Rainbow's Thought Volcano: Hey, everyone! Welcome back to Moontalia!
This chapter is super long, but not quite long enough to split into two. So I decided rather than squishing it or stretching it out, I'd just leave it the way it was and hope you guys didn't mind to much. And also due to its length, there is a whole wide range of feels coming from this chapter. And since it's been awhile since my last update, I tried to toss in little reminders so you could remember what was going on in the story. Enjoy!
The scientists found themselves once again on the cliff behind Feliciano's house, overlooking the lighthouse below. The sounds of his piano notes still played in the background. With no one around, the pair headed southwards.
They came across Feliciano's house, but this time, incomplete and under construction. Many wooden panels and pillars were built, but that was all. It was clear that the house was nowhere near complete. It was barely a wooden frame.
"Well, look what we have here," Arthur remarked, gesturing towards an unpainted wall.
"I bet they saw this cliff, and then thought it was not dangerous enough without people living on it," Alfred quipped. Arthur suppressed a small chuckle.
The piano notes faded away to be replaced with the crashing ocean waves. The pair made their way to the front of the house and found Feliciano resting against the wall. He looked exhausted, as though he had recently done some work on his home. He panted heavily, and as his breaths evened, he clutched at his forehead in frustration.
A blurry man approached from the south of Feli's half-built house. He had a calm and patient disposition, though treaded towards Feliciano with weighted steps. He had a tidy haircut where parts of the obsidian black hue had been scraped down to gray.
"Antonio asked that I come see you. Did you attempt to complete the house on your own?" the calm man asked. Feliciano looked up and allowed his face to soften.
"Kiku! It's been too long! Let me give you a hug!" Feliciano exclaimed, standing up with a bit of trouble. He finally reached Kiku and they embraced, holding onto each other for dear life.
"I brought you some fresh tomatoes and potatoes from our garden. And pickled olives, of course," Kiku offered, his accent muffling the l's and r's in his words. He brought out a basket filled with produce, which Feliciano accepted gratefully. They sat down together on the ground, and leaned their old backs against the wall. They began to chat about trivial things unrelated to Alfred and Arthur's goal.
"They sure are friendly," Alfred noted, "Why wasn't Kiku in any of his later memories? If they're this close, shouldn't he have been there for Feli after Louise died?" Arthur couldn't help but wonder himself. But before he could reply, Kiku said something that caught their attention.
". . . I heard about Louise. Will she pull through?" Feliciano stopped, looked to Kiku, and then looked down again as he exhaled a breath.
"Her illness was just diagnosed in its late stage. Fortunately, it's treatable. But the medical bills . . . " Feliciano took a deep breath. "We can't afford to finish building the house. We can barely afford to pay for her treatment. I'm relieved that she'll be okay, but. . . you know how much this place means to her. She's going to be heartbroken!" Feliciano burst into tears, and Kiku offered an awkward though earnest shoulder. It was strange for the scientists to see their patient being openly emotional. In his later memories, he had seemed so closed off.
"If I could help, you know I would. But things have been difficult since the stock market crashed," Kiku comforted. Feliciano calmed down and sat up straight again.
"I have to tell her that we can afford everything. I know if I didn't, she would do something crazy," Feliciano stated. He pulled out a handkerchief and blew his nose.
"You shouldn't lie to her," Kiku noted carefully. Feliciano shook his head.
"No, if I told her, I don't know which one she would choose."
"If she wants to not save herself for the sake of this place, she should be free to choose so," Kiku pushed. Alfred and Arthur could tell that was unusual for the man by the way Feliciano reacted. He began to think hard.
"I know, Kiku, I know. But . . . if she dies, then what am I supposed to do? I spent my whole life relying on her to be there for me. I don't want to be alone!" Feliciano began crying again, and the sight was almost too much for anyone watching to bear. Feliciano sunk his head into Kiku's chest and gripped at his shirt. His sobs were loud and ugly and desperate. Kiku swallowed hard and tried to think of a way to calm down his friend.
"You could pick some flowers from the cliffside for Louise. It might bring her some comfort," Kiku suggested, awkwardly patting Feliciano's head. The Italian man lifted his head slowly and looked into his friend's eyes.
