I hate this damn house. The furniture that''s way too soft for you to even sit upright. The walls, floors, every single piece of wood that creaks when you walk over it. The large rooms, taking more space than any person could need. The seats everywhere with nobody to fill them, the tables that sit in the corner without any food.


    I sat there alone waiting for him to come back with Koyo up in his arms. I didn''t even fall asleep in the chair, I didn''t knock myself out with the beer I was drinking. I sat there staring at the door for the rest of the night. I must''ve looked over every single chip on the wood, every single scratch on the handle, every single mark on the frame.


    I looked at that door until it blended into the wall, and even then he still hadn''t come back. The sun came up behind me, gracing the back of my head with its warmth and painting a plain brown scene a colorful blood orange. The room turned into one big canvas that I was sat down right in the middle of as its painter changed colors. Only when the light of day became less exciting was I able to see that same door once more.


    The teacher picked this time to waltz right in, but he didn''t have anyone with him. As soon as he closed the door behind him we just stared at each other for a while. He wasn''t avoiding my glance, and I looked into his eyes as he refused to say a single word. He wasn''t upset, at least he didn''t look upset. His expression was blank like he was just passing by, walking back into the house without the person he had spent all night looking for.


    Maybe he didn''t care. Maybe he let that spoiled brat run off to whatever other house he''d terrorize by beating up the kids who were already there and letting the adults praise him for it. Maybe he just couldn''t find him, somehow that brat got away from someone who was close friends with Karamazov.


    "He''s gone." He spoke in that same low tone of voice whenever he wanted to be serious. "I don''t know where he is, but I can''t spend a week looking for him."


    The worst part is that he''s lying. He and I both know where he is because this isn''t the first time he''s put on a little show of running away from home. The teacher told me where he found him last time because he thought something like this would happen again.


    Son of a bitch. He wants me to go find him and make amends. He wants to get some sort of beautiful scene going where we hug right in front of the sunset and talk about how we don''t actually hate each other.


    Maybe he struck a deal with Koyo, I mean he must have let him go sit by his little tree, otherwise he''d just drag him right back here. What was their conversation like? Was this some sort of plot?


    Maybe this was a part of his "training," if you could even call it that. He''s like one of those gurus who tell you all about how training your mind is more important than training your body. What is your mind going to do when I smash your skull in with a 4-foot-long steel blade?


    Whatever, I wasn''t going to let him emotionally blackmail me. What blackmail did he even have? He''s known ever since the first day that I don''t give a flying fuck what that detestable lump of self-righteous assholery thinks or feels.


    "Okay." I was just sitting there glaring at him. He didn''t have any ground to stand on, I wanted to see what he was going to do. Maybe he''d promise me some secret sword technique for tracking Koyo down. That was probably the best-case scenario, forcing him to actually teach me by either holding his favorite student hostage or forcing him to walk away from this manufactured sentimental moment.


    He still had that same blank expression on his face until he turned away, probably to think about his next steps. I was prepared for anything, any screaming, even a threat of violence, I could deal with all of it. There was no way I was going to let this deceitful bootlicker make me chase after an undeserving bastard without at least laying a hand on me.


    If he did lay a hand on me I could just leave myself, and then he''d be forced to chase after Koyo and be down a dummy to use for target practice.


    When he looked back to me though, I was forced to choke on my words. He looked pained, like, I don''t know, someone had killed his dog. He was on the verge of tears, I could see his eyes watering up, but he refused to break eye contact. This wasn''t what I expected him to do. Two years of being here and he''s never shown a single emotion that wasn''t surprise or smugness.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    I didn''t know what to do, he wouldn''t stop. I saw some of the tears roll down his face and it made me sick. I wasn''t used to seeing him like this. I couldn''t possibly be used to seeing like this, I''m surprised that he didn''t flick his wrist and blow me away so I wouldn''t see him breaking down. Why was he upset? He knew where Koyo was, he knew how to find him and bring him back.


