Boredom

ɪ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ɢᴜᴇꜱꜱᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪ, ɪɴ ꜰᴀᴄᴛ, ʜᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴍʏ ʟɪꜰᴇ ꜱᴏ ᴡᴀꜱᴛʟʏ, ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴀ ᴡᴀꜱᴛᴇᴅ ᴘᴏᴛᴇɴᴛɪᴀʟ; ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪ ᴡᴀꜱ ꜱʟᴏᴡʟʏ ʙᴇɢɪɴɴɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴜʀɴ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴀ ɴᴏʙᴏᴅʏ. ᴀʟʟ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ᴏꜰ ʙᴏʀᴇᴅᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪ ᴄʜᴏꜱᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴅɪᴠᴜʟɢᴇ ɪɴ. ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢɴᴇꜱꜱ ᴍᴀʏ ʜᴀᴅ ᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇᴅ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴜʀᴇ ᴏɴᴄᴇ, ʙᴜᴛ ɴᴏᴡ ɪᴛ ʜᴀꜱ ɢʀᴏᴡɴ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴅᴇᴇᴍᴇᴅ ᴀ ꜱɪɴ.

. . .

What do you say, then? Speak up, he might behead you. Don't speak - how would he react? It was a disarray of doubt you were lost in, all caused by him and that wonder of his. A wonder, a miracle indeed! The entire event appeared to be staged! It was extraordinary, so far-fetched to the normal mind, that you were flooded with disbelief. Not to mention the fear - the sensation that paralyzed you, freezing your physique and throwing your thoughts all about your brain. Thanks to him you became a mute mess.

And facing the dilemma of yours, he stood, and he was at peace. The man in front of you was both a savior and a murderer, facts clear as day. Yet he presented something far more, something you failed to comprehend. It was this very greatness that threw a tantrum in your senses. He didn't budge as he waited for you to speak up, and his hand was stretched out, offering something else along your belongings. A simple act through which the the both of you saw more - was this the hint of a new life, a revelation brought by God himself?

You couldn't possibly know. These were allegories you were dealing with, mere metaphors far from understanding, especially in this rabid state of yours. Yet he remained calm, as calm as the corpse behind him. He was, above all, controlling the situation. He had no option but to rejoice in silence and mock you so.

"What should I do now," was all you could say to defy the stalemate. It was an honest shriek of your tormented soul, nothing more, nothing less. You truly had no idea what to do - and perhaps, hopefully he would show some pity to your troubles.

He tilted his head to the side, hair strands falling into his face as he spoke, "I don't ask you to do anything on the spot, but seeing that you hesitate..."

He pushed your possessions into your chest, a motion that surprised and made you stumble backwards, and - silly you - squeak. This forced a smile to his lips, and you'd laugh too if you weren't so tense.

You put the things into your bag, carefully watching Fyodor all the while. Your focus may had remained on that petite smile of his for a bit longer than intended, though.

"Shall we go before we're noticed with a body behind us? You wouldn't like that and honestly, neither would I," he then suggested. You agreed, having no other option, and so you were out on the streets again. Feet wobbly, mouth dry, you didn't dare to speak up and he didn't seem to care.

The two of you approached the river. Standing by the fence, he leaned against it and stared at the scenery in front of him. His hair and that ushanka of his played around, messing with his vision as well as your own - your eyes were glued on his idle face. If only you could read him..!

"I've done something terrible, hm? Something you'll remember. Now, I ask: would you be able to judge a crossroad in your life if it weren't this dramatic?" A question was finally heard, and your nervous self responded straight away.

"I wouldn't know, really."

"I made it easier for you today. Usually the crossroad isn't visible. Today you're facing another one, and you are about to make a choice."

"Then what is the choice I have to make?"

Fyodor sighed. "Today, I've told you many things. All of them are true -  I would have no reason to lie. And I've done many things as well. Some more heroic than others in your eyes, but - now you know who stands before you, and you know I'm not... ordinary, so to say." He closed his eyes, shaking his head a little. "I've come both as a messenger and a savior. In a couple of weeks, you will most likely be kidnapped by the criminals who wish to take control of your ability. The choice you are to make is this: will you discard the person who told you all of this, or will you let him save you, and so, help God in making a better world?"

