep had a large window, much larger in every way compared to those in ordinary houses. The ambient was large and spacious, filled with various decorations, most of them still remnants of childhood.

A large brown teddy bear rested on the wide bed of pale sheets, and several other animals such as cats and rabbits were arranged along the walls, in wooden niches painted in a friendly shade of rather dark white.

The walls were colored in a gentle shade of pink, which mixed with white, guaranteed a good luminosity to the space. The room had a large white wardrobe, a desk with a computer, and, finally, a large mirror in which she analyzed her own image.

"Orders from the boss"… That was the same everyday small talk she was so tired of. Lira couldn't keep herself serious as she stared at her own image, while her face quickly deformed into the usual expression of disgust and dissatisfaction with everything that exists.

In heavy steps, she left the room, opening the door to face the reasonably large and imposing hallway. It was a big house, and on the way, the chandeliers illuminated the passage of some of the servants in the place.

"Good morning, Miss Suzuki!"

The couple maids and butler, one by one, greeted the girl as she walked. Lira didn't answer any of them. She had a clear reason for not paying them any heed – a reason many could call "rebellious attitude" – and it was only a few meters inside a specific room in the place.

She opened the large doors, arriving at the place's dining room. A large table with all kinds of food arranged, from fruits to breads and a stupid amount of cake varieties, along with boiled eggs and various types of juices in glass jars.

In short, a heavily exaggerated place for a place that few people used to frequent.

A small white ceramic plate, cutlery and an empty glass was all she stared at. Lira sat in the chair exactly opposite the one occupied by that figure, and did her best not to face him.

What would he want with her? Why then did he, of all people, call her there?

The overweight man clad in a business suit closed his eyes, and after taking in a great portion of air in a noisy and annoying way, let the judgmental words escape from the perpetual gap between his lips.

"Lira, I'm disappointed in you."

She remained silent, that expression stamped on her face. It wouldn't do any good to say or do anything, or at least not yet.

She watched patiently as he withdrew a folded sheet of paper from his pocket. With his long, slender fingers, the man unfolded that white page, revealing what was engraved on it. He turned the written face of the sheet toward Lira, immediately pointing out the problem he saw in the situation.

"Your grades are dropping, Lira. In the last two months, the average was A, while in this one, it appears as B+. What's happening to you? Not studying enough? Or are these friendships you are finding at that school? Whatever the problem, let it be solved now."

The tone of his speech was filled with passive aggression, a subtle mode of verbal violence, almost entirely imperceptible. It was remarkable to her the way he strove to keep himself polite.

"How will you be a successful person if you can't even have perfect grades? How are you going to take over the company if you don't have the capacity to manage it? How will the family legacy continue if you keep behaving like that, Lira?! And furthermore, my biggest concern... Who is this boy you're talking to?"

Hearing the last question, the girl froze in place. Her face was locked there, eyes wide, lips slightly parted. Just how in the world had he managed to figure that out?

He then pulled another paper from his pocket, which when unfolded revealed to be the printed text messages she had exchanged with Cast in the past few hours.

"Who is this 'Cast Cravache'? I don't like this boy... Lira, if you ever talk to this guy again, I swear I'll have to take action!"

She looked down. He had no right... He had no right to do that! The damned son of a bitch had set his servants to literally spy on her.

Lira's head boiled with bubbling hatred. He didn't have the right.

How dare he? All these years, she remembered never having seen him as a father figure. That man over there was never anything remotely close to a father, in fact.

As long as she could remember, that man had never seen her as a priority in his life. The job and the company he ran were always more important than her or her now deceased mother. From a very young age, he continually forced his ideals on her, forcing Lira to pursue a career after his death, to take over the company and lead it to new economic horizons, immortalizing in her reign.

Essentially, he never raised his daughter, and never treated her like one.

... And now, he saw himself in the right to act like he was her father? After 17 years of treating her like a machine...? No love, no affection at all?

"Given the situation, I'll give thought to what she said about sending you to Washington. Maybe it could cure such insolence."

He shouldn't have done that. He definitely shouldn't have thought to say a single one of those words.

Lira got up. Her face was still turned down, but this time, something was different. The girl closed her mouth tightly, baring her teeth in great hatred, while the hair covered the most important part of what happened here.

Nobody was going to take her out of that town, after all, there was no person in the whole big house with the power to do so.

The girl pounded the table with all her strength. That always happened when her emotions became too turbulent.

Lira looked at the man who brought her into the world, and...

***

"…So you ended up leaving your old man so depressed that he doesn't even have the motivation to get up from the chair and start the day? Wow… I liked the sound of that!"

Cast took another bite of the flaky popsicle he was consuming. He and Lira were talking while taking a walk in one of the school's gardens.

It was still early, so the students occupying the garden were scarce. They could talk aloud without fearing being overheard by the awkward nature of their conversation.

Lira, in response, hugged her shoulders with both palms, holding back as much of the emotional turmoil that was taking over her mind at that very moment.

"It always ends up happening when my emotions get out of control... Whether it's when I'm stressed or irritated... Or even too happy... My power tends to get out of control..." She spoke, more to herself than to Cast.

