Life After You

Chapter Day 1: Noon



Delilah: “That was so much fun! This was actually the first time I’ve played basketball properly.”

I laugh merrily. Kendric gives me a high five.

[Kendric +50]

Delilah: That would have been +100 if I picked among the two options they gave me. The scoring system is adjusting to me...is that a good thing?

Subconsciously, I glance at Zeph, who has just come back with a few bottles of water. He hands one to me, keeps one for himself, then tosses the remainder to Kendric and the others—none of whom has names.

He catches my gaze but says nothing.

Zeph takes a drink. We all follow suit.

Delilah: Has no one else noticed? Everyone is following his lead. Has Zeph never noticed? No, that can’t be. He must have...simply thought it was because they were wary of him.

Zeph: “We’ll grab a bite and move on.”

Delilah: “Okay.”

Kendric waves at us as we leave. I wave back.

Instead of the cafeteria, Zeph brings me to a café a bit away from the main building.

Delilah: “This place...”

Delilah: Doesn’t come into the picture until later on.

Delilah: “I thought you wanted to stick to the script as closely as possible?”

Zeph: “I want to test something.”

We make our orders, sitting opposite of each other. In the café, there is currently no one else.

Zeph: “Haha...”

Zeph chuckles, a bit ominously.

Zeph: “While we wait for the result...you do understand that we are pressed for time, no?”

I nod.

Delilah: “The trial is the deadline. I have to finish my routes before then...if I pick any at all.”

Zeph: “You just got fifty points for Kendric.”

Delilah: “Aren’t those initial points mandatory? Nothing will unlock unless I get them. And it was originally supposed to be a hundred, so I wonder...”

I stop there. Our drinks arrive first, at the exact time I stop speaking.

I would have paused there anyway, but the waiter’s interruption is a welcome disguise. How should I finish that sentence? Should I say exactly what I am thinking, or word it more subtly?

My cheeks grow warm, smiling in spite of myself.

Zeph: “...heh.”

Delilah: He noticed anyway. Why am I even hesitating? It’s Zeph we’re talking about here...

Delilah: “I...yeah, I wonder if fifty is enough, or...”

Zeph: “...is that what you were going to say?”

He leans back into his chair, looking upon me calmly. A smug smile on his lips, he becomes still, as if waiting for me to say what he has already correctly guessed.

But at this point, it’s probably just a guess and nothing more—I remind myself of that. This Zeph knows nothing about me.

Delilah: “...no. I was going to say, I wonder where the other fifty went.”

[Zeph +50]

I gasp. I gape at the Messenger in front of me, forgetting all about etiquette if I had any to begin with.

Delilah: “Oh my god! Where were the options?! Were they there all along?! And no one ever found out?”

Zeph averts his gaze, his smile softening to a somewhat sad one. He is still leaning back into his chair, although I have leaned forward, eager to grab him by the hand...

Zeph: “I found out only today. I found out the moment you asked me to join.”

Delilah: “Oh my god...oh my god, oh my god...”

Zeph: “...”

Delilah: “Zeph has affection points, ohmygod...ah...”

I raise my hands to my face, covering it.

Delilah: “And I won’t even see the options! Oh my god...”

Our food arrives, but neither of us pays any attention to it. I keep my gaze on Zeph, but he keeps his averted to the side.

I take several deep breaths, then drop my hands.

Delilah: That’s right...he hasn’t made the oath to reveal himself to me. Not here. Not...yet.

Zeph: “...I know at least this much.”

He speaks at last, ignoring my fanatic outrage entirely, his voice barely above a whisper.

Zeph: “You came to flip the world inside out.”

Only after saying so does Zeph meet my gaze again. In his eyes is an unmistakable uncertainty, but there is also some anticipation and just a sprinkle of hope.

It is a statement, not a question—and even if it is a question, my earlier reaction would have been a perfect answer.

Delilah: “I don’t want to overwhelm you with everything I know all at once. And...as much as I know, I can’t say I understand fully what I’m supposed to do here, what it takes to change the ending...all of that.”

He looks calmly at me, expectantly.

Delilah: “I will need your help. I will need your real guidance.”

At this, Zeph chuckles.

Zeph: “Oh, I have bad habits...hahaha.”

Delilah: “I know! But...you can do it, too. You can guide me properly—I know this.”

Zeph tilts his head, a playful grin on his face.

Zeph: “I haven’t guided a single player ‘properly’ since the beginning of my career as a guide.”

Delilah: “...come on.”

Zeph: “I don’t even know if you’re a friend or foe.”

Delilah: “...”

I can’t help but feel a little depressed at the comment. I know that he means nothing by it. No, I know that he means to test my position with it. And I know, too, that by dropping to a silence, I have answered his unasked question.

But even knowing so, I let myself fall into his traps.

I always do.

Because...

Zeph: “It is probably wise not to tell me everything at once...so tell me just one thing.”

Delilah: “...?”

Zeph: “Who am I to you?”

Delilah: “You are...my partner.”

Zeph: “...uh.”

Delilah: “...that sounds more vague than I thought it would.”

Zeph: “Pft...exactly what I was going to say.”

Delilah: “But it’s the best way to describe it. I—”

Zeph: “I asked who I am to you. Not what we are.”

Delilah: “...”

Delilah: “Right.”

Zeph: “Then?”

Delilah: “You are the best person the world has never seen. You are the most beautiful, you are perfect, and you deserve only all the good in the world.”


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