The fading sunlight painted the quiet street in hues of orange and violet, long shadows stretching from the few remaining trees. Zazm Mystic, a name as whimsical as his personality, strolled with a loose, almost languid gait.
His high school days were officially behind him, a chapter closed with a nonchalant flick of his metaphorical wrist. The empty streets were a perfect reflection of his current state of mind – a quiet, almost serene emptiness.
The letter from his parents rustled in his pocket, a stark contrast to the tranquility of the evening. Kyoto. Japan. A place he had never been to.
A place where his parents, those distant figures, resided. The words on the crisp paper echoed in his mind, a request.....no more like an order for a meeting, a reunion.
He'd long since accepted their absence. It wasn't bitterness, not exactly. More like a resigned understanding. His childhood had been a series of empty rooms and the soft, efficient presence of caretakers.
He'd learned to entertain himself, to find solace in his own company, to cultivate a chill that bordered on indifference.
Four years ago, the decision to move out had been as casual as choosing a new pair of shoes. He'd simply informed them, a brief talk, and packed his bags.
No arguments, no tears, just a quiet departure, they didn't paid any attention to him leaving and simple wired him a generous sum, a silent acknowledgment of his independence.
Now, this letter. A summons, almost. A question mark hanging in the air. Had they changed? Was there a sudden surge of parental affection after years of neglect? Or was it something else entirely?
He kicked a loose pebble, watching it skitter across the pavement. That letter made him remember a strange allure, a whisper of the past.
He remembered the serene temples, the vibrant gardens, the scent of incense and blooming flowers. But those memories were filtered through the haze of childhood, tinged with the loneliness he'd carried like a shadow
He paused, looking up at the sky. The stars were beginning to emerge, tiny pinpricks of light in the deepening blue.
"Kyoto," he murmured, the word a soft exhale. He wasn't sure what to expect, but he knew one thing: he wouldn't let their past actions dictate his present.
He'd approach this meeting with the same easygoing detachment he applied to everything else. He didn't cared about them either and he would show it to them.
He continued his walk, the letter a silent weight in his pocket. The streetlights flickered to life, casting a warm glow on the empty road. He'd go to Kyoto.
He'd meet them. And he'd see for himself if anything had changed. Or if they were still just distant figures, lost in the labyrinth of their own ambitions.
The familiar hum of the city faded as Zazm entered his apartment, a sanctuary of minimalist design and comfortable clutter.
He tossed his bag onto the plush couch, the soft thud a welcome sound after his contemplative walk. With a contented sigh,"Man I'm so freaking tired."
He launched himself onto his bed, the familiar scent of his own space lulling him into a deep, dreamless sleep, "I wonder..."
The morning light, filtered through the blinds, gently roused him. "Uh... what time is it?" He sat up, stretching languidly, the remnants of sleep still clinging to him.
A quick glance at the clock told him he had ample time. He rose, a sense of quiet purpose settling over him.
His wardrobe, a collection of sleek, dark pieces, reflected his understated style. "I never noticed but I do have too much black..."
He chose a simple black shirt and tailored black pant, the ensemble perfectly complementing his striking features – the slightly long, raven hair that framed his face and the deep, obsidian eyes that held an air of quiet observation.
He moved with an easy grace, packing his essentials into a small, stylish duffel bag. A quick check of his phone revealed an email from his father – a first-class ticket to Kyoto, a silent, efficient gesture.
No accompanying message, no preamble, just the ticket. He wasn't surprised. It was typical of them. Efficiency over sentiment.
He finished packing, grabbed his wallet, and with a final, cursory glance around his apartment, he stepped out, locking the door behind him.
"Okay let's leave." A smile appeared on his face as he started to waln towards the elevator, he pulled out his phone to check the location of the cab he called and it had also reached the parking lot.
He quickly rummaged through people towards the cab, "Hello, Cab for Zazm?" He spoke in his same nonchalant voice with a soft smile on his face.
"Ah yes, Sir." The cab driver was a man in his young twenties, he wore a white cuffed shirt with a brown pant. His hair short and neatly combed.
Zazm quickly opened the trunk of the car and carefully placed his suitcase inside. He opened the door and plopped down on the seat.
"Shall we go sir?" The man asked Zazm with a smile on his face and Zazm also nodded with a soft smile.
The cab started moving and throughout the ride Zazm quietly stared outside preparing himself for meeting his parents after several years.
He was lost in his thoughts when the words of driver pulled him outside, "Sir, is everything alright?" Zazm looked at the worried driver and spoke in a soft voice.
"I apologize, it's just I'm going to meet my parents after so long, I don't know how not to be nervous." A kind and soft smile appeared on the driver's face.
He looked at Zazm and spoke in a nostalgic voice, his kind eyes having a sad look in them, "You should be happy, you're going to meet your parents. Parents are a blessing."
