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For most people on the Surface, the idea of the ocean was just a distant dream. Something that’s sometimes heard about, but never personally seen. It’s only reasonable. The distance one would have to travel to reach the shoreline is immense, and those of the Surface don’t have the luxury to go so far for merely a pretty sight. The only people who would bother are those ready to leave everything behind, or fools.
Libel was a fool.
That was what Qual thought, as he heard Libel regale Arme with memories of his trip to the sea.
“You know that oasis we took you to before? It’s a little like that, but way bigger. It’s bluer than you can imagine, and goes as far as you can see.”
Arme laughed, a clear sound that always improved Qual’s mood.
“That sounds wonderful! I would love to see it myself one day…”
Libel smiled. Qual had a bad feeling about what he would say next.
“Then let’s go see it,” Libel said, as if it was the simplest thing in the world.
“Oh no, not again,” Cura interjected. “We’re way too busy for you to go on a sightseeing trip to the sea, of all things. It was bad enough having to cover for you while you were missing, and the situation now’s even worse, in case you forgot about Misericorde.”
He sighed.
“So that means no spontaneous trips for any of you.”
Libel met Cura’s eyes with his straightforward gaze, and said completely seriously, “I know you can handle it.”
“Could you stop that? You’ll send me to an early grave with all the work you make me do.”
Qual stayed silent for a second before speaking up.
“... Cura is right. There’s no time for something like that.”
“See? Even he agrees.”
Arme looked slightly disappointed at Cura and Qual’s rejection, but quickly brightened back up.
“Well, perhaps some other time.”
“Sure. I’ll take you whenever you want.”
“Were you listening just now?” Cura said in exasperation.
The atmosphere was bright and lively, but Qual kept his silence on the sidelines.
“Qual,” Arme spoke from where he sat on the grass, fiddling with something Qual couldn’t see. “Why do you stay so distant?”
Qual’s posture stiffened against the tree he was leaning on. Distant? Had Qual been falling back to old behavior, and failing in his friendship with Arme? He could have sworn that he was doing everything right, doing his best to treat Arme as an equal, properly calling Arme by his name instead of his former title–
“Ah, my apologies. I meant distant from the others.”
A quiet sigh of relief left Qual. He spoke after a moment, the chirping of birds acting to fill the silence.
“I don’t have anything to say.” It’s said that the best of lies contain truth.
“That can’t be true.” Not good enough of a lie to fool Arme, however. “You had so much to say to Libel before, even when you didn’t like him.”
“I still don’t like him.”
“Then what is the difference between then and now? If your feelings haven’t changed, then I can’t understand your current way of acting towards not just Libel, but the other members of Rebellion.”
Arme’s voice took on a tone tinted with sadness.
“We’re all allies now, are we not? Libel and the others were kind enough to give us a place to belong after we left the Ark, and now we all fight for the same cause. Even if it’s difficult, every day is enjoyable when spent among friends and allies. But you insist on being detached from it all.”
“That’s…”
What could he say? How could he explain this feeling to Arme? What would Arme think of him if he said it? (Still thinking only of preserving your own emotions? How deplorable.) Would he understand? Did Qual even want him to understand? Arme’s condemnation and compassion would both be unbearable. His heart ached. He wished he could tear it from his chest.
A warm breeze swept through the sunlit glade, causing Arme’s hair to gently sway along with it. Standing under the shade of the trees, Qual felt cold.
“You’re a dear friend to me, Qual. I just want you to be happy.”
Qual’s gaze lowered to the dirt beneath his boots as shame took a hold on his heart. That tightness in his chest intensified when he felt Arme’s eyes on him. The grass rustled as Arme made his way to meet Qual.
“... I already am.”
A small hand gently held Qual’s. He kept himself from flinching at its warmth.
“... We’re friends, Qual. I don’t mind if you can’t speak about it, but I would rather you not lie to me.”
Qual’s face fell. He felt pathetic.
The scent of fresh flowers wafted through the air as Arme’s other hand moved to wrap something around Qual’s wrist.
