Chap 10! Sorry for taking so long! I'm inundated with assignments etc but I stayed up until 7am to get this chapter up to standard and out to you guys sans further delays. Enjoy.
Note: I don't know Hindi; all my knowledge (or lack of) is limited to Google Translate and some language forums. If there's anyone who would like to fix my Hindi grammar (or that of Google Translate's) please PM me :-) Also, I make references to some beliefs in Jainism: I study philosophy and religion but by no means do I know everything regarding Jainism. If there are any mistakes made, please let me know. Thank you!
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Brilliance. Utter Brilliance.
That's all Victor could feel during the night. His mind traced over the events in the DR and he smiled as he collected the image of Noriko's face when she saw him sitting there – chortling – as he soaked up the glory. In fact, the ecstatic emotions danced through him so definitively that it hindered his ability to sleep, and the reptilian mutant had to inhibit another snort. Chopping Noriko down felt nothing short of utter brilliance, and as the mutant remained awake – although with his eyes closed – he allowed the feelings of self worth and confidence to fill him.
The snores of Paras in other single bed across the room soothed Victor into his pillow and as he lay there with a grin on his face, his diaphragm warmed as he began to view everything around him with raw beauty. The mundane was amplified to extra-ordinary and despite the innate negativity in the world, somehow Victor managed to see a sanguine beauty in everything – even things that saddened, angered or annoyed him. Even the bad things had become exploding sources of positivity and the teenager hoped that the feelings he felt would remain in him forever, and would permanently paint the world around him brighter and more colorful. There was no wrong in the world: bigotry was surmountable; hardships were trivial and stress was non-existent. Everything, for Victor, felt right.
He conceded. The reasons for his ebullient feelings certainly derived from a trivial win in the Danger Room, but his success meant more to him than it did, perhaps, to the other students. Over the past years, Victor had come to doubt his abilities, his strength, and his drive. He always managed to come in fifth place, even when he worked his hardest – regarding school, activities, skills, honing powers, etc. He just never managed to reach the zenith of the capability of which he knew he had in him. It was just a matter of believing in himself.
To add to it, Victor faced a number of social presumptions that he found himself fighting, through most of his teenage years. It angered him that society expected him to act flamboyant and boisterous when that was far from him; he didn't believe that his sexuality should be a definition of himself, and just because his people have an unfair stigma attached to them, doesn't mean that he should allow it to obstruct or influence the person he is.
The win in the Danger Room represented much more to him; it was symbolic of the untapped capability that was always within him, as well as a puncture in the stigma that told him that he could never retain true masculinity due to a small aspect of himself. Besides, if his people are so flamboyant and girly, then how was it he managed to win a combat-based simulation, and defeat Ben Hammil and Noriko Ashida - two of the most formidable fighters in the school? Not very flamboyant of him.
A groatling snore from Paras emitted a snigger from Victor, and the reptilian smiled as he viewed his partner – but more importantly, his friend – with awe, sublimity and admiration. Paras had helped him realize what he knew now, and it was Paras that helped him deal with the bottomless pit of insecurities that fettered him to his attempts to break free of a negative self-perception and rigid past.
"Psst," Victor whisper-hissed, "Par, wake up."
The violet skinned student rolled his head to the side, with a mouth open and a row of bottom teeth showing.
"Wake up," Victor repeated a little louder, reaching for the pillow underneath his head and chucking it at his roommate. With a gasp, Paras jolted up and his head swung from side to side with shock.
"Vahām̐ kauna hai!?" shouted Paras, as his head rotated above his neck as he searched his surroundings. He was met by a laughing Victor, who sat up on his bed and scrutinized him with a countenance of amusement.
"In English please," Victor mock chided.
"What is the..? What are you..? Why did you wake me?" a disgruntled Paras asked dryly, a sleepy footprint crunching his voice.
Victor smiled. "Just couldn't wait 'till morning to talk to you."
The confusion on Paras's face vanished and he laughed, or rather chuckled through his nose.
"I was enjoying a dream," replied the violet student, positioning himself so that his arms bolstered his body. "You were in it."