Zazm noticed the sudden change in his eyes and tone and replied to him with the same soft tone, "Yes, and thank you."
With that Zazm quickly took out his suitcase and left towards the main gate or airport. Zazm lived his life traveling around since his parents changed places every few months for some reason, so he was used to traveling.
He went towards the reception, where a young women sat wearing a white cap with the airport logo on it. She wore a perfect white coat along with a dark black skirt.
Zazm politely showed his ticket and asked for directions. After knowing the directions, he walked towards the waiting area and looked at the time.
"Still 40 minutes, huh? Guess I'll wait." Zazm an empty seat at a distance and sat down there. He placed his suitcase close to his feet and leaned backwards.
"No, I want this." Zazm heard the voice of a kid behind him. So, he decided to check it and saw a little girl standing next to a man and woman.
He turned around slightly side glancing at them, "Ok Ok fine we'll get this." The woman spoke before buying a huge bag of chips and handing it over to the kid.
The kid instantly became happy and started smiling, "Damn, her mood just did a 360 on a bag of chips." Zazm commented while still looking in their direction.
A small smile appeared on his face, not the carefree or mocking smile but genuine thoughtful smile.
---
Zazm walked into the huge airplane and went directly to his seat in the first class. It was completely different than the economy one with almost everything available.
Zazm opened his small bag and pulled out his headphones, he played music on full volume and started enjoying the view outside and before he knew it the plan had landed.
He got down from the plane, picked up his suitcase and quickly went outside the airport and his eyes slightly widened when he saw a man standing outside of the airport with a luxurious car.
The man wore a perfect white suit, his hair perfectly combed, his posture stern and professional. Zazm instantly recognized the man, it was their driver, Gerald.
He started walking towards him and spoke in a gentle tone, his voice soft and firm, "It's been a while, Gerald."
Gerald eyes narrowed slightly at the way Zazm reacted but he quickly masked it off, afterall he was professional in his job. "It really has been."
Zazm walked towards the gate of the car and Gerald quickly opened it but Zazm lifted a hand signing him to not do it, "Don't worry, I can open it myself."
"As you wish," Gerald spoke and quickly went and sat on the driver seat and Zazm sat on the backseat. Zazm was aware that Gerald must be shocked seeing him like that now.
Since, the old Zazm barely said anything and was always quiet and cold-and smiling? That's something he didn't even knew existed but now he was smiling and was conversing just fine.
Zazm looked into the front mirror and saw Gerald stealing glances at him, Zazm leaned forward and asked Gerald, "You wanna ask something, Gerald." His tone firm.
"Not at all," Gerald replied him with the same strict and stern voice but that wasn't going to stop Zazm, "You were always the type to keep things to yourself but I realize something Gerald."
Gerald stayed quite before finally asking, "What is that, Sire?"
"I just realized, I never said Thanks." Zazm spoke with the same smile while he continued to look outside.
His answer caught Gerald off guard and made him a little surprised, he spoke in a hurried tone without thinking much about it, "Pardon? What do you mean, Side?"
Zazm didn't matched his gaze and simply continued to let the silent weigh, "You and Miranda was always there for me when no one was, I just felt like I should say it."
Gerald didn't know what to say and Zazm also stayed quiet. The entire ride none of them spoke a word. After a while Zazm looked around from the window of car and saw a beautiful mansion.
The mansion was surrounded by a huge beautiful garden and there was a huge door to it. The car passed through the door and the scent of flowers greeted Zazm which quickly made him remember that his mother was a fan of nature.
"We're here." Gerald spoke as the car stopped and Zazm opened the door to get out, as he opened the door and was about to get out, he stopped listening to Gerald.
"Sire, you've changed. You've become a good person." Gerald's tone wasn't stern instead it was soft and polite. He was Zazm's driver since he was a kid and understood him.
He always cared for Zazm like his own child and was afraid that he would become a loner or bad person but looking at him now made him feel relived and happy.
Zazm looked at Gerald and a soft chuckle escaped his lips before he slammed the door of car he spoke, "For better or worst I have."
He quickly moved around to pick his suitcase and saw a maid already carrying it inside, he quickly stopped her and took the suitcase. She quickly retorted and told him that she'll carry it. But Zazm shook his head with a smile and told her not to.
He picked his suitcase and walked through the huge doors to the mansion, as he opened the door, he saw a woman standing Infront of it.
At her sight his eyes widened slightly and his smile faltered for a moment, "Miranda..." He spoke in a soft tone.
Miranda, his caretaker and the one who took care of him ever since he was born. Instead of his mother she was the one who was always there for him.
From holding a pencil to leaning to wear clothes it was her who thought him it all.
