It had been some sort of class activity. My professor was quite insistent that, in order to do well in their course, us students would have to band well together. I had no problem, initially, with the party. I’d been to multiple in my long, long life. Yet somehow, just with the very knowledge of that he would be there as well, I found myself dreading the event.
Nonetheless, I had no other choice. I could’ve waited just a few more decades for him to die off, but then my professor would’ve died as well - and I had waited literal centuries for a professor like them to roll around. Besides, it was a party - those were always highlights of my life.
The fast-food restaurant was cold - almost ridiculously so. They’re always cold, I realise. I dislike the cold, and it only added to my sour mood. The party was going terribly and it had barely begun.
Things only went for the worst as he himself walked in. Still with that ear-to-ear grin. The protegee of being amicable and friendly. Aleia.
He made his way towards an insignificant group of people, laughing and clapping shoulders. It was a wonder why they even found his presence worthwhile - every time he laughed, which was unfortunately often, I felt like claws were raking down my spine.
I’d glanced away. Clinging onto the childlike hope that if I cannot see him, then he doesn’t exist. Object permanence is a terrible thing that I’d hope to unlearn one day. All it did was make me unhappy. A terrible waste of time and brain space.
Then it happened.
Other people were at the fast-food restaurant. Of course there were - it wasn’t as if a bunch of university students could scrounge enough money to book an entire fast-food restaurant. If we had, we wouldn’t have gone to a fast-food restaurant.
A small child, a mere twelve years of age I’d learn later, started heaving. They staggered out of their booth, their hands clutching at their mid-section. With a faintly heard ‘blurp’, they proceeded to vomit pale cream substances all over the tiled floor.
We were all shocked still. Even their caretaker - the babysitter, who I don’t think had been properly briefed in what to do in such a situation - could only stare, mortified as their charge attempted to upend their entire stomach contents onto the ground.
There was only one among us that had a timely, spontaneous reaction. Only one who thought to move forward towards the vomiting projectile.
Now, I’m sure everybody else there would’ve meant well. The world is filled with kindly disposed mortals, despite what the system of oppression currently wants. Only one was commendable enough, because only one had moved quickly enough to help.
Any fool can be well-meaning, yet the bards always sing about the Heroes who move fast enough to save lives. That was exactly what Aleia had done - he’d saved a life.
Of course, I snapped out of it soon after. I’d seen a lot - this was moderately tame, in fact. Both of us rushed towards the child and gripped their shoulders - dodging the vomits as we did so. I snapped at the caretaker to call an ambulance, whilst Aleia made sure that the child didn’t begin to choke on their own puke.
The ambulance came and went. We went with it, because the babysitter was too much of a wreck to function properly; mumbling, wailing with red-rimmed eyes. There were either worried for the child or for their own paycheck - but that wasn’t what was important at the time.
We rushed towards the ER, the doctors did their thing - but it was what came after that stuck in my mind the most. The parents had longed arrived - worried to death. The doctor had told us all that the child would be okay; news that we all take with great sighs of relief.
Then came the matter of payment.
I’d my suspicions before - the child’s worn clothes, similar to that of their parents and their wide-eyed amazement at being at a fast-food restaurant - were glaring red flags. Yet seeing the parents mutter and falter for their child’s own treatment drove the truth home.
They were impoverished. Most likely on the lowest economic rung of society. Desperate for financial aid.
My fingers twitched. I could help - I knew I could. I was about too, honestly-
But as I’ve said before. Heroes are only those who act fast enough.
Aleia offered to help them pay the fee. They’d asked him how. He faltered - his eyes briefly gaining a panicked look to them. A look that made me wonder - was he in the same situation as the parents? Was that why he had acted so quickly, acted so determinedly? So ready to help, despite not being in the full ability to?
The traits of a Hero are rarely disputed. Kindness, chivalrous, yet what was most of all was the willingness to forsake one’s own self for another.
I highly doubt Aleia would’ve been able to maintain his own education, had the parents taken him up on his offer. It was extremely lucky for him that an anonymous donor soon paid up it all - and then some.
Very lucky indeed, for him. Very lucky for me as well - seeing him greet me with that same crinkled smile every time we met up was an opportunity I could’ve missed. These people were priceless, hard to find, and ridiculously rare.
Besides, being good friends with someone in your class always has its perks. For one, it made my professor very, very happy.