Lira's "special power" allowed her to manipulate the human emotional state. It can cause and remove emotions from a person just with the use of their mind. She could also use this to determine how other people feel.

"Oh! I see now! I get it!" Cast jumped in place. "That's why you look like a furious kitten half of the time!"

Pointing at her, Cast soon noticed as Lira showed her teeth, in clear displeasure when it came to what was said.

"… Although, in the other half, looks like a furious puppy…"

"You better take that finger back… Before I decide to bite it away."

Cast respected her feelings, and instantly ceased the teasing. He knew it wasn't the right moment, even if some of the boy's actions and words said otherwise.

"Why feelings? Why, out of all things, my superpower had to be controlling feelings? Literally anything else could see more practical uses..." She pondered, looking at her own hands.

However, the thing about said power was that Lira was unable to use it to her advantage, and when her own emotions were in turmoil, "accidents" often happened as a result of losing control over the skill.

And above all things, Lira couldn't understand it – the reason for feelings being the power that promised to push her forward. Even Cast's illusion ability seemed better and more useful than that.

"Huh… And that's when you end up messing with the people around you, isn't it? Glad I wasn't around to see! Your dad had to be a real asshole to make you explode that much!" Cast spoke.

Lira looked at Cast with an annoyed look.

"He's not my father..."

"Uh... Wasn't he the one who literally helped placing you in the world Didn't knock up your–" Cast snapped, pointing at her with the Popsicle, which dripped, only to be interrupted.

"I said he is not my father. I dare you say that again." She replied in a tone colder than the popsicle that was almost at its end.

Cast gave up, closing his eyes and smiling a little as he walked.

"Hey, do you know why the chicken crossed the street?"

Cast broke the silence by asking a question that couldn't be more idiotic and poorly contextualized. Knowing the nature of that old joke, Lira responded confidently.

"To get to the other side. Seriously, Cast. What a time for idiocy…" She said, not amused, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course not! It crossed because it felt like doing it, dammit!"

The joke itself wasn't funny at all, but just the fact that it was told by him made a slight smile threatening to form on her lips. Cast noticed her attempts to try to appease an urge to laugh.

"Why, but what is this? You laughed?" He asked, teasing the young woman.

"Of course not! I wouldn't laugh at bullshit like that."

Cast moved closer to her, almost speaking in her ear.

"Yes, you laughed! I know you laughed! These wrinkles don't lie!"

She looked up at him, meeting his eyes.

"If I laughed it's because the joke was too stupid, just like that face of yours… And I didn't expect it!" She said, clearly running out of valid excuses.

Cast then placed both hands on his hips, and puffing out his chest as he looked up, said something rather proudly.

"Why! What would you expect from someone like me? The only one – today and forever – Cast Cravache!" He boasted humorously. At that point, only spotlights generated by an illusion were missing.

She closed her eyes, and a smile curled her lips.

"You idiot..." She stated only to herself, in a low voice.

Cast listened to some of what was said and tried to clarify what he heard.

" 'What' idiot?" he asked, clearly continuing the friendly annoyance.

"I said that guard at the entrance gate looks like a idiot!"

Cast placed his hand on his chin thoughtfully.

"Huh... It's true... He kinda looks goofy! You know… The mustache and all!"

"Just like you!"

"I don't even have a mustache…!" He protested. "The follicle gods unfortunately didn't bless me with the holy full beard, meaning that your argument is invalid…!"

Ignoring what he said, Lira used a couple fingers to tickle the underside of Cast's ribs, generating a jolt of tingly laughs that made him jump.

So that's how it's gonna be, huh?! Get ready! I'll tickle you to death, rich girl!"

Cast braced and raised his hands, curling his fingers inward partially, mimicking claws. They both let their notebooks fall into the gravel path, and Lira started trying to get away from Cast, who was chasing her for lovely torture.

"I'll catch you!"

"I want to see try!"

And so, that pair of students who seemed crazy in the eyes of everyone else lived their momentary reality in that space, an environment of safety and welcoming. There, there were no major concerns about life at home or anything else. It was a paradise for many.

... Mainly, hers.

***

The atmosphere was different that time. Instead of the coziness of home, the white on the walls and the various electrical appliances used to maintain life were all that filled the room, and instead of comfortable silence, there was only the constant and awful "beep-beep" noise that repeated itself every second in unsettling frequency.

The cold of the metal bars caused a shock of temperature, and the functioning heater not only failed to do its job, but annoyed and filled the room with agony by itself. There fell a numb atmosphere, which generated a lump in the throat. Being there caused anyone to be consumed by an extreme urge to scream.

A sound, and the door to the room had been opened. A second very similar sound followed the first, and it was closed.

The steps were slow and careful, almost as if keeping the room in almost perfect silence. Involuntarily, that person tried to make as little noise as possible.

Headache. Confusion. The woman, seated, looked at the floor. A thread of hope curled around her heart, warming itself to receive the news to come.

