Chapter Text
9mm.
It should’ve been enough.
It would have been enough. But in order to go through with something like that, one needs a certain sort of courage or desperation that overrides the deepest instincts that seek to keep one’s life no matter what.
When Dimitri lost his nerve and put down the old gun his father had inherited him as a ‘collector’s piece’, he knew that there was no turning back. This rare chance had passed him by, and he would never get a chance to pull the same trick twice.
Especially not now that he was assigned a shrink to make sure he didn’t actually kill himself this time around.
Dr. Seteth was all what a real shrink should be, Dimitri supposed. Clean, calm… non-threatening to the point of being absolutely bland. When Dimitri refused to speak the first few minutes of their session; Dr. Seteth had simply sat on the couch that Dimitri hadn’t taken up, looking at him without saying anything.
It must’ve been part of some sort of strange mental trick. After all, after a few minutes in silence Dimitri had found himself asking if he was actually there. When Dr. Seteth responded that he was but wouldn’t force him to say anything if he didn’t want to, Dimitri started to inexplicably open up to the man.
A perfectly unknown stranger, who actually listened. Maybe, that was what Dimitri really needed.
“Rodrigue said that talking about my feelings would help,” Dimitri grumbled. “But I don’t know if he truly cares about me, or if he’s just interested in my next outline.”
”Your next outline?”
Dimitri paused. What the—?
Dr. Seteth remained as calm as ever.
“I’m an author,” Dimitri said. “You… didn’t know that?”
“Ah, I believe my secretary did mention something like that, yes.” Dr. Seteth said, with a nod. “She asked me if Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd was actually… dab?”
“D.A.B. Those are my initials.”
“Yes, that would make sense. I suppose you and the author she asked me about are one and the same, after all?”
“Yes, it’s— you’ve never heard of the Paraselene series?”
“I don’t believe I have, no.” Dr. Seteth said, remaining as calm and unassuming as ever.
“Huh,” Dimitri had to admit. It was probably the first time anybody actually hadn’t heard about his work. “Well… I wrote them.”
“I see,” Dr. Seteth nodded. “I hadn’t heard of them after all.”
“And it’s not to boast,” Dimitri said, though perhaps that was a little more of a lie than he’d like to admit. “They’re quite popular.”
“Is that so?”
“Yeah. I’m one of the youngest best-selling authors in history. Rodrigue even said that if I managed to finish the series, there are producers waiting in the wings to make it a show and everything. But he’s been keeping them at bay, considering…”
Dr. Seteth didn’t say anything, but nodded ever-so slightly.
“…I know I should be proud of my books being so popular but…” Dimitri let out a sigh. “But they’re… they’re not good. I only got lucky to be published because my dad was friends with the editor owner. I’m no real literary genius or anything. I didn’t even have a finished outline when I started, and everyday I’m bombarded with questions how it’s gonna end, when I just… I don’t know how it’s gonna end. Not until I’ve… written it down.”
“Do you feel that you must live up to the expectations of others?”
“Of course I’ve got to live up to them!” Dimitri yelled. “It’s just— Dr. Seteth, I’ve gotten so many letters, telling me how much my work has helped people get through really dark times in their lives but… but it’s not that good. I feel like I’m…”
Dimitri clenched his fist.
“…A fraud,” Dimitri finally mumbled, after struggling to find the right word.
“Well, Dimitri. Perhaps you might not consider your work to be good enough for you, but if you have gotten letters commending you for how you have managed to give them solace through dark times… to them, the books are good enough.”
“But if they knew… I’d shatter their hopes and dreams. I can’t… I can’t let them down now.”
“Your worth goes beyond your ability to write stories, Dimitri.” Dr. Seteth said.
“No…” Dimitri let out a sigh. “No, it’s not.”
“What do you mean?”
“All of my life, I’ve written. It’s… It’s the only thing I’ve been good at. If I can’t write, then what am I supposed to do?”
Dr. Seteth didn’t respond to him.
“I haven’t been able to write since… since the accident,” Dimitri scratched his head, unable to find himself truly at ease anywhere. “My father— he never got to read the end. I promised him he’d be the first. As soon as I got the draft finished…”
“Dimitri,” Dr. Seteth’s voice gently cut in. “Perhaps we can discuss this next time?”
...
...
The sessions with Dr. Seteth helped. Really.
Dimitri was used to staying up until four in the morning trying to work on an outline but only staring blankly at the blinking white line on his dark-mode word processor for hours on end without even forcing out a single word unto that document.
It was just normal for his stomach to ache and his head hurt, only to remember that he hadn’t even eaten nor drank anything all day until his body was almost on the edge of agony. It’s not like he was doing anything like that on purpose. So it… it didn’t count as dangerous behavior, right?
