Regret (OPEN)

The move was over and Mahavari was still adjusting to his new surroundings. From his desk near the window he could see the outside. The sound of the consistent rain pelting the earth below was like a calming chorus of nature that made the book he held to his face seem all the more fitting. The tranquility of the library was something he found himself immersing himself in often.  He would ever so often briefly stare out the window, through the distorted blurs of the wet glass. Solitude was painful most of the time and yet, after classes were over and the need to wear the fake smiles, feign interest in the boring, and answer all the right answers to all the questions, it felt good to be alone.  In truth, the result of a solo study session could've easily been better if Mahavari had retreated to his dorm. The dorm halls seemed so busy and the room was rather tiny. It still accommodated him. So why did he feel the urge to read here in the library? Was he merely subconsciously longing for attention? The chance that someone may recognize him and spark up conversation was the only reason?  The time he immersed himself in literature was nothing more than another mask he wore as a conversation starter?

No... that couldn't be it....

He had enjoyed books long before her started wearing a facade. He enjoyed reading about the various characters come to terms with their identities and despite their colorful personalities how they played so well in the script. He remembered scouring through pages on the trains and flights to different countries. They were the only constant in his life. The unique characters seemed more like family to him than his own.  That was because he viewed his own family as nothing more than unseen hands moving him along like some figurine in a board game. They claimed to love him and want only what was best. So was what was best for him was never staying in one place for no longer than it time it took to make friends and feel genuine comfort only to be ripped away from it after he established himself? To stay alone at the every changing dorms every holiday instead of going home with his family, was that what was right for him? They justified themselves by providing him with the funds to eat, dress, and do pretty much anything he pleased while he was abroad but what he could careless if he were dressed in rags eating from trash cans... just as long as he wasn't alone.

He did as he was told like a mindless doll. 'Study hard and do good in everything you do.' He transferred here to this school from being the top 5% of his class, he had several plaques and awards for his extracurriculars but they were all meaningless piles of junk. They were worth more to him for the gold they were made of than the sentimental value.

He wondered how long he'd be here at this school. For a student like him all the teacher were so shocked and delighted to welcome him into their classes. A private school kid with a record that practically sparkled like precious gems.  He was only here because he directly pleaded with his parents to let him join the campus. He lectured them for hours and even had a presentation on how going to a public academy would help him grow in a safe academic setting while developing social skills that could aide later in his career choices. He even impressed them with the use of the phrase 'diverse socioeconomic populace'.  The real reason he was here instead of anywhere else in the world though. Was a combination of good timing and conflict. At his old school he was beginning to gain popularity. Naturally he didn't gain this until after he had spent months as an outsider and developed a mere handful of acquaintances. His true friends were in the same boat as him. They were the outcasts, unpopular, hard-working, and yet somehow optimistic. They were totally content being surround by the few as opposed to the many. They acted the same around everyone and anyone and took joy in the simple things. The desire to be more, to have it all, that's what drove Mahavari to betraying his friends and falling into the false parties of the other students. Who only seemed to like him after they found out his parents were loaded.  Naturally the popularity and the fake people soured his views and when he went to try and reforge his friendships they too turned their backs on him.

Mahavari remembered the exact day he chose to run. One of his few true friends had an enthusiasm for gardening. Strange for a boy to take joy in growing 'pretty flowers' but nonetheless it was pleasant. So pleasing that Mahavari spent several afternoons in the schools courtyard helping the student landscape and grow the beautiful flowers that brought them close together.  After his betrayal of his best friend, Mahavari felt used and abused by the popular students and returned to the garden in hopes of finding his friend.  What he saw was shocking at first. The once luscious garden he had helped create, was reduced wilted unattended flowers being strangled to their deaths by weeds. When he went to investigate on what had happened he was ignored by his friend and found out that his betrayal hit him the hardest. It was raining like it was today. Mahavari felt lower than dirt and when he turned on the television an add for the island came on. The school was in one of the background photos.  The big decision concerning his immediate future, was merely thanks to a commercial.

Mahavari looked away from the window. His face held the emotion of sorrow across it as if he were holding it back. He let a heavy sigh before returning to his book not wanting to dwell on his reflection any longer. The verse he mouthed silently seemed to give him comfort.


It was stupid. He had no logical reason for finding comfort in the verse. Yet it sounded beautiful and brought feelings of warmth and minor elation. A poetic sense of beauty. He only read the book when he was feeling down. It always cheered him up. Unfortunately, he had been feeling so lost and alone as of late, he could recite the entire speech by heart.

Mahavari looked up as the girl started talking. The loud snap of her book shutting drew in his full attention and a rather judgmental half-glare, if it could be called that. He gave a slight brow raise when she stated the last two lines being a bit off. Of course they were off they were only part of the entire speech. It was obvious she didn't know the play he was reading. The line was probably if not the most famous lines from the entire play. Mahavari gently closed his book laying it on the table beside him and folded his hands in his lap. He couldn't help but be a little peeved that this girl didn't know of the verse or its origins. It was by far his favorite line from his favorite piece of literature. "The verse is from Oberon to Puck. He was ordering Puck to take the juice from a flower and spread it over Titania's eyes while she slept, so that the first person she laid her eyes on, she'd fall madly in love with. The elegant wordplay is common in Shakespearean literature and it merely depicted a part of the forest Titania often slept in."

