Apology

*ayoo, finally back on track, I hope. Gotta see how I keep up with this, work, n whatever other stuff comes up. Still, for now enjoy. Peace out and Deus vult*

Mark's eyes opened to the familiar ceiling of his room. Black Swan had seemingly vanished from his side, which perhaps was for the best, considering the tendencies she showed, an animalic instinct that nearly drove her to doing things to him for memories. 

"I should be careful when giving her my memories if I ever do it again. She's like a drug addict for those things." 

With his head a little hazy, fogged from his sleep, he sat up. Thoughts swirled in his mind, and he got dressed, but for the most part, his memories were blank. The old outfit of his brought along memories of days gone, of times when he was just a rookie, lost in the world. Some things were the same, after all. Lost he remained, despite having a place he associated himself with. 

In the softening blur and passing headache, Mark found it within himself to focus and finally think of the next step. It was around that period of Penacony that he began paying closer attention to details, focusing more on trailers, or leaks, and such information. Thus, he was able to see more into the future at an earlier stop, yet in that moment, he saw a lot of monkeys singing a song over and over in a maddening loop. 

"What in the actual fuck were the developers on when making that?" 

The door slid open, and out he went into the hallway, alone in the silent place. The cemetery vibe didn't help much at all, yet he kept going, thinking that the others should have been prepared to embark on the next step of their adventure by that point. 

As the door to the parlor came closer and closer, he felt his heart beat louder and louder with each step, the thud agonizing, stirring the depths of his soul. Emotions of all kinds came out, some that he didn't wish to acknowledge, that he wished to simply rid himself of. Negative things were poison for the human mind, albeit sometimes needed, but dosing was the important factor. In his case, however, the dosage was overboard, the mixture of events bitter even now. 

Acheron's face flashed in the corner of his eyes, but the window his eyes flew towards showed nothing but the void of space. Nihility, a depth that one could very well sink into and never come out of, was just like the void of space in his eyes. 

"Easy, Mark, try to calm down," he whispered to himself, focusing his attention on the tiny crucifix at his neck. He clung on to the golden necklace, closing his eyes as a deep breath came in and out. His fist clenched softly around it, holding on more to the memories that still clung to his mind. 

"I'm past that point, and I know it. I must move forward; I must move forward. Lord, just help me let go of the past..." 

His plea was soft, causing him to halt and just stare out into space, taking in the stars, faraway planets that were probably hidden from his sight, simply admiring the canvas painted with celestial bodies. 

"A mere speck of dust, and yet that's all it takes to ruin a fine machine," he whispered again, feeling the Stellarons inside his body. Perhaps he had grown past the point of a mere speck of dust, turning into at least a pebble. 

Bracing himself, he cast a side glance at the door, again contemplating walking inside. He didn't know what to expect, didn't know how to fully react. After all, he had run away too, perhaps scared of lashing out, or rather, scared of some unforeseen repercussion. They did check his phone, and while the fault was theirs, he did blame himself for not being open about things—even if he had no choice. Breaking down that wall would prove to be too much. Instead, he clung to the white lies, or what he hoped would be no more than a little stain on their carefully woven tapestry. 

"What should I even say? The hell should I expect? Nothing nice, that's for sure. Or maybe they regret it too? What the hell am I even overthinking this for? Hell, I should've walked in right after waking up, so my emotions would be nowhere near awake." 

The lump that formed in his throat went down with a heavy gulp, even as the door grew in size from how he saw it. Still, he clung on to himself. In spite of all, he knew deep down that whatever was wrong with him wasn't fully his fault, but it was his fault for how he acted. Running wasn't the approach, but he still chose it. 

With a trembling hand, he managed to open the door, putting on his usual expression, the lifeless, uninterested gaze, looking like he was angry for no reason. It was part of him, at that point, to look like that when serious. 

He quickly scanned the room, the chatter inside coming to an instant stop, allowing a wave of heavy silence to settle down instead. Welt glanced at Mark, their discussion coming back to him at once, with words spoken by both sides. 

Himeko's gaze softened, bordering on sadness tinged with regret as she met his aloof gaze. Her lips twitched slightly, dashing between words unsaid, emotions locked behind her own heart and fears. Stelle and March both seemed to be a bit uncomfortable and rather regretful, while the always stoic Dan Heng did betray a hint of regret, merely by avoiding Mark's gaze. 

With a sigh, Mark walked inside, silently clenching his jaw with each passing second, the atmosphere tense. He let out a heavy breath, opening his mouth to speak, yet it seemed that March couldn't handle it anymore. She pounced on him, the guilt too much for a soft heart like hers. Her arms went around him, as soft tears trickled down her face. 

"We're sorry," she sniffed softly, clinging to him like the contact could convey the depth of her regret. He froze in place, and not long after, Stelle joined the fray, followed by Himeko, and before he knew it, even Dan Heng and Welt joined the fray in a big family hug. 

"What the... why... what... huh?" 

There he was, frozen on the spot, looking over everyone in a new light. March was still quietly sobbing, while the others did show hints of their emotions as well, albeit subtly. 