Dr. Seteth didn’t seem to agree. Instead, he asked: “Do you live alone, Mr. Blaiddyd?”
“I don’t really have anybody to share my house with, since the accident.”
“I see,” Dr. Seteth mused. “That does seem problematic. Considering your latest attempt, we must take any development of self-harming behavior seriously. If your physical wellbeing is endangered by these behaviors, perhaps you could consider a temporary hospitaliz—”
“No,” Dimitri tensed up. “I’m not sticking myself in a ward.”
“That’s alright,” Dr. Seteth said with a nod. “However, let me ask you this: do you trust yourself?”
Dimitri’s mouth twisted into a scowl. He didn’t have to be a doctor in psychology to know, that this question was… dangerous. If he answered wrong, he’d get thrown into an institution and be forced to spend the rest of his days in a padded wall room.
At least, that’s what he thought it was like.
Dr. Seteth waited.
“I…” Dimitri started, “I think I’ve struggled lately, but that’s just because of the circumstances. After this moment passes, I’ll be just fine.”
“Mr Blaiddyd, may I suggest something?” Dr. Seteth said.
Dimitri gulped.
“I could arrange for a social companion for you. Having someone to keep you company and keep an eye out for you would help you through these trying times. I’ve been involved in a Garreg Mach University project where—”
“Do you think I need to be babysat?” Dimitri scoffed. “I’m an adult.”
“You are, but everybody needs companions.”
Dimitri’s mind went to his so-called friends. When his parents died on that helicopter accident, Dimitri’s friends stood by his side and were supportive at the funeral. Promises of unconditional help and support were made. And, for a moment, it seemed that he could rely on them. Until he found himself adrift like a pathetic little rowboat that was dragged out into the sea. The only thing that seemed to renew their interest in him was when he almost killed himself. They kept in touch with him, calling or texting him on shifts to check up on him… for about a week before going back to their usual routine of just living their far more interesting and important lives rather than checking up on the bitter, toxic friend of their friend group.
…Granted, they had never said that they thought Dimitri was the toxic friend of the friend group. But! It was plain to see that they never really liked him. For all he knew, they probably had a separate group chat where they just talked about him and how annoying he was. And honestly, if Dimitri had a way to join in on that group chat to say how much he hated Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, he would. Dimitri hated himself enough for that.
“Humans are social beings. We require some form of company to keep our wits about ourselves,” Dr. Seteth said.
Wasn’t that why he was paying him, though? Once a week was more than—
“You do need to interact with someone on a daily basis, considering your current circumstances,” Dr. Seteth added on, as if he could guess his thoughts.
So, basically someone to spy on him and make sure he doesn’t pull a second gun out of his ass.
Dimitri couldn’t say he was surprised.
For all he knew, Dr. Seteth and Rodrigue had talked to keep an eye out for him. Dimitri couldn’t understand why Rodrigue was so determined to keep him alive. If Dimitri died, his inconclusive book series would get some insane popularity, since the public loves to eat that morbid shit right up…
But, the thought of some idiot trying to pick up the Paraselene series and make it have a cheesy and stupid ending instead of one that genuinely respected the characters gave him pause.
No. Fuck that.
Dimitri was going to finish that series properly, damn it. And anyway, it's not like having to live with a spy was as bad as being locked up and forced to surrender his freedom.
...
...
“Shut up! There’s no way—”
“Did you see that?”
“—still feel like shit!”
Dimitri had heard of Garreg Mach University, but he had never really gone there until that day. He had hoped, that being a young man, he’d be able to get in and walk around the campus without worrying of being recognized.
But, he had done the grave mistake of paying attention to the words in the student’s chatter and he now knew, he had been recognized. Some had their phones out. Were they trying to record him? Was he going to be trending on social media?
Feeling his heart leaping to his throat, Dimitri took out his own phone and opened a web browser to look up his name.
The top result in the news section was a review of his last book. One that Dimitri, unfortunately, had been unable to resist reading over and over again. And the comment section below, full of both encouraging and disparaging comments. But that had been up since last year. There was apparently no breaking news of elusive hermit author Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd being spotted in public.
But he couldn’t just allow himself to relax yet. Dimitri then went through every social media website he could think of, and looked himself up. Most of the results were quotes from his books. Some were reviews. But none were candids of him being spotted in Garreg Mach University.
Okay. He was okay.
Now, he just had to find the RCS building, then go to the fifth floor and talk to the guard there about his appointment.
Dimitri shuffled over to the nearest campus map and scanned his eyes amongst the various buildings. He probably was going to go to someplace related to humanities. There was the Business and Management Building, the Medicine and Health Sciences Building, the Robotics and Computer Sciences Building, the—
Wait. Robotics and Computer Sciences…? RCS…?