A tough choice to make, and as such, you voiced your thoughts on the run.

"Naturally, I have no idea what are you talking about. You might be lying. Me, chased by criminals? How, when and why did I attract their attention? Never mind. But, you say you want me to help you? Is this why you approached me in the first place? Oh, what if you staged the entire thing, the theft and everything, so that I could land in your arms?" You laughed awkwardly.

"What if all of this was for me to peacefully come and join you in whatever plan you have? Who knows why, but you wanted it to appear as if you've done something good? Maybe you're brave and righteous, again, I wouldn't know - but maybe you're just someone who's got a mental disorder and an ability? And you suddenly think you're God... God, huh? That'd make sense. What do you want from me?" You barely ended your nonsensical monologue.

"From you, alone? Nothing. I only wish for a better world," he replied briefly.

"What is that world? And what role do I play in making it better?"

He narrowed his eyes, violet protruding from between the lids. "It is a world where there are no ability users, where you will come as another aid to the goal. Simple as that."

This was rather unexpected, you thought - but strangely, you understood. Eliminating ability users would do much good for sure. In your unconscious, you agreed with him, and only after rationalizing the motives did you realize - yes, your conscious too deemed his notion just.

So you told him you liked it, and he was delighted, showing just a faint tint of emotion on that pale face of his.

"But how do... they know of my ability?" You asked.

"You'd like to find out?"

"Why wouldn't I? Tell me," you ordered.

"Alright then. Your father has recently fallen into debt."

You knew that. Your father had been abroad, on a business trip, for quite a while now. He had some...  severe economic problems, or so he said when you last talked.

"He may have chosen the wrong people to fall in debt with. Now they're after him, and as it appears, those same people have spread the information about his daughter being a powerful ability user as well. They... I believe, placed a bounty on your head, as a way to motivate the criminals to capture you and use you as a hostage against your father."

That was, once again... rather unexpected.  Your father would know better, he certainly wouldn't allow a situation like this bother him. Let alone bring you in danger! How peculiar.

"My dad is close with many... powerful people. How couldn't he solve it on his own?"

"As I said, he messed with the wrong people."

"And how do you know about all of that?"

"By chance, one of those people told me about the bounty earlier today. I asked about the background of it. That's all."

"...I see. So you came to save me? Because you found out I'm powerful?"

"In a way, yes."

"How did you find me?"

"I have my methods that are faster than those of most people. Which is why days will pass before others take notice of your whereabouts."

"...I see, you have superior methods. I see. What about my father? What do you know of him?"

"He's been unheard of, which is why you were supposed to be the bait to lure him out," he told you, and you raised an eyebrow. Your father will remain undercover for as long as he wants. There's no way he'd get captured, you knew, and you didn't worry much. But bringing you in all of that... now that would actually get him to crawl out of hiding.

"Well, I can only hope he's alright now," you said with no care audible, and a period of silence came. Then you spoke up, clearing things once and for all:

"Let me recap. So you found out about me by accident, and you hurried to come and recruit me? For that goal of yours, to save the world?"

"I couldn't say that better myself." Fyodor nodded. 

 "Why didn't you say that at the start?" You whined, and he rolled his eyes.

"I have my reasons. Try to understand the chatter. I enjoy it."

"I understand you like... this. I mean, I do too," you hesitated, "but, Fyodor. I have no idea what is going to happen to me. I have no idea who else is after me and my ability. You've tried to offer me a way out, true - but what if you were lying? You're dangerous, and you're clever. I can't help but doubt all of this."

And you couldn't help but feel intrigued. The mystery sure presented itself in a wondrous way - and you recognized this feeling to be similar to childlike curiosity. As if you were reading a fantasy book, you knew you were becoming part of something great, and you'd love to find out more, of course you would... but there was danger just around the corner. You were well aware of that, and that's why you simply couldn't follow Fyodor.

But, then again... if you were to refuse, there were only two options. You either continue with your boring life, or actually get abducted, in case he spoke the truth, thus making things harder for your dad. And those people your dad had problems with certainly weren't the usual sort, since your dad couldn't handle them. Which in turn would mean that you won't have it easy either...

However, Fyodor knew so many facts about you and your father that it seemed unlikely he was lying. Then, in that case...

