The kid from the Omnia competition entered Vincent’s hospital room, although his demeanor was a bit timid. As he did, the door slowly creaked shut. In his hands were slightly wilted flowers that had seen better days.

“A-are you alright?” the kid asked.

Vincent shifted a bit on his bed, winced from the pain, and replied, “Oh yeah, never been better.”

“That’s, uh, good.” He then sat down next to Vincent and neutrally smiled.

The air conditioning and the equipment next to Vincent were the only things that made a sound. There was no rustling from the bed, no movement from the kid, and no words that were spoken. The awkward silence just lingered above both of them.

“So whatcha visitin’ for?” Vincent asked, finally breaking the tension.

The kid didn’t answer straight away. He looked down at the ground and fumbled with the borderline dead daisies.

“Why?” the kid finally asked, although a bit softly.

“You’re gonna have to ask a little more than that. I get asked that question way too much.”

His head shooting straight up and his face now hardened, the kid asked, “Why did you help me? Why did you save me?”

“I don’t know”, Vincent casually answered. “You were right in front of me, ya looked like you needed help, and I felt like helping ya. That’s about it.”

The boy slammed his fist on the bed. “That can’t be it!” he exclaimed, his face having a soft confusion to it.

“What do you mean?”

Clenching the bedsheet, the kid responded, “No one does that here. You don’t make friends here, because they betray you; you don’t smile, because there’s no joy here; you don’t help someone else, because it’ll only hurt you.” As he said that, his eyes were staring directly at Vincent’s bandages.

“I don’t really like that way of thinking,” Vincent genuinely replied.

“And that’s what I don’t get. Not even Marezi would ever think about going against the Diadems, nevertheless Lucretia. But you,” he looked into Vincent’s eyes, “helped me, a kid, through a competition you had to win...and you don’t even know my name.”

Vincent sank back into his bed. “Huh, you’re right,” he admitted. “What’s your name?”

“I…” The kid just looked back down at the ground. His eyes then slowly moved from one side to another. With a deep breath, he looked back up at Vincent and answered, “Baako.”

Vincent just smiled.

“That’s the other thing I don’t get,” Baako continued. “How are you smiling?”

Vincent continued to smile.

“This place...this place is the worst,” Baako somberly stated, his eyes beginning to water. “How do you smile when there are so many people doing so many horrible things?” He began to cry. “I miss my family. I don’t get how you could smile if the past is so much better.”

Vincent finally leaned back up and patted Baako on the head. “I don’t worry about that stuff,” he said. “Thinking about that stuff is sad—I get it—so I just keep going forward. Wherever the most interesting thing is that’s in front of me is where I go.”

With tears rolling down his cheeks, Baako replied, “But there’s nowhere for me to go—I’m trapped.” His fingers caressed the metal band around his neck as he said that.

Vincent’s expression dropped ever so slightly. “I know it’s hard, but trust me, if you hope and look forward, I guarantee that it’ll work out.”

Baako looked back up at Vincent and wiped his tears. “I hope so,” he said. “Well, I have to get back to...him.” As he said that, he rubbed his right arm, which was covered by his sleeves.

Grinding his teeth a bit, Vincent replied, “Alright.”

And with that, Baako left and Vincent was left to his own devices. He sat in that room and stared at the ceiling. The flowers that Baako brought were still on his lap.

It wasn’t for another half-hour until someone else came to visit him. Coming in through the door was a familiar and much-needed sight: his friends. Fang, Eliot, and Zander entered his room and gathered around him.

“You’re finally awake,” Zander commented.

“How are you feeling?” Eliot asked.

“Hey,” Fang added.

Vincent reached his arms out, ignoring the pain, and exclaimed, “Oh guys, I’ve missed you!”

Zander laughed and replied, “Missed us? You saw us right before the competition. To you, it’s probably only been a couple hours.”

“Well, Zander,” Eliot started to counter, “he has been asleep for almost two days.”

“True,” he agreed, “but my point was that it shouldn’t seem that long to him.”

“That’s fair.”

Fang then jumped in. “Do you think he has any brain damage? That’s a long time to sleep.”

“It’s not like he ever uses his brain, though,” Zander sarcastically jabbed.

Everyone laughed, even Vincent.

“And besides,” Eliot added, still chuckling, “I’ve seen him sleep for longer.”

Vincent’s face then lit up with remembrance. “Do you remember when we all drank at your barn while your parents were away?” Vincent asked, looking at Eliot. “I think I slept for at least a week afterwards.”

“That’s right,” Zander smiled. “I swear, by the end of the night, you were so drunk that you started getting smarter.”

“Watch it, bud,” Vincent laughed.

“Oh yeah,” Eliot said, finally on the same page as the other two, “that’s the night Monte snuck us some of that green juice. I still don’t know what it is.”

“Neither do I!” Vincent commented. “Your brother was the coolest.”

“Yeah...he was,” Eliot agreed, his demeanor growing a bit sadder.

“Anyways,” Zander jumped in, changing the subject, “we have some talking to do.”

Vincent reeled his head back. “Ugh, why do you always want to talk?”

“Because we have to,” Zander sternly rebuked.

“Or ‘cause you want to,” Vincent mumbled under his breath.

“What was that?” Zander asked, much like a parent who heard their child curse.

“Nothing,” Vincent lied.

“Mhm. But anyways,” Zander clapped, “we need to get going—we have a very important meeting to attend.”

“Dude,” Vincent pleaded, “I’m literally in a hospital room with broken bones.”

“So? This is important and I need you to be there. Let’s get going.”

Zander then proceeded to walk out of the room. As he did, Vincent shot a concerned and confused look at Eliot, who answered his look with the same expressions shot across his face. Eliot then started to follow Zander out.

Fang walked over to Vincent and reached a hand out. “Is he always like this?” they asked.

Vincent grabbed their hand and started to make his way out of his bed. “I mean, he’s bad at understanding other people’s struggles, but never—fuck!,” he said, clutching at his ribs.

Fang helped him up to his feet and wrapped his arm around their shoulders, acting like a crutch of sorts. “Here, let me help you,” they kindly said.

“Thanks,” Vincent sighed.

“I just don’t think it’s very good that your friend is acting like this,” Fang commented, helping the limping Vincent to his feet.

Finally standing up, Vincent replied, “Nah, don’t worry about it, he can be an ass, but he’s still my friend.”

“Well...alright,” Fang replied.

As they made their way out of the room, slowly but surely, Vincent asked Fang, “So, what is this super important meeting thing that’s given Zander a wild hair up his ass?”

Fang snorted for a second in laughter, and answered, “Well, it’s actually a meeting with Prince.”

“Prince?” Vincent asked in awe.

“Oh yeah,” Fang answered, “I heard that we’re going to talk about taking down the Diadems, and then,” they looked Vincent in the eyes, “Lucretia.”