"Me? I was in it?" Victor asked with feigned shock. "But why would you be dreaming of me?"
Paras cringed, smiled and then sank into the bed, his sleepy eyes still impairing him.
"Use your imagination, janu," Paras chuckled back, pressing his cloudy head upon the palms beneath it.
"It's so late," Victor quipped with a mischievous smile lushed across his face. "I don't think my imagination is working too well around now. I guess you'll have to describe it to me."
Paras lifted an eyebrow. "Sanam," he sighed with a smile, allowing the flattery to breathe through him, "Victor without an imagination is not Victor. Surely you must agree?"
Victor smiled. "Well then I guess I'm having a Victor lapse. Don't make me demand, Paras. I want to hear about it."
"About my dream?"
"Yeah. And stop stalling."
"Stalling. This is such a funny word. I like how it rolls on my tongue. Stalling. Staaalling."
"Stop!" Victor interjected with a needy grunt, throwing his legs over the side of the bed and sitting upright. "I want to know what you were dreaming about!"
"I already told you, Sanam."
"Don't Sanam me. I know you're just teasing me."
"Why?" Paras gasped melodramatically. "Why, why would you accuse me of such a thing?"
"Stop stalling!" Victor squawked, his hotheadedness filling his previous curiosity and excitement. "Don't tell me something and not go through with explaining it."
He shoved himself down upon his bed with a grunt and folded his arms across his chest as he peered up at the dark-distorted ceiling of his dorm. The sanguine inflated emotions began to mitigate, and Victor huffed amidst the silence. His unexpected frustration had clouded his awareness and he failed to see Paras slip from his own bed and crawl upon him sans any indication. The reptilian flinched momentarily but the soft touch of his friend soothed him like yoghurt to a sunburn.
Victor wrapped his arms around his roommate and he squeezed him close; an inaudible appreciation of Paras's loyalty to him during the worst, as well as a reinjection of happiness into his mind-frame.
"I'm sorry for teasing you," Paras whispered, his voice an elixir of healing to Victor's reminiscent chagrin. "You must understand, you are much cuter when angry, Sanam."
"Cute?" gasped Victor, holding Paras close, "I think I want to vomit."
Paras snuggled into his mate. "Yes. You get a wrinkle between your eyebrows when you're angry."
"I?" Victor crunched his brow and outlined a crease above the bridge of his nose with his finger.
"Yes, that wrinkle. I like it," confirmed Paras, resting his chin upon his folded arms whilst peering into Victor's eyes. "Perhaps if I anger you enough, that wrinkle will become permanent."
"Ha!" Victor chortled, lifting his brow immediately and banishing the crease to a future frown. "Then I'd better start practicing sexier faces that include that specific wrinkle."
"I..I'd like that."
"Like it enough to dream about it?" Victor quipped back, displaying a row of teeth.
Before Paras could interject, Victor continued.
"I still want to know," he said, pushing his chest out further to support Paras's weight above. "Feel free to start whenever you want."
"I forget how persistent you are, Sanam," replied Paras. "But very well. I'll tell you. You wish you know everything?"
"Everything."
"Kahām̐ sē śurū karanē kē li'ē? Where do I start?" Paras sighed with a grin.
"I did what?" Victor gasped with an O-shaped mouth. "Why would you dream of me doing that?"
"May I remind you Sanam, you wished for all the details and I am giving you just that."
"Yeah but I hardly expected you to say that!" Victor replied back, his eyes wide. "I did hear you right, right?"
"I'll repeat myself," said Paras. "First you announced your love for Noriko and then you told me that you planned to runaway from the world with her, and that you two would get married."
Victor cringed. "Even if you paid me every last cent on this planet, I would never go near that girl. What in the name of God made you dream of that?"
"It is not what you expected?" Paras asked, lifting a mirthful eyebrow.
"You didn't just ask me that?! You thought I was expecting you to tell me that you dreamt of me having an affair with Noriko Ashida? Fucking Noriko Ashida? You do remember what she did to me in the DR yesterday, don't you?"
"I can not control my dreams, Sanam. I am sorry." Paras interjected.
