Chapter 131 - Regretful Past
As they ate, the warmth of the restaurant and the dim candlelight softened the tension that had lingered between them. The initial awkwardness had faded somewhat, though it still lingered in the way they avoided looking at each other for too long. Pao swirled her fork absentmindedly through her food, then looked up at Amukelo.
"So, um..." she started hesitantly, "you were at the training facility today, right? How was your first day?"
Amukelo swallowed a bite of his food before answering. "It was good. They had us go through testing matches first, and then after that, we got our schedules."
Pao perked up at that. "Did you win? Bao told me earlier that they gave you both tough matches, and she said she lost. But what about you?"
Amukelo nodded, setting his fork down. "Yeah, they definitely weren't easy. The first fight was tough, but I won. The second one though..." He let out a small chuckle, shaking his head. "That was on a whole different level. He crushed me with one hand behind his back and barely even moved."
Pao's eyes widened, her fork pausing mid-air. "Crushed you? You? Who was that? A teacher or someone?"
Amukelo smirked slightly. "No, he was just another member like me. But from what Bral and Idin told me, he's kind of famous. His name was Padrin, if I remember right."
Pao nearly choked on her drink. "Padrin? The one that is known for his rapid progress? You fought him on your first day?"
Amukelo laughed at her reaction. "Yeah, I guess I did."
"And the fact you're still alive..." she said, only half-joking, but with respect.
"Barely," Amukelo admitted, grinning. "But from what they said, he doesn't usually do that. The master asked him to spar with me. Maybe he sees something in me?" He shrugged, then added with a laugh, "Who knows, maybe I have a chance to be his training partner."
Pao leaned forward eagerly, her eyes shining. "Of course, you do! You will be, for sure."
Amukelo blinked, caught off guard by how quickly she had responded. The certainty in her voice, the way she didn't even hesitate—it made his face warm. He looked down, rubbing the back of his neck. "Thanks..."
The conversation paused, and suddenly the weight of silence settled between them again. They both focused a little too intently on their food. Amukelo shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He wasn't used to conversations like this.
Needing to break the silence, he asked, "So... can you tell me about your family? About your early life?"
Pao hesitated, then let out a small breath. "Uh... yeah, I guess." She set her utensils down, folding her hands together. "Bao and I... when we were younger, we were part of a noble family."
Amukelo shook his head. "It's hard to believe that all of you are nobles."
She nodded. "Yeah. Places like this"—she gestured around the elegant restaurant—"weren't anything special to us. We got everything we wanted. From toys and experiences to education and... well, even people." She gave a small, regretful smile. "Our father was a tradesman, but he had an amazing reputation. He was never late, always over-delivered, and that's why everyone wanted to buy from him."
Amukelo leaned forward slightly, listening intently.
"But I... I used to complain about the stupidest things," Pao continued, shaking her head at herself. "I remember once, my father came home late, and I threw a tantrum because he missed dinner. Or when a seamstress brought me the wrong-colored dress, I refused to wear it and made a fuss. Looking back, I was so... ungrateful."
She let out a slow breath before continuing. "Then, everything changed. I remember the moment it happened. My father was robbed while transporting a shipment—something really important. Because of that, he lost a major deal. And at the time, it was during a period when things were uncertain, and a lot of people were losing their jobs and businesses. That deal... it was everything. Our noble status depended on it."
Amukelo frowned slightly. "That sounds like a lot of weight."
"It was," Pao murmured. "And instead of understanding, instead of seeing how much my father had done for us, I blamed him. I was so angry. I accused him of being careless, of ruining our family. I remember the way he looked at me when I said those things." She swallowed, her hands tightening slightly. "I didn't realize how much that must've hurt him. He worked so hard to provide for us, and in his worst moment, I just made it worse."
Amukelo didn't say anything, letting her words settle.
Then, with a small, bittersweet smile, Pao looked up at him. "That's why I really admire you."
He blinked, caught off guard. "Huh?"
"The way you talk about your past. The way you don't make yourself a victim, even though you had every reason to. You've been through so much, and yet you just... keep going. It's really put things into perspective for me." She smiled softly, her eyes warm. "I can't wait to apologize to my father. And to everyone else."
Amukelo's heart did something weird in his chest. He wasn't sure what it was, but he suddenly felt like he couldn't breathe properly. Maybe it was the way she looked at him when she said it, or the fact that she had just admitted—out loud—that she admired him. That she had been thinking about his past.
His face grew warm again, and he quickly looked away.
Pao didn't seem to realize what she had just said. She just sighed and leaned back in her chair, staring at the candle flickering between them.
