Chapter 105 - The Drunk Driver

Gabriel entered the bus just before the driver closed the doors, climbing the stairs two at a time. While trying to catch his breath, he paid for the bus fare then sat in the front row, ignoring the strange gazes the other passengers threw at him. Of course, he also turned a blind eye to the bus driver's not-so-discreet glances. The middle-aged man looked at him through the mirror now and then, seemingly wanting to ask something, but Gabriel pretended not to notice it.

So what if he wasn't dressed appropriately for the cold weather and his appearance was disheveled? Right now, Gabriel could care less about other people's thoughts; he didn't even bother plastering a smile on his face as an apology for disturbing the ride and instead wore a cold expression, keeping everyone at bay. Today, he was not in the mood to entertain anyone.

Sneaking out was a risky move that would probably arouse his stepmother's suspicions if she ever were to find out, which would cause many problems, but at the moment, it didn't matter to Gabriel. At any rate, he was good at making up excuses, and Tristan said he would help him out. Although that boy was still very young, he was a bright kid. He knew he could count on him.

Rubbing his temples, Gabriel thought back on the evening news, a feeling of dread rising in the pit of his stomach. This morning, a tragedy occurred, one that shocked the whole country. It hadn't been long since classes started again as the holiday season had just ended, but there was a shooting in a high school classroom, and over ten students died; five were between life and death, three received severe wounds, and many more were injured. It had been a slaughter.

The reporter said that the perpetrator butchered his way with a hunting knife when he had no bullets left. He stopped taking lives only after the police shoot him down, killing him on the spot. They had been unable to reason with the man and had to break down the door to enter the classroom, which the perpetrator had locked and guarded so that no one would be able to escape. The classroom was on the third floor, and the windows were too small to allow the teenagers to flee through them. Well, even if they had been able to jump off, there was no guarantee they would survive the fall.

It was unclear how the man managed to obtain a gun, but his identity was rapidly discovered; it wasn't hard to find. He was a well-known teacher at that high school, having worked there for a decade, and once the reporters got a hold of that information, his name was almost immediately made public. It was a name neither Gabriel nor Misha could ever forget: Eric Anderson, the drunk driver who had run over Mrs. Brown on Christmas Eve, ending her life in a gruesome way.

In the two previous timelines, he was arrested soon after the incident, then sentenced to jail. Killing someone while drunk driving sent him to prison for several years; that is to say, it made it impossible for him to slaughter a whole classroom. But by saving Mrs. Brown, that man didn't hit anyone and wasn't imprisoned, resulting in him being free. It led to this tragedy. For the time being, no one knew precisely why it had happened; however, the consequences were there, and many lives had been lost.

Clenching his fists, Gabriel gazed out the window, feeling like tonight would be a long night. Misha always pretended to be a tough guy, but in reality, he was a compassionate soul. How would he react after learning that saving his mother caused so much pain to others? For sure, it wouldn't give birth to any good feeling.

As such thoughts whirled about in his head, the bus slowly made its way to the station closest to Misha's house. Gabriel quickly fled outside once he reached his stop, not minding the biting cold of January. Because he had snuck out from his bedroom, he couldn't take his coat in the hallway closet, nor could he take his boots. Thus, all he had on him was an old pair of sneakers, jeans, and a sweater. His clothing wasn't warm enough to brave the freezing weather, and the icy wind mercilessly whipped his face, burning his skin. The cold seeped deep into the marrow of his bones, yet he didn't seem to notice it.

Not paying any heed to his body screaming in pain, Gabriel forced his legs to move forward. Usually, it was a 20-minute walk, but by running his heart out, it took him half the time to reach Misha's house, although he almost slipped a few times. A thin layer of snow covered the sidewalk, making it slippery. Even so, he didn't slow down and soon arrived, still in one piece. Pinching his lips, he repeatedly rang the doorbell until Masha slammed open the door, appearing to be in a foul mood.

