Accidental Friends | A BTSxReader friendship fic

Chapter 38: Believe in human progress

Having been walking for many hours, stimulated by a huge number of interesting exhibitions, and laughing a whole bunch, I was already tired when I unlocked the door and I ended up falling asleep early. I fell asleep before Hunnie even reached home. Therefore, when Saturday morning comes around, I find myself sitting alone, leaning against the kitchen table at four a.m., brainstorming and drawing the assignment Professor Lee told us to do – due today – that I've been ignoring, neglecting and postponing for as long and far as I could. Don't think too much. Over-thinking, bad! Simple, good! I repeat those lines constantly in my head, even humming it like a mantra and by the end of it, I finish all of the form, most of the list, and I feel like a caveman going ooga-booga from the lack of 'is' particle in the sentence. Whoever thought cavemen speaks like that. Seeing how quite a number of languages get simpler over time, though retaining their previous more-traditional words, I would guess that they spoke like high-rank aristocrats in the Victorian era, using the most specific words in their vocabularies and spending their post-hunting, cooking-break to come up with more overly-detailed words that apply to too many things but in only one very specific context. But then again, they had to be efficient because, well, possible animal attacks. 'Constant vigilance!' or something like that. Which means that they probably steered away from the empty pleasantries and went straight to the point. So instead of saying, 'this child's best forte lies in his idea and the love for the academics, and it would be a shame to waste such a great talent to a task such as hunting where there are enough qualified people', I would imagine they would have a no-nonsense attitude and say, 'you're dreadful at hunting, so do something else before you endanger yourself and others.'

Getting side-tracked with possible sophisticated-cavemen-phrases, it takes me a long time to finish the latter half of the graph. I try to keep it simple. Only a few milestones and many smaller ones. I wrote things like 'Barista of the Month', 'perfecting latte art', 'creating a new beverage', and 'remembering the name and orders of all the regulars in the shop'. But that's about as far as I get. I can't really think of anything else. I set down my nib pen – yes, I'm using it at every chance I have – and turn around to make myself a second round of tea. This isn't going to work, at least today. I'm better off spending my time reading a book.

***

By seven a.m., and approximately ten chapter into theories of ethics in the modern world which consists of a deep reading of William Du Bois and other pragmatist philosophers, I stumble upon this paragraph about Du Bois' 'Believe in life' that I really like. The writer wrote, "'Always,' Du Bois writes, 'human beings will live and progress to a greater, broader, and fuller life.' This is a statement of belief rather than a statement of fact. It is as if Du Bois is saying that we must believe in the possibility of a fuller life, or in the possibility of progress to be able to progress at all. [...] Du Bois goes on to say that the 'only possible death' is to lose one's belief in the prospect for human progress."(1) I smile at the thought. As someone who believe in the same thing, that people should always progress all their life, I can only do one thing to honour such a well written paragraph. I pick up my pen and the pretty notebook I haven't touched in a while. Flipping gently through, I stop at the last page of Operation 'Let's be happy together' and write on the very bottom of the page: 'the only possible death is to lose one's belief in the prospect for human progress. Believe in life.'

Suddenly, a yawn start appearing of the bedroom signalling the awakening of, well, Hunnie.

"Y/n?" she says groggily.

"I'm here," I shout all the way from the round tea table. I wonder what time she got home yesterday. She did say that yesterday was a busy day, or at least supposed to be. "What time did you arrive yesterday? I fell asleep before you even reach home."