Victor deflated and placed a melancholic hand upon Paras's back. "You got my hopes up," he sighed, wiping his forehead. "You teaser."
Paras smiled. "I cannot control your hopes either, Sanam. But if you do not mind me asking, what were you expecting?"
Victor froze; his reply was bolstered by the unexpected redness in his green cheeks, which mirrored his mortification.
"Well?" Paras persisted, grinning.
"It's not obvious?" Victor stammered.
"Not for me," the violet mutant lied, milking Victor for all he was worth. "Please, enlighten me."
"Weeeeell," Victor drawled out, showing a row of slightly jagged teeth, "this is awkward."
Paras grinned. "I am wrong in guessing that what you expected was more.. revealing?"
Victor froze again, the blood in his cheeks now scintillating a bombastic rouge. "You could say that."
Paras grinned. "How revealing?"
Victor smiled sheepishly and chuckled a 'Heh, Heh,' sound. "Use your imagination."
"I'm afraid it is very late. My imagination may not be working at this time."
"Don't play that!" Victor grunted mirthfully, his smile growing wider as Paras's face formed a feigned pensive expression.
"Oh how do you say it in English?" he asked himself. "Isn't it called: giving someone a taste of their own medicine?"
Victor conceded and wrapped his arms around his roommate. "Lets not play games. You know what I was expecting."
Paras grinned and ruffled his head against Victor's chest. "Yes. Yes I do."
"Then why not start again? Except this time, why don't you tell me of a different dream. One that doesn't include marriages, affairs or for God's sake, Noriko Ashida."
Paras's armor was chipped, and an expression of slight apprehension bolstered the muscles in his face. "V..Very well. I hope – forgive me, I can - recollect a different one."
"So you have dreamt about me?" Victor asked with hope and mirth.
"Yes," Paras replied matter-of-factly, hiding his concern. "I dreamt of you just a few hours ago, didn't I?"
"That was about Noriko, Paras! Noriko! It hardly counts."
"And why does it not?" he asked back.
"You really want me to spell it out?" Victor asked, apparently fed up with playing games.
"No. I am joking. I know of the dreams you speak of and I've had m..many of them – a..about you."
Victor melted into the mattress. The duvet surrounding him suddenly felt like a cloud that had inhaled him into its cottony limbs.
"Same here," he replied softly.
A silence twirled around both teenagers for a moment until Victor spoke again. "I miss you, you know." He smiled faintly and looked down at Paras, whose eyes had been escorted to something insignificant – as far as Victor was concerned - at the other side of the room. "When we're in different classes, I miss you. When you're in the shower, I miss you. When you're asleep, I miss you. I pretty much just miss you all the time."
Paras – now battling mild fear for what was to come and the feeling of utter bliss – flickered his eyes upon Victor's countenance, and his friend's words left his reptilian lips like a mellifluous melody, but also like the ominous caws of a raven.
"Why are you telling me this?" Paras asked, flirting with the beginning of a whisper as his eyes reluctantly melted into Victor's.
"Because I just want you to know it."
Victor's words unbuckled Paras and the teenager had to rein his impulse – the one that demanded he return to his bed.
"And I want you to be happy," replied the violet teenager, defying the voices of the elders back in India which churned behind his eyes. "Even if I was sent to live in a jungle for the rest of my life, I would to be happy with simply knowing that you are happy, Sanam."
Their gazes danced with each other for a time; their eyes searched each other's until Victor broke the moment, his face unexpectedly mirroring a plethora of anguished emotions which seemed almost suppressed until Paras had replied. "You deserve better than me," Victor said with resignation, sitting up on the bed and allowing his roommate to roll off of him.
Paras felt an instant shock of relief and pain shoot through his body; Victor had broken the intimacy, but a part of Paras was remorseful that that had to happen. He flushed out the doubts in his mind, and Victor's words supplanted everything else, so he turned to face him. "You listen to me," he demanded in response, bringing his hands to Victor's cheeks and pulling the boy's face into his, until their foreheads touched, "I would not be Paras Gavaskar if it wasn't for you, Victor. You made me who I am and you saved me as much as I saved you."
