Year 0: The war is still ongoing and Hero and Villain recuperate in neutral territory.
“Ten years from now, if we’re both still fighting and single, we should retire and get married.”
“You’re joking.” Hero sat up in his hospital bed and moved his arm, encased in a cast, over his lap.
“Think about it. Statistically, we’ll be lucky to have all four limbs, let alone our lives, intact by the end of our career. I think if we make it that long, we should stop testing fate, and settle down.” Villain stared at the ceiling and tapped the bandage on his neck thoughtfully. “I could learn to enjoy a mundane life.”
“We don’t need to marry to settle down. If you want to retire, you can just retire.”
“I don’t think I’d ever be able to stop fighting if I knew you were still out there.” Villain turned his head toward Hero, eyes limpid in the lamplight. “I need a way to take you down with me.”
Hero looked away, fisting the starched hospital sheets with his good hand.
“There are other ways to do that besides marriage.”
“Do you have no sense of drama? Of romance?” Villain asked. “We wouldn’t have to married the traditional way. We would be bound by a ring and a promise, but our promise would be different. We could just acknowledge our survival, an end to our old lives, and look toward a safer future.”
“In ten years, do you still think I’d be a man you’d want to marry? We could hate each other by then. It feels dumb to plan so far into future.”
“You’re taking this too seriously. Don’t worry about the semantics.”
Hero flinched and looked down at his lap.
“Why bring it up then? Why make a proposal you don’t intend to keep?”
“You haven’t even agreed to the proposal yet.” Villain countered. “And I doubt it will be important to you in ten years. No one remembers a promise so far down the line.”
“I am a man of my word. I keep my promises.”
“No man is capable of keeping all his promises.”
“Well, I’ll keep this one then. I’ll show you.” Hero swore.
Villain blinked and ran a thumb over the dry blood on his chin. He turned to the ceiling, letting silence drape over them like a cloying blanket.
“I expect a nice ring, then.” He whispered.
Year 10: Villain’s house. The war ended 3 years ago.
In the end, the promise didn’t need to be kept. Illness had forced Villain into an early retirement and the last Villain had heard, Hero’s relationship with Heroine was still going strong.
He’d still bought a ring though and spared no expense on it.
He kept the box near his bathroom mirror, unopened. The ring would not fit his finger after all.
After ten years, he no longer denied his regard for Hero, and purchasing the ring had been almost cathartic. After all, that had been his initial proposal: a vow to acknowledge an end. And so he’d bought the ring, to commemorate his career and childish promises.
Year 11: Villain’s house. The war ended 5 years ago.
“I retired.” Hero breathed out as Villain let him in.
Villain smiled as Hero knocked the snow off his boots and pulled his coat off. The cold had brought a flush to Hero’s cheeks. Flecks of snow settled in his curls and Villain was struck by how little he’d changed over the years. They often caught up over text, but it’d been countless months since they’d seen each other in person.
“Can I use the bathroom real quick? I came directly from the airport and I haven’t had time to stop.”
“Sure. Its the second door on the left.”
Villain waited for a few minutes, watching the snow melt across the wood floor. He readjusted Hero’s coat on its hanger and then abruptly froze, stomach dropping.
Surely, there’s no way Hero would notice. The ring box was black, almost innocuous placed amongst his other jewelry.
The bathroom lock clicked and Villain breathed deep, putting on a smile.
“Is there anything else you need. I can put on some coffee if you’d like?” Villain asked, slipping into the kitchen. He clutched at the counter, scoring the cold marble edge into his palm as Hero’s footsteps echoed down the hall.
Hero entered the kitchen, face unreadable.
Villain fumbled for the coffee pot.
“I remembered something, when I retired.”
Villain stilled in front of the sink, fingers on the cold water handle.
“And I didn’t think you’d remember it either.” Hero continued.
The coffee pot clattered into the sink and Villain whipped around. “I wasn’t going to do anything. It was just an old promise—I wasn’t expecting anything out of it.”
Hero set a small, black box on the counter. Villain’s breath caught.
Villain stared at the box, then back at Hero, before slowly dragging the box back toward himself. He swallowed and pressed his thumb against the seam.
“It was just a gift for myself,” he rambled, popping the lid open, “I knew you were with Heroine and I never expected you to—”
He paused and glanced at Hero. His brow was furrowed with quiet devastation and his thumb curled over the the lip of the counter.
Villain looked back down at the box and the ring inside.
“It is,” Hero insisted, “you asked for it. If you don’t want it, I can take it back. I know I’m too late.”
Villain’s world spun on its head. He rounded the counter, turning back to Hero.
“Just give me a few seconds.”
Then, he bolted down the hall, grabbed the ring box from the bathroom, and returned to the counter, breathless. He dropped the box beside Hero’s. Together, they stared down at the identical cases, then met each other’s eye.
