Chapter Text
Missa didn't know what expected when he woke up that morning, but he certainly didn't expect someone to try to break his door down.
One knock
Two knock
Only two hard knocks, not even three, which would be more normal, maybe they were in the wrong place, but it was certainly too early for the idea of getting in trouble to be on the table at least yet.
The assault did not last longer than those two knocks, his long black hair was like a heavy curtain between his face and the yellow light of the sun, as every morning Missa would lay lazily in bed and absorb as much time as possible from the bed before forcing himself to get up, it wasn't that he felt tired, but it wasn't like the night before had done anything with his almost constant state of tiredness, it was like passing out without rest but still wandering through his dreams.
He was too far away mentally to think about anything other than doing his routine, the wind was howling and his horse's gallops were rhythmic.
One hit, two hit
Three hits, four hits
He blinked and had finished showering, eating breakfast and brushing his teeth, according to his routine now it was time to change out of his pajamas and put on more work-appropriate clothes. His mind went back to the knocking on the door, but he shook his head.
It wasn't worth thinking about that, he decided to follow his normal path and went to his room to organize the bed, fold the sheets and get the clothes he was going to wear.
His shirt tangled around Missa's neck as he took it off, the fabric weighing down his neck, but did the job of protecting him from the sand he kicked up as he galloped. His bone mask carved as a comforting weight against his face almost like an extension of himself the plateau in front of him could stretch for another 500 square meters if they continued in that direction, which was fine with him, Luismi took longer routes in very good times before.
To his left, a high-pitched neigh announced the presence of his companion. Tentaculos and Luismi were almost face to face if it weren't for the fact that Missa and Luismi already had hours of advantage and experience in what were the band's "night walks."
"No way! The insomniac called you!! Pinche Missa, aren't you sleeping never or what?
<No way, El insomne te llamaban pinche Missa, tu no duermes nunca o que?>
ElQ forced a yawn into his throat, but Missa easily noticed how tired he was, 3 hours of riding through the cold, dark wastelands was bearable, but beyond that limit Quakity could no longer bring himself to run at the same pace as the others.
Roier had come forward a while ago with the excuse of “Taking Mariana's ass by surprise.”
Missa laughed sharp and discordantly.
"No mames, Quakity, don't be fucking lazy! We've only been driving for about five minutes?"
<¡No mames, Quakity, no seas puto holgazán! Si solo llevamos unos cinco minutos montando?>
Both the Tentaculos and their owner made a high-pitched, discordant sound so similar to each other.
"Like five minutes!?"
<Como cinco minutos>
"Well, is it only five minutes?"
<Bueno son solo cinco minutos?>
Missa smiled and the leather of Luismi's reins bit into his bare fingers as he squeezed harder.
“We've been at this for hours! “I feel like my soul is leaving me.” The youngest of the band complained.
<Hemos estado en esto por horas!, siento que mi alma deja mi cuerpo>
"And why, Quakity ?"
<Y por que, Quakity?>
"why!? Like fucking why. Missa!? I been riding…
<Por que?! como putas por que, Missa?! E estado montando>
“this!!”
<Esta!!>
And so he took off as fast as he could, leaving behind Quakity's angry screams, Missa realized that he unconsciously let out a howl of joy as he ran headlong towards the line where the vast plateau and the starry sky became one.
One hit, two hit
Three hits, four hits
And then it was all over, he stayed there, with his shirt in hand, his mind still trapped in the reminiscences of his memories, trying to enjoy them a little more, the speed of his horse, the wind on his face, the stimulus of galloping, the adrenaline running through his veins and above all the intoxicating feeling of pure freedom.
Lowering his head to where the pajama shirt lay, he tossed it into the laundry basket with just a little more force than was necessary and continued his attempts to change, this time consciously trying not to fall into further delusions of wakefulness.
Just as he finished dressing he finished tidying up the bed, just as he finished tidying up the bed he finished tidying up everything that was in his bag.
Aside from the pounding that morning, nothing else seemed to break him out of the monotony of it, how good, how absolutely… great.
