[B-rank Exam] Homesick

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It was cold and quiet in the Hoffman estate, the time of night where all of the children had been put to sleep and everyone only spoke in a whisper. It was a property where many great private soldiers were born, and many more still in the making with each season's passing. By age eighteen, all of the children were sold away to some Bellan V.I.Ps and were seldom seen after that. It was closer to be a factory than a home, but everyone was content with that. No, maybe it was more accurate to say that everyone was happy with their fate. There was no greater honor than to serve some of Bellum's most important people, and there was no greater service than to live a life for their safety and well being. Dreams and ambitions of being anything other than a final product to be sold were just phases, and they were equipped with the finest education and healthcare that money could buy, but they'd never use their bright minds for themselves. And yet, everyone was content with it.

"What should we do? He's turning fourteen now, and still..." Ella Hoffman sounded worrisome as she caressed her jasmine tea, sitting at the dining room table as her long, brunette locks hung over her head. Sitting in the adjacent seat was a stern-looking man, Adam Hoffman, with short, black hair and marigold eyes. Together, they parented a dozen children in the estate.

"There's nothing more we can do except give him the same training we have for everyone else." Adam crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back into his chair as he stared at the table. There was a tinge of concern on his expression, but it was squashed with a harsh look of dismissal. "He's one of eleven promising children, so it should hardly be considered a loss if he's defective."

"I know, I know... but he'll be eighteen before you know it, and if he isn't fixed by then, what if Papa kills him?" Ella's face hardened a bit, staring into her reflection in the tea before slowly looking up to face Adam. "What do we do... if that day comes?"

"Move on, clearly. It's obvious that there's no helping him, so it's a little infuriating that we don't do it sooner," he sighed, looking almost annoyed, "He was just born... wrong. Maybe if we're lucky, we'll get reimbursed for the wasted resources we've invested into him. It's not like it's going anywhere—"

"—How could you say that about your own son?" Ella interrupted with a quiet snap, squeezing her teacup as she stared back into her own jasmine reflection. An uncomfortable silence filled the space between their chairs, and only their breaths could be heard. Adam glared at her, and it was clear that their binding of marriage was not one forged out of love and devotion. It was a pact of fertility and promising offspring, Ella marrying into the Hoffman family out of an arrangement beyond her control. It was just as easy to say that she, too, was a product of the Hoffmans. "Fourteen years and you haven't an ounce of compassion for your child?"

"He is my child, but also my greatest shame. He'll never amount to anything, so it's better that he died sooner than later," Adam looked away from Ella again, raising his glass to sip the jasmine tea from it calmly, "If you truly want to be kind to that child, you won't reciprocate his affections. There is nothing crueler than giving him false hope as he lives in a world where he doesn't belong."

It was silent again after that, neither Adam nor Ella exchanging glances or words as they discussed their son's fate. It wasn't often that the Hoffmans has defective children, but their had been enough to tell what would happen to them on the day of judgment. The dawn they turned eighteen, Hoffman children were officially sent away to Bellan clients who had purchased them, and were hardly ever seen again. Very few wrote home, and even fewer could be tracked.

"Did'ja hear that, Leon? Mama and Papa don't want you, and you're gonna die." said one girlish voice. It was a young girl named Kathleen, who was a few years younger than her brother. Standing just outside of the dining room door, cracked open just enough to peer inside to hear and see Ella and Adam Hoffman, was Leon. He looked just like his father, but unlike Adam's cold, unfeeling eyes, Leon's were brimmed with tears. Yet, his face didn't contort or squeeze like it would when people cried. Instead, was frowning—glaring almost—as the tears ran down his face. He wasn't angry, but that's just how he looked. Kathleen, on the other hand, was grinning, "Why do you always look so mean? Is it because you're gonna die? Papa says only cowards cry."

"L... Leave me alone, Kathleen... please," Leon begged through sniffles, squeezing something in his hands. He was holding what could only be described as a little robot, something he had managed to create from scratch. It was an impressive little thing, something he had wanted to show his parents. Why did he bother doing this all of the time? He was no stranger to overhearing these sorts of conversations, and many times they'd just tell him straight to his face that he was born wrong. His siblings did all sorts of things to him because of it, and no one batted an eye. He did so many things to impress them, but nothing ever worked. So why did he keep doing this to himself? "An-And... I'm not... crying! So—"


Leon's six-thirty alarm went off, waking him from his slumber to a worn-down apartment room furnished only with his bed, a table, a small kitchen, and a standing fan. He could hear the fan make that whirr sound as it blew air around the apartment he refused to use air conditioning for, as it was too expensive. He laid there topless, sprawled over his bed with a blanket that covered only part of his leg through his wild sleeping habits. His messy black bedhead laid over his sleepy marigold eyes as he stared up at the ceiling.

So it was just a dream... again, he thought to himself, pulling himself up and out of bed as he quietly turned off the alarm. He mindlessly brewed himself some coffee, brushed his teeth, got dressed, and dressed in his black motorbike equipment for the ride to Rose Garden, where he continued his newly-acquired work as Percy Dagger's assistant. He normally felt pretty eager about this stuff, but his head didn't feel like it'd be in the right headspace today. He was about to head out of the door before he paused and stared into his motorbike helmet's visor, looking at the reflection within. He didn't know what to say to himself to make him feel better. Leon wanted nothing more than to return back to Bellum to fulfill his purpose, but those memories and the harsh words in between never hurt any less. No one ever gets used to pain.

They just learn to make room for it.

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