The morning sun cast a gentle glow on the village as Noulan remained nestled in sleep.
Gustav attempted to rouse him, "Wake up, Noulan," but the young man remained oblivious to the call. "Wake up, Noulan," Gustav insisted.
Noulan, still wrapped in the embrace of slumber, mumbled, "I don't wanna."
Growing impatient, Gustav's frustration peaked, and he delivered a swift hit, knocking Noulan off the bed. "Wake up, you damn fool," he exclaimed, the abrupt action a testament to his determination to get the young man out of bed.
"Shit, it hurts, old man!" Noulan shouted in pain.
Gustav, undeterred, replied, "Now, come out, take your breakfast, and be ready for the departure to the capital." With that, Gustav exited the room, leaving Noulan to nurse the unintended consequence of his wake-up call.
Seated on the bed, Noulan took a deep breath and exclaimed, "Damn, I really have to go to the capital now." The prospect of facing Harmin and revisiting past grievances haunted him, creating an unwelcome tension. He felt cornered, without a desirable option.
Standing up, he exited the room and went outside to wash his mouth. While brushing, typical of an overthinker, his mind raced through conflicting thoughts. "What should I do? I don't want to go, but I have to. I don't have a choice. Damn it, whatever happens, happens," he muttered, the internal turmoil evident in his expression.
After a contemplative moment, he groused and proceeded to the kitchen for breakfast, resigned to the inevitability of the journey that awaited him.
Taking a seat at the dining table, Noulan found himself face to face with an omelet and bread with cheese for breakfast. As he bit into the bread, savoring the flavors, his attention shifted when he noticed an unexpected presence at the table.
A beautiful girl with bobbed silver hair sat across from him—it was Hanna.
The shock of seeing Hanna caused Noulan to spill his bread. "What the fuck! What are you doing here?" he exclaimed, his surprise evident.
"Taking breakfast. Can't you see?" she replied sarcastically.
Noulan, wiping the bread crumbs from his mouth, retorted, "I can see you're eating, but why in my house?" The unexpected convergence of past and present added an extra layer of tension to the morning.
Hanna, unfazed by Noulan's reaction, continued eating with a smug expression. "Well, your foster father invited me. Seems like he forgot to mention that to you," she said, savoring the opportunity to provoke him.
Noulan, irritated by the revelation, muttered under his breath, "Old man never tells me anything."
Gustav, entering the room, overheard the exchange. "Noulan, behave yourself. Hanna's here with a purpose," he interjected, maintaining a stern tone.
Noulan, still grappling with the unexpected presence of Hanna, reluctantly continued his breakfast, the morning unfolding with an unanticipated mix of tensions and unspoken dynamics.
"What purpose does she have?" Noulan questioned, the anger palpable in his tone.
"Don't you remember? I am taking you two to the capital," Hanna replied, her words carrying a hint of satisfaction. The revelation further added to Noulan's frustration, unfolding a journey that seemed increasingly entangled with the unresolved threads of the past.
Noulan, still simmering with frustration, muttered to himself, "Great, just what I needed."
Gustav, sensing the tension, interjected, "Enough, both of you. We have a journey ahead, and bickering won't help."
Noulan shot a disgruntled look at Hanna but begrudgingly acknowledged Gustav's point. The looming journey to the capital, coupled with the unexpected company, painted a picture of challenges and confrontations that Noulan would need to navigate in the days to come.
The animosity between Noulan and Hanna was like a clash between dog and cat, a stark contrast to their past dynamics. In the academy, Noulan had harbored genuine affection for her, but upon realizing Harmin's feelings, he chose to step back. However, a series of events unfolded, leading to a shift in Noulan's sentiments, transforming love into resentment. The complex web of emotions woven during their shared history in the academy now manifested in the turbulent interactions of the present.
Noulan's gaze at Hanna resembled that of a wolf eyeing its prey, his thoughts consumed by the past traumas she had caused. With each passing second, the simmering anger within him intensified. Unable to contain the rage, he abruptly grabbed his plate and hurled it away.