Amukelo cleared his throat, trying to regain control of himself. "Uh... I think you should do it."
Pao looked at him. "Do what?"
"Apologize to your father," he said. "If you regret it, then it's worth doing. I'm sure he doesn't hold it against you, but it will be better for your soul."
Pao smiled at that. "I hope so."
They sat there for a moment, the awkwardness slowly melting into something more comfortable.
As the evening stretched on, the bottles of wine slowly emptied, leaving behind the warm haze of intoxication. Pao had fallen into a state of tipsy relaxation, her posture looser, her words softer. She leaned forward slightly, resting her chin in her palm, her eyes hazy but focused on Amukelo with a kind of dreamy curiosity. Amukelo, on the other hand, barely felt the effects. But he didn't mind—if anything, he found Pao's drunken mumbling endearing.
She poked at her empty plate absentmindedly with a fork before finally speaking. "So, Amu..." she murmured.
Amukelo's body tensed slightly. That name. He hadn't heard it in so long.
Pao, oblivious, continued. "Can you tell me a little more about your goals? And your time in the wilderness?"
Amukelo exhaled, his fingers tightening slightly around his glass. His face shifted as a wave of nostalgia washed over him. That name—it was something his mother used to call him, something no one else had ever called him. It carried a weight he wasn't prepared for, and before he even realized it, a small, unbidden tear formed in his eye.
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Pao's blurry gaze sharpened as she noticed the shift in his expression. "What happened?" she asked, her voice dipping with concern.
Amukelo quickly wiped the tear away, offering her a small, nostalgic smile. "I haven't been called that in a long time," he admitted. "My mother always used to call me that... It feels really personal."
Pao's face flushed immediately, and she turned her head away slightly. "Oh... If you don't want me to call you that, I can stop..." she said in a quiet, almost embarrassed voice.
Amukelo shook his head, smiling warmly. "No. I have no problem with it." He paused for a moment before adding, "As long as it's you who's calling me that."
Pao's lips parted slightly in surprise, and then her eyes softened as she nodded eagerly. "Okay," she murmured, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the rim of her glass.
The moment lingered between them, warm and intimate in a way that made Amukelo feel something strange in his chest. He cleared his throat, trying to shake the feeling. "So... about your question. What do you want to know?"
Pao blinked slowly, her thoughts taking a moment to catch up to the conversation. Then she focused on him again, her expression turning serious. "Your scars," she said, her voice quieter now. "You have so many of them. How did you survive out there? I mean... you obviously didn't have magic to heal you. You didn't have people to help. So... how?"
Amukelo thought about that for a long moment, his fingers drumming lightly against the table. Then, with a heavy sigh, he leaned back in his chair. "I just... couldn't die," he said finally. "It wasn't an option."
Pao's brows knitted together. "What do you mean?"
Amukelo exhaled slowly. "I made a promise. I told my mother that I would get stronger. That I would live to the fullest, no matter what. And I had a dream. A dream to be like Elian the Resolute. That dream pushed me forward. Every time I nearly died—and believe me, there were a lot of times—I forced myself to keep going. Because for me, there was no other choice. Either I survived, or I broke my promise."
Pao was quiet for a moment, her drunken haze doing nothing to dull the clarity in her eyes as she looked at him. Then, suddenly, she smiled. A slow, warm, genuine smile. "You'll get there," she said.
Amukelo tilted his head slightly. "Huh?"
Pao's smile widened. "I'm sure you'll get there. And I'm sure that we'll help you get there." She straightened slightly. "We'll carry each other forward and make sure you achieve your dream. Together."
Amukelo stared at her, stunned for a moment. He wasn't sure if it was the wine talking or if she truly meant it, but her words sank into him deeper than he expected.
For so long, his dreams had felt like something he had to bear alone. No one else had ever spoken about them as if they were real. No one else had ever said we in reference to his ambitions.
He swallowed, feeling an unfamiliar warmth bloom in his chest. Then, in a voice quieter than he intended, he said, "I... Thank you."
Pao nodded once, as if she had decided something for herself. Then she let out a soft giggle, the seriousness of the moment fading into a comfortable ease. "Ahh... I think I drank too much," she admitted, rubbing her forehead.
Amukelo chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah, you did."
"Will you make sure I don't do something stupid?" she asked playfully, though there was a hint of sincerity in her voice.
Amukelo smirked. "Of course. That's what we do, right?"
Pao grinned, and for the first time that evening, there was no awkwardness—just the easy warmth of two people who, despite everything, understood each other.