Alto grimaces, hesitance and slight dread evident in her expression, but she nods at me nonetheless, a resolute gleam in her eyes.
"I'll answer them." (Alto)
I smile softly.
"Did you get what you wanted from that meeting? Do you feel satisfied...at peace?" (Mizuki)
She stiffens, clearly caught off guard, but it doesn't take long for her demeanor to shift to something more...knowing. She responds, her voice soft and unsteady.
"You can ask me more than that...I know you have to be curious." (Alto)
I shrug, my eyes not leaving hers.
"Perhaps, but...those are the only questions I care about. At least, until the time comes that you want me to ask more. To listen." (Mizuki)
Those are my true thoughts...feelings. Not because I don't want to know more about her past, or don't care about what she may have gone through. It's not even because I don't think her past is important – it's clearly having a huge effect on her, even now. Rather, it's my attempt at...reciprocity, I think.
Much as Nina once asked me about my family and connections back on Earth, in the context of whether I'd like to return, Alto has made a similar inquiry before. Both of them must have been curious about why I had no burning desire to see my parents again, about the reasoning behind it, yet...neither asked, nor have they repeated that line of questioning since. They respected my implicit aversion to discussing it. So, I want to give Alto the same grace.
I know that, even if she doesn't consciously recognize it, her aversion to discussing these things may have at least as much to do with how she feels about herself as it does with how she feels about her parents or whatever they've done. That's what's kept me from talking about my parents, at least, if I'm being honest with myself.
Unlike Alto, I suspect, my parents weren't outright hostile towards me. They were just...very distant, especially as I grew up. More absorbed in themselves than the son they deemed to be nothing like them, I've felt. Yet, that's not so egregious, I think, so I don't hold anything against them. I wouldn't feel pitied or ashamed if the others knew that I had rather detached parents. Rather, it's how I feel towards them in return, despite their lack of malicious parenting, that I don't want to present to others, or perhaps even contemplate too long myself.
I simply don't care about them. I don't yearn for them to take an interest in me, or to spend time with them, or even to see their faces again. I'm not even sure if I'd be sad if I returned one day to find they'd died of natural causes. That's what I'm hesitant to admit.
Even if they weren't the warmest parents, shouldn't I feel those things towards them? Isn't that the default, deep-rooted psychology of a child, to be attached to their parents? Even abuse victims struggle to let go of the love they feel for their parents or their spouses. Yet, here I am...no love, no anger, no resentment...just, ambivalent to my core towards them. Like they're not even my parents. Like I'm an orphan who was handed a stock family photo and told I'm supposed to fit in it.
That apathy, I suppose, is what scares me. No...it's not that it scares me, but that I know that it should, and yet doesn't. The fact that I don't feel the way I know I should seems...wrong, on a fundamental level. I've attributed my recent sensations of distance and inhumanity to my immortality and abilities, something that's happened to me after arriving on Azura. But...this sense of wrongness, my lack of emotional response to killing people, how I've mostly ignored any suffering outside my social circle – it all makes me wonder if maybe I was missing something distinctly human all along.
I'm...uncomfortable with that possibility. And by extension, I'm hesitant to discuss the relationship with my parents that reminds me of it.
So, while I doubt that Alto's hesitancy to articulate her parental misgivings derives from my specific reasons, I recognize that she could still be avoiding some ugly truth about herself, real or imagined. Her not wanting to talk about her past may have nothing to do with distrust or discomfort towards me.
As I'm immersed in these self-reflective thoughts, Alto grapples with my statement in her own way. Her eyes glisten in a rare display of emotion, surprise and gratitude flickering in her expression as she studies me silently. However, to my surprise, her expression eventually turns remorseful, and she speaks, her voice soft with guilt.
"I am sorry...for not warning you, at least, about what you all were walking into today. I promise, it wasn't because I didn't trust you..." (Alto)
I smile reassuringly.
"Don't worry...I know. Besides, you did warn me – last night, in your own way." (Mizuki)
Indeed, though I would have preferred a less cryptic warning, I can't deny that her strange confession last night was helpful, after I made the connection. Helpful in navigating the unexpected situation, and in being supportive the way I wanted to.
She gives me an exasperated, knowing smile in return, her tone full of self reproach.
"You don't have to always give me the benefit of the doubt, you know." (Alto)
I grin playfully.
"I know that, too." (Mizuki)
Hearing my response, she steps forward and wraps me in another hug. One that I let drag on, a comfortable, appreciative silence hanging between us.
¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬
Back in the VIP room of the Mellow Elf...
Naydra Silver stares at the empty space that used to hold her daughter, eyes empty, expression one of utter disbelief. Her thoughts are a storm of shock, fear, guilt, relief, sadness, and...regret. Perhaps regret, most of all.
Regret for going along with her husband's parenting choices. Regret for not protecting Alto from his 'disownment' all those years ago. Regret for believing Setti, after Alto ran away, when he assured her that their daughter would come to her senses and return, repentant. Regret for believing that her daughter died, and eventually giving up the search for her. Regret for what her daughter went through, alone, suffering who knows what. Regret for being too much of a coward to come talk to her immediately, at the last Royal Announcement, when she realized Alto was alive.
More than anything, though, she regrets letting her daughter leave this room, just now, with all this left unsaid.
BAM!
CRASHHH!