The man in white clothes stopped there, a few meters away. The gray-colored floor, made of painstakingly polished and leveled white concrete to the point of shining, further highlighted the luminosity of his figure. In his hands he carried a sort of portfolio, containing a collection of papers and exams.

One of the bluish light bulbs blinked. That was the sign that allowed the silence to be broken.

"Mrs. Martinez. Here are the test results."

He handed her a handful of papers. In a hurry, the woman could not contain herself, and quickly tried to check each indicator.

Eagerly strumming page after page, a strange pattern repeated itself. Everything was strangely normal. The exams indicated that all and each of the values were in the adequate ranges. It was almost as if nothing was really happening.

She looked up at him with that hope manifesting in her wide pupils. However, the doctor's eyes were completely different from hers.

Why?

Seeing that, the feeling began to fade away, fainting to nothing.

"What is happening? Everything is normal... She has nothing! How is my daughter like this?!"

Her despair was quickly understood by the professional. He also didn't know how he was supposed to react to that. The doctor just closed his eyes, taking in a great deal of air.

"Exactly. She has nothing... Your daughter has no apparent symptoms of anything we know. We were unable to make any diagnosis, and for all intents and purposes, it is fair to say that she has normal health."

His voice was mysterious but immediate and direct in stating the facts, and that only made the woman standing there even more insistent on knowing what was going on.

"So… How?!"

Tears formed. It was not possible to hide the pain. Her eyes begged for an explanation, something she could believe in, something concrete and probable – something real.

"The exams do not indicate a single thing... She has no problem..."

The doctor got up. He could no longer maintain the moderate coldness necessary for his profession. An echo filled the room, one generated by the sound of his fist's violent contact with the tiled wall.

"Nothing nothing nothing! Exams say nothing! There is not a slight change in any single indicator! Nothing...! And that... That's what haunts me the most..."

His voice was filled with anger. Not anger towards another person or a thing, but hatred towards oneself. He again resumed his posture, and as he wiped the sweat from his face, the man clad in white looked straight ahead, calmly saying what needed to be said.

"Mrs. Martinez... I will only say this once... Please pay attention..."

He again took air for himself. The woman couldn't take her eyes off him. What would such revelation be?

"Your daughter... Will die tomorrow."

The words came out dry and to the point. The sound of the phonemes together was unbelievable. For the first few seconds, there wasn't even a reaction on her part.

"This started about three weeks ago in Elderlog, and we don't even know how it got to such a remote place such as this... It is… Something strange, to say the least, and completely undetectable that is happening to a few people in this town... Several records in the whole world are being noted, and still there is not a traced cause to this… ' Great Dying'…"

The man had to take some air. As a doctor, having something so dangerous and that seems entirely undetectable is like a poor joke, one in which his long road of dedication and studies are the punchline.

"In all my years in the profession, I've never seen anything so horrible. People who were in perfect health the day before... Dead the next day..."

He continued after a short pause.

"It is a condition completely unknown to medicine, and which apparently affects several regions of the globe, and seems to be spreading quickly enough lately, to the point of reaching even Elderlog… The tests do not detect any signs of illness and microscope inspection of blood or other fluids indicate no pathogen, even though we know there is a pathogen… There has to be…!"

Clearly struggling to keep his composure, the doctor scratched his head for a couple seconds, trying to calm down.

"Yet, the suffering is visible... Severe shortness of breath, pain from headache, intestinal hemorrhage and a fever so terrifying it literally steams your neurons, and the worst part is that it doesn't seem to reduce by a single degree, no matter how much antipyretic medicine is administered..."

Unfortunately, what came to calm the man's explosive anger at his apparent incompetency was not hope, and even less any level of professionalism. It was despair.

"Something that we can't see, that we can't track, that we can't study or even attempt to trace a pattern on how it kills people… Because… That's all we know… It kills, and a lot."

Listening to that gruesome story, Mrs. Martinez couldn't help but grab the doctor by his lab coat, shaking him violently as rivers of tears escaped from her brown eyes. He didn't react, knowing that there was no point in trying to tame a mother's anger, no matter what words he used.

"What do you mean… What do you mean 'die'?! How can you be so sure of this? Saying these things... Saying it like it's natural?!"

He immediately continued to speak.

"Ma'am, this is the only grand hospital in town. All people victimized by whatever it is – from a sprained ankle to a full cranial trauma – They all end up here. And with that, I can assure you of one thing: none of the people who entered the hospital with these symptoms and signs made it out alive... And trust me… If even the entirety of Europe doesn't have the most minimal clue on how to fight this thing, don't expect to find such hope here, in a countryside town."

She didn't want to hear that. Numbers or data didn't matter. So what if many have already died? So what if almost everyone who gets this strange disease ends up losing their lives? So what if it can't be fought? It was a selfish thing to think about, but the woman only wanted her daughter's life.

"You have to try to do something... Save her, somehow... Save my daughter... Don't let my Phoebe die!"

The doctor could only remain silent. Mrs. Martinez bent over the comatose body of her daughter, who, connected to all those machines, was under threat of a sealed fate. She cried heavily, repeating the girl's name as she held her hand tightly.

"Phoebe... Phoebe...!"