The Truth

The house was in the worst state he had ever seen it, with the exception for the time three years ago when he had tore open the entire house in search for IRIS. Pens, papers, documents and files could be seen littering every surface available. 

Comot had even taken interest in a stuffed toy which Ali owns, but how the hell did it get here when the last Ali had placed it was in his bedroom's shelf upstairs?

When he had moved a step forwards, it was with an unceremonious fall, a loud thud and great pain that he realised he had stepped on what seemed to be something cylindrical. 

"Who's there?" said a panicky, jolty voice.

Ghazali had pelted into the living room, his glasses askew, looking livid. But when he had registered Ali lying on the floor, his expression changed to something more stony.

"Oh. It's you," Ghazali said. And for some reason, he wrinkled his nose as if he had smelled something particularly rotten. 

Ali got up clumsily while his dad watched impassively. There was a moment of awkwardness as the father and son stood, not knowing what to say to each other.

"Where have you been all this time?" Ghazali asked in a abnormal kind tone, while startled Ali. "Ten days. And all you left was a note to tell me not to worry?"

Though Ali had no memory of writing a note at all, he tried to look guilty for it. Ghazali shook his head and, most surprisingly, pulled him into an one-armed hug. Ali was speechless beyond belief. He was at least expecting a storm and at least several heart-hurting swear words thrown at him, but no. Here he was, stunned, being hugged by his dad in a loving manner.

"Can you tell me where have you been, please?" Ghazali begged of him, once he had released him from the hug.

Ali took in a deep breath, preparing for the worst. "Dad, it's a long story."

Ghazali and Ali had both taken seats in the kitchen when Ali broke into speech. He had told him the truth, of course, nothing else would have explained everything as properly and satisfactory as the true story. When Ali had said everything he could remember from the very top to the very bottom, Ghazali was nothing more than stunned. Though Ali remained in his seat even though his eyes stung, in case Ghazali still required further clarification.

"So you're in that MATA organisation?" Ghazali said, awestruck. "The ones that-"

"Asked you to help make super gadgets and devices for them and tell you not to reveal it to the public for the sake of the world, yeah," Ali said rather casually, as if explaining one plus one equals to two.

"And how long exactly, have you been in this organisation?" Ghazali asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Um..." Ali raised a few fingers and counted. Since he was twelve, and now he's fifteen...so... "Three years. A few days before I got Comot."

Ghazali now burrowed his face into his hands, trying to process it all through, while Ali watched apprehensively. 

"Dad...are you OK?" he asked uncertainly. Though he wasn't sure at all that was even comforting, but it was worth a try.

"I'll just..." Ghazali said, pushing on his glasses into a better position and getting up. "Have to contact the police about this."

"Oh," Ali said, reminded of the excuse his other friends had to give. "You can tell them I've been off to vacation or something. And then got lost."

Ghazali considered it for a moment, then picked up his hand phone. 

"Alright," he said towards Ali, while the phone rang. "You get up to sleep now. You better not be late for your mission tomorrow. By the sounds of it, you will need the most energy you can muster."

"Dad-" Ali started, but then at that time the other line picked up and Ghazali had turned his back on him, talking in a very stressful manner towards the receiver.

Ali was forced to then go to bed, seeing that his dad probably wasn't going to settle this as quick. When he opened the door to his bedroom, it was to find that it was in similar state of the trashed living room downstairs. This time, he carefully threaded through the mess towards his bed. When he was within jumping range of the bed, he launched himself on his toes and landed with a muffled thud on his bed. He felt the weight of the bed shift a bit on his right, and he looked up to see that Comot had leaped up onto the bed as well and was looking at him curiously.

Ali sighed as he adjusted himself under the blankets and laid down on his extremely soft and plump pillow, looking up at the empty ceiling in a thoughtful manner. Seeing that its master was preoccupied, Comot meowed and moved to lay down on his chest, staring at him through the dim with those round blue and green eyes of hers.

"Do you think it's a mistake, Comot, telling him?" Ali asked, patting Comot's head absent-mindedly, and rather lost in the beauty of his cat's eyes.

Comot shook its head, then continued to stare at its owner, for Ali still looked bothered. 

"But then...how am I going to fight tomorrow?" Ali said sadly.

When Comot looked confused, Ali explained, "I don't have IRIS anymore. And my aeroboots were connected to IRIS, so it's no use anymore now, is it? All I just have it just my yoyo..."

Comot tapped his arm, as if trying to get his attention. Then it moved to curl up cutely next to him. Ali took a moment before he realised what Comot meant. And when he did, he laughed. 

"Thanks a lot, Comot. You're the best."

With a final, sleepy meow, it closed its eyes and went to sleep. Ali pulled the blankets around him tighter and turned onto his right, so that he faced the half-opened door, in which golden light was pouring out from. 

Distantly, he could hear his dad still talking on the phone. He closed his eyes, feeling conscious on how warm, soft and comfortable his bed was. Next moment he knew, sleep had carried him away into the land of peace.