images of himself rescuing her from harm. There was no romance in it—his mind didn’t even wander that direction. Rather, they were delusional thoughts of regaining control and righting what was wrong. All of it was just a fool’s game to cope with the rejection he received at school and on the Net because of her death. And maybe a sign that he was clearly going mental.
Mack, his childhood friend, pulled him out of his nervous breakdown and introduced him to a hacking circle in the Anime Tech Movement's computer underground. The youth-driven punk culture formed out of the population explosion of the 2030’s. Raised in a school system that had outsourced STEM education to contracted teachers and companies from Japan, his gen was the most highly educated youth culture to ever have walked the planet. But there were no jobs left for their vast numbers. Left out, they had nothing to show for their genius but a dark and immoral grassroots movement. Fillion remembered the relief he felt, crawling into that hole and disappearing from “good” society, the society that continued to murder him with each careless insult and camera click.
God, he hated being reduced to nothing more than a character on the Net. Life was a game of entertainment, each with their part to play, and his soul provided countless hours of amusement for his otaku cyber-followers. By contrast, the members of the hacking circle asked zero questions and, frankly, didn’t care about who he was.
In his delusional visions, Willow was helpless and a victim, powerless against the Gamemaster that owned her life—like him. She had physically died, and he emotionally died with her in the wake of the media outcry from her passing. His dad was accused of neglect and manslaughter, brought to court and publicly shamed for her death and that of her siblings and mother. Although his dad was found innocent in the end, the stains of his implied guilt never washed off of Fillion. Every muscle tensed with shame over the last thought.
He returned his attention to Leaf, who shifted on his feet while holding his head in his hands. Fillion waited with building anxiety and tapped his fingers to the internal tune of “Wretched Anger” by CyberBlack, his favorite band. His hand paused when Leaf lifted his face and let out a slow breath.
With a look at his sister, Leaf swallowed, and then said, “Before New Eden, my father and Della Jayne were high-school sweethearts. They were pledged for five years, but ended their engagement when she was twenty-four. She is now married to Hanley Nichols.”
The young noble reached out and placed a hand on Willow’s arm, saying in a low voice, “Je suis désolé que tu ne savais pas cela jusqu’à maintenant, Oaklee. Père m’a fait promettre de ne pas partager jusqu’à ce que ce soit absolument nécessaire.”
Every one of Fillion’s theories about this pair being dumb flew out the window. The nervous and downcast features suggested that Leaf was apologizing and pleaded with Willow to understand something. Willow turned her head away from her brother.
“And so you chose to share it with him ?” She shrugged off Leaf’s hand and stepped aside, creating space between them. “Je suis déçu de toi, Leaf. Je pensais que je pouvais te faire confiance.”
Fillion couldn’t help but admire her double-edged sword, despite the blood she drew. A wounded look stole her brother’s features as he momentarily sagged his shoulders. And then Leaf stood as tall as he could before looking Fillion’s way, burning with determination.
In a hoarse whisper, Fillion said, “He chose a wise moment, Maiden,” earning her attention. They stared at each other for several seconds before he looked down at his hands, examining the black fingernail polish as he gathered his erupting thoughts. He didn’t know this history as well, and another internal wound came to life with Leaf’s declaration.
“ Dokka ikanaide. Boku ga chekku shiteiru kara