Bury the Light

Survivor guilt

Even though Sanemi was weak, his instincts somehow remained sharp, stirring him from nightmarish visions the moment someone nudged him. With a quiet groan on his dry lips, the white-haired boy's eyelids slowly opened, blinded by the overwhelming brightness of the day. After a few moments, his eyes finally adapted to the luminosity level, allowing him to see clearly. Beside him, a tall masculine figure with a black facemask crouched, inspecting Sanemi with his cold ashen eyes. His silvery shoulder-length hair combed back and bound by a deep blue ribbon. A snowy, sleeved haori was draped over a black fitted corps' uniform.

"Can you stand?" the masked boy asked.

"Not sure," Sanemi replied with a low groan, feeling surprisingly safe after recognising his saviour in the stranger.

If the situation differed, the wind user would push himself to stand up immediately. But as he had someone far stronger than him beside him, the boy gave himself a pass, at least for now. Looking around, he realised where he was lying. It was the exact area where these creepy children had welcomed him and the other participants a week ago. He swallowed a curse silently, remembering how little they cared, allowing them to venture into the mountain. The corps had sent – at the very least – some of them into inevitable demise, painful death at the demons' hand. Sanemi let a heavy sigh through his clenched teeth before standing up. Though, expectedly, the first attempt was an utter disappointment, no matter how hard he willed his body to move. A pang of embarrassment resided deep inside the wind user, fuelled by his refusal to come to terms with how frail he currently was. With regret burning brightly in his mind, he tried once again, but the result remained the same.

"Do not force yourself," the ashen-eyed commented after a while. "Here, take my hand," he added, extending his left hand hidden underneath a dark leather glove.

"Fine," Shinazugawa huffed, enduring another pain wave.

The masked boy stood up, steadily lifting the deadweight Sanemi had become. Even though the wind user could not muster any strength to help, it mattered not. The ashen-eyed slayer seemingly effortlessly dealt with the problem, going as far as to provide stabilisation for Shinazugawa once he was on his feet.

"Thanks," Sanemi whispered, too embarrassed to look at his saviour's eyes. "You helped me twice," he mumbled.

"I am glad you think so," came a reserved response. "But ... I do not share the same viewpoint. If only I had reached you a tad earlier, I could have saved that girl," the masked boy added hesitantly as if trying to pick his words carefully.

"I failed her," Shinazugawa said in a dead tone. "I should have made her run away," he continued, allowing the survivor's guilt to taint his voice. "I should have been the one facing this monstrosity, not her," he concluded, hanging his head low full of guilt and regret.

"You did well," the boy commented. "I feared I would find you both dead, yet you still held your ground."

"I failed," a short snappy response was provided. "If I had made her run away, I could have done more. I foolishly thought I could protect her in the middle of the fight. I was wrong, and she paid with her life because of it," the wind user grumbled with regret.

"I see," came an emotionless comment. "It is not a time nor a place. Come, let's join the others who survived the selection."

"How many?" a bearably hearable whisper escaped the wind user's throat.

"I do not know," the ashen-eyed slayer said in a response. "But ... I doubt more than five, us included," he added after a brief pause.

"Fine."

As nothing needed to be added, they slowly moved.

***

Soon enough, the white-haired slayers met the other survivors. As the ashen-eyed boy speculated, less than five participants reached the selection's conclusion. Two others stood there, trembling in fear, destroyed both physically and mentally. Even though Sanemi could not spot any missing limbs or nasty, life-threatening wounds, the uneasiness of their movements was enough for him to tell the whole story. They might have survived, but would the demons residing in their mind allow them to live, or would they suffocate them, leading to a tragedy or perhaps a suicide? No matter, it was not the wind user problem. He took the first step on his way to ensure his baby brother would never be threatened by these night creatures again. Even though bruised, weakened, and bloodied, Sanemi survived, killing or, at the very least, matching some powerful opponents.