YUUKI - To Move Forward: Prelude 1

Log #290: Biology

For at least seventy-eight years, humanity has been pursued, hunted, slaughtered, and separated from each other because of an unidentifiable multitude of species that all share one common trait: the hatred of humans. Finally, after careful consideration and discussion with our top surviving scientists, we have given a classification for these monsters: Shade. The name implies that they do not represent complete darkness, and can only exist where there is light. Shade under trees, shade from rooftops, shade from other people: in almost every instance, shade will be found vastly outnumbered by light, which is one of the main reasons we have officially classified these creatures as Shade. We have not been shoved into a corner. We are not entangled in a world of darkness and hopelessness. We will not falter or hesitate because we pass through a period of darkness, because the light is always close by. Humanity has survived this long in this unforgiving world, and we have no plans of ever leaving it.

-General Shura Averin

422 BPE

I had long ago lost count of the number of times I had gone out of my way to visit the hospital. Every breath on my bike sent shivers down my throat, and every pained pedal coursed through my ankles. Of course, compared to them, the pain I endured was nothing. Even if they weren’t aware of the pain, I knew it was there. For a month now, they hadn’t eaten with their own hands, seen with their own eyes. They were supposedly alive, but even that certainty was beginning to doubt itself. More snow fell upon the frostbitten dirt, and November slipped off of the calendar.

Still, I went to the hospital.

Still, I waited for them to wake up.

“Hey, Ali.” A deep, adolescent voice reached out to me through the falling snow.

“What’s up, Matt?” I spun around, crunching the packed snow beneath me under the soles of my feet. The smile that reassured Matthew was instinctual; I didn’t need happiness to wear it. It wasn’t like anybody would notice the difference.

“Is Kazuki still...?”

But a fake smile is all too easily lost, given the right magic words. Matthew’s voice petered out, and he lowered his eyes.

“Oh. Sorry, Ali. I’m sure he’ll be back up in no time, y’know? He’s a big, strong boy. Something as silly as a house fire couldn’t keep him down!”

Matthew’s optimism was amazing. No matter the situation, he only ever looked down for a moment at a time. If I couldn’t do the same, then what good was I?

I gave him my biggest, most honest smile, and nodded in agreement.

When Matthew and I had dug them out of the remnants of their home, they were barely breathing. They had inhaled a dangerous amount of smoke, and Kazu had burns of various degrees on his arms and legs. His sister was largely unharmed, but they both had been in the hospital, comatose and unresponsive, ever since. Kazuki’s doctor reassured me with absolute confidence that they were physically fine, but mentally in shock. He said that they were fine, but that meant little while their eyes refused to accept the light around them. Every day dragged by in white darkness, and there was absolutely nothing I could do. Nothing but put my hands over theirs and beg for their awakening. The freezing air outside stung my skin, beckoning me to quit and move on. The field trip outside of the Barricade surrounding the city was rapidly approaching, and it was required that every student be presented with a minimum of a weeks of preparation in class.

But he wouldn’t wake.

“You need to snap out of it. This isn’t healthy, y’know.”

On a bench overlooking an empty park, Nicole Minas sighed. She smiled at the icy breath dissipating into the December breeze, and turned back to face me.

I shook my head at the comment.

“What are you talking about? I’m fine. See?” I gave her my best smile.

In response, her smile faded. “I knew it. You aren’t fine.”

My “best smile” was gone in an instant, and I lowered my head ashamedly. If I couldn’t even convince Nicole that I was alright, then how did everyone else see me? What good was I if I couldn’t even keep up a smile? What if they found out the truth?

“No.”

That one word was all that I could muster up, before I buried my head in my cold, black mittens.

January inched closer, and the snow thickened on the earth. The Barricade radiated a beautiful white during the nighttime, and the falling snow was visible to all. Winter had taken over, and my world became a beautiful nightmare. He who had done so much for me would accept no recompense, and might never again. I could do nothing; I had no influence over his condition, but still I visited. As if I could change his future through my presence alone, I stubbornly visited them day after day. I sacrificed hours of my dreary days to pray that he open his eyes.

Kazuki.

When that name had reached my ears two years ago, it belonged to a shy, uncertain boy who looked just like the others. The eyes of a child. The face of every blade of grass. He looked like just another rail on the track. I smiled and spoke politely, just as I had every other person who spoke to me. Every day, I waited for him to expect more from our relationship, so I could walk away decisively or bore him into leaving.

Kazu.

But then he stayed. Unlike the other rails, he didn’t say “hello” and “goodbye.” He said “Good day?” and “See you soon.” He didn’t smile at me, he smiled with me. He didn’t laugh unless I was laughing, too. Before long, I began to see my reflection in his eyes.

The promise of solitary life warned me that my past and present would not coexist. I was doomed on a path without connections. There was no future with friends. If they knew what my history harbored, the world would turn on me in an instant. Good, bad, ugly; all would become my enemy.

But I deserved as much when I ran away from the only ones who truly cared. Cruel as they were, they still loved me.

Took you long enough to figure that out.

Still, more days passed by. More time with that coal-eyed boy was spent. More life was experienced with others. And I learned of his troubles.

When I comforted him about his family, I felt solace enter my own heart, and I knew I could stick with Kazu. I realized that we were comfortable around each other in a way I had deemed impossible.

I couldn’t help but laugh out loud at how stubborn I had been. My breath froze in midair as the sound resounded through the street. But all I heard was an empty spirit.

After all, he was asleep. So was the one he cared most for.

And the thought made me terribly sad.

