Chapter 5. Scene 1: Wallet Wars

[Adastra, Luxomoris. Evans Mansion. Morning.]

For the first time in millions of years of civilization!Alright, more precisely — for the first time in weeks of voluntary strike outside the walls of the house — Mark finally showed up at his iron lair with the dragon. Ahem, I mean a swanky mansion soaked in millions of Shurrasacco (the currency of Luxomoris), trailing red wine, and Rei’s scent seared into literally every damn detail.

In this mansion, echoing with his father’s restless wanderings, Evans made his way to the most prominent place — the spacious hall with a giant baroque chandelier (or hanging death, as he himself dubbed it). At the huge mirrored table, surrounded by objects reflecting the desires of the most avid collector of the era, he lounged comfortably in a soft chair. Spreading his legs, from a side pocket he pulled a pair of scissors, and from a hidden pocket in his shirt — neatly folded bills.

And he began... began cutting out details literally from Rei's collector's bills. Flower to flower, building to building, person to person. First the smaller denomination bills, then the larger ones; from small to large, from color to color, from number to number — everything in ascending order. A psychologist would probably diagnose 'perfectionism', but Mark... Mark doesn't bet on himself.

[The author bears no responsibility for any potential nervous breakdown of a currency collector.]

Rei had just entered the hall, not noticing exactly what his son was doing, he headed to the kitchen with a serious expression. Strangely, he wasn't even surprised to see him return. It seemed that his anger at Mark was so strong that he didn't even notice his completely unmodest revenge. But Mark was not a silent man. He was, to his own and others' misfortune, too loud.

He drawled mockingly:

— Hi, Daddy...

Continuing to calmly cut the bills, he added with affected naivete:

— I kept meaning to ask you: what made you think you had the right to take what didn't belong to you?

Rei suddenly froze, his back tense.

— You're up to nonsense again! Money’s gone, decided to remember your childhood? - the man turned and said irritably, not focusing on what Mark had cut out.

— Mmm... — the guy grimaced, pretending to be offended, and added: — Make sure you don’t run out! — he threw the remaining bills onto the table with all his force. The sound was so clear that the whole room seemed to shake under their impact.

— Don't talk nonsense, you're already do...ing it, — Rei snorted, but when he looked at the table, he lost the ability to speak. His eyes went crazy; he tried to say something, but Brock's zone had decided to play a cruel trick and cut off his ability to speak.

— Are you crazy?! Is that a copy?! — he finally burst out, so loudly that it echoed through the house, shaking the crystal lightly. Rei looked up anxiously.

Mark only smiled theatrically and threw his head back. He knew how much his father hated this demonstration, so he showed it even more vividly. It was as if he wanted to stupefy the last empathic bits of Rei's impulses.

— Where did you get that?! — Rei exploded, rushing to the table and grabbing the surviving bills so sharply that Mark barely had time to blink. But that abruptness shifted something else inside his brain. Something that was better left alone.

— You know, I've got connections, too... — Mark straightened up. — Inside my head! — he shouted and threw the scissors so that they bounced off the fireplace with a clatter, making one of the most elaborate sounds.

— What's happening?! — Rebecca ran out from the second floor, grimacing in fear and surprise. The screams reached even her.

— Look what your little son has done, you poor, miserable boy?! — Rei said contemptuously, clenching his teeth and pointing at Mark's creation. It seemed his gaze could incinerate Mark and everything along with him.

— Oh... — Rebecca collapsed to her knees, clutching her heart. She didn't understand what scared her more: Mark's antics, her devilishly angry husband, or the very atmosphere of the house when they once again collided.

— Oh, come on, you've made your mother reach her limit! — Rei glared menacingly at the frightened Mark. But he didn't even approach his wife or try to help her. The only thing he needed then — was his own pride.

— You're the one who reach her limit, I didn't start this match with you! — coming to his senses, Mark parried and, walking demonstratively loudly, went out into the garden. He could have rushed to his mother, but he didn't want to make things worse for her. Nor did he want to provoke the dragon any further.

But then Mark suddenly returned to the house — probably remembering that he was desperate. Stepping right up to Rei, he ground out through his teeth:

— Give me back my wallet!

— I ran and tripped! — Rei jabbed his finger at the table with the cut bills. - After that?

Mark looked at him in bewilderment, raising his eyebrows and making a face like an innocent child: — It's my property!

— Well, well! And that was mine, — Rei pointed at the table again. It seemed something in his brain had jammed.

— It was, and then it went wandering! — Mark said snidely. Inside, he already felt defeated, but he couldn’t show it to his father.

Rei laughed, stepped over to the fireplace, and pulled out wallet: — See this?

— Give it to me! — Mark lunged, but Rei managed to dodge.