A stare of compliance landed on you. "You're right to doubt and I can't blame you for it. However, you can refuse me anytime, and do whatever you want."

"I can do whatever I want," you repeated his words, absent-minded, and he continued speaking.

"Not even once have I forced you to come with me. I have simply laid out the facts - you choose what you do with them," he told you.

"...You won't come back, then? You won't stalk me, follow me, whatever?" You had to check.

"I won't. You're on your own and I'm sure you can fend for yourself."

You nodded, biting your lip. "Yeah, you're right. Then this is a goodbye."

"It is. Farewell, (Y/N)."

With a spin on your heels, you turned and left. "It was a pleasure to meet you, though. I won't forget you for sure," you added.

"You'll remain a fond memory to me as well," he responded equally as cold.

And on your second step, you sensed regret. You turned around and met his calm gaze that not even once abandoned you. He was waiting, and he too knew you couldn't refuse. He smiled like a smug bastard he was even before you could voice your opinion.

"I'll give you a chance, the way you gave me one." You picked your words carefully as you spoke. "Tell me everything about your goal and how you'll achieve it. Then maybe I'll accept. I just have to make sure I'm doing the right thing." Your father was the stake, after all.

"Of course. Come then, let's take another stroll."

He spoke of his rats, the men and women who made the organization. He spoke of their deeds and capabilities. He spoke of this book in Japan that would present his ultimate goal. But as soon as you made your approval mildly audible, he redirected the conversation to other themes. It appeared as if, out of nowhere, you both agreed that you should get to know each other better. Yes, you realized soon, this feeling was surprisingly mutual.

He murdered a man in front of you, therefore you had a reserved approach at first. But it disappeared not too long after, as you came to understand his motives. Even his mindset was similar to your own. Never mind that, though. It simply made you feel secure to have your mind heard and his own open. 

You had silently consented to joining Fyodor, he was aware of that, and you two would have a future together. This wasn't your last day together - no, it was your first. There was no doubt about that. Yet the two of you kept on poking each others' interests with both rush and care. It seemed like you were playing a dangerous game, where pure, sincere judgement was expected from the both of you to impress the other one.

But it wasn't only his mind that took your breath. Of course not! His appearance was one of a kind as well. Coming from his sickly white skin that contrasted that dark, dark hair of his, striking purple eyes framed with exhaustion, and his slightly chapped lips that you made sure to pay special attention to, was a man with aura both unwelcoming and uncaring. Yet there he was, talking with you as if you were lifelong friends. It wasn't merely his physique, along his monotone, simple clothing (that complimented him well, you had to admit) that you found attractive. It were his gestures as well, one of them particularly carving a special place in your memory.

He bit on his fingers. To say he had done that often would be an understatement. Not only was he doing that a lot, but he did it sometimes too vigorously. And at the moment his teeth would snap together, his jaw would clench and his distinct jawline would come to expression. A snapping sound would be heard, and he'd continue, lips parted lightly in a rather soft manner. His gaze would be lost then, landing on nowhere, while your own gaze would enjoy the scenery without being caught.

He wasn't beautiful at all, especially in the conventional way - no, he might even be considered ugly. Yet he held something uncommon, that made him stand out and remain a pleasant sight to your eyes. He was simply being Fyodor, a mesmerizing whole that no other man could copy. That was what attracted you.

And the world wandered around you, completely oblivious to your chit-chat. "Does it give you a sense of power, when people move aside on the road for you to pass," was merely one of the many peculiar questions heard during your talk. You loved giving and answering them, for Fyodor indeed was unique. In every possible way, he boiled your intellect. To the point you found yourself accidently spitting from the enthusiasm - embarrassing, to say the least.

Your battleground was the park, at first. It was the place where you tested your wits and found out you respected each other. Then you found yourself in a café , where your conversation turned into a rather intimate one. Afterwards, the destination was supposed to be your hotel. Only God knew what expected you there, and your assumptions so far were already quite... primal.

. . .

"Say, Fyodor, what do you think of love?"

"Useless," he told you as he held the door of the café for you. In your mind, the meaning of what he had just said made complete sense.

So you peered at him, smiling a little. "You didn't have good experience, did you?"