As December solemnly left from our lives, a miracle occurred: Rosa’s eyes welcomed the light around her. She was extremely weak, but even months spent comatose refused to steal her beauty. After hours of examination, the doctors were relieved to admit that she had not been cursed with amnesia, and was fit to return to her school sometime in the next two weeks. That spark of hope relit the faith that had dimmed in my soul, hope yet of Kazu’s recovery. I visited his bed more often, praying with hope now, and every so often the red-haired girl would join me, her beautiful face threatening to burst into tears. As Rosa’s condition rapidly improved, the doctors remained intent on assuring me that everything was fine with Kazu, and the time it was taking for him to recover was completely normal. And yet...

“Damn it! Why won’t he wake up?!”

My screaming attracted the attention of a few bystanders, who quickly lost interest in the pathetic little girl yelling at a wall. Beside me, Rosa stepped forward and put a golden mitten on my shoulder.

“Alison, come on. You can’t be losing hope now. He’s so close, I can tell.”

I turned to face her, and almost flinched at the blinding optimism of Kazu’s sister. She was so hopeful, it was almost inspiring.

Almost.

But to me, it felt empty.

Most things did these days.

“How old are you again? Sixteen? You sure are mature for your age, ain’t ya? Just a real bundle of optimism.”

“Alison...”

“What? What can you even say right now? How many months has it been since he’s even tasted a meal? How many days has he gone without a single person lifting his spirits! How long has he slept, and how much longer will he continue to sleep? Can he even wake up at this point? Is this all just a waste of time? Is he already...”

It was too cold to cry. Instead, I just fell to my knees and hid. I looked pathetic, I knew that. What college-level student did something so humiliating? And yet, I didn’t care.

Rosa didn’t care, either.

She kneeled down, and pat my head.

Pitifully.

“It’s okay, Alison. Everything will turn out fine. Know how I know? It’s ’cause I’m fine. Kazu’s not the strongest guy around, but he always picks himself back up, no matter how far he falls. And I’m always there for him until then. And now you are, too. That’s why I know he’ll be fine. He is fine. Because he’s got such wonderful people looking after him.”

When I raised my head, she was beaming at me. It hurt more than I could believe to stare at that face, but I couldn’t bring myself to look away.

Despite the cold, I began to cry.

The snowfall worsened with my heartache, and the glimpse of hope I had thought existed grew distant. Light was swallowed by shadows, as the passing of time waiting for none. No one comforted me; no one knew me. Kazu was the only person who spoke to me for more than formalities, and without him, I felt the loneliness of my past life return hauntingly. His two best friends visited, but no comfort came to me through them. Rosa spent as much time as I did with her brother, if not more. I didn’t know her, so her presence failed to cut through the shadows consuming the light. My classmates and my Squad reassured me that it would be fine, but they didn’t know me either. Days melded together, weeks became a blur, and months refused to wait for the end of the coma. The doctors could only feign certainty of his awakening, or fake assurances of his stability. Even Rosa, the kind, warm, jumpy girl who always smiled in the face of despair began to weep.

“That’s quite a scary look you’ve got there, Leader.”

“Shut up, Francis.” I said that, but I knew he wouldn’t. Francis didn’t have the capability to shut up, no matter where or to whom.

Sure enough, he responded exactly as expected.

“Hey now, careful, or the ice might freeze over around us. I don’t think I’ve seen you this cold before.”

“What of it?”

“I’m just sayin’, you’re pretty hung up about somebody who you haven’t seen in months.”

“That’s exactly why, moron. It’s because I haven’t seen him...”

“And that’s the problem,” he concluded.

What?

What was he talking about?

He continued, “You’re letting the world leave you behind as you sit around grouching about. It’s stupid to the point of being silly. I don’t know how somebody can act so childish beyond grade school. You have a Squad now, and you’re ignoring them. Studies, connections, even health are all secondary issues that you’re just tossing to the side. It isn’t good for you.”

“So?”

“Stop it.”

“Why? What do you care?”

He stopped for a moment, legitimately considering the question.

“Well, that’s a toughie. If I had to be honest, I’d say it’s because I can. Maybe it’s fun to be involved in things like this, or maybe I somehow find myself bothered that you’re throwing yourself away. The ‘why’ doesn’t really matter, though. You’re the focus, not me, and you need to take responsibility. Dig your feet out of the sand and start walking again. Otherwise, when the tide comes in, you won’t be able to fight it. And who knows, maybe Kazuki will wake. Maybe he’s further up the shore than you. If that’s the case, then what if he wakes to find that you’re buried head-first in moist sand? Do you really want to drown just because you’re worried about something you have literally no influence on? I thi–”

“Stop running your mouth, Francis, I don’t want to hear it. Not from you, at the very least.”

He stopped mid-sentence, and pursed his lips.

“Fine. Have it your way, Leader,” he spoke harshly, and trudged off out of sight.

April.

How long has it been since I’ve heard the voice of my ally, of my friend? His face remained, but his voice, his warmth slowly slipped away from my grasp. How could I open my fearful heart to anyone for so long, and have it torn away by something so cruel? Rosa had lost every bounce in her stride, and the doctors grew worried of her condition as much as Kazu’s. It felt just like that time when Zhihao passed. I had lost everything I had tried to protect, to savor. And just like that time, there was nothing I could do but watch.

Instead of facing my brother’s grave, I ran away.

Instead of moving forward, I’m drowning in my sorrow.

Several days later, I visited the hospital once again. I expected to see Rosa kneeling on the floor, or hovering over the bed, yelling and pleading in a desperate attempt to communicate with her inanimate brother. When I came in the door, however, Rosa wasn’t inside the room. My eyes drifted tiredly with dead hope to the boy’s face, and for the first time in six months, three days and fourteen hours, coal-black eyes reflecting my own stared back.