The Normal's Game

Ch. 2-2: For Six Years

The road was peacefully crowded that day. A photograph of a young man in black, staring out a black taxi window, added itself to the beautiful collage of the city. He was enjoying the view of the city he had been living in for so long, but rarely visited. A place he inhabited but was locked out of. 

"Michael!" cried the whispers of a brunette.

"We are not breaking into the city hall!"

The noirette's eyes were still glued to the see-through window, locking eyes with the large clock tower with both hands placed on the number two. "Why are you whispering, Arvel? The driver is wearing earbuds, you would've noticed if you would observe."

"Michael, listen to me! We are not breaking into the city hall of all places, aren't you aware of the security of that place? Both of us know this isn't going to end well," the brunette's voice was now just a volume bar louder.

But, Michael's ears had taken a canoe down the serene river of nostalgia, a river we all have found ourselves lost in once before. The dense forest of memories it was in and the dark sky above, sparkling with hopeful twinkling stars. The illustration perfectly captures what was in the noirette's heart.

"My father used to take me to the city hall. I remembered the days where the woman at the reception table would greet us, giving me a jar of sweets, and playing with me. Rather fond memories," the noirette said, drifting himself back to reality to a quiet brunette.

Michael quickly picked up on the quietude. "Archive. They have an archive where they store closed cases there. We'll try to find a missing child case that may have gone unsolved and figure out if there are any ties to what we know right now."

As Michael's words parted with his lips, a dense silence formed like fog inside the small vehicle, making itself feel like home, putting its feet all over everyone's faces. "Michael,"

"do you ever miss your father?" the brunette told the silence to leave, though not without a parting gift. The noirette paused at the question asked. 

"Arvel, emotions aren't so much my forte. I believe that they burden the mind and would be better to be pushed aside. Though, I suppose, that means that there is a part of me that still holds on to that burden in regards to my father," Michael said, his words tucked themselves into the brunette's ears, resting in throughout the rest of the ride. 

The majestic building had its way into the lenses of Michael's eyes, eventually playing back the strong memories inside his head. It was a large structure, grand in nature, dressed in white with gold and silver as jewelry. Its presence alone sent the brunette into sheer awe. 

"Quite a magnificent building, isn't it? But, why would an archive be placed in the city hall?" Arvel asked.

"South Otsher is a different kind of city, Vel. You'll see when we enter."

The black taxi pulls over to the side of the city hall and the two leave the vehicle. The slam of the closing door was followed by a voice from behind them, foreign to Arvel but indistinguishable and memory-clicking to the noirette. "Nice to see that you've left your cave, Michael."

Michael's back was still facing the anonymous man that had greeted him. Their eyes need not to meet. Instead, they stepped back and let for a show where their words danced atop the stage, welcoming the reunion of the two old friends. "Well, even bats leave their caves at some point. Surely, you've learned that after all this time, Lukas."

The clueless brunette felt like he was just caught in a crossfire. The bullets were their words, their mouths were pistols and carbines, even Arvel's ears believed that gunpowder coated his flatmate's lips, colouring them a grayish black.