"That's a good idea. I'll go and put some in a vase to put in that dreary room. It should help cheer her up," Feliciano reasoned, standing with a bit of effort.
"Oh, I almost forgot. I have this for you too," Kiku said, standing up as well. He reached into the bottom of the basket and pulled out a small, hand-carved wooden box.
"A music box? For me?" Feliciano asked, eyes lighting up. He accepted the gift with two eager hands and opened the lid. A soft melody filled the air.
"It's called, 'Everything's Alright,'" Kiku explained. Suddenly, the smile fell from Feliciano's lips.
". . . But it isn't. And for the first time in my life . . . I don't know if it will be," Feliciano murmured. He walked off to the side of the house to find some flowers, and Kiku followed behind.
For once, Alfred seemed to understand the mood. He didn't speak a word as the pair searched for the memory links, and found the memento in the jar of pickled olives that Kiku brought. Arthur silently charged the memento with the links and activated it. The world flashed brightly, in contrast to the sullen mood that had woven its way around them.
This time, Alfred and Arthur found themselves in a quaint restauraunt area with a warm and comforting atmosphere. It immediately put them at ease. They spotted Feliciano sitting at a table with Louise, Kiku, and Antonio. The gray hair that plagued them in Feliciano's later memories was now nearly non-existent. Feliciano's tablemates' degrees of clarity ranged from the perfectly solid Louise and mostly solid Kiku to the mostly fuzzy Antonio. A dark, human-esque figure manned the bar, and a few other shadowed people filled the tables. A plate of pickled olives sat in the middle of Feliciano's table, perhaps as an appetizer. Alfred and Arthur took an unoccupied table next to the group of four.
"So, you guys are really going for it, then?" Antonio asked. Feliciano glanced happily to his wife and she offered a microscopic smile in return.
"Yep! The construction's starting in just a few months. It's a bit of a squeeze and we had to split the payment. But with Louisa's financing, everything should be okie dokie!"Feliciano chirped. It was refreshing to see him so excited and optimistic.
"How wonderful, having your dream house built at such a beautiful site," Kiku commented.
"I can remember when you had your wedding at that lighthouse near there all those years ago," Antonio noted, sighing with nostalgia.
"That's not all that's special about it," Feliciano added, "We have a long history with that place. Don't we, Louisa?" he looked to his wife again, and this time she gave him a full smile. His smile, in return, grew ten times in size.
"Well, it's good to have some good news at a get-together for once! Cheers and congratulations, Louise and Feli!" Antonio exclaimed.
"Cheers!" The table cried, bringing their glasses together.
"I wish to get some fresh air. I will return shortly," Kiku said calmly. Louise stood up too.
"I'll be out for a bit too," she said. The two left through a door that Feliciano didn't remember.
"Hey, Feli, it's sure been a while," Antonio started. Feliciano chuckled.
"It has! Who knew how hard it would be to get across a few cities nowadays," he commented. A beat of silence passed between them.
"That Louise, she is still so quiet and stern, huh?" Antonio asked.
"Actually she's been really talkative at home, and with Kiku of course. I guess she's just not used to you," Feliciano admitted.
"So I'm the bad guy here, huh?" Antonio asked, laughing heartily. As he calmed, his brows furrowed. "I don't mean to ruin the occasion, but . . . did you tell Louise about that thing from back then?"
Feli furrowed his eyebrows, too, but in confusion. Suddenly he seemed to pick up on what Antonio was trying to say. "I did."
"So how did she take it?" Antonio asked. Feliciano fell silent.
"What are they talking about? The news of Louise's illness?" Alfred questioned to his partner.
"Don't be daft. Louise hasn't gotten sick yet, remember? We're further in the past, not the future," Arthur replied.
"Oh yeah. This would be easier to keep track of if everyone weren't so vague! Stupid backwards storytelling," Alfred whined.
"Although, this way it does offer higher replay-ability, don't you think?" Arthur asked. Alfred's jaw dropped, stunned.
"Did you just compare our jobs to a video game?"
"Well, I—" Arthur sputtered.
"Dude! I can't believe it! Should I be checking for flying pigs now too?"
"Oh, shut your bloody trap!" Immediately afterwards, Arthur gasped. Realization slowly dawned on Alfred.
