Evan walked out of the arena, with Mir flying out, behind him.
They had won, of course, at what cost? They were all dead. Lifeless bodies, left in the arena of frozen time, only to be preserved forever.
Evan let those thoughts sink in. It was not like he cared, they had always called him the wrong name, always criticised him for not being like Freud, and was the main reason why he became this stoic in the first place. So why should he care? What was more important that they had won, so why was he upset?
Evan walked forward a few steps, vision blurring. He felt the wetness, and let it carry on wetting his face.
Were those... tears? Were they genuine, truly mourning their deaths of fake, just pretending to mourn people he didn't care much about? Evan didn't know. He'd like to think they were fake, seeing how much he convinced himself that he didn't care, but...
'Evan, did you really didn't care?
Evan's knees gave way, as he fell to the ground, those words replaying in his own mind. He didn't care, he really didn't. He didn't, he didn't, he didn't, he didn't...
'Lies. Stop convincing yourself that you didn't care.'
Evan let those tears roll down his cheeks even more. Last time he cried this kind was the day before he swore himself into becoming stoic. He broke his own promise to himself, didn't he. The emotionless one, finally breaking down at the fall of his comrades.
Evan just kneeled there, sobbing and letting Mir just comfort him.
'Listen to how quiet it is. You're hating it? How ironic.'
He always liked the silence, that he always had when he was reading books. It was annoying when he was writing when Mercedes just talks to him as if he's 'Freud'. Annoying when he was reading and arguing the true meaning of the author's words with Mir and Aran wanted him to spar with her. Annoying when he was practicing his spells in peace and Phantom wanted him to argue about the most pointless things ever. Annoying when he was studying and Luminous criticised him for not practicing his spells. Annoying when he was sparring with a clone and Eun Wol barged in to ask for paints that he always seem to use up within days. And yet...
He wished for Mercedes to call him 'Freud'. He wished for Aran to disturb him and spar with him. He wished for Phantom to argue with him. He wished for Luminous to criticise him for not practicing his spells to the point of perfection. He wished for Eun Wol to ask him for paints that he seemed to use up every single week. He wanted someone to talk to, anyone! The silence was just deafening.
He never got the chance to talk to Mercedes as himself, Evan. He never got the chance to spar with Aran more than the few times she asked him. He never got to argue with Phantom about the most meaningless things. He never got to practise his spells with Luminous to the point of perfection. He never got to learn more about Eun Wol, the forgotten hero, let alone paint with him.
But now, they were dead, and death has sealed their lips forever, and they will never know what Evan wanted to tell them.
Evan just cried, letting the sounds of his sobbing fill the empty halls of the Time Temple. He could cry all he want, but they were never coming back. And that was the one thing that Evan didn't want to accept.
AN: I blame mid-year exams for my sporadic posting of stories. But, grade it as strict as you wish, criticism is always good. Probably a few errors here or there, but I am pretty sure it is readable. It goes too fast for my own taste though...