“It’s apparently something called a flower chain. Libel had told me about it some time ago. Isn’t it pretty?”
Qual’s gaze bore into the clumsily made ring of flowers adorning his wrist. It must have been what Arme was making earlier.
“It’s wonderful.”
“I’m glad,” Arme said, his smile audible in his words. “I wasn’t sure if there was anything I could do to help you, but I still wanted to at least try to lighten things for you, even if it’s something as small as this.”
Arme’s hands softly wrapped around Qual’s own.
“You look so tired lately, Qual.”
Qual felt sick.
If someone were to categorize aspects of Qual’s life up until now, the only sections of any mention would be his time serving Arme, his former duties as a soldier of the Unity Order, and training. Though, perhaps now Qual’s responsibilities as a member of Rebellion would count for such a thing. That being said, it wasn’t like he placed any importance in pondering over his life in such a meaningless way. There were too many things to be done to spend his time on idle thoughts.
And just a few feet away from Qual was someone who had even more to do, even if he wasn’t acting like it.
Libel stared wordlessly at Qual as he struck the training dummy before him. It was unnerving. It always seemed to Qual like Libel said too much, always getting on his nerves. Never hesitating to bring up exactly what Qual doesn’t want to hear. Despite that, this lack of speech was just as unbearable.
Well, if Libel wouldn’t say anything, then the responsibility falls to Qual.
Qual paused from his training and took a step back.
Without looking at Libel, Qual spoke.
“What is it.”
“Do you have any hobbies?”
The speed of Libel’s reply made it clear that he’d been pondering over the question for some time.
“I–” Qual’s voice stalled abruptly as he turned to face Libel in shock. As always, Libel simply gazed at him with a serious expression. His sharp gray eyes seemed to pierce through Qual.
He stood there, silent, jaw dropped, for a moment too long as embarrassment welled up inside of him.
“No?” Libel said with a slightly apologetic expression.
“I—wasn’t expecting the question. If I… have free time, then I’d rather spend that time on something productive.”
Libel let out a low hum in response, and left it at that.
Qual lowered his eyes.
“... What about you?”
“Me?” Libel sounded genuinely surprised.
“Who else?”
A frown appeared on Libel’s face.
“I just…”
“Wasn’t expecting it?” Qual scoffed.
Libel laughed slightly, and smiled at Qual. “You got me there.” Qual’s eyes darted away.
“Well, I enjoy traveling.”
“... That much is obvious.” Why had he even bothered to ask? Of course Libel would say something like that, with how much he talks about loving the Surface. Even if it causes trouble for everyone else. It was irritating. It’s not like there was anywhere worth going in a place like this.
“There’s plenty of places worth seeing down here,” Libel said.
Qual didn’t intend to say that out loud.
“In the forests there are all sorts of beautiful plants, in about any color you can imagine. You can see grassy fields shimmer under the morning dew as you breathe in the crisp air. The desert sands glitter like gold under the sunlight, and the oases…”
Libel spoke with such warmth and affection in his voice. All for a world that Qual couldn’t ever imagine holding such love for. Something like guilt prickled at Qual’s heart. His grip on his baton, still in his hand, tightened in tandem.
Oblivious to Qual’s feelings, Libel continued. “Oh, remember what we were talking about before? Why don’t we go see the ocean sometime?”
“There’s no need for that. There were places in the Ark where it could be seen clearly as long as someone tried.”
“Did you ever try?”
Qual stayed silent at the question. He could practically feel Libel’s amusement from where he stood.
“Thought so. In that case, I promise to take you there one day. I’m sure you’ll like it.”
“... Do as you like,” Qual said with a sigh.
Libel, usually impassive, looked so happy with himself at that moment. Why did Qual agree?
On occasion, Qual would find himself praying.
It was strange. He had never held the teachings of Nerve in high regard, his worship reserved solely for Arme. But he never... considered Arme as a god. And Arme held no mystical powers.