Victor inhibited an unexpected tear as his past bled into his mind and was soothed by the presence of Paras. "Can I kiss you?" he asked with hope, his needing pants tickling the lips of the purple student before him. Paras flinched and his lip raised as he breathed in a reluctant, yet necessary, breath of air. Their intimacy had reached its zenith – he would let it go no further, and would have to apprise Victor of this. Paras hated having to think of their intimacy as a bowl of water balancing on the head of a tribeswoman; it could only go so far before he had to do the deed and call Victor out on his advancements.
"You know I can't," replied Paras with a remorseful, shaky sigh. "I'm required to avoid any sexual thoughts or indulgence with anyone in order to achieve Moksha. You know this Victor. Even how I feel for you is a sin."
His words pierced Victor, albeit unintentionally, and the reptilian had to subdue the momentary resentment that generated inside of him. "So we'll never be together?" he sniffed, quickly swiping away a tear whilst denying its existence to himself and Paras – but more importantly, himself.
"We are together now, Sanam."
"That's not what I mean."
"You speak of the fact we cannot be physical?" Paras asked, as if the topic was taboo.
"Yes," replied Victor, unsure of why he was feeling guilty – or dirty – for speaking of something under the subject of the "s," word.
"My faith is very important to me, Sanam. I am on a path of enlightenment to save myself from the circle of birth, death and rebirth, and I can not do this by breaking the rules of my beliefs," replied Paras, in a voice that now failed to mitigate the lump of distress in Victor's stomach, "Please understand."
"I try," replied Victor, twiddling his fingers, "but it's getting harder and harder. I just can't see how hugging me is all that different from kissing me."
Paras sighed. "It is my fault. I shouldn't tease you like this." Victor turned his head and faced Paras, making no claims to restriction. "So you'll stop hugging me now too then?" The reptile chuckled sarcastically and continued. "What will happen when you're completely 'enlightened,' and don't want to touch me at all, incase god-forbid, you think of me in an inappropriate way? That's not a healthy way to live."
"It is how I wish to live," replied Paras, agitation creeping into his ascending tone.
"You want to live without touching me?" Victor bit back.
"It is not preferable, no," replied the violet student, gritting his teeth. "But it is what I must do to achieve Moksha!"
"But you just said that it was your wish!" Victor contradicted, standing to his feet and turning to face his roommate. "Can you just make up your mind already? Are you repulsed by me? Because of my skin? Is that it?"
"No!" Paras shouted, jumping to his feet as an expired jack-in-the-box. "Do not say such things! You know this is false!"
"Are you using your faith to hide the fact you don't like me?"
"I will not listen to you. How dare you accuse me of this. Do not change the facts to support your ridiculous theory," Paras responded, maintaining a calm, yet firm tone.
"Is it that ridiculous, Par? You cuddle up to me and then you slither away when it goes further than that. And then you play the "I must remain pure," card whenever it suits you."
"That is because this is true! I must remain pure."
"Then remain pure on your own – I need a break," barked Victor, before turning for the door and exiting with a slam. Paras sighed and fell onto Victor's bed; confusion, anger and despair filled him, and he threw his eyes onto his palms.
"Ōha vikṭara, sirpha agara tuma ēka jaina bhī thē," he sighed, before standing to his feet.
He needed to pray, after all, and nothing would come in the way of that.
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"Stupid violet skinned idiot," Victor grunted to himself, as he paced down the halls. "How can someone so smart act so stupidly?"
As he descended the stairs and ambled through the occupied halls of the school, he noticed the faces of the other students as they questioned the reason behind the scowl painted across his face.
"Why does he let himself get controlled by his faith? Can't he make an exception for me?" grumbled Victor.
He advanced past the classrooms, and trudged into the cafeteria, finding a seat and plopping down onto it. He continued to grunt and mumble to himself and when Mark Sheppard took the chair to his left, Victor had no idea.
"Paras, you drive me crazy sometimes," Victor groaned to himself.
"He's driving you crazy? Aren't you too a bit young for that?" asked Mark, as Victor almost jumped from his seat.
