"Victor, it's Toria," the girl said, knocking three times on the door of the room, very lightly, as if the metallic sound of the knocks could barely be heard. "Can I come in?"
It was 7:07 p.m. Victor was organizing his luggage. At that moment he was folding his clothes to place them inside his duffel bag. They were among the last things he had to arrange before leaving for the new military base the following morning.
The boy stood up and turned around as soon as he heard the knocks on the door. When he heard the girl's voice, a small smile appeared on his face. He opened the door more slowly than usual, so much so that the creaking sound was far more pronounced and prolonged. It was as if he were preserving some kind of surprise effect.
Once the door opened, Victor was immediately struck by the non-military clothes the girl was wearing: the perfect combination of a white tank top tucked into very light ripped baggy jeans, with a blue shirt with lighter stripes worn over it. For some reason, to the boy that outfit seemed to match the girl's emerald-green eyes and also suited her dark brown hair, perfectly straight, falling just to her shoulders.
"There you are! I thought you weren't here. You weren't answering me."
Victor stood there dazed for a few seconds too long, staring intensely at her face. A moment later, blinking repeatedly and muttering an "oh...," he snapped out of it and began gently scratching the back of his neck.
"I know, sorry..." he then said, turning toward the room and looking at the nearly full duffel bags, the messy bed, and the desk, whose lamp was turned off. "I'm really disorganized... and when I concentrate, I completely tune out the world."
"Tell me about it..." the girl said, chuckling. "With everything I do during the day—patients of every kind—sometimes I just want to lock myself in my room, put on a pair of headphones, and collapse on the bed."
Victor laughed softly. They were more sincere laughs than usual.
"Did you finish packing?" the boy asked.
"Yes, I did..." Toria said with a slight tone of fatigue, glancing briefly to her right for no particular reason while leaning against the doorframe. A moment later she noticed some figures at the intersection at the end of the hallway who seemed to be spying on her. She didn't want to jump to conclusions right away, but the faces looked very familiar. More precisely, a boy and a girl who, judging by their hair and facial features, seemed to be Duncan and Raiko. As soon as they realized they had been spotted, they hid behind the wall.
"But aren't those—?"
"Who?" Victor replied, stepping closer to look.
"No, no! Never mind," Toria answered impulsively, almost stopping the boy, who looked confused for a moment.
"Anyway, yes, I finished packing..." Looking again at the boy's bags, Toria made a mock expression of despair, slightly squinting her eyes. "But how can you be this organized?!" she then said jokingly, pretending to cry and lightly hopping in place. Victor laughed at the scene, and shortly after, Toria herself laughed too.
Once the laughter ended, a brief silence followed. The girl took on a rather serious expression, staring down toward the boy's stomach, still with a small remnant of a smile that slowly became more visible and pronounced. When she raised her gaze to Victor, it had already returned fully to her face, completed by bright, glossy eyes.
"I'm used to handling things on my own, not depending on anyone... but I think that without your support I would've struggled twice as much to feel okay."
Those words almost stunned the boy, who became extremely puzzled and confused, yet gratified by what she had said. He didn't know which emotion to show first, settling into a fairly neutral expression, widening only his eyes.
"What did I really do, after all?" the boy said. "I think everyone has willpower, and you're a girl who has plenty of it. But I'm glad to know I've been supportive to you, and it's been nice for me to stay close to you as well."
Toria looked at the boy, smiling. She knew he had a very reserved personality, so those words seemed like the most she could expect from him in that moment.
"...And it's thanks to you that I'm doing well too. The only good part of this whole great odyssey, besides seeing my friends again, has been meeting you."
Toria laughed awkwardly when she heard those words. She seemed extremely moved; her eyes became very bright, almost as if she were about to cry.
"Are you about to cry?" Victor asked, confused.
The girl didn't answer. She quickly stepped forward and hugged him. Toria's arms wrapped around Victor like a sheet, holding him by the shoulders and upper back, while her face rested against his collarbone, letting him feel the gentle pressure of her lips and the warm breath from her nose.
Victor did the same, without saying a word. He wrapped his arms around the girl's waist. At first he felt embarrassed placing his hands there, because he didn't want to seem too heavy or even inappropriate. At that moment Toria pulled away slightly, took his hands, and quickly placed them just above her lower back before returning to the same position as before, hugging him even tighter.
Victor tightened his hold as well. As the seconds passed, his grip became firmer, the embrace stronger.
Suddenly, he sensed a strong scent. Pungent and persistent, yet pleasant—so much so that Victor was shocked, though he chose not to react. He liked that sensation; it completed the moment. He didn't know what it was, nor had he ever known it.
In fact, it was almost as if he didn't want to know it.
As if he were pushing that memory away, already blurred and distorted.
Victor closed his eyes, relaxed by that sensation.
Immediately, beams of light alternated with scenes from his childhood, experienced in first person. The most beautiful moments, serene and perfect. His father lifting him into his arms, joking with his sister, the affection of his mother. Everything was silent. Everything was beautiful.
Finally, the silhouette and radiant smile of a girl.
Victor suddenly opened his eyes. In front of him, Toria was looking at him strangely, yet happily.
"Is everything alright?"
"Of course. Everything's fine," the boy replied.
"I have to go now..." The girl held Victor's hands, squeezing them and gently massaging his fingers with her thumb. Her eyes were full of life, almost radiating an intense light that Victor let himself be blinded by with immense pleasure.
"See you tomorrow. Bye!"
Finally the girl let go of his hands, letting them slide between hers and creating a delicate friction as she walked to the left. Only a few moments later she turned around, smiling at the boy and waving with her right hand, which the boy returned. He watched her walk farther and farther away, becoming smaller and smaller in the corridor as she moved with a cheerful and carefree stride, slipping her hands into the pockets of her jeans.
***
5:46 a.m., June 25, 2054. Victor walked beside his companions, positioned between Duncan and Nikita. All of them, including him, wore neutral expressions, their gazes fixed toward the end of the long, wide corridor that led to the base airport's landing strip. The place was crowded, and the heavy, hurried footsteps—together with a few murmured voices in the background—were the only sounds dominating the scene.
Victor was practically at the front of the crowd and was among the first to cross the exit threshold. Ahead of him were Lieutenant Abner, General Cannizzaro, and Major Ranieri, leading the group.
The first lights of dawn, although they almost blinded Victor due to the sudden change in brightness, were beautiful. The sky stood halfway between darkness and light. In the fading night, a few faint stars were still visible, and one of them, as everyone knew, had to be the Remnant. The Moon was about to disappear, suspended between night and day, only partially visible, though still luminous. And finally, the sun itself—the manifestation of human hope and rebirth since ancient times. The representation of the perfect force that balances darkness and keeps it contained. The awareness that, even though the world seemed to be on the brink of collapse, another day had in fact passed—another day to mark on the calendar.
"Wow..." Duncan exclaimed, looking up at the sky.