Chapter One
Boy #1 - Akira Nakano
1950
He sat casually in the cafe. He anxiously tapped his leg up and down, similar to the way a college student would.
College. He had gone to college. Words simply cannot describe how proud he was when he held that diploma in his hand. To look down from the stage and see his parents and fiance down there, smiling up at him, it was one of the best feelings in the world.
College. His son would never get a chance to go to college. His son would never get a chance to get married to the person he loved. There would be no grandchildren running through the house, ever.
He would never see his son again. His son had left. Gone. Stolen. Murdered. Dead. His only child was dead. Akira Nakano, he was a boy with great potential. He was handsome, any girl would tell you. He was intelligent, any teacher would praise him. He was strong, oh yes, he had been strong. But he had been stronger. Oh, there had been another strong boy. Akira hadn't been the best. But that was okay, he didn't need to be.
The worst part was seeing it on television. The entire world had seen it. God, it never left his mind. It had literally driven his wife insane. She had to be placed in an institution. She lost the second baby that was on the way.
And he couldn't tell her about this. No, she was like a fragile flower and this was something she could not tolerate.
He looked up at the clock. It was time. He stood up and walked past everyone else in the cafe, he found the door, and he walked down the steps in darkness to the basement below.
. ~ .
Girl #1 - Aika Maeda
1947
She threw her cup of tea. It splattered all over the floor. The glass shattered into a million pieces. She screamed.
"You stupid girl! You stupid, stupid girl!"
But she understood it. She did. She understood what it was like to love, or at least to be under the illusion of it.
The mother of Aika Maeda was thirty years old. Her daughter, now deceased, was fifteen. Fifteen years ago, the woman had been made a mother. And oh, she was so very bitter about it.
She once had hopes and dreams and a marvellous potential, but if you were to ask her, she would tell you that fifteen years ago all of it died when her daughter was born.
She loved her child, though. She really did. Aika was just like her. Aika had dreams, she wanted to become a nurse. Aika had potential, she was smart and beautiful. Aika, too, was a lover. She was exactly the same as her mother, except that she lacked the experience. Her mother knew, and she had tried to warn her daughter of it. Once the boy who called himself a man, got what he wanted, it was undisputed that he would leave. Just like that. Aika, like her mother, still didn't care about the words passed from elders.
Aika was just like her mother. It was a curse, it really was. For Aika Maeda died when shee was fifteen years old, just like her mother before her.
. ~ .
Boy #2 - Chikaaki Aoki
1947
His father's fist hit the table. The glasses on it shook. "Damn it," he said. "Damn it."
He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. His wife and young daughter were in the next room, he had forbidden them from watching the Program, with only the best intentions in mind. They were women, it wasn't their job to see it, they wouldn't have been able to handle watching Chikaaki die like that.
And he shouldn't have died like that, in his father's opinion. If he hadn't been so dependent on his friend, he would have survived just fine on his own. He should have learned from his father how to take care of people. The man shuddered thinking of what the family would have been like if he had been the one to die. Who would care for them?
Chikaaki tried so hard, but naturally he was the kind to need someone. He was more like his mother, and that is why he tried so hard to please his father. And a proud father he was.
He turned off the television as his wife walked in. She saw a brief glance of Yukio standing in a room with two corpses nearby.
"I can tell by your face," she said quietly.
"What?" the man asked.
"I can tell by your face," she said "that our son is dead."
She sat down next to him, her provider. He nodded, and for the first time in his life, he let tears stream down his face. She wrapped her arms around him, the gentle caretaker.
"Daddy?" a quiet voice asked. Their nine year old daughter walked in.
"Go back to bed, sweetheart," her mother said.
"Daddy, why are you crying?" she asked, making her way onto his lap. "Daddy, don't cry."
"Sometimes," he said "it's okay to cry."
"But why?"
"I'm crying because your brother is dead."
He felt her tense up. "The Program?" He nodded, briefly thinking that she knew too much for a nine year old. "The dictator, he killed my brother. So I'm going to kill him."
The parents looked at each other. "Don't talk like that, darling," the father said. "It's dangerous."
As it turned out, he had a daughter that was just like him. She was a blessing, like a deadly yet beautiful flower, whose power interested all who passed by. He was going to have a lot to handle.
. ~ .
Girl #2 - Akasuki Nishimura
1950
He sat in the basement , wondering what he was actually doing there. It should have been his father in his spot, but his father was a coward who was unwilling to fight for Akasuki.
Yet the boy was a coward as well. In 1947, he had been twenty years old and his sister had been fifteen. When they came to take her away, he did nothing. He didn't offer himself as a soldier in exchange for her safe return, he just let her go. He should have done something, even though they had already taken her by the time he had found out.
He was her older brother and he was supposed to protect her. It was because of his inaction that she died. People could tell him differently, but he knew.
That's why he was there. He was there for her. All he had to do now was wait for the others. They couldn't come soon enough.
AN: So, this is a companion to my other story, First. Hopefully you like it, please leave a review and tell me what you think. Thank you for reading, have a wonderful day!