"To tell the truth, I wouldn't know myself," he responded, his voice nearly a whisper. "But what about you?"

"Honestly? I like the concept of love, but it's always been so disappointing to me. So far, at least." You shrugged.

"I see," he mumbled and quickly avoided the discussion by asking you, "now then, is your hotel far away or..?"

"Very close, I think about... 5 minutes."

You heard him sigh and whisper "thank God". This action weirded you out, and you looked at him, only to see a relieved expression on his otherwise blank face made. The first thing that came to your mind was inappropriate, but another one popped soon after and seemed far more likely.

"Are you that tired? Or is it something else?"

He waved his head no and narrowed his eyes at you, as if he were judging you, with a pout on his lips. You managed to provoke him! You laughed - he may had appeared scary, but you knew he had no ill intentions. And as soon as you laughed, he turned his head away. "I won't respond."

What might await you in the apartment made your cheeks flush. At the very start, you couldn't have possibly expected things to turn out like this.

Throughout the entire day, you not even once found yourself surprised or particularly astounded - you gathered everything about him that you could, and were simply fascinated. You felt as if you knew him your entire life, and that gave you comfort. Enough comfort to justify your current desire, in fact.

Once you found yourselves in front of the hotel, you took a moment to reminiscence - at first, it was mere curiosity that allowed him to come closer to you. Then he struck you with fear, and you found yourself wanting to run away, but then - then, the fear turned into everlasting respect, and you began idolizing him. And not too long afterwards, you found yourself wondering if you loved him.

But when he glanced at you with that serious, always knowing look of his, when he asked what's on your mind with that sultry voice of his, your heart skipped a beat, then continued to beat rapidly. There was no denial about that - you fell in love.

Nonsense. You grinned at him. Of course you had fallen in love. How couldn't you? He flattered both your mind and heart, and as of recently, your hormones as well.

"...Anyway." he coughed, bringing your attention back to reality. "It was a pleasure to meet you, (Y/N). You truly sparked my intellect, and I look forward to our future cooperation... which would start as of tomorrow morning, when I'll make sure to pick you up and show you around our headquarters. Rest well, pack your belongings and wait for me here at 7 in the morning."

Having heard his farewell, you blurted out from surprise: "You won't come?" This had you completely flustered.

"Come where," he asked, acting all innocent. He certainly knew what you were talking about, yet... of course, he chose to make things worse. He was a terrible tease.

"T-to my apartment," you nervously continued, and he nodded, blinking rapidly for a bit. "Why though?" You clenched your teeth - how annoying, how painfully direct.

But even before you could respond, he laughed a laugh longer than the usual one coming from him. You noticed that all too well. He then looked upwards, as if he were waging his schedule for a bit, but soon after looked back at you. His gaze was tired, but now unusually focused. "Now that you offer, I might as well do that." He gave you a small smile, a trademark of his satisfaction. Your womanhood spasmed from anticipation, but you simply nodded at his response, smiling as well. You were ecstatic, to say the least.

You entered the hotel in silence, and got into the elevator. You glanced at the mirror, only to have your vision blessed by this scene: you, standing beside Fyodor who was violently biting his index finger. He took notice of what you had done, and switched his gaze from his finger to the mirror first, then to your face. What he asked next was definitely not what you had expected.

"Would you die for me?" The question came in form of a hushed voice, low and rushed, mayhaps even shy. And you gave him an honest answer accompanied with your wide eyes: "No."

A smile found its way on his lips, making even more anxiety crawl to your senses. "You haven't lost your mind then," he whispered, narrowing his eyes to the point they were almost shut. He put his hand down, brushing it against his coat. You stared at him, not knowing what to say - was this his way of asking, do you love me?

The elevator door opened, revealing a dimly lit hallway. At its very end stood the door of your room - too far, you mentally scoffed, and gulped. The time was near and you were ready.

"Or to be precise, you haven't lost it yet," his silent words were heard dangerously near you.

You first felt his your hands gently touched by his. Looking back at him, you were met with his face nearing yours. You accepted the invite, and glared into his sickly orbs whose toxic purple seeped, threatening to cloud your mind forever.

"Will you lose it now..? Or in a few minutes? Or hours? If you last that much, that is..." He chuckled darkly. You were in for a long night.