"Hey. Stay in line," one of the captains leading us all said as I strayed off to the side.
I hadn't meant to. I just wanted to see the muddy snow in the backs at the sides of the dirt road. Where I came from, snow was abundant like no other thing, but here they hardly had snow at all. If it was there, it was shoved aside and mixed with filth. They were leading us through the town to the refugee center, but I had no interest in anything other than the forest. Nowhere was safer than there. To keep me occupied so I couldn't drift again, I was handed a bundled baby and told to take care of it. The man who had given it to me looked haggard from the trip. Checking the baby to make sure his sickness, whatever it might have been, hadn't been passed along was my first thought. The baby was asleep, little clouds of steam floating out of its parted lips. I was glad it could be at peace in these times, knowing one or both of its parents were dead or would never be reunited with it again. That's what happened to me. My parents were forced to separate from me, sending me to the better refugee center. I knew I probably would never see them again. All I had left was a thick shawl and a baby now. My eyes wandered to the forest again as it appeared between the lengths of buildings. What was it like out there? Was it peaceful? Was the snow pushed aside out there too? At the next open length of forest I saw, I stepped out of line.
"Get back it line," the same captain demanded.
But I ignored him and walked quicker towards the forest, sprinting off into it with cold snow beneath my feet and the warm baby in my arms. I'd find us somewhere peaceful to live.
"It's fine! Don't worry! I'll get her!" I heard a man's voice call back in a chuckle to the angry captain as he came after me.
I ran as fast as I could, dodging trees left and right. I didn't want to go to the refugee center. That was no place for a baby to grow up. I knew how to take care of myself now. I'd been to many centers in other countries before and they weren't as nice as this one supposedly was. I heard the man keeping up effortlessly behind me though my energy was already starting to wane. Coming to the edge of a clearing, I stopped and looked at the beautiful white snow, perfectly laid out over the grass. It was a perfect sheet and I didn't want to ruin it. The man caught up and stood behind me, not attempting to grab me and drag me to the center.
"What did you stop for? Don't you want to keep running?" he asked.
"No…I can't ruin such a perfect sight. Such perfect white snow," I said back, glancing to the side where he stood now.
He admired the scene with me, his long grey hair sprinkled with snowflakes from the trees. He carried a large scroll on his back and wore a red sleeveless jacket with green circles over his thick long sleeve shirt. The cloak he'd worn like all the other captains was in his hands now.
"I've never seen such white snow. All the snow I've ever seen is brown with dirt or red with blood," I told him softly.
"It must be hard to travel alone like you are," he inquired kindly.
"I'm used to it. I've lived a long time without my parents," I sighed.
"When were you sent to the refugee centers first?"
"When I was 5. My parents couldn't come with me. There was only two boats and the boat I got on was only accepting one more passenger. It was to Suna, the better center than the one my parents went to in Kumo. It's been 7 years since I've seen them last."
"…Well, come on. Our centers are nicer than either of those. Here, I'll make a deal with you," the older man said, causing me to look at his red lined cheeks and bright eyes, "If you carry my scroll, I'll carry you. Running around in the snow with no shoes isn't sensible."
"I'm used to it," I shrugged as he pulled the strap of the scroll over his head.
He fastened his warm cloak around my neck and help me situate the large scroll on my back.
"Here, let me take the little one—," he started but I quickly stepped back.
"I have to take care of it. This baby is my responsibility now," I informed him.
"It's okay. You need a rest. Even mothers and fathers take turns caring for a baby," he assured me.
So I let him take the baby from my arms and he crouched down to let me climb exhaustedly onto his back. I held tight to his neck and watched the snow covered branches fly by through half lidded eyes as he dashed through the trees up high. Watching as the frozen flecks fell from the trees and fell on us, I marveled at their pure colorlessness. Snow wasn't brown, or red, or even white. It was transparent. Just like how I was in this world. But one would only notice snow when it piled up, like the other refugees I arrived with.
That was it. We were snow. Flowing in the wind to where ever we were pushed, without much of choice. So I let the man be the breeze, trusting he'd land me in a flawlessly covered clearing where I could shine too.