Guilt seemed to pierce Misha's heart like a merciless arrow. He desperately wanted to refute Tristan's words, but deep down, he knew he couldn't. He also had no right to. Now, whatever he'd say wouldn't sound sincere, not with how he had been acting lately. With this in mind, Misha lowered his head like a child caught red-handed and stared at his fidgety fingers, unable to bear Tristan's sorrowful smile. Why did he always speak without thinking twice beforehand? Shouldn't he know by now that it rarely ended well…?
"But I guess," Tristan started, his voice low but even, "I can't blame you either. I don't know everything that man did, but I can already tell he's an abomination with the few snippets of his past I've seen. He made Jake go through hell and hurt many others. I didn't commit these atrocities, but this man also didn't commit them at my age. From what I can tell, his descent into madness started in his late teens, so who knows whether or not it'll happen to me, too."
The boy paused, turning his head to gaze through the window at the stars-lit lake. Unknown memories twirled in his head before he let out a scoff.
"In the end, I don't know my future, only his, but who am I to say I won't turn into a monster like him? Though, I truly hope it'll never happen. Still, this man and I share the same birth. What distinguishes us is the people by our side and the events in our childhood. But is that truly enough to change the core of a person? I don't know."
"I think it is! Look, I'm sure this man wouldn't feel saddened at the prospect of becoming a monster, but you do! You're not the same!"
"I'm not so sure about that.."
"Tristan," Misha pinched his lips, "what makes you say that?"
There was a few seconds of silence before the boy whispered, "There are things I've done that I'm not necessarily proud of."
"Like what?"
No answer came, so Misha forced himself to lift his eyes and look at the kid's side profile, which was barely visible under the moonlight. His expression was shrouded in darkness, not allowing the teenager to glimpse at the boy's inner thoughts. What was going through his head right now? He'd very much like to know, for nervousness was starting to turn his stomach upside down. Like often, his instinct had kicked in, and he knew whatever would come next wouldn't please his ears.
Still, Misha repeated, "Tristan, like what?"
The boy glanced side-way at Misha, and the teenager couldn't help but hold his breath. There was a cold glint in their depths, the kind of sharp glint a child shouldn't possess.
"Thanks to that man's memories, I might or might not have figured out who sold out our location on the day of the kidnapping. And then, I might or might not have laid a trap for these men and blackmailed them with the information I got to do my bidding. I'm not proud, but I used the method I often see in my dreams to get a hold of their weakness and use them like pawns. I was so angry at the time that I wanted to figure out who the masked man was and ruin him, no matter the cost."
Misha blinked, tilting his head.
"And what's so bad about that? I mean, human trash should be treated like human trash."
It was Tristan's turn to blink.
"Mish', I just said I borrowed the methods the guy used in my dreams. I'm no better!"
"Look, if I were to get my hands on those guys, I don't think their fate would be any better. And, seriously, if your brothers had managed to find them first, I feel like they would have made them wish they were dead. These two are pretty damn terrifying when they get angry. Anyway, the point is: what's wrong with paying back betrayal the way it should be? Or what? Should you have extended a helping hand to people who pretty much sent you and your loved ones to a death sentence? Don't be ridiculous! It's not like you went around beating up innocent people."
"…"
"You might be afraid of turning into a monster, but you don't have to become the exact opposite out of fear. Not being a saint isn't a crime. And if someone goes around doing shit, they should be expecting to receive the same treatment—an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. Forgiving people who wronged you isn't mandatory, and you don't have to feel bad for teaching a lesson to assholes. If I had to feel guilty for all the annoying people I beat to a pulp…"
A chuckle escaped Tristan as he shook his head, the coldness in his eyes gradually melting. Misha would always be Misha, right? In a way, it was incredibly reassuring. It was like having a sturdy wall standing before him that would always defend him, no matter what was coming their way.
But even so, that sturdy wall wavered in the past few days, seemingly crumbling down as the teenager avoided him. It had been so distressing it had left Tristan in an agonizing despair.
"Say, Mish'…"
"Hm?"
"Did you start to avoid me because you discovered the masked man is one of my other selves?"
The boy dropped a bomb that left Misha stunned. His body, which had started to relax, tensed up again. His mind froze up, and his brain experienced a power off. He forgot how to speak and could only stare at Tristan with a dumbfounded look. How the heck did the kid figure that out?!
"You should see the look on your face," Tristan stifled a laugh, even though he knew he shouldn't be amused right now. But what could he do? The teenager's face was so theatrically distorted that it was hard not to find it funny. "Are you wondering how I figured it out?"
Misha furiously nodded.
"After the kidnapping incident, memories a bit different from the usual started to haunt my nights. In them, scenes of Jake losing his eye flashed like a movie. I could see myself plucking his eye off or talking to us three. Vague thoughts also come to my mind. At first, I brushed them off, thinking they were just nightmares resulting from the stress of the kidnapping, but at the same time, they felt overly similar to the other dreams I had. I started to get suspicious over time."
A feeling of shame washed over Tristan when he remembered the night he woke up in a panic and how Jake reassured him. He didn't know at the time what his brother had gone through during the day, and finally bawled his eyes out. Despite the traumatic experience of the afternoon with his other self, his brother still reassured him and hugged him. Jake, who should be hating him to the core, was still the perfect elder brother, showering him with love and concern. So, how could Tristan not adore such a brother?
'Ignorance truly is bliss,' Tristan thought as a dream from a few days ago resurfaced in his mind.
"But what truly convinced me was a dream I had recently. I dreamed of that day we went on a picnic and bought ice cream cones."
"Don't tell me…" Misha's face grew pale.
"Well, you guessed it: I dreamed of my brother running into that other self of mine, and then, everything clicked."
Tristan remembered being surprised that Jake had been awake after waking up from his nightmare. His elder brothers were heavy sleepers, and even screaming in their ears wouldn't necessarily wake them up. Yet, Jake was awake at the time. Why? Tristan hadn't even thought of the reason behind it. He only realized his brother hadn't gone to sleep purposely because of that man's words in the dream.
"So, you… you got the memories of that man, too?!"
"I guess you can say that," the boy nodded. "But something is weird about them. That man doesn't seem to be from our past lives. It feels like he's from another universe altogether? I don't know. He's kind of different? He has weird thoughts that don't align with my past selves. It's hard to explain."
Misha felt his brain frying. This was too much information for him, and he didn't know how to analyze it, nor did he know how to use it efficiently.
"Tristan," Misha felt heartache, but he had to say it, "you do realize it's the kind of information your brothers need to know, right?"
Pinching his lips, the boy nodded.
"I'm aware I can't hide this forever. It's just that…"
There was no need to say it aloud: Misha knew what the boy feared. He didn't want to lose the relationship he painfully built with his brothers. Moreover, Misha also realized that his brothers' love was probably the only thing that kept the kid sane. What would happen to him if he were to lose it…?
"Can you give me a few days to get used to the idea? I want to enjoy some time with my brothers before losing what we have."
Although Misha wanted to reassure the boy, he knew that whatever words of comfort he said would be yet again empty words. No one knew how Gabriel and Jake would react to this news. It wasn't something that could be brushed off, not with what Jake went through in his past lives.
"Alright, just tell me when you're ready. I want to be by your side when you tell them. Would that be ok with you…?"
As an answer, Tristan smiled weakly.