Survival Game, Book 1: The Fool

Act Four: Chapter Twenty-Two

                Act IV: Blood Red Moonlight

"Everyone, please stay calm! Please evacuate any elders or children first! Is anyone in need of medical attention?!" The train's driver called breathlessly. His words came out in gasps and his thinning hair was plastered to his forehead from sweat. His eyes were glazed in panic, like a trapped rabbit in a fox's den. He was almost, if not more, terrified than his passengers were over the now mangled train that'd derailed and crashed moments ago. His fear only increased as a shrill cry rang out among the seated passengers. "Somebody! My baby needs help! She's bleeding! She's bleeding bad! Help! Please!!" He made his way over to the mother's seat, his hast almost causing him to trip over the body of a man pinned under one seat. When he got there, he met a sight that shook him to his core. A girl, no older than two or three years old, had a huge gash in her head that bled profusely, staining her hair, her clothes, and her mother's clothes as well. She was shrieking with fear and pain, so loud that it drowned out her mother's cries. It was a grave injury, one that no young child could survive. Except this one, that is. This one did survive. This child survived, and never saw a day where she screamed and cried again. Though the child never knew, even now, the fate that had befallen her was one worse than death.
I was two years old that day, wasn't I...? Yuriko recalled with some sort of nostalgia. She didn't think it was nostalgia, exactly, but she knew it was a word people would use when they remembered an old memory fondly. This memory was one she only pictured from stories her mother had told her, and she had no idea how it truly went, as she was too young to remember. All she knew is that it was the last time she felt fear, where she worried rather she'd die or not. Maybe that was why she recalled that memory at that time with "fondness." That was another thing she never understood, but her former classmates used the term when they were remembering a day that was special to them. That was the last time I came near death... until now. And that was the last day I was considered "normal" by others. And now... even in death... I can't feel any fear. No fear, no relief, no sadness, no anger... only... nothing. I feel nothing. She couldn't even comprehend what those words truly meant. She only went by what other people felt.
Yuriko could remember her parents saying something about damage to her brain in the trainwreck, but her mother said she was fine other than the blood loss. That seemed to be her mother's favorite word to describe her daughter, since she'd say it a lot. That and the word, "normal." After the trainwreck, Yuriko's mother would always look at her strangely with a vacant stare. She'd get mad when Yuriko went to school and was told she'd avoid the other kids. Even the counselor was concerned one time. There was one day, her mother had even hit her over getting another phone call from the school. Yuriko had seen kids cry when their parents yelled at them, but she didn't. She wanted to, but she never could. She knew what she did must've been something her mother considered bad. After that day, Yuriko would copy the other kids' behavior and become the "normal" girl her mother insisted she was. She'd smile, laugh, cry... everything that made a person "normal." Yet on the inside, there was nothing. Not even now.
Now, she was taken in by Azumi Kimura for what she'd done to Satoshi Akasaki, and the men before that. Her charges had been erased on the promise she aided Azumi, which she agreed to. She knew what she did was considered "bad" and this was a way to do something good. She remembered telling them about what she'd done and the night she'd encountered the Grandmaster and their client. After that, she was sent to a room in Azumi's building where she'd rest and recover from the drug and get powers. Is that why he wanted this? The powers? That was her theory at least. She was told the after effects would last a week until she got her powers, but her chances didn't seem well.
Now, Yuriko was on her second day of the effects, in the same location she was the first day. She was lying on the ground, her stomach pressed against the cold floor, taking sharp gasps of breath. If there was anything she could feel, it was pain. And at the moment, she was consumed by a pain so fierce, it'd shook throughout her body in violent convulsions. There'd be a man who'd visit her and bring her meals and drinks three times a day before leaving. This time he didn't leave, instead he just sat in a chair and watched her suffering. She had assumed he was concerned for her after she hadn't eaten or drank anything that morning or noon, but why did he keep watching her? She was in a terrible agony, one that'd make other people scream or cry or beg for mercy, and she couldn't breath in no more than choppy rasps. Her body was freezing, as if she was encased in ice, and she felt so thirsty. She wanted to ask the man for water, but she couldn't speak properly anymore.
