Breathe

Chapter 39 - Let Me Live

After the ceremony, we went back to headquarters and had dinner in silence. There was no arguing. Everyone was saving that energy for tomorrow. As for me, there was something boiling within me and after I finished, I went to go blow my fuse.

Bam!

I hit the punching bag. Hard. As hard as I could. With my hands gloved and my stance perfect, I kept throwing hits at the defenseless bag.

Bam! Bam! Bam!

If only it were that easy.

The sound of my fist against the tough cloth was the only thing that I could hear for miles. It was late at night—on a Sunday night of all nights—and there wasn't anyone stirring around. Well, except for me, of course.

Hearing the sound of the door open, I glanced over to see Luckas entering the room. But I didn't pay him much heed since, like me, he was wearing his training gear. Listening to his footsteps, I heard him grab some mitts and then walk back. His footsteps echoed low and heavy at a steady pace in the room until finally, they stopped. He was right behind me. Before I knew it, he was doing what I was doing: throwing hits at the bag. He kept at it in silence, only making some grunts here and there from overexertion. But besides that, he was quiet—just like when he was serious or had things on his mind. Then again, that was all the time.

Knowing him, thoughts about tomorrow were running through his head. While he threw some swings at the bag, he was probably thinking about how he was going to be throwing swings at the guards tomorrow. While he dodged the bag, he was probably thinking about how he was going to evade death tomorrow. Simply put, he was thinking of things that Luckas normally would. Or at the very least, what I think he thinks of.

"How are you feeling, Adair?" Luckas asked, punching through the silence.

"Feeling...alright," I replied honestly, "I don't...have hopes or fears yet."

"Yet?"

"Yes, yet."

"I don't doubt that," he remarked. I didn't know what to say. Thankfully, he added, "I'm not too sure about it myself."

"Is that so?"

With a short pause, he responded, "Yes." More punches. "Although we have planned our strategy well, there is no telling what will happen tomorrow. Going to the drawing board will only make us over-prepared, and we don't want that. But I have to admit, there are some things that I see an issue in."

"I see," I murmured, "I can understand that. What are the issues?"

In an almost mocking tone, he asked, "What? Do you think you can fix them?"

"Perhaps," I said with a downward inflection, "however, I can't know for sure unless you tell me."

"Overall, our strategy leaves a bad taste in my mouth," he admitted. "I know that there's no way that it can leave a good taste but I'd prefer no taste over this... bitter one. From what we've planned, we're planning on sending people in waves."

Unable to control my emotions, I exclaimed, "In waves?!" Scoffing, I murmured, "If I wasn't bright, I'd say that is a splendid strategy."

"It is if you want to use your best men to fight the King's men and to save the princess," he corrected. "But if you want to have the least amount of casualties, it is one of the worst ideas—I have to agree with you on that, Adair."

"If we use that plan, will we win the war?"

"If we play our cards right, yes." At that moment, he threw a kick to the bag and it came tumbling down, its thick, dirty beige rope tearing. "After that, finally, Katherine will soon be avenged. Then, our mission will finally be completed."

I held a hand out. My bag stopped.

Katherine.

That's right. I've been doing this all for her, haven't I? I joined the Liberation Alliance for her. I stayed with the Liberalists for her. I went and graduated school for her. But for some reason, now, that isn't lining up with all the things that I do.

If my reason for living is Katherine, why do I feel happy when I look at everyone around me? If my reason for living is Katherine, why do I feel fired up when I see someone—like Esmae—crying? If my reason for living is Katherine, why do I care about all these external factors, all these things that aren't Katherine?

Then, it hit me. For the longest time, my reason for living was Katherine. However, now, there had to be more to it. She wasn't the only one who I was living for. Now, I was living for them: all of them.

I am living for the people who walk Middle Libentina High School. I am living for all those who have fallen from the Liberation Alliance. I am living for Fawn. I am living for Ben. I am living for my new family, the Liberalists.

Those people aren't Katherine. They're not even close to being Katherine. They didn't shelter me from the outside world. They didn't tell me that everything was going to be okay and that I should live inside my little bubble, away from everyone and everything that was going to hurt me.

Katherine was the one who freed me. Everyone else—they let me live.

Now, I wasn't living to help the one who freed me. Now, I was living for everyone who has let me live, who has shown me new places, new people that I would've never met before. Katherine played a major role in getting me here, but she wasn't the only one. And now that I could see clearly, I recognized them. I recognized all of the people who have led me to where I am today, where I am standing today.

I was no longer living for someone who didn't want to be saved; I was living for those who needed to be saved. All those people suffering from the X.Q. gas and its aftermath—those were the people who I was living to save. And though I'm only one small part in it, I play a huge role. No longer simply a supporting role, I'm going to play the protagonist and be the best one that I can be for as long as I live.

I'm finally going to be the hero.