[ Date ]

Geoffrey's neutral gaze was staring at the person sitting across from him, who could barely hold his gaze.

The message Emilia had sent him read as such: "Dawn Café, right after school. I've set up a date, since you've asked for one earlier. She'll be waiting for you, have fun!"

I was obviously joking... Yet she went to such lengths to mess with me?

"It's the second time we meet outside school," she suddenly said, finally looking at him.

"You're right, the first time was at the convenience store. Ella, right?"

"Right..."

An awkward silence settled between them. 

The atmosphere at the café was a nice one. The sun was about to set, but the activity was at its highest.

It was full of locals, old and young. They all had the greatest time, some other tables also occupied by students who were enjoying the evening.

Most of them were second year students, which unsurprising.

The bottleneck caused by third years meant most students were actually in their second year. First years were in minority.

"I thought—" started Ella, breaking the silence.

"Hmm?"

"It was brave, the way you stood between Jet and Emilia."

"Ahh, thanks," replied Geoffrey.

"Why did you do it?" she asked.

Why?

"Well, to protect both of them, I guess."

She raised her eyebrows, surprised at first, then blushing.

"You're quite sweet, actually."

Geoffrey offered a soft smile, the best he could come up with.

"How are you adjusting?" he asked.

She grabbed her coffee mug with both hands, her eyes staring at the beverage while she organized her thoughts.

"Hmm..." her tone wasn't as happy as it was before.

She looked slightly sad, or disappointed.

"When I killed myself, I didn't intend for all of this to happen. I wonder if hell wasn't a better alternative."

"It's not."

"I know. I'm just saying... The way everyone acts feels wrong. Peter and his followers, for one, don't even want to acknowledge their deaths."

"Hm," nodded Geoffrey.

"I understand that it's a touchy subject, but they're acting as if nothing happened! Spending their time socializing and playing stupid ice-breaker games."

"I'm glad I haven't been around for those," said Geoffrey.

Ella chuckled, a soft smile brightening her expression for a moment.

She was cute, thought Geoffrey. 

The way she spoke and thought was sincere and honest. Qualities that were rare in this place.

"Since I've stopped hanging out with their group they've basically shunned me, as if I even cared. I don't feel like pretending that everything is fine when everything isn't."

Geoffrey nodded, then took a sip of his own beverage.

"Do you regret taking your own life?" asked Geoffrey.

Her face darkened as memories flew through her eyes.

"What a question..."

She looked up.

Geoffrey's neutral expression was comforting. No mocking, no belittling. He didn't fake being interested, he just looked like he wanted to know.

"You're truly surprising," she said, smiling.

"I hope that's a good thing," he replied.

"Yeah, it is."

She moved her hair back while taking a sip out of her mug, before clearing her throat.

"I was frequently beaten by my parents. So much so that they had to make up excuses for me missing days of school."

"Why would they do that?" asked Geoffrey.

"My father lost his career after a scandal revolving around his company. I was taken out of private school, but I had already decided what it was I wanted to do."

"Oh, and what was it?"

"I wanted to be an artist. I love painting."

"What do you paint?"

Her face brightened, passionately answering his question.

"Well I have this process, you see. I take a scene, any scene really... It can be the sun at dawn, and I take the emotion I get out of it. Sometimes, looking at the sunset was during a happy moment, other times it was when I felt a bit down. I start by taking that scene in, truly feeling it, then I deconstruct it. I try to break the scene down, and extract the emotion out of it. I have multiple versions of the same scene, but with different emotions."

"That sounds amazing, truly," said Geoffrey.

"It was to me. Not to them. They told me they'd support anything I'd want to do, that it didn't matter too much. Once my father lost his career, they looked at my paintings for the first time."

"It must've felt nice," said Geoffrey.

"The opposite. They were livid. They couldn't believe I was wasting my time on these projects while we were going through the hardest times. They wanted me to change program, despite the private school giving me permission to remain a part of their art program for free. We repeatedly fought over this, things only got worst from there."

"It's surprising that they wouldn't support you. Remaining in the program for free must've meant they saw potential in you, yet they would rather have you in public school studying something else."

"To them, what I painted made no sense. I told them I was painting a sunset, and when they saw the result they thought I was going crazy, that I was going to bring doom upon the family."

Geoffrey shook his head, offering a supportive smile.

"So they were abusing you because of your career choice?" he asked.

"Problems only started there. My father had outstanding debt, and his first reaction was to borrow money around to pay those debts. Those people eventually came around to collect, and when he couldn't pay, he'd be beaten up. He did his best to find a job, but those debt collectors found him everywhere he went."

Her father was repeatedly beaten by the debt collectors, and when he got home, he'd most likely take his frustration out on her...

"And your mother? What would she say?" asked Geoffrey.

Ella's face was slightly red, her eyes blinking repeatedly, yet no tears falling. 

"She'd ask why I tormented my father so much with the garbage I painted. She was worst, actually. My father knew limits, he'd manage not to hit me too hard. My mother would hit harder, until she couldn't physically handle it anymore."

"I'm sorry," said Geoffrey.

"Don't be. I gave up art, in the end," she said, a single tear running down her face while she smiled.