Dimitri scanned through the rest of the buildings. There was, indeed, a Humanities and Education Building. But there was no indication that that was the building Dr. Seteth had directed him to.
Dimitri pulled out his phone once again, and checked the message Dr. Seteth had sent him.
Go to the 5th floor of the RCS building and tell the guard your name. They’ll let you in.
It’s the tall and slim building next to the MHS building.
Dimitri checked the map once again. Indeed, the Computer Science and Robotics building was right next to the Medicine and Health Sciences Building.
Why would Dr. Seteth tell him to go to the building related to robotics?
...
...
The guard led Dimitri to a large, white-walled room. The walls weren’t painted white. They were made of whiteboards. Parts of the walls were covered in indecipherable jargon, diagrams and flowcharts. The floor was marked with many strange lines. On the corner, Dimitri noticed a circle of rubber ducks around a self-driving prototype, containing the machine as if it were some kind of demon in a summoning circle.
“Dimitri, you’re just in time,” Dr. Seteth said with a smile. There were two women and one man standing next to him. “Allow me to introduce you.”
“This is Garreg Mach University’s president,” Dr. Seteth turned to one of the women accompanying him.
“You may call me President Rhea,” President Rhea had a serene smile, and she held out her hand to shake.
“Dimitri,” he introduced himself as he took her hand.
“And this is the head of the Social Companion Project,” Dr. Seteth turned to the man.
“Jeralt,” the man said, taking Dimitri’s hand in a grip that was almost crushing.
Dimitri rubbed his hand to ease the pain when he turned his eyes to the other woman in the room. When their eyes connected, she nodded at him and then said the most absurd thing he had ever heard in his entire life.
“I am an android designed by the Garreg Mach University Medicine and Health Sciences department in collaboration with the Robotics and Computer Sciences department. My function is to be a social companion for humans in deep space explorations. My serial number is 1159-9. My short name is Byleth. Spelled B-Y-L-E-T-H.”
Dimitri didn’t know how to even react to that. So he just stared at her.
“Your name is…” the lady —robot?— spoke up. “Dimitri. Is this correct?”
“Uh… yeah. Yeah it’s Dimitri,” he said looking around for any hidden cameras. What kind of weird joke was this?
“Byleth here is the latest prototype we have for the Social Companion Project,” Jeralt said, patting Byleth’s head as if she were some kind of dog. “She’s our lucky number thirteen.”
“Thirteen?” Dimitri asked.
“I am the thirteenth iteration of the Social Companion Project,” Byleth said.
“With every iteration, we’ve been able to get closer to our idea of what the Social Companion should be,” President Rhea explained. “With the help of the Visual and Performing Arts department, we gave her this life-like exterior. In previous iterations of the Social Companion Project, it was noted that her appearance was… rather eerie once she started to have more human mannerisms.”
“Shouldn’t she include the Visual and Performing Arts department in her little introduction?” Dimitri rose an eyebrow.
Jeralt shrugged. “I’ll add it to her database before lunch.”
“Right.”
Dimitri didn’t know what he was waiting for. Perhaps for someone to turn around and say gotcha! or something.
But. Nobody said anything for three whole seconds.
Huh.
“So…” he turned to Byleth. “You’re really a robot?”
“I am an android. A robot does not completely mimic the human form.”
“Right. So you’re not really a person?”
“I am an android.”
“Are you sure you’re not a girl?”
“I am an android with a feminine presentation, which in some circles is differentiated as a gynoid. But in layman’s terms, the most accurate way to describe me is as an android.”
Dimitri crossed his arms.
“Isn’t she impressive?” Jeralt spoke up. “Byleth shows to be much promise of being the final prototype iteration before mass manufacturing. We just gotta test out her capabilities.”
Judging from Dr. Seteth’s pained expression, it was clear Jeralt just said something he shouldn’t have. And Dimitri knew exactly what he had said wrong.
“I’m gonna be your test rat?” Dimitri said.
“Not at all,” Dr. Seteth said. “Consider it a… clinical trail. Before releasing any sort of medication to the general public, it is first tested with volunteers. The final choice to participate or not is yours, of course. I merely wanted to offer the option.”
Dimitri looked at Byleth up and down.
She stared back at him, unfazed by his scrutiny.
“Do I need to charge her or something?”
“Don’t worry about her management, Byleth already knows how to take care of herself,” Jeralt said. “Are you gonna accept or not? I have a meeting in ten minutes.”
Dimitri examined the strange android once more as he mulled over the choice. Dr. Seteth had said he could choose what he wanted… But Dimitri knew deep down, he didn’t really have any other choice but to accept or be locked up in the loony bin.