— That's it! — the man immediately threw the wallet into the fireplace, then, with a stone face, cast a cold glance at his son. For the first time, he looked at him as if he were a nothing.

— Space Dog! — Rebecca shrieked, covering her mouth with her hands. In her fright, she even accidentally dropped some... pills?

— Did a diablo bite you? - Mark exhaled, not out of anger, but rather out of frustration and confusion. His heart clenched so tightly it felt as though every capillary would burst. His father hadn't just taken his thing — with it, he had destroyed Mark as his son.

— Can you feel it burning? — Rei snapped his fingers, pretending to sniff, leaning closer to the fireplace. — You can tell — it's leather, — he added, sharply shifting his gaze to the dazed Mark with obvious pleasure. It seemed he was enjoying this spectacle.

— What the... — Mark froze like a statue, gritting his teeth in anger. — You're destroying my stuff! — it was the only thing he could squeeze out just to stand, not to fight.

— Yours are the ones you've earned, — Rei said calmly. — Let's count how many there are... — and began to mimic counting with his fingers. — Ah, that's right... zero! — he concluded, smiling wryly.

— Rei, don't overdo it... — Rebecca shook her head, looking at her husband with pity.

— Rebecca, don't interfere. It’s because of you that he’s so spoiled, — Rei looked at his wife angrily, but there was also a plea in his gaze.

Rebecca said nothing. She tiredly draped a cloak over her shoulders tiredly and walked out into the yard. Disappointment and resentment were written in her gait. She was just a tired woman who was silent about her tiredness.

— Sorry... — Rei whispered to himself, but didn't even budge to follow her. That's what cynicism looked like through Mark's eyes.

— No forgiveness! — Mark shouted in place of Rebecca and followed his mother, shoving his father lightly with his shoulder.

— I'm not talking to you at all, — Rei shouted after him, stroking his shoulder, but he didn't move even after him. He just rolled his eyes.

Mark approached his mother and gently put his arms around her shoulders from behind. He wasn't skilled in offering support, though he sensed her sadness better than her husband himself. It was his only way to let her know that she had a son — and he was here, right there.

Rebecca placed her hands over his and sighed softly, smiling through a slight sadness. For a few minutes, they stood silently, gazing into the garden. The garden was huge; Rebecca loved tiger lilies and had planted them all around. She saw herself in these flowers, and it calmed her. A part of herself remained nearby: when she wanted to be silent, to cry, or simply to say thank you — it was enough to step into the garden. Despite his allergies, Rei allowed her to grow them outdoors. The garden was magnificent, and Rebecca found in it that very peace. In every sense. She'd tended it for years: her heart saw how much it paid off, and her mind found reasons to be rather than stay.

— Forgive that old fool, — Rebecca said quietly, without taking her eyes off the garden.

— May God forgive, — Mark said, sharply pulling away from his mother.

— But you don’t believe in Him… — Rebecca said in surprise, pondering. She was probably trying to figure out if Mark was confused or not.

— Well yeah, — Mark nodded, smiling quietly at her sweet surprise.

— Mark! — Rebecca tapped her son lightly on the shoulder, laughing. Mark couldn’t hold back his smile and responded with laughter.

After a few minutes of laughter, Rebecca tensed slightly and said quietly: — Take this, — holding out a bright card to Mark.

— What is this? — Mark asked, glancing at the strange object, trying to restrain his curiosity, although he didn’t really understand why.

[Yes, from the outside, people can sometimes be completely illogical.]

— My bank card, — Rebecca said quietly, tucking behind her ear the hair that shone so brightly in the sunlight. It seemed as if she herself was that light.

— Are you sure? You won't won’t have any problems because of him? — Mark asked anxiously, pointing at Rei, standing by the door.

Rei turned sharply, as if he could smell it, and walked toward them, demonstratively loud. Poking his head into the doorway, he asked loudly: — What now?

— Personal accreditation, — Mark replied, trying inconspicuously to slip the card into his pocket, without taking his eyes off his father.

— Funny, — Rei muttered, having already caught sight of the bright object, and immediately sneezed.

— Make way, — Mark said, pushing his father lightly and walked on.

— Hey you... — Rei swung at his son, but Rebecca gently squeezed his hand.

— No need, — she whispered, looking at him with pity.

Rei saw Rebecca's calm face, and felt uneasy. His brain still didn't fully accept her as his wife; it couldn't believe in the reality of what was happening. He froze and held her tightly to himself, as if he wanted to convince himself: here she is... and she is mine.

So they stood, listening to each other’s breathing, immersed in their own thoughts. Neither of them spoke first, still hoping for the initiative of the other. This is how the most important words were swallowed — through the soft light falling on them, through the scent of the flowers that filled the house. And it covered the silence, but did not cover the stillness.

[And in this, there was romance, but not love]

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