The man had noticed she was trying to speak, however, and she guessed that'd be considered a relief. He handed her a bottle of water and even put the liquid to her mouth when she was unable to grasp it. She took a few drinks, the now lukewarm liquid pouring down her scorched throat, before almost immediately coughing it back up when her stomach couldn't handle it. I wonder what he sees and feels when he looks at me... She looked up at the man's scarred and tanned face in search of an answer. The emotion in them seemed to be negative and it increased when he met her gaze. He shook his head pitifully and returned to his chair, the half full PET bottle in hand. He placed it on the end table his chair laid beside of, right next to a tray of cold food. He didn't speak anything other than, "Fight it. Don't let it kill you."
Yuriko tried to do as he say and get to her feet, but her arms and legs gave out on her. Fight it...? But, how? What she was feeling now was something she couldn't use her sources of magazines and newspapers for. The closest thing she came to was a time in high school when a classmate had gotten a stomach ache and went to the nurse. Yuriko had asked how she was on the phone later that day, copying the other girls yet maintaining her curiousity, and the girl had replied that the pain was so bad she cried. Yuriko was certain her current pain was much more intense than a stomach ache, but she never shed a single tear.
"I... can't..." She replied in two gasps of air. "I'm... I'm... dying..." She had to suck in air to say the words, her lungs burning with the effort. Even saying it aloud changed nothing. She had no fears or regrets, nor was she saddened. She'd never see her mother or father again, even when she hadn't seen them since graduating high school 4 years ago. She'd never see her former classmates either, especially the ones who called her a friend. She couldn't remember their names now, even when she seemed to be looking back on her life as it was. I keep remembering my childhood, yet I still feel nothing. She wondered what her parents and friends would say. Would she be among the people who were considered "good" during their lives? I don't think so... The lives she'd taken would most certainly make her bad. Not like it mattered much to her, even if she wanted it too. That's what they wouldn't understand... I want to feel something. I want regrets and remorse for those men, I want to cry and smile like others do. That's why I did it. I knew it was bad and yet... it was the only time I felt anything.
The man had got up from his chair once again and knelted over her, a gleaming look in his dark gray eyes. Is he sad for me...? She wondered. The man always seemed like that when he looked at her. He was someone good, by definition. He had provided her some hospital clothes to wear, though they were a simple gray shirt and pants, and would give her meals every day. He usually just checked on her a few times, but this day he'd stayed by her side since morning. She hadn't saw him eat or drink anything either, despite a tray of food being next to him the whole time. Maybe he'd answer the question she finally gathered from all of her suffering and recollecting. "Mister... I need to ask you something..." The single sentence took almost every bit of her strength. He looked down at her in acknowledgement, but his expression seemed to tell her to stop speaking. "What's... what's it like..." She sucked in another breath of air, trying to continue. "... to fear death...?" She finished with a wheezing cough.
He knelt, looking at her for a moment. He didn't reply until he saw her raise her head up a few centimeters from the floor, as if he wanted confirmation of life beforehand. "I'm sorry, I cannot answer your question." He replied in a gruff voice. "Warriors cannot fear death, for we must devote our lives to preventing the deaths of others. Besides, you will not die. Even if you don't know how to fight it, you must find a way. Think of why you asked me such a question. It must mean you want something. That's why you should live and achieve that thing you want. Dying will mean you failed and even though you don't see it, dying without achieving your goal is the worst fate imaginable."
Worst fate imaginable? She repeated the words in her head. It was something she could slightly comprehend. Her mother often said it would've been better if Yuriko had died, so she wouldn't have to live like she did. It was before Yuriko had became her mother's definition of "normal," but she guessed it meant the same. Maybe he thinks the opposite. That I should live and keep trying to understand what it's like to feel anything. I want to... I truly do. Her vision was starting to blur as she looked up at the man. I'll do as you say, Mister... as hard as it may be, I'll try... I'll try to do my best. That was her last thought before slipping into unconsciousness.