"What the? No, no." He waved his arms in front of his face dismissively and swung his eyes back. "I'm not in the mood for you Mark. Get lost."
"Oooh," he cawed. "That kind of crazy. You two are fighting?"
"No! I said go away!"
"What're you fighting about?" asked the black haired student, neutral as he questioned.
"It's none of your business," Victor snapped back.
"You both still.. together? Wanna talk about it?"
"Yeah we are! Leave me alone, Mark!" Victor's knuckles resembled snow topped mountains as his smallest one began to twitch simultaneous to the emergence of a muscle in his jaw. Mark's face didn't seem to etch as much mirth on itself as Victor expected and thus, he allowed himself to deflate – a little. Mark's levity was strangely absent; Victor almost wished it were there, as Mark's strange firmness took him by surprise.
"Why do you look like you care?" asked Victor with a huff.
Mark half-smiled and fondled the headphones on his neck. "What happened?"
Victor rolled his eyes and grunted. "I asked why do you care?"
"Just trying to help."
"And since when does Mark Sheppard actually help people?" Victor snapped back with a sarcastic cackle. "All you ever do is act like a dickhead. Say what you want about Paras and his religion, but at least he doesn't go around putting people down."
"So this is about Paras's religion?" mused Mark, his eyes pensively tracing the aligned lines of the ceiling panels.
Victor halted in his reply and thought of ways how Mark's presence masked an underlying prank that endeavored to embarrass Victor as revenge for his triumph in the Danger Room; if only he knew of Mark's confidence in him when Noriko and Ben had resigned themselves to doubt and planned to eliminate him. Victor remained unaware of the irony of the fact that he questioned the motives of the one person that actually – at one particular moment – believed in him.
"What're you up to?" Victor asked, folding his arms, a physical symbol of his wish to protect himself from self-incrimination. "What're you planning? Are you still pissed that I beat you in the DR? If so, take a number and join the queue of people, behind Noriko and Ben, who want to re-assert their power and put me in my place."
Mark laughed. "Hah! No offense Vicki, but I don't think about you enough to care about putting you in your place."
"But you think enough about me to ask about my personal relations?" inquired the reptilian, cautiously raising his eyes to scrutinize Mark.
Mark reddened. "Erm. Well, Heh. This is awkward. You got me there. I guess I should say that I don't."
"Then answer my question again," Victor said firmly. "Why are you here?"
"I said that I was just asking, okay? Jeez, sorry for trying!" Mark stood to his feet and turned to walk away, but was called back by Victor, who didn't avert his gaze.
"You want to know?" he asked, lying back on the chair, "You think you can help me? Fine. I could do with some help so I'll run it past you. I don't really care if this is a trap – I have nothing to hide."
Mark sat down. "No strings attached," he assured, intertwining his fingers on the desk. "So why don't you tell your buddy Mark what's on your mind?"
"There's a few things," Victor exclaimed, pulling his hands over the scales on his head. "The first thing is that I'm not your buddy. Don't call yourself that, because it's not true."
Mark shrugged. "We clear?" Victor asked, before being met with a nod. "Good. And two, you never call me Vicky – not if you want to keep your arms or those headphones of yours."
"I thought we said no strings attached?" Mark asked with widened eyes.
"That's working one way."
"That's not fair!"
"Life's a bitch, suck it up," Victor said, sans mirth, emitting a slightly uneasy and forced smile from Mark. After showing he was ready to listen and abide by the rules, Mark nodded and denoted Victor to begin.
"It was all fine up until a while ago," started Victor, a frown arresting the neutral expression on his face. "We were cuddling, and I asked to kiss him and he said no – again – because he thinks he won't be freed from Muksah of whatever he calls it."
Mark, who was taken aback at the word 'cuddling,' nodded, and Victor continued. "I tried to understand but now I'm sorta insulted because I'm worried he doesn't want to touch me and he's just using the religion thing as a front. He has no problem cuddling up to me - apparently that's okay, but kissing is not."
Mark shuffled uncomfortably and Victor went on. "I said it to him," he admitted, slouching his shoulders as Mark raised his head. "I said it to him because I was pissed. He talks with this flowery language all the time and reminds me of - and I quote - 'everything we've been through,' but what he says doesn't add up to what he does and that annoys me."