"It's been a while Young mas..." Before she could finish Zazm interrupted her and spoke in an excited tone like a kid, "Miranda....It's been a while, I missed you."
At the sudden smiling figure and way of speaking Miranda was left shocked, she had expected a dull, devoid of life and cold answer but the way Zazm replied made her surprised.
Zazm smiled at her surprised expression, "Yes Yes before you say I've changed, I'll tell you I've okay?"
A smile appeared on Miranda's face looking at Zazm, she was about to say something but Zazm interruptted her once again, "Oh and don't call me Sire... Or whatever, just call me Zazm. And I won't hear otherwise."
Miranda's smile widened before she finally spoke, "You've grown, I didn't expected you to become like that but I'm happy."
Miranda took Zazm to his room and Zazm told her about all the friends he made and also his school life the mansion was big but Zazm deliberately walked slower.
He told her how he learned Capoeira and became a champion. He told her how he finished so many books, how they partied on the last day.
Miranda listened to everything with a smile, it was like a kid reuniting with his parents, excited and wanting to tell them all and everything.
Soon enough they reached Zazm's room and he went inside, he had felt so happy after a long time. He quickly went inside and started to get ready.
Miranda had informed her that he going to meet his parents at dinner tonight. But Zazm didn't cared about them not even in the slightest and the only reason he actually came was to meet Miranda and Gerald.
He had met them and said thanks, it was a huge burden he always wanted to get off, a debt he wanted to pay. A little or a lot.
He quickly got dressed, he wore a black coat pant and combed his hair perfectly. He was finally ready with everything prepared he left his room and saw Miranda already waiting there.
"You look great." Miranda spoke with a smile on her face and Zazm also replied in a firm tone, "Thank you, now let's hurry up." With this Miranda took Zazm to the dining hall.
During the walk Zazm looked around the big hallways with several paintings and decorations that looked absolutely marvelous. While on his way to his room he was so excited to tell Miranda everything he didn't paid attention to his surroundings.
"How long has it been since you all moved here?" Zazm asked in an amazed tone as he admired the beauty of the halls and the mansion itself.
"It's been 2 years, it's been a long while." She replied Zazm and he continued to look around the things. Soon enough he found himself standing Infront of the dining room behind this room was his parents and he was going to meet them after years.
The imposing dining hall loomed before him, its grand doors a silent invitation. Zazm, now clad in a sleek, dark overcoat, paused.
The transformation was subtle, yet profound. The easygoing warmth that usually radiated from him was gone, replaced by an icy composure.
His eyes, once pools of quiet observation, now held the chilling sharpness of glacial ice. The hint of a smile that usually played on his lips had vanished, leaving behind a blank, impassive mask.
He stepped into the hall, the sound of his footsteps echoing on the polished floor. His parents sat at the far end of the long, ornate table, their figures framed by the soft glow of the chandeliers.
"You're here. Have a seat," his father said, his voice clipped and formal.
Zazm moved with an almost robotic precision, taking his seat without a word or a flicker of emotion.
"It's been a while. You've grown, Zazm," his mother offered, her tone carefully neutral.
He met her gaze, his own unwavering. "Yes, I have." His voice was a low, even monotone, devoid of warmth.
The table was laden with an array of exquisite dishes, a testament to their wealth and status. But Zazm ignored the tempting spread, his focus fixed on his parents.
"So, why have you called me here?" he asked, his voice cutting through the silence like a shard of ice.
His father raised a brow, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. He placed his fork down, the clatter echoing in the vast room. "Is it not normal for parents to meet their child?"
Zazm shook his head, a small, almost imperceptible movement. "It is, but you aren't that type of parents."
His words hung in the air, a stark accusation. A brief, charged silence descended upon the table.
His mother, recovering first, spoke again, her voice smooth and practiced. "We are worried about your future. What are you going to do?"
They aren't worried, Zazm thought, the cynicism a cold knot in his chest. They're playing a role. "Nothing. I'm starting college next since I'm done with highschool."
"I see," his father replied, his voice flat.
The rest of the meal was consumed in a tense, uncomfortable silence. The clinking of silverware, the soft rustle of clothing, the barely audible breaths – these were the only sounds that filled the vast dining hall.
Finally, Zazm rose, his movements as precise and controlled as ever. "I'll be leaving now." He turned and walked away, his back straight, his expression unchanged.
He was about to leave when his mother's words stopped him, "Zazm." He paused to hear her but didn't turned around nor his expression changed.
"We know we aren't the best parents and we knew there were many things that were never able to give you, I'm not asking you for anything, I'm simply saying don't let your past get in the way of your future. You're happy and keep living like that."
Zazm nodded and left the hall, he slammed the doors behind and continued to walk and a small smile appeared on his face as he thought to himself, 'Don't worry I stopped caring about you long ago.'
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