"Wake up, "
"Wakey wakey....."
"Hehe you better wake up -- I'm getting bored," the voice chimed.
"If you don't wake up. You'll be eaten on the spot," the voice spoke flatly.
Lysander Xenian jolted awake. "Wha-? Eaten!?" He blinked and looked around to see an enormous ornate castle with pitch black tree limbs climbing along the walls and closed doors.
"Oh. You woke after all. Good evening," the voice he'd been hearing spoke pleasantly.
Instead of figuring out where he was, he focused on who spoke.
He frowned. "Jang?"
That sort of seemed right but the Jang before him had to be in his late twenties. Not fifteen like he should currently be. He squinted 'wait fifteen -?'
The Jang Giliheun in front of him had longer hair and wore a dark colored letterman jacket, with ripped black jeans. To add to this he was smiling threateningly and sitting in a chair incorrectly so the back of it faced him.
"Need a recap?" Jang asked before he could question his appearance.
"Lysander Xenian. You died." Jang said without waiting for a answer.
"But I'm alive..?" He remarked, trying to ease his nerves.
"Oh I didn't mean recently... It was about six days ago. " Jang answered.
***SIX DAYS EARLIER***
"Hmhmhm," he hummed as he stepped out the bathroom clad in a floor length bathrobe.
At first he stubbornly tried to ignore the woman's presence. And it lasted two minutes until she cleared her throat and he sighed.
The Lysander here looked considerably older and had a tired energy about him.
"Deloris Oswynn," he spoke.
"You know why I'm here, Lysander," Deloris spoke.
"I'm on vacation." He started.
"You haven't taken a official leave." She challenged.
"I'm retired." He lied, tightening his bathrobe as he walked behind her, heading for his desk where he dropped his daggers.
"You still have a lot of power and potential," she responded in a clipped tone.
"Hmm no I don't. I lost all of it just now." He denied while grabbing a dagger. Two guards in suits stepped forward as if to test his willingness to fight.
A frustrated sigh escaped Lysander's lips.
"Is me getting dressed first such a wild request?" He turned back to her as she drank the cola of some brand he supported a while ago.
"I'm thinking about quitting these missions. No sense in letting myself be bled dry any further." He huffed.
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"I've decided to verbally announce my resignation. This is my last mission," he said as he dashed into a building. Used as a lair for the Bomb fanatic Kerosené, no one worked at the building. That didn't mean there weren't other people around.
"Before you go off and say heroes should do their job. That as the hero I 'have a duty to fulfill and I should be a self sacrificing person who would put others before myself--"
A number of people cried in pain as he jumped in the air and kicked. Letting his opponents charge into getting knocked unconscious.
"I would like to say I've heard it all before." He spoke into the phone.
A few evident hired hands groaned as he punched them. Somehow louder was the sound of several ribs cracking.
"And I'm confident I made a choice that's good for me." He responded.
He slammed someone into a wall and snatched their radio in the wake of their shock.
"Because I'm positively happy with my new life as I am."
Someone snuck up behind only to be elbowed in the stomach. Promptly the guy doubled over coughing as he lost his lunch.
"Oh that? I'm in a bit of a fight, but I'll be done soon." He ended the call.
After defeating the last of the guards he continued forward. However the door handle didn't turn fluidly as it should.
A bomb, likely a simple one was on the other side of the door. He opened the door then quickly jumped behind it, using the door as a sort of shield to defend against most of the small explosion's damage.
He still had a few bruises but nothing that he felt would seriously impede him, he noted as he spedwalked to the top floor.
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The elevator dinged catching Lysander off guard that it was even working and out of it stepped Mayor Emyrus dutifully holding a silver attache case.
"You fools," he swore quietly.
Kerosené on the other hand grinned widely -too widely- and used some gadget to force the case open. The money it held spilled out of the case falling to the floor. A momentary distraction to the sort of thick bullet in the direction of the mayor.
"Stay back!"
He pushed Mayor Emyrus out of the way, unbothered by the man's stunned protest as he fell to the floor separated from the ransom money.
"Hasta la Vista! kid!" Kerosené yelled triumphantly.
The rocket launcher fired a projectile the size of a basketball and it sent Lysander crashing through the window of the 34 story building, snatching away even a cry of surprise.
Air rushed from his lungs, forcing him to gasp in surprise.
Lysander would love to say that he miraculously got up again and announced to the press that he fully planned to defeat the Villain Kerosené after recovering.
Only to die when the city is inevitably carpet bombed. Or blown up, or whatever plans of mass destruction the madman Kerosené has in store. But that didn't happen.
Short version: the villain won and Lysander died in an epic fall from a ridiculously tall building.
Silver lining? He died quickly. Just how he would have liked it. Not slow and in agony and giving himself time to regret the things he hadn't done.
Lysander could hear the gathering people faintly but he didn't dwell on it at all. The darkness from death felt like a assurance.
'I want my afterlife to be quiet, the serenity of watching snow falling in the Winter. I'd like that moment to go on and on,like a GIF image until I inevitably realize that the quiet afterlife isn't for me.' he thought as everything faded.
But either God -if there is such a being- hated him or he did something wrong. The darkness now seemed different, not peaceful as it had been. Distantly he registered the blaring noise of an alarm clock.
Because here Lysander was in his old bedroom from when he was fifteen. Gone from the building of Kerosené and all the people under his employ.