(Aside from—)
There was no point in prayer. The divine was fabricated as a way to control the people and excuse Nerve's wrongdoings. Qual knew this to be true. If there truly was some higher power, surely—
(Surely it doesn't have to be this way. Isn't it unfair?)
Perhaps it could be attributed to Qual's upbringing in the church. A routine of devotion that held no weight in his mind and heart, but one he spent his years perfectly playing out. The retention was as simple as putting his hands together, or closing his eyes. The verses then would flow naturally into his head. It was almost sickening.
And yet Qual prays.
“If it isn’t Qual.”
Reue spoke from where he stood in the doorway, the lights illuminating him from behind.
“Playing hooky? I thought you were a more responsible man than this,” Reue’s voice was clearly teasing, with a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Arme and Libel were looking for you.”
“... I thought you didn’t like playing the middle manager.”
“I’m not. I was just passing by and saw a certain someone sitting alone in the dark, away from the celebration meant for him.”
“It’s not—meant for me.”
Reue gave a slight hum. Qual didn’t want to think about whatever he was trying to imply.
“Is that so? I could have been fooled, with the way they were talking. I believe it was something about a former Unity Order member saving the day on the battlefield?”
The frigid night air stung Qual’s skin as Reue spoke.
“Libel, in particular, seemed to want to share a drink with him. It’s a shame that he’s nowhere to be found. Or, rather, trying to not be found.”
Reue’s words held a question, unspoken, that seemed to poke and prod at Qual.
Qual’s eyes remained fixed on the night sky, illuminated by—
“Are you missing the Ark?” The former Unity Order commander said, now beside him.
The former soldier briefly looked to his old commander, before turning his gaze back to the stars.
“I don’t regret leaving,” Qual avoided the question.
Reue’s stare felt piercing.
“... What Nerve was doing was unforgivable. And what Mas… what Misericorde wanted for Arme wasn’t something I could allow.”
Qual’s words sounded weak even to himself. It wasn’t as if they were untrue, but…
Something in Qual’s heart felt strained.
Reue let the silence sit between them, and Qual felt as if he was back in Reue’s office, awaiting a scolding from his commander. Back up on the Ark, so far away from the Surface.
Everything felt so clear back then. Qual was an elite of the Unity Order serving the honorable cause of defending their home. Defending the Ark. And that, along with serving the Celestial, was what was important to him. He carried out his duties so fervently, believing wholeheartedly in what he was ordered to do. All for the Ark’s sake.
It was easy. The violence expected from him was easy. He killed those that clung desperately onto life, thinking of them as less than the dirt beneath his boots. That which was ordered of him, and that of his own volition. How many times was impossible to count. He had never considered his own memory to be lacking, but he couldn’t remember a single one of their faces. It was likely that he had never tried. Maybe it was a way of preventing guilt from sprouting in his heart. It came naturally to him, much like his duties as a soldier. He was always commended on that sort of thing.
That pride he felt then was now like a shard of glass embedded in his chest.
“It’s good that you don’t regret it. For me, I rather like it here,” Reue said, voice light. “Libel is a much easier boss to work with than Misericorde, after all.”
The stars in the heavens above, now unreachable to them, glittered silently.
“But still, the Ark was comfortable.”
It’s your turn to talk , the air seemed to suggest to Qual.
“... It was.”
“Do you find the celebrations here to not be to your taste? Leiden, at least, seemed to be having fun.”
“That’s not,” Qual’s words stuttered, “the issue.”
“Are you too caught up in your own guilt to enjoy yourself?”
Reue’s question mercilessly struck right to the heart of the matter.
Qual’s expression subtly twisted as shame filled his being.
“I don’t want to sour things for them. Even back on the Ark, there were complaints about the people finding me intimidating. By removing myself from the situation, they’re sure to enjoy themselves further than if I was there.”
That wasn’t the problem. Both of them knew it. The look that bore into Qual asked, is that really all?
“If that’s what it is, then that’s fine. But I didn’t think you were the type to give up so easily.”
