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“Are you going to talk to him?”
Dakimakura Cover’s voice is quiet and neutral, the way it always tends to be when they talk. But there’s still an undercurrent of empathy in his voice, in his eyes.
The Sleepiez have forced them both to throw away their empathy the best they could. But it’s hard to completely cut out something so vital to their very cores.
“We ought to be concentrating on predicting Boss’ next move,” Alba says briskly.
Dakimakura Cover shifts on the couch next to him, eyes still sympathetic.
“I spent time to talk with my brother,” he says, “I’m not gonna judge you for talking with your son.”
“They’re not our family, Dakimakura Cover-san,” Alba says. “I know that you’re aware of that.”
Dakimakura Cover’s expression twists, and that’s how Alba knows that he understands.
(If they claim another world’s residents as family- then that means they’ve let their family die, countless times in countless forms, at the hands of the despicable Sleepiez.)
“Yeah, I- know that, Great Mage,” Dakimakura Cover says, bitterness slipping into his voice. “But still- Sion, he- he was so unhappy in so many worlds. You know that, yeah? Always dying miserable and alone, even before the Sleepiez got there.” Tears well in the corners of his eyes. “Seeing this world- seeing him so happy- I know this Sion isn’t my family, but still...”
“My apologies,” Alba says quietly, resting a gentle hand on the man’s shoulder.
“It’s okay.” Dakimakura Cover wipes at his eyes with an arm and swallows. “What you say isn’t wrong. I do know that.”
Alba and Dakimakura Cover- they aren’t friends, not really. But there’s a certain kind of camaraderie that comes with being traitors to an organization that would see them dead for it.
It’s enough to make Alba feel terribly guilty for poking at the man’s wounds.
“Our situations are different anyhow- I apologize for drawing parallels,” Alba murmurs. “You entered the Sleepiez to save your brother. I entered it even knowing it would leave my son grieving my death.”
But he had no other choice, not really. How could he close his eyes and turn away, knowing what he did? That actor was a stranger, but he had still died for him.
What kind of person would he be to ignore that?
“Of course our situations are different. There’s not many who suffer as much as Sion,” Dakimakura Cover says, matter-of-fact.
It would come off like a twisted sort of arrogance if Alba hadn’t spent the last few years hopping worlds and learning of that suffering first-hand.
Dakimakura Cover continues, “But that doesn’t mean you don’t care for your family just as much as me.” His gaze is firm. “Talk to him, Great Mage. This Salt may not be your family, but I think getting that chance will help you focus.”
Alba grimaces. “Have I been that bad?”
“You’ve been distracted since the boy came in to bring tea,” Dakimakura Cover says, voice gentle.
A sigh escapes Alba’s lips. He’s always been bad at compartmentalizing.
“I suppose I must, then.”
“You’re so young!” Alba can’t help but exclaim as he wanders over to the boy.
Salt jerks up from his desk, looking surprised- and vaguely nervous. It’s an expression so familiar, so nostalgic, Alba can’t help but add on-
“I’m guessing you don’t work?” A smile plays at his lips, fond. “All you do is eat?”
“What’s with your weird assumptions?” complains Salt. “Of course I work.”
“Oh!” Alba’s eyes widen with genuine shock.
Salt looks even more annoyed now. “Was I that useless in your world?”
“...You didn’t work as much as I would’ve liked, yes.” Alba has to admit. But- “That doesn't mean you were useless.”
It was mostly Alba’s fault anyway. He cared for Salt, of course he did- but he was never the best father. Far too indulgent- he spoiled him too much, even after Salt grew up and became an adult. Logically, he understands that, even if emotionally he could never bring himself to act stricter.
“...I thought you’d dislike me more,” says Salt, sounding surprised now.
“What? Why in the world…”
Did this world’s Alba dislike this Salt?
Salt scratches a cheek, awkward. “Elf-san and Alf-san always made it sound like I caused more trouble than I was worth. The me of your world, I mean.”
“Of course not.” Alba gives him a small smile. “You were lazier than I would’ve liked, and spent more time eating than working- but you still stayed by me and my silly dreams until I succeeded. That’s worth plenty.”