Mark interjected with an ahem, bringing his fist to his mouth as he feigned a throat clearing. "You said this to him?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Vicki, or Victor, you called me the dickhead?"
"What're you getting at?" asked Victor with an almost-indignant scoff.
"Such a little guy with such a big temper. You'd give Noriko a run for her money. Sorry!" he said, adding the latter as response to the embers of fury that danced in the reptile's eyes. "But in all seriousness, what if ParPar expected you to cut off your arm for him? Would you do it?"
"Well, it would grow back, so yes," Victor said flatly, with the where are you going with this look pinning Mark to his chair.
"Well let's say it didn't," replied Mark with a groan. "Go back to before you were a mutant, back when you weren't able to replace arms faster than you could ignite your temper."
Victor huffed. "Fine. Go on."
"If Paras asked you to cut off your arm – and it wouldn't grow back – would you do it?"
"Apart from the fact your example is completely whack, no. I wouldn't cut off my arm for him," said Victor without an iota of hesitation.
"And why is that?" Mark asked, surprised at the speed of the reptile's reply.
"Because I would be too angry that he'd expect that of me."
Mark smiled. "And I rest my case."
"You rest your? What? What do you mean?" Victor asked, his neck craning outwards as his eyes peered at Mark in bewilderment.
"You wouldn't cut off your arm because you'd be annoyed that he'd expect that from you? Sound familiar? Reverse the roles here – what if you asked him to cut off his arm for you?"
The penny dropped with Victor and he pressed his body against the table with certainty that he had found an obvious flaw in Mark's argument.
"You're not seriously going to compare Paras's religious reluctance to kiss me with him asking me to cut my arm off? Proportions, Mark, proportions! There's a huge gap in comparison."
"Maybe for you," replied the musical mutant with a smile. "But not for him. To Paras, living by his faith is a life or death situation. By forcing him to break his rules, you are asking him to cut off his arm. Living by his faith is what – he believes – grants him eternal heaven or whatever you want to call it. It's unfair of you to make him choose you or his religion. Both of you are obviously important to the guy, so if you really do care about him, you won't put him in a position where he has to choose."
Victor froze, and Mark's words pierced him like a dagger. He felt exhumed by a parallel universe of sorts – a twisted dimension where Mark Sheppard actually spoke sense. The reptilian's mind stuttered over a possible reply, and he attempted to augment his own argument with hopes of adding another layer of contradictions or come-backs to devalue Mark's words. He failed miserably, however, and Victor sat in his chair, feeling a shred more ashamed than he had moments ago.
"It's maybe unlucky for you that Paras is the way he is, but as you said yourself, life's a bitch. You can either suck it up, or be a dickhead and walk away. But I can't help you on that one. That's your job VicVic."
Victor sighed. "I didn't mean that. You're not a dickhead. Shit. Didn't mean to call you that."
Mark laughed before snatching a serviette from the table, crumpling it, and chucking it at Victor. "No hard feelings Vicky."
"So what now? What do I do now?" the reptile asked, feeling lost as the foundations for his hotheadedness were swept away.
"Well, erm. Just say sorry to the guy. It's not that hard."
"I don't do apologies," said Victor immediately, as if he was quickly reciting a phrase or mantra under the command of a teacher.
"Well then," Mark said, lifting an eyebrow, "take option two and walk away. Your choice."
"There is no option two."
Mark smiled. "Well then I think it's obvious then, eh?" He stood to his feet, cracked his knuckles and peered down at Victor one last time. "Just give him time, man. Don't expect the poor guy to change – if he even changes at all – in the space of two or three years or how ever long you've known each other. Paras is a good guy, don't screw it all up over tonsil tennis."
Victor flinched before Mark turned to walk away, and his eyes watched as he pursued the main doors. Victor muttered two words that went unnoticed by the black haired mutant, and as the double doors assumed their position on the hinges and concealed the departed mutant behind them, Victor whispered them, with no-one but himself to receive them.
"Thank you."