When Tomorrow Burns

With a sigh, Alastair carefully placed the book in the drawer, making a mental note to revisit it later.

Leaving the room, he looked at the drawer one last time before descending the stairs to investigate the commotion below. Reaching the ground floor, he found himself amid a heated quarrel unfolding in front of the reception area.

Four individuals stood in the chaos's centre, two locked in a tense confrontation. The receptionist attempted to intervene, but her efforts fell on deaf ears.

"You should be apologizing! Don't you know who I am?!" One of the guys exclaimed, jabbing an accusatory finger at the person

The other individual appeared visibly flustered, his voice tinged with nervousness as he retorted, "How is it my fault? I didn't do anything,"

The tension in the air was palpable as the argument escalated, leaving Alastair to wonder what had sparked such a heated exchange between the two.

As the tension reached its peak, the angry individual seized his opponent's collar, his anger boiling over.

Alastair hesitated but couldn't stand by and watch the situation escalate further, especially with the receptionist caught in the middle.

He approached the fray and, without much of a plan, placed a calming hand on the shoulder of the brown-haired boy who was shouting a moment ago. He bore a striking resemblance to Lawrence. His furious gaze met Alastair's, brimming with defiance.

"Who the hell are you? Stay out of this," he snapped back, his frustration evident.

Suppressing a sigh, Alastair refused to back down. "Quit with the attitude. This isn't some gameshow. You're only going to get in trouble," Alastair retorted, his tone firm.

"Listen here, you brat," he spat out angrily, his voice laced with hostility.

His anger seemed to only intensify at Alastair's words, prompting him to release his grip on the other person and instead latch onto Alastair's collar instead!

Well, this is backfiring real quick.

Despite the opponent's aggression, Alastair stood his ground, prepared to defend himself if necessary. After all, Alastair had faced his fair share of rebellious troublemakers in school.

As tensions reached a boiling point, suddenly the unexpected intervention of a third party momentarily defused the volatile situation.

The individual, observing the altercation from a distance, approached the brown-haired youth and tapped him on the shoulder.

"What is it with you now-" the youth began, only to be silenced by the imposing figure's chilling glare. His presence exuded strength, and his demeanour made it clear that he brooked no nonsense.

"I have been waiting in this line for so long. Can you hurry up?" His voice cut through the tension like a knife, icy and impatient.

The brown-haired youth, seemingly taken aback by the interruption, released his grip on Alastair's collar, his bravado faltering in the face of this new confrontation turned around and quickly retreated, leaving the scene without another word.

Relieved, Alastair straightened his collar and exchanged a grateful glance with the receptionist, who appeared visibly relieved by the sudden cessation of hostilities.

Unfazed by the earlier altercation, the newcomer turned to the receptionist and calmly requested his room. The receptionist, still visibly surprised by the swift resolution of the conflict, was momentarily caught off guard.

"A-ah yes!" She stammered slightly before regaining her composure, nodding as she retrieved a black card and handed it to him.

Surprisingly, the man turned to him, and Alastair couldn't shake the feeling that he had somehow done something wrong.

"I am Igor," he said, bowing slightly towards Alastair. "It is good to meet you."

The sudden formality momentarily took aback Alastair, but after a beat, he managed to gather himself. "Alastair," he replied, his voice steady, though still slightly surprised by the unexpected introduction.

Igor's eyes lit up, and with a burst of energy, he eagerly shook Alastair's hand.

"I am happy to meet you, Alahstehr!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with enthusiasm.

"Yeah..." Alastair couldn't believe his name was being butchered so badly, but he just sighed and let it slide, too amused to correct him.

Right now, this guy was nothing like the cold person he had been just moments ago. Instead, he seemed like a puppy to Alastair. With his white hair framing his dark eyes, and his tall, broad frame, he appeared intimidating at first glance. But as he smiled, a softness in his expression emerged, making him look surprisingly gentle. The fuzzy jacket he wore only added to his mellow, almost comforting presence.