He was momentarily numb to the smells and silence of his old home, processing that he'd been dying on the sidewalk moments prior.
He touched his face and noticed he had the alarm clock in his hand. Primarily when he smacked it against his face.
"Ow!" He complained. But it felt better than his fall, far less painful.
"Knowing me, I'd been half asleep when I grabbed it and turned off the alarm, falling asleep again before putting it back." He mumbled aloud. He did that sometimes, but if he woke up holding the alarm clock that meant today was a school day.
"oh CRAP." He realized.
Lysander jumped out of bed and promptly fell on the floor since somehow his foot was tangled in a blanket.
Struggling to hurry, he put on his uniform. He didn't bother getting breakfast or actually checking his bag and just left. Unsure how late—or even what day it was—he ran, wondering how he'd been sent back.
'Did this count as reincarnation? Where was the consciousness of my actual fifteen year old self?' He wondered then guessed that all could be answered once he got to school.
Lysander's bag banged uncomfortably at his side but it didn't matter, he prioritized getting to his classroom before the role call started. He quickly skipped the stairs and began to climb the side of the wall.
Something he'd learned in his training as a hero.
"Something like this technically hadn't actually done me much good in that department but at least I know I can use it to get to school earlier and skip the stairs.' He laughed sardonically.
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He was a bit exhausted from that climb. His teenager self didn't have the best strength or stamina.
Catching his breath he ignored the odd looks by some of the students who were close enough to hear him breathing heavily and saw him coming through the window. He tiredly slipped into his seat with an awkward smile, followed by an equally awkward and out of breath good morning.
Out of habit he pulled out his phone, surprised it was in the bag at all and almost did a spit take.
"No way that's today's date," he yelped.
The homeroom teacher came in shortly after and close behind her was another student. Lysander tried to look like he was paying attention and he stared at the whiteboard; scribbled in black marker was the name of the Homeroom,Reading/ELA, Mrs. Jennings' own name and the date.
August 3, 2054.
Lysander stiffened as his heart sank.
'I was brought back to the year everything went to hell for me. This was even the third day of school. Which meant that the new student was ...'
"Greetings to a new year class. I am your Reading/ELA teacher Mrs. Denise Jennings. I am married by the way so I won't take anything other than Ma'am when spoken to."
Some guys in the back chuckled loud enough to be heard where Lysander was at the other end of the room.
'Mrs. Jennings wasn't differing from her script so far.' Lysander noted.
'If I recalled correctly she'd said the same thing on the first official day of school. It would lose its previous threatening power in a day or two but a lot of students would still acknowledge it seriously.' he grabbed a notebook from his bag.
"I see many new faces but I also see many who were in their freshman year last year." Mrs. Jennings continued to speak.
The figure behind her shifted so Lysander could see the familiar glossy red velvet hair.
He knew his posture was abnormally tense. That was definitely him.
"Speaking of new faces," She paused and slid out the way so he could see the most beautiful boy Lysander would see for a long time.
"We have a new student,"she announced.
His hair was resting on his shoulders, one portion of the left side behind his ear was in thin braids that had been pulled out the way so the black nautilus earrings were visible.
He looked better than a third of the actual girls in this school.
It made Lysander's last memories of the other boy significantly less pleasant.
Lysander felt he wouldn't have paid him any attention if it weren't for that and his violet eyes.
The boy smiled nervously as his eyes scanned all of the people in class.
"Good morning" he seemed to need a moment to gather himself. But his greeting earned several scattered 'good mornings' from the class.
"My name is Jang Gililheun," he spoke carefully.
'He must be really nervous.' This didn't help Lysander feel less pity for him.
"Why don't you mention something you like?" Mrs. Jennings whispered helpfully.
"...uhm!!" Jang looked startled at this but he did open his mouth to speak.
"I.... like mystery novels," he stated.
As a hero Lysander had gotten good at reading people, he could tell he was really into novels by how his voice relaxed with confidence that he knew what he was talking about.
"I'm.... I'm half Japanese by the way," Jang mumbled.
"You aren't one of those people who pretends they're a girl when they clearly aren't are you?" a girl behind Lysander asked.
He gripped his school bag so hard the knuckles turned white. Lysander briefly thought his bone was going to force through his skin. He grimaced and shoved the thought away, it triggered unpleasant memories.
"No my hair is naturally this color and length," Jang said but there was an edge to his tone. He took the empty seat next to Lysander.
The girl muttered a low 'damn' as if she was disappointed.
Lysander doubted she believed him, but figured it would be okay since he decided that he would believe him.
'At least one person has to this time.' He told himself he wasn't going to be a hero anymore but he'll be damned if he didn't save this boy. Because.. he didn't deserve what happened to him.
Lysander felt like he'd drill a hole of determination in the wall as he looked in front of him and stubbornly away from the boy who was ultimately the catalyst for the downward spiral his life took.
Two months from now would end up in the newspapers as a suicide victim. And Lysander will admit that among everything else during that time, the death had quickly become a afterthought. One he felt slightly guilty for, seeing the boy as a living breathing person.
Jang Gililheun tensed up in response to Lysander looking, returning the gaze he tried for a smile when their eyes met. Lysander tried to smile back, trying harder not to think of the morbid pictures he saw of him in the papers.
He'd never interacted with him at all before. He was certain he hadn't, but maybe he should change that.