Setti sends the small coffee table in front of them toppling sideways with a kick, sliding across the floor violently. His voice echoes in the room, furious, startling, but not quite a full scream. A fear-inducing expression of rage with just enough restraint to not alert those outside the room. Subtly sinister...the way she's come to expect of him.
"DAMMIT!" (Setti)
He lets out a deep, frustrated sigh, then begins pacing in the room, hand rubbing his chin thoughtfully, but eyes still simmering with anger.
"The audacity...the entitlement...the sheer ungratefulness of that girl! Threatening me, talking down to us like we're peasants, derailing our business meeting with her nonsense!" (Setti)
Her eyes slowly shift towards him, her lips twisting into a frown.
"Is that really what we should be concerning ourselves with right now?" (Naydra)
His pacing halts, and he glances at her, raising his eyebrows. After a moment, he sighs, brow furrowing contemplatively.
"No, I suppose you're right. The boy, Mizuki...our intel on him was severely lacking. Husband to an Elder Dragon. Magic that transports people away in an instant, without an incantation. It's all completely absurd – reports indicated that he's just a magic-less, human servant. And his attitude...he was far less docile than we were led to believe." (Setti)
Naydra gives him an exasperated look, dissatisfaction infiltrating her voice.
"Not the boy, Setti...Alto!" (Naydra)
He glances at her, disdain and bewilderment clear on his face.
"That ungrateful brat? What of her?" (Setti)
She responds in an indignant tone, her voice rising in pitch and volume.
"What of her!? She's our daughter, Setti! She's alive, she was right here, and now she's gone with no indication we'll see her again! After all these years, this was our chance to have our little girl back!" (Naydra)
He scoffs, averting his gaze, his tone growing colder.
"What's worth having back? Her disrespect? Her lack of gratitude? Her disregard for any responsibility to this family? She's spent the last near-century living who knows how, with who knows whom, doing who knows what. She clearly has neither the inclination nor the ability to be a Silver...I doubt she's of any benefit to this family at all. Honestly, I'm not even sure we could get her a suitable husband. Dressing like that, hanging all over that foreign boy, not to mention all the ways those human slavers probably violated h-" (Setti)
PAH!
Naydra brings her hand across his face hard enough to cut his words off by force, jerking Setti's head back, the sound of a crisp slap echoing in the room. He turns to her slowly, hand nursing his quickly reddening cheek, face twisted with disbelief.
"You...hit me..." (Setti)
She scowls at him, fists trembling with anger, expression twisted with rage and disdain without a shred of remorse for her actions.
To her very core, with every fiber of her being, she's reached her limit. It's a state of mind she never thought she'd find herself in, and one that she's pained to have reached, but...her daughter is more important to her. She's not sure she'll ever forgive herself for the fact that Alto doesn't know that, hasn't been shown that, but she refuses to repeat her past mistakes.
Once upon a time, her love, respect, and trust for her husband was absolute. He'd earned it.
She was from a wealthy family of high-repute that'd long since fallen on hard times, and Setti was just the son of a poor, simple farmhand that worked for her family. They were both smitten with one another in childhood, yet she didn't have the luxury of marrying for love. She was the youngest daughter of a family that was relying on her marriage into a prominent household to salvage their spiral into bankruptcy. Failure meant destitution and a life of hardship she was woefully unprepared for, and she told Setti as much, even if it crushed her at the time to do so.
Yet, he didn't move on to someone else, or beg her to reconsider, or offer condolences and sympathy. Instead, he made her a promise, an assurance – before she came of age and her father found someone else, he'd have enough wealth and influence to be the better choice. Despite how ridiculous such words of a ragged, uneducated farm boy should've sounded, she'd believed him.
Years passed, and he was the owner of the meteoric Silver Medallion Trading Company, a rising dynasty of his own. To her father, he finally offered a marriage proposal, and to her, he offered another promise – marry him, and he'd never let her suffer another burden like the one they met amidst. She accepted, deciding to follow her heart, and for centuries, he fulfilled that promise, too.
So, when he eventually wanted to mold their daughter into an heiress no matter what, saying that it was the best way to ensure a future for Alto, she trusted him. When he pushed their girl so hard that Naydra began to have doubts, to waver, and he assured her that Alto'd be grateful for it in adulthood, she believed him and relented. And when, on that fateful evening, he'd essentially disowned Alto by ultimatum, and he'd promised her in private that his intentions were good, that disowning their daughter was a bluff Alto'd never actually call, she'd been willing to wait and see...to give the man who'd given her everything the benefit of the doubt.
And that has cost her more than she can bear. All these decades without her daughter that she's despaired have burned away her faith in Setti, reshaping her priorities and sharpening her resolve against the crushing weight of regret with one goal in mind – to earn her daughter's forgiveness, if she ever gets the chance.
So, to lay eyes on Alto after all this time, to finally have that opportunity, just to watch Setti sabotage and discard it? To listen to him say such vile, heartless things about her precious little girl? To finally realize how blind she's been to who he's become, or perhaps who he always was, and once again be faced with a choice between her daughter and her husband?
Under Setti's bewildered gaze, she finally speaks, her voice cutting through the tense silence, low and threatening.
"Setti, if you ever say something so vile about my daughter again...I will ruin you. I will divorce you, I will move out, I will take half the company that you seem to prize more than our own child, and I will use it to burn your remaining half of it into the ground. I swear it to you, by as many gods as there are stars in the sky, I will do it." (Naydra)
This time, she won't have any regrets about her decision.