Draping her arms over his shoulders, Jackie hugged Noir tightly, attempting to quell her tears as she wiped her eyes.
"It's really you, Noir," she said in complete disbelief. "I can't believe it's really you."
"Jackie? Are you–"
"Ah, ah, ah, Noir." She stopped him in his tracks. "Call me, Nénènn. Say it with me, Né-nènn."
Even in the thick of solemnity, Jackie couldn't help injecting a touch of humor to lighten the mood.
"N-Nénènn," he awkwardly repeated. "Wait, but I thought your name was Jackie?"
Unable to help herself, she began giggling, her tears drying up. Releasing Noir, she laughed, her warm chuckles filling the room. "It is, but in terms of family, I'm your Nénènn, silly. Your godmother."
"What's a godmother?"
Jackie smiled gently, her eyes reflecting memories. "Well, while your mother and I aren't related by blood, we were just as close as sisters. We practically grew up together. She trusted me more than anyone else, so she asked me to be your godmother. I never really liked the idea of raising kids or being responsible for someone else. I actually refused at first. But then when she—" Jackie hesitated, catching herself before revealing a past she hoped Noir would never have to know. "Let's just say, when you were born, I signed some papers. Those papers said that if anything ever happened to your parents, I'd be the one to raise you."
"So does that mean they're dead?" Noir asked, his tone flat and matter-of-fact.
Empathy wasn't something he'd had much chance to learn—growing up in a world where survival came first, and emotion came last.
Jackie flinched, her expression tightening as sorrow swept across her face. "They are."
"Oh. I see," Noir replied, placing the photographs he'd been holding back on the table.
"That's it?" Jackie asked softly. "It's okay to say more, Noir. To feel more."
She watched him carefully, concern edging into her voice. His face remained blank, his body still—like he didn't know how to process grief, or maybe he'd forgotten how entirely.
"Why would I do that?" Noir's words cut through the room.
Jackie felt a surge of frustration, momentarily contemplating a reaction more visceral than words. Yet, before she could act on that impulse, Noir pressed on.
"I don't have any memory of my parents. How could I feel for someone I don't know? In that place—Mille Dan, I think I heard someone call it—I saw many animals lay eggs, never to return for them. I figured that was what happened to me in one way or another. At the very least, I thought that we were the same. Someone left us behind to fight for ourselves. That it was only a natural part of life."
As much as it pained Jackie to hear, Noir made a valid point. He had no recollection of his parents, not even their names. However, there was one person from his old life he did know despite not remembering her, and that was the woman before him.
That's a pretty bleak interpretation of life, Jackie thought. But I guess in the land of a thousand teeth, there are no grays. Just plain old black-and-white decision-making to decide whether you'll be the predator or prey.
"Besides, if they died, that just means that they were—"
Without hesitation, Jackie slapped Noir.
"Don't you dare finish that sentence."
She was calm, though her voice was etched with anger and disappointment.
Noir had no idea about the many forms that strength came in, and Jackie wasn't going to simply stand by while he disrespected her loved ones—his own parents—by calling them weak.
A tense moment of silence passed between them. Noir could sense Jackie's hostility and knew from their fight aboard the boat that she wasn't one to be taken lightly.
But as her frustration subsided, she let it go.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have hit you. You're free to feel however you want, just… leave them out of it if it's nothing good, okay? Their memory is all I have left of them, and I won't allow it to be soiled. Not even by you."
"Jackie," Noir stopped himself, then switched up his phrasing. "Nénènn, I'm sorry too."
Despite Noir apologizing, he didn't have a true grasp on why he was doing so. He was merely following Jackie's lead in saying she was sorry. All he knew was that he had done something she didn't like.
Deep down, Jackie knew Noir's apology lacked sincerity.
"It's okay. But don't let it happen again," she replied, hoping that one day, he would genuinely mean it—not for her sake or his parents' memory, but for his own peace.
"Nénènn, can you tell me about myself? Who was I before I ended up in that swamp? What was I like?"
"Woah," she halted Noir in his tracks. "I'll answer all your questions, but let's step outside."
She gathered the bags she'd brought in from the store. "It's a little much for me to be in this apartment right now."
Stepping out onto the balcony, where a cool breeze whispered through the night, Jackie quietly closed the door behind them. With a soft click, she sealed away the past that lingered in the apartment.
"Oh yeah, here." Remembering the things she'd bought for him at the store, Jackie handed him a white T-shirt.
"I'm pretty sure this should fit you. The boy at the store who tried it on looked about your size…"
As Noir accepted the shirt and pulled it over his head, Jackie couldn't help but notice his physique. It was only then that she truly realized how muscular and well-toned he was.
This kid is unnaturally defined. Every day must've been hell for him just to survive. The wildlife in Mille Dan would eat a seasoned hunter alive, but he had what most would consider divine protection. But even if he's never been hurt, I'm sure there were days on end where he had to physically exhaust himself just to get by.
"It fits," Noir said, standing with his arms at his sides.
Setting the bags down once again, Jackie stepped closer to Noir.