The last step of Missa's daily routine was to repeat how well he was doing in that static life until he convinced himself of it, and it might be working if it weren't for the small piece of paper that fell at his feet as soon as he opened the door.
It was a letter, Missa Sinfonía that who only received at his door the reprimands for playing the guitar too loudly and the utility bills that he had received a crumpled and hurried-looking letter, as if they had been made in a hurry.
That…wasn't part of his routine.
His hopes that it was a mistake were dashed when he read his own name next to one that made the hairs stand on the back of his neck, a name that made him scream and kick back into the river of endless memories that drowned him under currents of past information that washed over him. He thought he had buried it under a drought of emotions, a desert of lack of adrenaline should have been enough to quell the fear and raw emotion that burned under his skin.
Suddenly, the atmosphere in his apartment felt colder and more constrictive than normal. Missa noticed that some of his hair covered his vision when he raised his head.
Peeking his long body out of the door, he turned frantically looking for the executor of that cruel joke of fate. Whoever was there certainly wasn't there at the time and hadn't been in hours, but that didn't stop him from looking around the halls like someone expecting a surprise attack.
Because that's how he felt; attacked. He ran a hand through his long black hair, noticing that he was still wet from the shower and a lone drop rolled almost too slowly landing on the date and blurring it.
Quesadilla Town, County Q.Essempi 12 of XXX
To: Missa Sinfonia
From: ElQ-
-And he stopped reading.
He hadn't heard from Quakity in… years, Missa had made sure to cut off all communication with his life in Quesadilla, he didn't want to have any bridge that could drag him back. But it seemed like it's a little late for that now.
According to his routine, he should already be going to work, a bus infested with people, to a small appliance store also busy with people, and from there to the same bus again.
He was always surrounded by so many people when the only ones he wanted to know about were in his memories.
And they shouldn't leave there
But Missa realized that a tug on his chest was prompting him to close his door, like a puppet whose strings were being pulled he found the hole of anxiety that was devouring his stomach.
He was so explicit about his reasons, Quakity understood it, the whole band understood it! Then why?
He turned from one side to the other, then looked at the letter in his hands
He couldn't help but open it.
Quesadilla, County Q.Essempi 12 of XXX
To: Missa Symphony
From: ElQ
If you are reading this Missa I want to tell you that I am very sorry. But this is a really urgent matter. I know you wanted to walk away and leave this world and I totally respect that but I need you now motherfucker.
I´ll get to the point.
Roier has been missing for almost a month.
There were signs of violence in his house, his children are very worried, Vegetta has started a witch hunt to find him and we know nothing about his husband.
I know it's cruel to ask you this and I wouldn't do it under other circumstances, but it's not just me who needs you right now. I've been getting the band back together and several are already coming here, and I want you to come too Missa. I want you to return to Quesadilla
You may not even read this in the first place but if you are reading it I want you to know that I won't blame you for not coming back I just cant lose him, but neither do I want to lose you so the decision is still in your hands
—. Atentamente, Quakity.
...
The next moments, minutes, and hours passed in a painful blur. His only suitcase (which was the very same backpack he arrived with) was quickly filled with the few clothes Missa had, fortunately he had no perishable food in his refrigerator (he had nothing in his refrigerator) and the few bathroom products fit easily in his "suitcase" when he take out the work uniform that he no longer need.
At some point the phone rang once and he assumed it was from work, he didn't answer, when he they rang again to ask he where he was he didn't answer either, and when the manager picked up the phone on the other side of the line Missa had already crossed the door. He could have called his potter to terminate the contract at any time but if he called the potter he would have to call at work too and he had no head for anything other than Luismi's neighing and Roier's distant shouts of joy that seemed to get further and further away every minute.
The bus station was full of people who Missa knew would not get off at the same stationas him since it was a six-hour trip plus an hour and a half walk to reach the town and no one but him was crazy enough for that shit.
He turned off his cell phone and got a burner phone.
He adjusted the straps of his backpack when he heard the bus approaching and climbed on without looking back at the life he fought so hard to build from zero.
Heading back to Quesadilla Town