"Hey, Melody?"
Mason finally speaks up, weak and croaking but Melody was waiting to hear something, so she was able to catch it.
"Yeah, Mas?"
Melody excitedly answers, bouncing a step forward.
"Do you think I could just…"
Mason fights to get the words out, knowing he's about to be hurtful.
"-walk home alone?"
Mason finishes, his worlds are cold but he knows to himself he needs this.
Melody takes a step back, sheltering her face away by looking off to a lamppost that just turned on.
"Oh- yeah. Yeah, I should uh, I should be getting home."
Melody's hand raises to the back of her head and itches, ruffling her high ponytail.
"I just wanted to ask though-"
She continues on, stepping closer to Mason. Mason's head hangs, he can only look at his feet.
"Are you sure you don't want me to stay…?"
Melody is also fighting to get the words out. She fights to meet her sweet eyes with Mason's hollow ones. Unsuccessful.
"...You might need some help with that 5,000 word essay."
Melody reassures, knocking into his side as she stands herself upright again. Melody is finding it best to end this on a less worrying note, but she knows full well that this whole situation is cause for worry. Not only because Mason won't work hard unless it's in a serious fight, but because Melody can't say for sure if Mason even knows 5,000 words.
"I can manage."
Mason stiffens, solitary. He pulls on his katana strap, holding it tighter to his back and straightening out his shoulders. He finally looks up to meet her gaze. In his eyes, Melody can see his held-back sadness.
"O-Okay then!"
Melody runs off, a shining tear breaks away and stays in the air around Mason for a moment too long. Mason notices, looking up from the wet spot on the sidewalk to his friend running off towards the lowering and near-disappeared sun.
Melody, half the city block away, turns on her heel a hard 180 degrees and leans on her hip.
"Haha, Goodnight Mason!"
Her smile glows, and her hand reaches up and cups around her mouth, exclaiming louder.
"Mm."
Mason musters his own goodnight, nodding his head discernibly. He barely watches her leave, then steps slowly down his street. Foot beats slowly bang against his ears, and his heartbeat syncs with the footfalls. Mason's world swallows whole as he enters the front door. He has no words to think, only that he's home.
KReeeeeee
Mason opens his door, following typical motions. He takes off his shoes, hangs his school bag on the end of the staircase, and goes to the fridge in the kitchen, and pops open a carton of milk.
Fwop
Mason leans the carton back to his lips, downing the entire container to its end, and crushes it.
"Gah!"
He suddenly outbursts, disturbing no one. Not a soul home to hear him, or to ask what's wrong. He's by himself.
"Screamin' like a Demon?"
A familiar but haunting voice calls to Mason from the past.
"Wha-?"
Mason shoots around, racing his eyes around the room to find the person talking to him, a voice he hadn't been able to hear for some time.
"What're you lookin' at, idiot?"
Mason ducks from a strike he knows is heading for the back of his head. The room hollowly sits.
"Knock it off, Dameon!"
Mason says aloud. The air shivers around the space.
"I-"
Mason regrets saying it, hurt by his own words. Pained by that name, again. Mason looks over into the dining room where a shadowed image remains at the dinner table that sits across the room from him.
His younger shadowed self sits at the edge of the table, his elbows dug into the wood. Young Mason's face is drowning in a lovely meal of potatoes, carrots, peas, a hunk of seared meat, and a glass of red juice. Young Mason's face is barely an inch from his fork at any point, presenting a cloud of food, open-mouthed Mason, and more food.
Beside him sits an older boy. He looks like Mason, but minding his manners, nodding politely to other speakers in the room.
A family sharing dinner.
"Waaa wawaa wa wa- think about Masquerade in a few years?"
The older boy fades into intelligible words, his head leaned toward Mason as he finishes.
Mason pulls his head up from the storm of food.
"Wuh-?"
His mouth slacks open and mashed potato falls out of it.
Slup
"You manifested Mason!"
Dameon throws his elbow onto the table, getting closer to his younger brother.
"We knew you were going to have to learn stricter control sooner or later - I think you should come with me to Masquerade."
Mason's older brother vouches for the school, vying for his younger brother to accompany him, nudging for him to quickly agree."
"Dameon,"
Softly spoken but pointed, only the way a mother would be able to speak.
"-we like that you like Masquerade, but Mason would do far better at a school for Cursed-Only."
Voices thick with worry and parental reasoning reach from the other side of the table.
Dameon turns his head and looks at Mason, watching him wolf down his meal.
Mason looks up to meet him, only slightly tilting his head to dart his eyes at his parents and Dameon.
"Mason is going to be much bigger than a Cursed school alone, taking him to Masquerade will allow him so much more opportunities to grow…"
Dameon raises his hand over Mason,
"- and fight stronger enemies."
Fep
Dameon's hand lands on Mason's shoulder, waking him from his food daze.
"Fight?"
Mason perks up, itching at the word to the point he feels almost uncomfortable in his seat.
The room goes silent. Mason watches on now as the table filled with his family and his younger self dissipates into a cloud of blue mist. The whips of fog curl around Mason as he walks through them, passing through his own home like a ghost. Mason grits his teeth and his lips remain perched at his nose, scowling at the world ahead of him.
Continued in PART THIRTY…