Their income was paltry by the end, and so Alba tried his best to convince Salt to leave, to find a job in a better field with more prospects. And maybe Salt’s laziness played something of a role in his decision, but he still willingly made sacrifices to stay. He stopped going out to restaurants entirely, made all of their meals himself to save them money. Even though Alba knew Salt was more than capable of finding a better career with his degree.
Whether he stayed because he believed in Alba, or he stayed because he didn’t want to leave Alba all alone- that was worth something.
Salt blushes a little, looking pleased. It’s precious- Alba desperately wants to ruffle his hair.
“Oh, um. Thank you, Alba-san,” Salt mumbles. “Or uh, Great Mage-san?”
“Alba-san is fine,” Alba says, heart in his throat. “At least when this world’s Alba isn’t around to make things confusing.”
(It’s been a long, long time since anyone has called him Alba.)
“Okay!” says Salt. “Um, so, Alba-san- did you need something from me?”
His eyes are innocently curious.
“Ah no, I simply-” Alba feels a little sheepish now. “I was interested to see how the Salt of this world was doing.”
“Oh.” Salt sounds a little confused, but he takes it in stride. “I’m doing well. Work-wise too.”
“That’s good to hear,” says Alba. “Though- I have to say, how did you end up working here so young?”
This Salt is almost as young as he was when Alba first met him. In his world, they hadn’t started working together until over a decade later, after Salt had grown up and gotten himself a graduate degree.
“It’s just an internship,” Salt says, “I still go to school at the Hero School.”
“The… Hero School?”
Salt is more than happy to give him a brief explanation. It’s apparently a school established by the King in the wake of this Alba’s accomplishments. Children in nearby villages had been recruited to attend the institution- and Salt, who had moved in with his aunt shortly before the establishment of the school, had been granted permission to attend as well.
Alba is very glad to hear it. This world seems to be kinder in many ways.
(Salt had been kicked out of the orphanage at age nine in their world.
The staff claimed it was because he wasn’t smart enough, or strong enough, that they couldn’t afford to keep on a useless mouth when they had so many others to feed. They claimed that they still cared for him though, that they wanted him to understand that it was an unfortunate necessity to keep Salt’s orphanage friends alive.
What complete and utter nonsense. It makes Alba furious even today, decades later, even with each member of the staff there long since sent off to jail.
If the staff cared so much, they wouldn’t have been pocketing funds from the Crown to line their own pockets. If the staff cared so much, they wouldn’t have forced a nine year-old child out in the middle of winter.
Alba doesn’t want to think about what might’ve happened if it hadn’t been Alba’s dorm room that Salt broke into, to find refuge from the bitter cold.)
“So you live with your aunt in this world, I see,” Alba murmurs.
“I didn’t in your world?” There’s a flash of hope in Salt’s eyes, and that’s how Alba knows he’s misspoken. “Did… did I live with my parents?”
He can’t bring himself to dash Salt’s hopes, not this small, young Salt who doesn’t deserve the Sleepiez targeting his world.
“You had a father,” Alba says, because that much isn’t a lie. “Things weren’t perfect, but he does- did love you, and I think you cared for him too.”
Enough to mourn him once he was gone.
“A dad, huh…” Salt’s voice is quiet, longing.
And Alba’s chest suddenly feels like it’s going to cave in.
“I-” Alba coughs, clearing his throat. “I ought to let you get back to your work, Salt… Salt-kun. Thank you for humouring me.”
“Oh, yeah! No problem,” says Salt, his face smoothing over. “It was cool hearing about another me.”
“I’m certainly glad to hear that,” Alba says, and then he flees.
“Did you ask him for a hug?” Dakimakura Cover asks once Alba is back.
“Of course not,” Alba says with a sigh. “He’s a young child. I’m sure he’s not used to saying no to people with authority- it wouldn’t have been right to even ask.”
“Guess you’re right,” Dakimakura Cover says, quiet. “How was it?”
Misery and grief still clenches his insides, but still-
“I’m glad I talked with him,” says Alba.
Dakimakura Cover smiles broadly. “I’m glad you could.”
Alba lets his eyes close for a moment, two, pieces himself back together.
“Right then.” He forces a genial smile back onto his face. “Time to get back to work.”
There were far more important matters at hand- both of them know that very well.
Dakimakura Cover nods, and that’s that.