". . . Does that count as a swear word?" Alfred asked slyly, an evil grin spreading on his cheeks.
"No it does NOT! Just do your flipping job!"
Feliciano piped up again, ready to answer Antonio's question. The bickering scientists halted and poured their interest back into Feliciano.
"She took it way better than I expected, but ever since I told her, she's been making these weird bunnies out of paper."
"Origami rabbits?" Antonio asked. Feliciano nodded enthusiastically.
"Yes. Tons of them! Hundreds and hundreds!"
"What's wrong with that? I used to make them for my nieces and nephews all the time," Antonio reasoned. Feliciano shook his head vigorously.
"No, it's not the same thing! She's just been making rabbits, day in and day out! I mean, they're really neat and fancy, and probably the best paper rabbits in the whole world, but she's filled up our teeny house with them!"
Antonio placed a hand to his chin in thought. "Didn't Kiku say things like that might just be a symptom of her condition? You know, like a coping mechanism?"
"Yes, but something doesn't feel right this time. Whenever I ask her about it, she doesn't answer. She just gets this distant look in her eye, like she wants me to do something. And it's really weird because I feel like I owe her something. But I don't know what!" Feliciano deflated onto the table. If Antonio hadn't known him for so long, he would've found the display very amusing. And, if he were honest, he found it a little amusing even now.
"Have you asked Kiku? He is a psychologist, after all," Antonio offered.
"Of course! I went to him first! He said he couldn't get anything from her either. Louisa, why can't you just talk to me?" Feliciano cried.
Antonio offered him a gentle pat on the shoulder. "Cheer up, mi amigo. I'm sure it will be fine. I've known you since middle school and you have never been one to overthink things, so why start now?"
"I guess you're right. At least when we built the house, we'll have plenty of time to talk to each other in our new home!" Feliciano chirped. Arthur felt a brick pummel his stomach at his words. If only Feliciano knew.
"Wait, so even Feli didn't know what was up with those rabbits? Great," Alfred grumbled. Arthur found himself disappointed, once again, at Alfred's lack of understanding for human emotions. But as he looked around the bar, he saw an even bigger issue.
"Forget about the rabbits, we've got a bigger problem. It's a confined memory and there are no mementos anywhere," Arthur warned.
"Don't worry, we can probably draw one out of him," Alfred explained.
"How?" Arthur deadpanned.
"Watch and learn, Artie-boy." Alfred leapt from their table and ran over to the shadowy bartender. He had to escape before Arthur punched him. Alfred knew how much his partner abhorred nicknames.
"Howdy, bartender! Could I get an order of pickled olives, please?"
"Sure. Cash or credit?"
"Check," Alfred answered, whipping out a company-supplied checkbook specifically for making transactions within memories.
"Er . . . I'm sorry, we don't take checks," the bartender said.
Alfred slowly pocketed his book. So much for Sig Corp's tools. "Oh . . . Just put it on my tab then."
"Wait, does that mean you don't have any money?" the bartender interrogated. Alfred rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.
" . . . You're so getting resetted." He pressed a few buttons on his watch, and a white color washed over the bartender, as if he had been wiped clean.
"Hey there! Can I get you anything?" the bartender asked, his previous conversation completely forgotten.
"Good day. Could I trouble you for an order of pickled olives, please?"
"Sure. Cash or credit?"
"Just put it on my tab. I feel like spending BIG today," Alfred replied, leaning casually along the bar. This time, the bartender was more than eager to oblige.
"Oh, thank you, sir! Here're your pickled olives." The bartender graciously offered them to Alfred.
"Thanks, bro! You'll be getting an enormous amount of tips today!" He flashed a thumbs-up before walking away with his plate of pickles.
"You're such an ass-myptote, Alfred," Arthur hissed. Alfred grinned and rubbed his neck sheepishly. He walked over to Feliciano.
"Why, is that a plate of pickled olives that you're sporting?
"Yup! Are you a fellow olive lover?" Feliciano asked curiously.
"Indeed I am! Just got a fresh bottle of them myself, in fact! Mind if I join you?"
"Sure, why don't you grab a seat? We can down a plate together!"
"Oh, uh . . . sounds swell." Alfred suddenly realized a major flaw in his amazing plan: he would have to actually eat the pickled olives. Normally, Alfred would eat almost anything. But with foods he hated, he refused to taste them again. And he really hated pickled olives.
