Title: The Wind-Born
Characters: Izumi||Pairing: N/A
Chapter Word Count: 1,053||Story Word Count: 1,053||Chapter Count: 1/12
Genre: Drama||Rated: G
Challenge: Diversity Writing, I11, 9-14 chapters; Novella Masterclass (Frontier): Random, no male characters; Random Restrict: do not use he or she in the story; Word Count Set Boot Camp, #32, 15,833; Collect the Legendary Warriors: Izumi/Spirit of Wind; Character Diversity Boot Camp, #34, alone; Bundle of Horrors, #37, air; Snakes & Ladders in Writing Land, write in the present tense; Monthly Restrict: do not use he/she; Digimon Non-Flash Bingo, #380, shivering
Notes: This is an AU. For the full particulars of that AU, read onward.
Summary: I don't know who I am. I don't remember if I've ever known who I am. But I will find my answers, no matter who stands in my way or what I have to do in order to get my memories back. And for every answer I find, it only raises far more questions.
I don't know where I am. I can' t see more than the length of my arm ahead of me. The snow and wind just keep blowing and blowing. I'm scared to keep walking, because I could fall, and I'm even more scared not to, because don't people die when it's too cold and they don't keep warm? Walking is the only thing that keeps me warm. Or close to warm, I don't think I am warm. I don't think I ever will be again.
I want to think I will be, but it's hard to tell anymore. Anyway, I keep walking. I've really got nothing else to do.
I wish that I did. I wish that I knew more about who I am and where I'm going. But I don't. All I know is the wind and the cold.
The wind is nice. Well, it isn't that nice. It's loud and it's strong and it keeps banging at me, blowing the snow all around, but I don't think the wind wants to hurt me.
That's really weird to think. I don't know much else, but I know that. The cold probably doesn't either, but it's not like the wind. The wind is different.
I don't want to think that the wind talks to me. But sometimes when I bend the right way, when the wind is loud enough, I think it would if it could. It's so loud and there are words I can't catch in it.
I think they're words, anyway. I'm not sure. I don't think I remember hearing words.
I really don't remember anything. I mean, I know what snow and ice and wind are. I know what falling is and that I don't want to do it. I know that words exist, but I can't remember anyone talking to me. I can't remember what the sound of my own voice is like.
That's mostly because I haven't tried talking, because there isn't anyone here to talk to, and I don't think it would do a lot to just shout into the wind.
Though maybe if I did, it would talk back and I could understand it?
I guess it's worth a shot. What am I going to lose if it doesn't work? There's no one around here to stare at me.
I'm not sure if I'd care if there were people around to stare at me. At least if there was someone here, I could talk to them. Maybe.
Well, I'll try.
"Is anyone there? Anyone?" I raise my voice as loud as I can, but the wind snatches it out of my throat and bounces it around and it doesn't really do anything. Only a faint echo and nothing more. Not even a hint of someone out there listening.
I guess that's all right? Or not? I don't know these things.
I keep on walking, though, because I really can't do anything else. I have to find a place where I can rest sooner or later, but I don't have the foggiest idea of where it's going to be. Would I even recognize a place to get warm if I saw one?
I like to think I would. I like to think a lot of things, but that's mostly because right now, I don't have anything else to do but walk and think and if I stop one I might stop the other and I'm pretty sure that would be a really, really bad idea.
So I just keep on walking and I try to look through the wind and snow and I'm not doing a very good job of it.
I still think I can hear voices, but they don't belong to anyone I know: not that I can remember anyway. They're not even proper voices saying something; it's just kind of howling and noise and nothing that might be a name.
Do you have any idea of how weird it is to know that if someone called you by your name that you wouldn't recognize it? That you wouldn't know if someone tried to talk to you? They could be talking to that person over there.
Just because there aren't any people over there doesn't make it any better. They could just be talking to someone that I can't see.
Because all I can see right now is the wind and the snow. The snow, at least. I don't think anyone has ever been able to see the wind.
The way it sorta tugs at me makes me wonder what the wind wants, though. The more that I keep going, the more I'm sure that it wants something. Okay, maybe it's just me being weird. If I knew what weird was. Maybe I can understand the wind.
At least I sort of think that it's trying to get me to go somewhere. It's still cold. It's still got a lot of snow blowing around and I can barely see in front of my face.
So I'd better get going and see where the wind wants me to go. It's got to be a little better than just walking on and not really getting anywhere.
I think I can trust the wind. I'm not sure, but I think so. I feel like I can. It doesn't want me to change which way I'm going that much, which I guess is all right. So I just sort of shift around a little and head the way that the wind calls to me.
I have no idea of how long it is before the snow starts to get thicker and the wind blows even harder and I'm not all that sure all of a sudden that this was the right idea. Going back isn't an option. I can't really turn around, not with how the wind howls and presses against me.
Even when I try it, just to see, I stop very fast. No sooner do I get turned around than the wind picks up and howls and nearly knocks me off of my feet. Not a good idea. So I manage to get myself turned the way the wind wants me to go.
I don't want to die. I know that, even if I don't know a whole lot else.
I hope the wind knows it too.
To Be Continued
Notes: This one is gonna get updated about every other day until I'm done.