He sighed unfolding his hands and holding his brow. He couldn't help but silently cast judgment on her as if she were ill-educated or without class for not knowing this. It wasn't intentional, a subconscious reflex that was nothing more than a byproduct of being forced to live his life like some kind of elitist. He caught his body language and vocal tone betraying him and quickly readjusted himself. He leaned forward in his chair giving a soft grin before picking up the book and showing her the title of the book. Elegantly cursive letters dented into the leather covering and painted a glimmering gold. 'A Midsummer Nights Dream'

"I'm sorry. The book's a personal favorite of mine so I guess I may have came off a bit defensive. Hi there, I'm Tykal Mahavari, Class 3-C. A pleasure to meet you Miiiiss?" he hesitated at the end fluxing his vocal tones to indicate a desire for her to answer.

Tykal watched the girl's reactions to his innate hostility towards her. She was clearly offended. He wondered if she was important enough in a social group to alter his behavior to connect with her a bit more. The filter he normally used had lapsed. The pent up emotions he was recently dwelling on managed to surface some and the trigger was merely her interrupting his train of thought. It wasn't as if he had anything against her at all. A simple wrong place at the wrong time scenario. When she spoke as if the book would disapprove of his actions he gave a slight chuckle before cocking his head to the side, "The book is not a living organism, it doesn't have thoughts or opinions. Though I'll take your advice to heart. I didn't mean to come off so rude." He looked down flawlessly placing on his many facades. "I've been a little stressed out from the adjustment here. I hope you can forgive me." The change to his expression and body language was simple. Feigning the concern that he offended her or that he remotely acknowledged her feelings was easy. A slanting of the brows and a look of regretful concern, a fluctuation in the pitch of his voice, and shifting his body in a less judgmental crossing of the hands to a one arm across the chest and the other gesturing with the fluctuations in his voice to emphasize the words more. All carefully calculated and expertly utilized to work her audio and visual senses to appear genuinely apologetic.

He did this far too often. The goal was make no enemies and the few that couldn't be avoided, used to benefit himself in someway whether it be by social connection with others or other personal gain. The girl introduced herself which was a sign of minimal trust but it did ease the thick tension between the two. "A pleasure to meet you Miss Arisato. 3-B huh? I guess you must be in the classroom next to mine." he gave a faint smile still playing on the regret angle. "The classroom can be a bit noisy at times, I do apologize if we've disrupted your studies at all."

She went on to inform him about another poem on par with the book he was currently reading. Though he focused more on the Portuguese angle. Didn't he just recently meet a man from Portugal, Sharaku right? The grey-skinned guy with the funny facial expressions. "Portuguese huh? I ran into another guy from Portugal recently. Is there a lot of Portuguese people in this region? Or is this mere coincidence?" If she didn't notice it earlier she'd definitely have gotten a taste of his accent when he pronounced the name of her book to himself. "Os Lusíadas"

Still this show of literary prowess was a bit shocking. He figured based on her appearance and lack of knowledge in a rather world renowned title she was somehow lackluster in education. This small taste intrigued him a bit. His interest in her went from merely humoring her as to not make an enemy to a curiosity that he'd feel compelled to sate.

Tykal was clearly offending her but after hearing he talk about the way books record emotions and in such contain a synthetic sense of emotion themselves. It was food for thought. He disagreed with her argument still but he chose not to voice it.  A recording can evoke emotion even copy it but they weren't real. Just lingering thoughts and emotions frozen in a loop. They couldn't change themselves or adjust to different scenarios. Tykal thought for a moment about it. What good was giving a book the power to show emotion. When Tykal first picked up the book it held a magic and whimsy, beauty and elegance, a lesson and hidden messages, it wasn't a book meant to spark sadness or to remind him of how the real world doesn't come with happy endings.  He didn't know how to react now, if he were to agree now he'd look like he were merely humoring her but to argue and speak his own ideas would only cause more friction. The mental debate on the decision of what to do was becoming apparent on his face as she continued.

'If we can put our thoughts into the book, who's to say the book can't think for us?'

Mahavari grimaced at the notion, becoming steadily more upset and clearly biting his tongue. Books think for him. What would his book say anyways, he worked so hard to be someone he's not that the real him was always masked. The very idea that a simple book could ever grasp at his true self was just.... it was just... Mahavari tightened his fist as it rest next to him discreetly. He let a soft sigh relaxing his fist some, this wasn't a battle he'd win or even one that needed to  be had.

The topic of conversation continued with her origins and a quick dismissal of his concern for his classrooms behavior. She was Japanese apparently. 'Well she doesn't have grey skin' he thought to himself. The mental jest made him crack a thin smirk and light chuckle.  "It looks like every comment I make today seems to be crossing the line and offending you. It really wasn't my intent. I'm sorry, perhaps I should stay quiet now."

He didn't quite no why he was so abrasive today. Was something bothering him, he was acting like a jerk and with no reason. This girl seemed genuinely nice to him and he threw up yet another wall. It wasn't until she made the argument about the books having feelings that he had any real reason to dislike her.  Even now though they disagreed her ideology intrigued him. He envied how she could think that way. He was highly pessimistic about life, the future, his decision to come here.  He really wasn't sure whether the stress was getting to him or if he really had become the cold hearted jerk his former friends claimed him to be.  

Tykal brought his hand to his brow squinting his eyes some from the newly developed headache he was getting. At this point it was clear something was bothering him and now enough to mental tax him with a headache.  Tykal stood up slowly facing the girl with a soft smile. This time real regret showed on his face and unlike his near flawless facade, it was apparent this was more genuine. "I'm sorry for bothering you. I think I'll head back to my room now." he bowed formally and slowly walked out of the library heading towards his room. She had given him much to think about and he could tell his 'mask' he wore was cracked again. He needed to go and repair it and to do so took time and contemplation.