"Arthur!" he barked to his partner "Disable taste simulation NOW!"
"Oh, golly, Alfred, I just don't think I feel like it," Arthur replied, resting his chin on his hand in amusement.
"You ass! Please? PLEASE!" Alfred cried.
"Sorry," Arthur paused for dramatic effect, "Alfie-boy."
"And that was our very first pinky swear!"
"Ah-. . . ack. . . ahh. . . " Alfred sputtered. He had tried to swallow without chewing to minimize the flavor, but he ended up nearly choking on the olive, thus increasing its time in his mouth.
"Hey, are you okay?" Feliciano asked, concern lacing his words.
"Yeah. . . I'm just. . . savoring the amazingness of pickled olives," Alfred affirmed, producing a shaky thumbs-up.
"They're wonderful, aren't they?" Feliciano asked rhetorically.
"Yeah, I just can't understand how anyone could . . . ugh . . . find such things to be disgusting." Alfred continually had to suppress his gag reflex. And without a drink to wash it down, his mouth and throat were excruciatingly sore.
"Take your time. We've got two more plates coming!"
As their conversation progressed, Alfred slowly gained the required memory links. Luckily for him, Feliciano was quite the chatterbox, so Alfred was able to use Feliciano's words as an excuse to not eat the olives. Unluckily for him, Feliciano's chatter prolonged the time Alfred had to sit with the corrosive pang of pickled olives in his mouth.
"Actually I have it with me! Want to see it?" Feliciano chirped.
"Yes, that would be great," Alfred affirmed with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. Feliciano brought some sort of legal document. If Alfred had been paying better attention, he'd have known what it was. But the important thing was not the words on the paper, but rather the fact that it was a memento.
"Annnd . . . freeze!" he yelled, pressing a button on his watch. The people and shadowed figures alike stopped moving in a flash of light. "Finally! Thank God!"
"How were the olives, Alfred?" Arthur asked, coming up beside him. Alfred glared at his partner.
"Shut up. You're too mean to me, sadist," Alfred pouted.
"I admit I almost felt bad for you," Arthur said, hoping to mollify his partner.
"Really?" he asked, perking up a little.
"Almost," Arthur clarified.
"Oh." And with that Alfred sunk back into the table, body and spirit drained by pickle olives and prickly partners. Arthur sighed, resigning to the knowledge that he'd have to perk up Alfred again before they could continue.
"It was wrong of me to force you to taste all those olives. I know you're usually not a picky eater, so I was a bit curious, but that's no excuse. I'm sorry. I should've respected your boundaries more," Arthur admitted. Alfred sat up straight in his seat, shocked by Arthur's words. Alfred looked to his partner, who coughed once into his closed fist and cast his eyes to the ground. Alfred couldn't help a small smile.
"Heh, thanks. It's pretty rare to get an apology from you," Alfred admitted. "Okay, let's activate this puppy and get the heck out of here!" Alfred was about to infuse the memento with the memory links, but Arthur stopped him.
"Wait, don't you dare—"
"Don't worry, sheesh, I'll do it by the books," Alfred affirmed. Not a moment later, he cried, "HULK SMAAAAASH!" as the sphere around the memento shattered.
"Alfred, seriously, we almost had a nice moment," Arthur sighed. Alfred, in return, grinned sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck.
". . . Totally worth it."
Despite Arthur's earlier words, the moment between them had still been nice. Just in a different way. And they were finally getting into happier times in Feliciano's life. Things were looking up as they went deeper into Feliciano's past.
Rainbow's Thought Volcano: Both of these scenes were warped considerably from their To the Moon counterparts, but I feel this way it better matches the characters. Speaking of characters, I recently realized that Francis won't be able to make an appearance anywhere and I'm am very downtrodden. It hurts, guys. Oh, Francis! My one and only love, forgive me for giving your spot in the story to Antonio! He was better suited to the mystery, and to the plot twist!
Meh, I'll probably find somewhere for him. He's just too plot-convenient to any romance to leave out. And if he's not in Feliciano's past, you can bet there'll be a place for him at Sig Corp so he can play matchmaker to Alfred and Arthur.