story_bibeak_2_1

Oh! What happened...?

Are you okay, Bibeak?

Gee, Bibeak, you're so excited to go home you can't even hold your cup?

Well, as they say in Yan: Break a cup, break a trouble. Sounds like everything's gonna be great!

Don't worry about it. This is <i>your</i> send-off party. You sit right there, and I'll go get you a new cup.

Ah, watch out! Lemme clean this up first.

Bibeak...

What's the matter?

To our dearest daughter,

We're both doing fine. No need to worry about us.

I've been keeping your room just the way you left it. Your dad has new glasses now. I guess he should've listened when you told him to take better care of his eyes!

We're happy to hear that you've been doing well on Rhodes Island, and are really proud of the work you're doing there.

There's something we've been hesitating to tell you, but decided in the end that it's better for you to know. The culprit who infected you with Oripathy has been caught, and he's now serving a prison sentence.

I hope this helps give you some closure, after all these years. Wishing you the best over at Rhodes Island.

(...He's been jailed for a year now, and Mom and Dad didn't tell me until now.)

(They didn't need to worry. I... I don't care anymore. Yeah.)

(There's a photo of Mom and... my goodness, why are Dad's new glasses <i>that</i> color?)

(Mom definitely picked it on purpose.)

(Are these clothes for me? And a new rapier... It looks nice and handles well. Must be Dad's work.)

Looks like your folks sent you enough stuff to fill a small house.

And I suppose you'll be using this sword in training later?

Yeah, Dad designed it for me.

That's so sweet. I bet you were very close back home.

N-No, not really...

Ooh, getting embarrassed?

...Keep that up and you're not getting that new skirt you wanted.

Ouch, now that's below the belt! What would I even wear without you making clothes for me?

Come on, stop teasing me.

Haha. Alright, I'll let you read your mail in peace.

Bibeak casts her gaze towards the other letter on the table.

The sender's name isn't written, only the address: 'Municipal Prison.'

'Kind lady, I write this letter with gratitude in my heart. I feel that I have found peace in my soul, and would like to share this joy with you.'

'Plagued by guilt over harming an innocent soul with Originium, I sought help from a psychiatrist, who helped me deal with my issues.'

'He said that everyone should have the chance to forgive themselves for their mistakes. I gave myself such a chance, forgave my own mistake, and now I feel at peace.'

'I asked him how you might be feeling now. I believe you need to break free of the cycle of hatred and pain in order to find peace.'

'Please hear me out, kind lady. We must forgive ourselves and forgive others, put down our hatred, and even embrace our enemies, in order to move on to a new life.'

Why are you staring into space? Who was that letter from?

It's him... the man who...

Who? Oh... what did he say?

He said he found forgiveness and peace.

That's... a good thing. Right?

Hm...

I've been so busy these past few years that I'd almost completely forgotten about it. I don't really think about it anymore.

The man said he... I don't know which psychiatrist he talked to, but he said he found peace in his heart, and no longer feels pain from hurting me.

I'm thinking... I've almost forgotten about it. He's in prison, but he let things go too, in his own way.

So once he's released, he should be able to start a new life, shouldn't he?

Hehe... that's good. Time to close the book on this. I...

I...

A tear flows down the corner of Bibeak's eye.

I... I...

Tears begin to flow uncontrollably, as though a dam had burst inside her eyes.

She feels as anxious as she is confused.

She tries to wipe her tears with her hand, but the gesture is futile as even more take their place. She begins to cry uncontrollably.

Bibeak?! What's going on? Are you okay?

W-What's happened to me?

Come on, here's a handkerchief!

I... I don't know what's wrong with me...

I must be overcome with joy about getting to visit home...

S-Sorry...

It's okay, it's okay. Go wash your face. I'll get you a cup of warm water.

Come on, go!

O-Okay!

I...

What happened to me?

Did you ask, Bibeak?

Yes, I'll be getting off when Rhodes Island stops to resupply in Columbia next month. Amiya gave me two months off.

I'll be spending that time with my parents, maybe going on a trip with them. But I'm thinking about what to bring them.

Souvenirs from other countries? Perhaps something from Rhodes Island? Or something I made myself?

Should I have it sent by Messenger? Or bring it in person?

Hey, don't get yourself in a twist over this. There's still plenty of time to prepare.

Whoa! Your hands are ice-cold! What's the matter?

Oh...

I'm just nervous.

After that letter last week, I've been thinking... I think I'll visit the prison, see that man.

...Bibeak.

Yes?

I admire you for making such a decision.

It... took me a week to make up my mind.

I just felt like I needed to go and take a look. After, it's my... my...

It'll be okay. It's a way to come to terms with the past. You're very brave for doing it.

Let's go. And maybe we can ask some other people about what souvenirs to bring home.

Okay!

Lily? Sorry for bothering you. I'm going home next month and wanted some advice on what would make a good souvenir.

Drunk Fins from Yan? Okay... thanks. I'll think about it.

You brought cookies you learned how to make from Gummy? That sounds fun. I'll go and ask in the kitchen. Thank you!

Oh, Gummy is out on a field mission? I see...