"Looks like we're roommates," Alastair remarked, noting the silver number imprinted on the card that he held in his left hand. Igor immediately held it up to show it more closely.

"Then let's get going,"

Igor's excitement grew as he picked up his luggage, eager to head to the room together. On the way, he spoke a lot about how bizarre it truly was to be selected to train for the DEA. He found it magical or as he likes to call it 'bomb', which just means that this was all so mind-blowing for him.

***

Alastair helped Igor settle into the room, and soon both of them felt comfortable, able to converse with ease. 

Igor began to share his story with Alastair.

Alastair perched on the edge of the bed, his elbow propped against his knee and his chin resting thoughtfully in his hand, his gaze steady and attentive.

Igor's voice carried a soft, almost wistful tone as he described his hometown—a quaint little village nestled in the heart of the Far East. He painted a vivid picture of a place teeming with life and beauty, where the air was thick with the aroma of blooming flowers and the vibrancy of nature was almost overwhelming. Towering, otherworldly mushrooms sprouted like ancient sentinels among bursts of brilliantly coloured shrubbery, creating a lush tapestry of greens, yellows, and reds.

"You have to cut the mooshroom, or they get too big and block the sunlight," he explained, his tone dead serious, as if the fate of the entire garden depended on it. Alastair couldn't help but chuckle at the intensity in his voice, amused by how passionate he was about his mushrooms.

"My uncle was a bohtuhneest, I wanted to become one too... study nature and all," he said, his words tinged with mild irritation as he struggled with some of the English pronunciations. "He used to develop different medicines and ointments to help the villagers. Some of the shrubs there are poisonous, and often the farmers get sick."

"I wanted to help him, but then the DEA showed up. After an inspection, they told me I should come here. They said I'm strong and useful, but honestly, I think I'd be better off as a farmer. At least I wouldn't get into trouble." He said this with a lighthearted shrug, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Then, with a shift in tone, he began talking about his family, his relatives, and everyone he knew, letting the words flow freely.

Igor is quite talkative, his words tumbling out in an animated stream, while Alastair sat quietly, offering only the occasional nod or thoughtful glance, content to listen rather than interrupt.

"I am not good with people. I mostly scare them away." Igor said as he scratched his head in embarrassment. He's a strong guy but he's not the type to get scared from, Alastair thought, well, at least if he doesn't glare at you.

***

"Do you not know anything about your family?" Igor finally asked, his voice tinged with curiosity after watching Alastair stumble repeatedly, struggling to give a proper answer.

"I..." Alastair hesitated, his voice trailing off as silence settled between them. He searched his mind, trying to grasp at any fleeting memory of his parents, any moment shared, but nothing came. After a pause, he spoke again, quieter this time. "I don't remember much. Most of my childhood was spent with my grandparents, they say my parents died early, and that they were killed by one of the Devils that had breached the city."

Alastair lowered his gaze, staring at the ground. "Ever since then I had been alone." his voice trailed off. There was this heavy feeling in his chest suddenly. Igor had everyone, his parents, siblings, uncles, aunts and everyone, why did Alastair suddenly want to compare himself to him? The past was a hellhole and he was incomplete.

"Let's not talk about it, you are uncomfortable-" Igor said as he placed his hand on Alastair's shoulder, suddenly the door whooshed open and someone walked in without the least bit of courtesy nor hesitation.

"Ahh! Finally! I can stretch and get some sleep!" A black-haired male wearing golden-rimmed glasses said happily as he tossed his luggage to the side with a thud. 

"A shower would be nice," he said casually, his shirt already half unbuttoned.

When suddenly they made eye contact.

"..."

"..."

"..?"

His eyes widened, a dumbfounded expression spreading across his face. "Eh?" he blinked a few times, still processing the moment, before meeting the big fellow's intense glare.

"WHO ARE YOU?!" he shouted.

His voice probably cut through the air with such force that it seemed to reverberate off the walls, echoing throughout the entire inn and the whole place had been startled into stillness.

His face was flushed with embarrassment, and his hands fumbled to hastily button up his shirt.