"What the hell?! Can't you wait two sec—" Masha's angry shout came to a halt, her eyes growing wide as Gabriel entered her line of sight. "Gaby? What are you doing here? Oh my god, your lips are purple! And your cheeks are bright red! Why are you wearing so little?! Do you want to freeze to death?!"

"Long story short, I snuck out. Where's Misha?"

"He's in his room…?" answered Masha, a touch of suspicion in her voice as she took a step aside, allowing Gabriel to enter the house. "He locked himself up after dinner, saying that he didn't want to see anyone. To be honest, he didn't look very well. Hell, he seemed to have come face to face with a ghost! Wait. Do you know what's going on?"

"Well, yeah, I'll tell you later."

"…?"

Quickly removing his shoes and socks, which had gotten wet because of the snow, Gabriel then dashed upstairs b.a.r.e feet, nodding at Mrs. Brown in passing. Stopping before Misha's bedroom, he took in a deep breath before speaking in a clear and loud voice despite his heavy breathing, saying as he knocked on the door, "Misha, it's me. Can I come in?"

"…Hm."

It was a monosyllable answer, but it sounded like a positive one, so Gabriel didn't wait any longer and turned the doorknob in a swift movement. Even if it had been a clear 'no', he would have barged in anyway. Right now, Misha shouldn't be left alone. He had the bad habit of bottling up his feelings and distress, just like his sister. Tomorrow morning, he would surely pretend that everything was fine when, in fact, nothing was.

Before entering the bedroom, Gabriel made an okay sign to Masha, who was downstairs, staring at him with a frown. Her mother stood beside her, glancing back and forth between the two with a worried look on her face. Pretending he hadn't noticed the unsaid questions lingering on their lips, Gabriel mouthed, 'Everything is fine. I'll take care of Misha, don't worry.'

Without further ado, he opened the door before gently closing it behind him. Then, he walked up to the bed where Misha sat, his knees against his c.h.e.s.t and his body wrapped up in a blanket. Only his little head was visible, the night lamp barely illuminating his pale face.

"You know," started Misha, his eyes locked in front of him, fixing nothing, "there was one thing that Santa Claus told me before my transmigration that I never understood the need to say until today."

Without a word, Gabriel sat on the edge of the bed, patiently waiting for Misha to continue. Letting out a hollow laugh, Misha tilted his head to glance at the man from the corner of his eyes. He then said:

"Do you know what he told me? He said that he added a special option to the watch. After one year following my transmigration, if I want to go back to my original timeline and erase the changes I've caused to the past, I can. Just by pressing a button, everything would go back to how it was before."

Misha paused to sniffle before resuming, his lips trembling and tears welling in his eyes, "He's making me choose between my mom and a bunch of teenagers. So many teens died because I saved her! Why?! Just why?! I only want to be with my mom and my sister, nothing more, so why is it that strangers are paying the price for my wishes? Even Vanessa's life was turned upside down! This is… This is not fair."

Stretching a hand, Gabriel grabbed Misha's shoulder to pull him in his arms. Gently holding his head against his c.h.e.s.t, he said in a soft voice as he stroked his back, "You did nothing wrong, Misha. You don't have to feel guilty for saving a life, even if it caused others to lose theirs. Saving someone is not something bad, and it will never be."

Not having the strength to answer, Misha simply buried his face in his c.h.e.s.t, gripping his sweater with his tiny hands. Biting his lower lip until it bled, he silently cried in the man's arms, feeling his heart shatter. No matter what Gabriel said, his conscience wouldn't allow him not to blame himself. He knew very well how painful it was to lose someone dear, and today, many suffered such excruciating pain because of his choice, making them felt like they were living a nightmare.

The evening news showed a few parents who had rushed to the school, and some were on their knees, bawling their eyes out. They were agonizing over the death of their children, and that image would forever be burned in his mind, tormenting his nights.

The cost for his mother's life, Misha would never forget it for as long as he lived, thinking of it whenever his eyes landed on his mother. Now he knew: whether it was done with good intentions or not, changing one's fate would always bring about disasters to others, as if to balance out the changes.

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