"Let me just…" she elongated her words as she began tucking in his shirt. "There. A man should always tuck his shirt in, Noir. It makes him look presentable—and adds extra points in the looks department, if I say so myself."
Stepping back and leaning against the railing, Jackie gazed up at the fading sky. Though night had already fallen, traces of orange still lingered on the horizon—remnants of the setting sun.
"You were the cutest little baby, and I mean that. Most people won't admit this, but the majority of babies look like processed pet food personified at birth."
She chuckled. "Anyway, fun fact: your father, Marcelo Bordeaux, named you the day you were born."
Jackie let out a full laugh. "It took him all nine months just to condense his list of names down to his top five—with the supervision of your mother, Mona, of course." She laughed again. "You'd probably thank her if she were here. There were some questionable names that made the finals you'd definitely resent him for."
Her tone softened as the memory washed over her. "I remember every detail about the day they brought you home to Delphine. When I showed up, all the neighbors were already swarming the house with gifts. Baked goods, baby clothes, diapers—you name it. Your parents didn't have to come out of pocket for any of your needs for at least two months."
Man, they sure did love Mona and Marcelo, she thought. Even after finding out what they were capable of. The protectors of Meteor Kingdom, their small community, had called them. They had such high hopes that Noir would one day be just the same.
"Sorry, I suck at telling stories." Jackie let out an awkward laugh, rubbing a hand down the back of her neck. In truth, she just wanted to make sure he knew even the tiniest bit about his parents—despite his lack of interest.
"For the most part, you were a quiet baby, but that changed once you started walking and talking. As a kid, you loved chatting with anyone and everyone, and you were always off on some little adventure. You were such a good boy. Your parents used to bring you over to my place every other weekend for family night to–"
"What's family night?" Noir interrupted.
"Stop interrupting and I'll tell you," Jackie said. "Family night is when families get together to do stuff—like watching movies, playing games, eating good food, and dancing to music. It's like a little party just for the people you love."
"Food?" Noir echoed, as if that were the only word he'd heard.
"Oh yeah, lots of food," Jackie smiled. "Tell you what—how about we work hard for the rest of this week, and then we'll have one at the end of next week? That'll give me time to plan and give you something to look forward to."
"I accept," Noir replied, firm and serious.
I accept? Well, I guess I did basically give him a quest. She imagined being some ruler, sending a knight out on a mission to rescue a princess in a faraway land.
As Jackie continued telling stories from the past long into the night, Noir would show signs of interest whenever she mentioned herself or him—but grew distant whenever his parents came up. Still, as the stories began to wind down, Jackie asked the one question she hadn't yet said aloud.
"Noir, how did you end up in the swamp? We had the whole kingdom looking for you, but no one could find anything. Eventually, we assumed the worst had happened. But somehow, all this time, you were deep within Mille Dan. I don't understand… why didn't you come back?"
Noir took a moment, trying to recall even the faintest memory before waking up aboard the abandoned vessel in Mille Dan—but nothing came.
"I'm not sure. Anything before waking up on that boat is unknown to me. I've wandered all over Mille Dan, but that place is endless. I had no idea there was anything else but the swamp."
I know he had his mother protecting him, but there's no way she would've sent him there for safety. She would've brought him to me. No—someone had to have taken him there. But who? I wish I knew all the details of what happened that night.
"Well, I could tell you stories about who you were for days, but it's getting late. So, I'll leave you with this: the past is the past. Now that you've finally come home, you have a decision to make. Will you become the man you want to be, or will you remain what your environment told you to be?"
Those words struck a familiar chord in Noir, as if he'd heard something like them before. It felt like déjà vu, but he couldn't say why. All he could think about were the words The past is the past as he recalled the vessel around his neck burning away. The sensation had been warm—strangely comforting. Despite the flames, it hadn't been painful.
Noir placed his hand on his chest, where the vessel once hung.
"I never thought much about it before, but… do you know what that thing around my neck was? I never took it off. It was the one thing that'd been with me since waking up. I hoped that if someone ever found me, they might recognize it."
"I–" Jackie hesitated. She knew the truth might one day tear him apart the same way it had been gnawing at her. So instead, she watered it down.
"It was a gift from your mother. A good luck charm she made for you."
"Why'd it catch on fire? And why didn't it burn me?"
"Woah, woah, woah, again with the barrage of questions. Slow down. I'll tell you everything you need to know, but overloading yourself with new information isn't good for the brain. Let's take a break for tonight, and we'll pick back up some other time, okay?"
As much as Noir wanted to keep talking, he accepted Jackie's decision. After all, he was home now. He'd found someone who knew him, someone who knew who he was. And there was always tomorrow—and the days to come.
"Well, you take these." She handed him the bags from the store. "I'm going to head back to my place and get some shut-eye."
Before she left, Jackie made sure to give Noir a hug. As she wrapped her arms around him, Noir stood there, arms at his sides, reluctant to hug her back. But Jackie didn't mind one bit.
"Well, see you tomorrow, fiyo."
"Yeah, tomorrow." Noir stood there, unsure of what he was feeling. The beat of his heart had quickened, and the warmth of Jackie's hug lingered on his body. He could still smell her scent and feel the memory of her arms around him.