Your family loved the mission photos you brought back? Hm, let me think...

Thanks, I think I have a better idea now.

(It seems that families prefer gifts made by the operators themselves.)

(Something personal, something filled with love...)

A few days later

The new clothes are done already? Wowie, that was fast! I'm so glad you're my sewing teacher.

I just taught you some of the basics. I wouldn't say I'm your teacher exactly.

I... only just got to the point where I'm cutting the cloth right. Who knows how long it'll take me to start making clothes for Dad?

You're doing well for a beginner. Just keep it up, and you'll improve.

So, after asking everyone what they took when they went home, you ended up making clothes for your parents.

Yeah, I asked people what they brought.

Their families preferred boxes of homemade cookies—even when they got crushed in transit—over Ursus honeyed mead or rare Sami smoked jerky.

I think it's because you put more of yourself in the things you make on your own.

For example, I just realized that I didn't know my parents' sizes anymore, so I couldn't make anything too close-fitting. I ended up making them jackets.

Jackets are good. Warm and nice to look at. But you're not going back until next month, right? Do you really need to be pulling all-nighters?

I... just feel anxious when I'm not doing anything these days. I feel like I <i>have to</i> keep myself busy.

Probably because you're going home. Happens to everyone when they're excited.

Maybe... it's 'cause you're going to see the guy who hurt you. You sure that's a good idea?

I've always reckoned you should stay <i>away</i> from the bad guys.

I was a little concerned when I heard that too... What are you even going to say to him? What if it was a trick? What if he says something you don't want to hear?

I don't know...

It should be fine... I think?

It's just a normal prison visit. There will be plenty of guards around, and we'll have a layer of glass between us.

I'm not going there to do anything in particular, just to see how he's doing in prison.

Considering he wrote that letter and talked to a psychiatrist there, I guess he wants to live better too.

If he finds peace and gets a new start on life, good for him. That's what I think. Am I wrong?

If I were you, I'd wear my best clothes and tell him I'm doing great. Show him that I'm not affected at all.

But I'm not you, Bibeak. Do whatever you want.

Mhm.

Whatever I want...

Hey, whatcha girls up to? I heard the word 'clothes' from outside the door.

Lava's got a ton of cool outfits we could put you in! Maybe the one with the mask?

You're going to a prison, after all. Gotta assert dominance!

Ha.

Oh, come on, this is a serious conversation.

But Bibeak just smiled, didn't she?

Thank you for trying to help.

(But... what are my own thoughts?)

Hey, why are you back at the drawing board?

(I'm designing clothes... for the prisoner...)

(If clothes represent emotions, what clothes would I design for him?)

(Dark? Warm? Broken? Comfortable? Stiff? Grotesque?)

(Why would I want to make clothes for him to begin with? What do these lines, this cloth, these threads mean?)

(I don't know...)

She's so into it she can't hear a word we're saying...

Bibeak?

Bibeak does not answer. She continues drawing on the sheet.

Welp, guess it's time for me to take a nap.

I'm still a little worried... I hope Bibeak's parents don't let her go alone.

But if her visit goes without incident, then we can say that this is truly over.

Zzz......

Bibeak! Look, Kroos is already asleep! How long have you been working today? You should take a break.

Hm...

Almost... one more length of cloth...

Just a little bit more...

Wow, you've already started cutting?

But didn't you already finish the clothes for your parents? What's this one for?

This is...

Bibeak stops and gazes at the rough cut of the black jacket in front of her.

The threads are messy, the cloth prickly, the edges frayed.

She instinctively reaches for her scissors, wanting to cut it up.

This is...

I made this while thinking about the man in prison.

You made a jacket for him?!

Mm... what's going on?

...Wow.

I'm amazed, Bibeak. Looks like you've really let it go.

It's incredible that you're making clothes for someone who hurt you.

I'd never be able to, not in a million years.

The operator stands up and pats Bibeak on the shoulder.

If I were you, I'd have moved, left the place and never looked back. I wouldn't go and see the one who hurt me, and I certainly wouldn't make clothes for him.

I would've hated him for the rest of my life. I'd never forgive him.

I'd always thought you were strong and brave, but I've gained a whole new level of respect for you.

You're amazing, really.

Bibeak opened her mouth to speak, but ended up simply smiling.

She lowers the hand holding the scissors and exhales.

Thanks... I don't know why I...

It's nothing, Kalin. Thanks for the kind words.

It's getting late. We should call it a day.

See ya later, Bibeak!

Hey, Kroos, do you know when she's leaving? I want to send her off.

Maybe have a little tea party before she goes.

Sounds like fun!

Bibeak's been helping me make clothes for Dad. I-If you need help setting the place up, I can do it!

All ready?

Careful, eh? Cup could be hot!

Snacks, check. Ribbons, check. We're just waiting for Bibeak!

Hey, guys! I brought her!

Sorry everyone, packing took longer than expected.

Wait, my popper's stuck! Wait—

Bang!

The operators around the table pull their poppers, sending confetti flying.

And there we go! Bibeak's send-off party!

Want some tea, Bibeak?