Reue’s tone was firm. Qual felt like a child that had disappointed an adult. In the back of his mind, the memory of white hair and violet eyes pricked at him. He vaguely wondered if Schau had ever felt like this. While Qual stayed silent, Reue continued.
“You’re not a bad guy, Qual. Or, at least, what you’ve done isn’t unique to just
you.
You, me, Leiden, Schau—all of us—were complicit in Nerve's actions.”
“And yet they,”
the people we killed and oppressed,
Qual couldn’t say, “accepted us.”
Accepted me,
a disgustingly self-centered part of Qual said.
“Yes, that’s true. But drowning in your guilt won’t undo what’s been done.”
The things he’d done could not be erased. No matter how ardently he wished they could.
“But we’re allies now. You’re strong, Qual. One of our strongest. If you really feel so pained, then use your strength for the sake of salvation. Just as you have been.”
Qual knew that Reue was right. That was all that could be done, wasn’t it. Attempt to repent for what’s been done. Fight for the salvation of the Surface and its people that he had loathed. Part of him hoped that he would never be forgiven.
Salvation… a bright and shining word, filled with the hope that tinted Libel’s voice whenever he spoke of this world he loved so dearly.
It was Libel’s intent to save the world. Everyone here knew about it. Those impossible dreams of his were exactly why he was able to captivate the hearts of so many. Even—
Qual cut that thought before it could bloom.
“Well, that's enough of that,” Reue said as he let out a yawn. “An old man like me needs rest.”
Meeting Qual's eyes, Reue showed an enigmatic smile.
“If you still have doubts, I'm sure our wonderful leader would be happy to listen to them. Libel seems to be fond of you, after all.”
“Do—”
Qual called out as Reue made his way back into the building.
“Do you ever… harbor such doubt?”
Reue's hand rested on the doorway as he stopped. The lights from within cast a harsh silhouette of him, making his expression impossible for Qual to catch.
“Who knows?”
Sometimes,
Qual would find himself envious of Libel.
It was stupid.
Libel always shone brightly, with passion and conviction enough for them all.
He always seemed so certain in everything he did.
Was it possible for Qual to become someone like that?
… No, of course it wasn’t.
The others would say that the two of them are surprisingly similar, but in Qual’s eyes,
there was a fundamental rift between the two of them that could never be bridged.
For as much as Qual admired Libel, he could only watch from the side,
coveting that unreachable light.
The warm breeze smelled of salt as it seemed to carry away all of Libel’s burdens.
Clear blue waves gently lapped at the shore, before retreating back to the depths.
The sun was radiant in the heavens above, shining on all equally.
It was a beautiful day.
The sort where someone could really think,
“I’m glad I’m alive.”
“The world really is beautiful.”
“I’m happy I was able to see this,
with you.”
—If that guy was still here, would he think the same?
Libel could only wonder.
Within his hand was a golden ring from all that time ago, still retaining its shine after so many years.
Well, it’s not like Libel would’ve done anything but take care of it.
It’s small, but it’s a precious memento.
He could still remember when Qual had given it to him. Even though their relationship had improved so much, he still wasn’t expecting it at all.
It was a little funny, in a way.
It was a bit regrettable, in a way.
That Libel could only take the memory of Qual here.
Though he couldn’t fulfill it in the end, he never forgot that promise he had made to Qual.
Even if Qual was reluctant to agree, Libel was serious about it.
“I want to show you how beautiful this world can be.”
Did Qual’s opinion ever turn in the end?
Was he able to love this world?
Libel could only hope so.
After all, Qual never was honest with his feelings.
“—Libel?”
Before he knew it, he was rooted in place, gazing out to where the waters met the horizon.
Arme had walked ahead of Libel, and was looking back at him curiously.
The simple necklace around Arme’s neck, adorned by a single amber gem, glittered in the sunlight.
Just like that guy’s eyes, Libel thought absentmindedly.
It seemed like both of them were carrying Qual with them, even after so many years.
“Sorry about that. Let’s keep moving.”