Memories of Old

Chapter 36: The United States of America

Chapter 36: The United States of America

The next morning, I woke up before anyone else in the house. I carefully climbed out of bed without waking anyone—even Luciano.

"What's up, Ying?" Yang asked me, tilting his head. "Another nightmare?"

"Something like that." I sighed as I got out the necessary cooking supplies for breakfast. I tossed up a sound and smell barrier spell without even thinking about it.

"You're falling back into old habits." He observed, reaching out a ghostly hand towards the barrier.

"What did you expect, Yang? In all honesty, after seeing and reliving all these memories... We both know it's coming up." I sat at the counter, a sudden wave of exhaustion sweeping over me. I reached into my bag and pulled out a book. It was small and a dark red-brown color with Celtic knots intricately woven in the design of the cover, forming a cross. At first glance, it could be mistaken for a bible, and the natural color of the Journal hid the bloodstains well, until you looked at the pages.

I flipped through some of the entries, my mind wandering back to old memories.

"You never really left, did you?" He sat beside me, a sad look on his face.

"No. My physical self did, but... that place still haunts me. It still holds me captive. Even here, so far away from all of it..." I didn't stop the tears as they flowed. "I thought... that once we got out, everything would be fine. Everything would be okay again, and that I'd be happy. So why am I so broken, still? Why does part of me want to go back again? Why do I... miss it?" I sobbed.

"Because you spent most of your immortal life there." Yang finally answered. "You tailored yourself both physically and mentally to cope with what that place had to throw at you, and you made yourself into a specialized weapon, specifically designed to combat the dangers of that place. And now, it's over. All those things you learned, and the skills you've developed are useless, now. And you fear that all those things you spent centuries mastering will now only serve to isolate you from everyone, and make you useless once more. You fear that you have served your purpose and have nothing left." His words hit home, and I cried harder.

"But that's not true." He spoke up, louder. "You are not a broken tool or a weapon with no purpose. You are a person. And while you may be hurt, you are not someone to be left behind and forgotten. You matter. To Luciano, to Romano, to Flavio and Japan and Germany and America... To everybody. To me. You have a rare gift, Feli."

I looked up in surprise. He almost never called me by my name. "A... Gift?"

"You make friends wherever you go. You don't let anyone or anything stop you from helping those friends. You should've died in that place. You all should have. But you didn't, because your strength of will was stronger than his." He smiled as he hesitantly reached forward, wiping a tear from my cheek. "You are strong, Feliciano Vargas. And that gift may be annoying as hell, but... it even worked on me." He blushed lightly. "I care about you, fratello." He quickly spun around, and I swore I saw heat waves coming off his cheeks. "D-don't go thinking that I'm soft or anything! I mean you're still annoying, and I'm still that same asshole as before, and—"

"Yang." I stopped him, a smile on my face. "Thank you, fratellino."

"You two done bonding, yet?" Luciano leaned casually against the doorframe.

"Damnit, fuckhole! How long have you been standing there?!" Yang demanded, bristling like a pissed off cat, causing me to laugh.

"Long enough." He smirked. "You almost got out of the bedroom without waking me."