Have a nice trip!

You always work so hard, making so many beautiful clothes for everyone, and staying on top of things in missions. Have a nice trip back home!

Come on, isn't this a bit much?

I'm just visiting home for a few weeks...

Just sit back and enjoy yourself, girl. You're the guest of honor.

We've worked together for a few years now, and you're like a sister to me.

You may look soft and gentle on the outside, but whenever you put your mind to something, you get it done.

It's all thanks to everyone's help... I couldn't have made it on my own.

Have some snacks! Fresh out of the kitchen.

The cafeteria staff also said they wanted to give you the best send-off they could.

C'mon, how 'bout we give our cups a little clink? Just don't let Fang see, or I'd never hear the end of it. 'You don't toast with teacups, blah blah blah.'

We're about the same age, but I'm nowhere near as brave as you are. You're a completely different person from when you first came to Rhodes Island.

T-Thanks, everybody...

What I admire the most is how you can bring yourself to make clothes for someone who hurt you.

I could never.

It's not really like that. I don't even know why I did it...

Maybe this trip will let you finally close the book on it.

Guess this is what they mean when they say 'repay a bad deed with a good one'.

'Repay a bad deed with a good one'...

Have a safe trip, Bibeak!

Er, yeah, thanks.

Thanks...

I...

(They think I'm someone who repays a bad deed with a good one.)

(They think that I'm a good person, a kind person.)

(They like and respect me for that. They're holding a send-off party for someone like that.)

(They admire how I'm making clothes for someone who hurt me.)

(Mom and Dad always taught me to be dignified and well-mannered. So I should be happy for who I am now.)

(Am I?)

(Is this the Bibeak I wanted to be?)

(Do I... like myself like this?)

Bibeak feels a burning sensation as she gazes upon the smiles on the everyone's faces.

Their laughter seems jarring, the lights blinding, the teacup scorching. She feels the urge to smash something.

Her hand trembles, and the cup falls to the ground, startling her with the noise.

No one saw clearly what had happened, only its aftermath, with broken pieces and tea spilled all over the ground.

Oh! What happened...?

Are you okay, Bibeak?

Gee, Bibeak, you're so excited to go home you can't even hold your cup?

(It's not that...)

Well, as they say in Yan: Break a cup, break a trouble. Sounds like everything's gonna be great!

Don't worry about it. This is <i>your</i> send-off party. You sit right there, and I'll go get you a new cup.

Ah, watch out! Lemme clean this up first.

(Did I... just catch a glimpse of my true feelings?)

Bibeak...

What's the matter?

I-It's nothing. I just lost my grip.

Let's keep going. I didn't spill anything on anyone, did I?

I'll clean it up. I see some broken pieces by my feet, and I have the best view of it.

Huh? You sure?

Well, I'm just glad you're okay. That spooked me there.

I just lost my grip. It's fine.

(Now I understand. I <i>don't</i> like myself like this.)

I... I really appreciate you all for holding this send-off for me. Some of you I've fought alongside, and some of you I've made clothes with.

These past few years have been the best of my life.

(I really appreciate all of you, and your sincere best-wishes.)

I'll tell my parents how great the friends I've made here are, such warm and kind people who held a going away party for me.

(I've... made my decision. This time, I won't regret it.)

Well, the ship hasn't stopped yet. Shall we continue?

Have a safe trip! Enjoy yourself!

Bon voyage!

I packed you these snacks, in case you get hungry on the way!

Stay safe!

Thank you, everyone! Bye!

Yes, I made an application and was approved for a visit from 1500 to 1530 hours.

May I see the confirmation letter?

Looks like everything is in order. Follow me, please.

Okay.

There's just a little more paperwork to do.

While we wait for the confirmation letter to be verified, I'll need you to read and acknowledge the prison visitation rules.

Okay.

I'll also need you to fill in your legal name and information on this visitor's form.

Okay.

Finally, please go over these safety rules while we get the prisoner ready. You'll be taken to the visiting room once everything is set up.

Thank you.

Phew...

Finally.

Five minutes.

Ten minutes.

Twenty minutes.

The tea is now cold, and time seems to slow down during the wait for the jailer to return.

Everything's ready. Please sign the safety rules, and I'll take you to the visiting room.

Alright, thank you.

...You're here, kind lady!

You read my letter, didn't you? You listened to me and decided to give yourself a chance for us to put the past to rest and find peace!

The doctor was right. I should forgive myself and let my issues go. I found peace, and so can you!

Thank you so much, kind lady!

Bibeak silently hands over a package.

Is this for me?

...What's this? A letter... my letter to you? Why did you bring it back?

He extends his hands in excitement, trying to squeeze them through the window's gaps to touch Bibeak's trembling hands.

His gaze meets hers.

She opens her mouth and utters a single phrase.

Never forgive.

Then she stands up, turns around, and leaves the visiting room.

She hears the sound of the prisoner banging on the glass, and sees the guards rush into the room. The sounds fade away until she no longer hears them, nor does she care to.

Bibeak heads through the long hallway and goes outside.

It is a beautiful day. She looks at the clear skies and exhales.