"We're sorry, Mark," said Himeko, her voice wavering slightly. "We shouldn't have done that; we shouldn't have done many things. I know that excuses don't work, and I know that forgi-" 

Mark cut her off, finally displaying a hint of his older self. With a tiny, crooked smile, the sincerest gesture in his arsenal, he spoke softly, letting the tears flow down his face. 

"I forgive you all, damn it... I can't stay mad at you, silly goobers. I can't," he tried to wipe his tears, but his arms were stuck by his side as everyone still encircled him. 

Quick glances were exchanged, and Himeko's words died on her lips as she simply softened. She did owe him a personal apology, but that was a discussion for them to have in private, with no one to witness the moment. 

"Don't cry, dummy," said March, looking up at him, and yet the tears kept going despite his attempts. It was there, his weak point, the one thing he sought ever since coming over to this world—family, a place to belong, people who did regret hurting him, who would hopefully try to avoid the mistakes of the past. He wasn't sincere either with many things; that much he knew, and yet, the simple moment was all he needed to let go and live up to what he preached. It was... liberating. 

"You know," he said softly, wiping his tears as the others finally let go, giving him room to breathe. "I know I have my fault in all of this too. I do keep a lot, but I never once wished to hurt you... I'm sorry, but..." 

Welt shook his head, speaking calmly. 

"We understand, Mark. I'm... we're sorry, once again. We shouldn't have doubted you, but something simply pushed us into doing it. Humans fear what they cannot comprehend, and you somehow fall into that spectrum." 

With a tiny smile, Mark spoke again, bringing out the old, familiar words. He was far from it, a new being, perhaps, one fueled by unknowns, by energy that he couldn't understand, with a new limb and a piece of history from another world etched into his flesh. Still, the words felt natural, rolling out like silk. 

"I'm just a guy, nothing more. I'm simply... Mark, the cringy guy who likes puns and saying he leaves a 'mark' on people, and I guess I left a rather deep one on everyone here, both good and bad." 

Stelle chuckled, shaking her head slightly. 

"You just had to go out and say something cringey, right?" 

Mark scoffed slightly, jokingly nudging her shoulder. 

"Ey, I'm trying to have a sincere heart-to-heart and I get called cringe? Welp, I kinda am a damn cringe lord... only when you embrace the cringe do you become content with yourself." 

The conversation derailing did take away from the stress, and yet Mark felt it, warm in his chest, in his whole being. 

"I guess we returned to how things were before, right?" asked Dan Heng, to which Mark nodded eagerly. 

"Yeah. I know that it's a simple thing, and maybe a bit cliché in its own right, but sometimes a simple apology and acceptance of everyone's faults goes a long way. It's the willingness to try that comes harder, and perhaps letting go of one's ego. I acted kinda stupid, but let's hope that we won't have too much of a depressed Mark, just a regular Mark who does have his issues." 

With a slight giggle, March finally returned to her cheerful self and at once slung out her camera to take a picture. 

"We should get Pom-Pom here too," she said and went off to find the little guy. Mark crossed his arms, feeling at peace. It went smoother than expected, and the wounds were almost closed, except for one left behind by none other than Acheron. That one, while done with a good reason in mind, did hurt, striking deep at his own insecurities, his own fear of incompetence. 

"Mark, are you feeling better?" asked Himeko, placing a tender palm on his shoulder, stepping a bit closer. He met her gaze, recalling his earlier demeanor, harsh and cold. With a flicker of regret and a touch of shyness, he went for it and hugged her tightly, whispering. 

"I'm sorry for how I acted. I was an idiot." 

She smiled a bit, holding him in turn as her heart picked up the pace little by little. 

"Don't worry about it. I think we were all idiots this time around." 

The hug went on for perhaps a second longer than expected, but they did let go in the end. 

In the meantime, March came back with Pom-Pom, who ran towards Mark upon seeing him there, alive and kicking. 

"Mark, you're fine. Pom-Pom is so glad!" 

Mark chuckled, squatting down to give the little fella a hug. 

"Yeah, I'm glad to see you too, Pom-Pom. Now, come here for the picture." 

With a flick of her wrist, March pulled out the camera, setting it aside on a table, trying to set the scene and the timer. Once it was all set up, she dashed their way, making sure they were all close and ready for the picture. 

Snap 

Thus, the moment remained framed forever, safe for keeping. From her own plane of being, Black Swan watched, smiling softly at the scene, glad to see part of that childish joy back. 

"Anyway, anyhow, I feel like I've been idle for too long, and it's barely been a little bit since I got some action in. Where's the next stop?" 

"Well," began Himeko, kicking into motion their next adventure by declaring the spot. Sure, Mark knew, but it was time for everyone to brace for it. "We've received an invitation from Penacony's 'Paperfold University'." 

March was clearly not that joyous about it, the déjà vu creeping up her spine. 

"I sure feel like I heard that before," she chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of her head. 

Just like that, the situation was back to normal, and Mark had to focus on his thoughts for the future anew, racking his brains for the next evil guy.