    He knew very well what he had done to me unless he''s been sleepwalking for the past two years obviously he would know about the choices that he made to put Koyo''s constant affirmations over a single compliment sent my way. What did he have to cry about? This was probably some late-stage regret, maybe he was visited by his dead father last night when he slept next to Koyo.


    What was it? What the fuck was it? What did he have to cry about? Why was he looking at me like that? How could he? Did I do something wrong? I''ve sat here all night waiting for him to bring back a teenager who loves to cry like he''s five whenever he doesn''t get exactly what he wants and I didn''t even blow up at him when he walked in the door like I should''ve.


    He should be apologizing profusely, and yet he''s standing there looking at me like I''m throwing my life away because I won''t play his little game of fetch. What is this? What is he trying to tell me? His eyes closed a bit, but there were still tears coming from them. He refused to say a word but I could see his head shake a bit. He was struggling to stay still. What-


    ...


    I''m too gullible. Tears from a grown man are enough to make me do something that I know is irredeemably stupid. I didn''t even care about him, I couldn''t hate him anymore in that moment than I have for the past two years but I couldn''t bring myself to say anything to him while he was about to break down right in front of me.


    I just bolted out the door and found myself walking into the forest where Koyo loved to hide. I don''t have time to ask myself why his tears just sent me running to help. An adult man. A grown man shedding tears. That should be embarrassing. He should be ashamed for putting his emotions in the hands of a teenager. I don''t know why I don''t hate him, why I don''t feel the way I do with Koyo.


    If Koyo broke down crying in front of me I''d laugh until I ran out of breath, and I''d laugh so loud the entire continent would create a legend out of me. They''d wonder where such a loud laugh came from and if they''d ever hear it again. I''d walk into an in and hear some adventurers talk about "the loudest laugh ever known" and think about how all it took were some tears from the snobbiest bitch in this entire plane.


    I walked around the forest for a bit. I didn''t want to approach him during the day anyways. He loved to be snuck up on, I couldn''t tell why. The teacher told me that the last time he did this, every single time he tried to get near him, the brat would run away to another tree, but as soon as the sun set he was able to reel him back in easily.


    I just picked up random sticks and twigs and threw them around. I brought my sword with me in case any beasts chose now to eat him. I''d let them if it weren''t for whatever magic the teacher used to make me care about his sorry state. I''d have to look at the ugly face he makes whenever he cries if I came back and told him that all I found was a half-eaten corpse.


    I started to swing at the random trees that I passed by. If I just continued to walk around I''d probably stick my sword straight through my own head out of boredom, and plus I heard a story somewhere about how marking objects as you walk in a certain direction can help you get back to where you came from. Apparently, some guy used a ball of yarn for this.


    I didn''t need any help getting back to that house, he told me exactly where Koyo was hiding the last time he pulled this little stunt anyway, but I''d rather not die before I even get the chance to see his little act. I spent most of the afternoon walking past trees and making dents in them with my blade.


    Each time the dents would grow larger, and eventually some of the trees started to fall over when the slice was too deep. Wait a moment, I was cutting down trees in a single slice? I was doing in absent-mindedly too, but it felt great. Every single time my sword would make contact with a tree it would feel like, well, I can''t even say. I don''t know what is making hitting these trees so appealing but I just couldn''t stop.


    I must''ve cleared out hundreds of them when I remembered that I''m not supposed to get noticed by him while I''m out here trying to lure him back to the house. I started just swinging my blade around in the air, vertically, horizontally, diagonally, it didn''t matter. It gave me the same feeling as hitting the trees.


    I sat in the same place and swung around my sword for a while. I swung it around until my arms were sore and I couldn''t keep my balance. The feeling of the wind blowing around me, the sound of my sword passing by faster than before, the rush of making contact with the ground, or even finishing a swing in the air.


    But just as I had this epiphany, right on cue came the sight of Koyo''s head, and I was forced to limp my way over to the tree. The sun was setting, so it was time for me to finally go get him now.