Gustav, observing Noulan's escalating behavior, became incensed. "Enough, Noulan! Where are your manners?" he reprimanded, his stern words cutting through the tense atmosphere. The clash of emotions in the room reflected the unresolved conflicts that threatened to resurface during their impending journey to the capital.
Noulan, fueled by anger, unleashed his frustration with a shout, "Whatever you think, but I can't eat in the same room with this... woman." His words were charged, and he stood abruptly, forcefully wiping his mouth. "Call me before departure. I'll be in my room," he declared, his exit from the dining room deliberate and resolute.
As Noulan left, the lingering scent of tension accompanied him. Gustav, perplexed by the sudden outburst, contemplated, "Why is he acting like this?" His gaze shifted towards Hanna, contemplating the possible catalyst for Noulan's behavior.
Hanna, sensing Gustav's concern, slowly turned her head towards him. "What, sir?" she inquired.
"Nothing," Gustav replied, his response masking the underlying unease that lingered in the room. The departure to the capital now carried not only the weight of past grievances but also the present complexities that threatened to unfold.
In the aftermath of Noulan's departure, the dining room retained an uneasy silence. Gustav, caught between the conflicting emotions of concern for Noulan and the unforeseen tension in the air, took a deep breath.
Hanna, maintaining her composed demeanor, resumed her breakfast as if nothing had happened. Yet, beneath the surface, a subtle smirk betrayed a satisfaction that she had succeeded in unsettling Noulan.
Gustav, unable to shake off his worry, glanced towards the door through which Noulan had exited. "I hope this journey doesn't unravel more than it should," he muttered to himself, his thoughts a turbulent mix of apprehension and the weight of past decisions.
In Noulan's room, the air hung heavy with his frustration. The walls, witness to the turmoil within him, enclosed him in a space where the echoes of the past clashed with the present tensions.
Noulan, pacing back and forth, muttered to himself, "Why does she have to be here? Why does everything have to unravel now?" The conflicting emotions, once suppressed, surged within him, adding to the storm that raged in his mind.
Gustav, outside the room, approached the door, hesitant yet determined to address the escalating situation. He knocked gently, "Noulan, we need to talk."
Inside, Noulan paused, contemplating whether to open the door and confront the unresolved conflicts or continue to grapple with them in solitude. The journey to the capital, initially meant to bring closure, now unfolded as a pathway fraught with unexpected challenges and emotional confrontations.
Noulan, standing near the door, clenched and unclenched his fists, a physical manifestation of the internal turmoil. His brows furrowed, and his jaw tightened, revealing the depth of his struggle. With each deep breath, he tried to steady himself, but the restlessness persisted.
Gustav entered the room, and Noulan's eyes briefly darted to the floor before meeting Gustav's gaze. The subtle shift from pacing to standing still indicated a momentary pause in the internal storm.
Gustav, sensing the gravity of the situation, maintained a composed yet concerned expression. His brows knit together as he observed Noulan, the lines on his face conveying both fatherly concern and the weight of his own experiences.
Noulan finally spoke, his voice carrying a mixture of frustration and vulnerability.
"I can't stand being around her. Too much history, too many wounds."
His gestures became more animated as he struggled to convey the complexity of his emotions. The pacing resumed, punctuating his words with restless movements.
Gustav, recognizing the depth of Noulan's turmoil, approached him with a paternal reassurance.
"We can't change the past, but we can decide how to navigate the present. The journey ahead may bring challenges, but we must face them together."
The placement of his hand on Noulan's shoulder was a gesture of comfort and an attempt to ground him in the present.
Throughout the conversation, the room witnessed a dance of emotions—a silent yet powerful ballet of unspoken words, shared history, and the uncertain future that lay ahead. The body language of both Noulan and Gustav painted a vivid picture of the intricate dynamics that unfolded within the confines of that room.