Alive || 86: Eighty-Six [ vers. ENG ]

from ashbell

"You should stop hanging around me."

"What?"

"You heard me, Theoto."

"Aren't you done with that? Besides, I told you to call me Theo."

"If I call you that, will you stop talking to me?"

"The real question is why do you want to be alone? Can't you stand me?"

Why?

Because sympathizing with the only Alba in the group could only get him into trouble?

Because I didn't want him to be left out too by the others?

Because ending up like me would only reduce his chances of survival?

There were so many reasons to consider that hearing him ask me this question – or simply not listening to me –, annoyed me.

If I had known that saving his life was going to make him care about me then... I never would have done it.

What was the point of going so far anyway? Knowing that hope was not allowed in the eighty-sixth district, giving him the chance to live a few more days, weeks, months or a year was perhaps not nearly as noble in such circumstances...

"Hey, do you hear me?"

I was a mere hypocrite...

"Oi!"

I'm disgusting...

"Ashbell!"

In addition to having shouted so close to my face, my interlocutor had put his hands on my cheeks to raise it. Our eyes met. I saw my own reflection in his emerald eyes.

Having neither the desire to continue our discussion which led nowhere or even to know what he had to say to me, I escaped from his embrace and left the building.

After the annihilation of our previous squadron, Theoto Rikka and I had been placed in a new one. Here again, I had been treated the same way: not very nice words were thrown at me every time I passed someone, jostling followed by snickering or even, they forgot to serve me my portion during our meager meals.

In conclusion, everyone let me know that I was not one of them. But then again, I could accept that. It wasn't my first or second squadron after all. What bothered me was that I was ignored before and during operations. If this continued, I was afraid that my one and a half years of experience on the front line would not save me from death...

...That's why I didn't want him around me anymore.

No matter how much kindness he showed me, such as a simple good morning or a good night at night, the fact that he did my chores for me – which was more like hazing than anything else –, or that he shared his meals with me; I couldn't involve him in my problems...