I sigh, the breath leaving me as a quiet wind. The rubble and debris surrounds me as I head to the church. The church I was baptized in 17 years ago, the church I would go to as a little girl with my family, the church where I used to pray everyday. The church where I believed.
After the war hit and the bombing started, my family and I moved out of the area, but not before my younger brother, Hito, and I received miraculous power: these brilliant blue shards called fragments. I really can't remember how we got them sown into our bodies, all I know is that each carries an ability.
But you see, Hito's dead. He died, at the hands of Simeon, in my arms. I let him die, though, I let him drift away to wherever you go after death, into that deep, dark abyss.
But as he died in my arms, he leant his head on my chest. I remember it clearly; his blood was warm and sticky against my bare stomach, exposed by skimpy and torn clothing. He was crushed. There was so much internal bleeding, red poured from his nose and ears and mouth and eyes, any portal of exit it could find, the red seeped from. He leant her forehead on the base of my neck, his fragment resting on the hollow part in the center of my collar bones.
"Here, have this," he whispered, " I've no use for it now."
And I remember an excruciating pain digging into empty skin; it was pinching and pulling and biting and burning all at once. My physical pain mixed with the pain inside me, and released itself in a blood curdling scream.
And then I looked down, and Hito was dead. His eyes were still open, staring through-no, not quite through, more like inside-me it seemed. Our eyes had always matched, the same deep blue had always been surrounded by a crisp white. Only now, he saw nothing, he saw a black room with no lights. He had escaped the Hell we'd come to call home.
I fled. That part I don't remember. You'd think I'd be filled with some kind of rage, revenge-fueled hatred that made me rip my opponent into a thousand little pieces. But no; I left the battle grounds, his body over my shoulder, a blur of wreckage in my vision. I must've activated my ability at some point, because the attacks went right through me. People yelled for me and at me, and screams surrounded me, but I kept going.
So here I am now, at my childhood church, my dead brother in my arms. I'd cleaned him up, dressed him in his best, and begun the journey here.
Why I decided to come to the church to bury him, I'll never know. The idea slipped into my head as tears slipped from my eyes.
So here I am now, walking up the church's stairs, pressing the door open with my shoulders, walking into the reception area.
I walk into the mass area-I remember the church surprisingly well-and lay Hito at the altar. I run my hand through his dirty blonde hair, and walk to a pew, where I kneel and close my eyes.
"Father, I pray you accept my brother into Heaven. I get we're not all good down here, I really do, but… I just want something good for him." I stop and smile. "It's been a while since I've done this, sorry." I tilt my head up towards the ceiling, and finish the rest of the prayer in my head.
Hito's a good kid. We're all living in terrible times right now, and so he's been doing as good as I can ask.
I feel a breeze pass me, caressing my jet black hair.
All I need is to know he's gonna be all right… Can you do that?
I hear a howl.
Please? We've lost everything, everything, and I just want him to finally get what he deserves: happiness.
I feel someone in front of me.
Amen.
I activate my fragment. Well, my first fragment anyway. Intangibility is what it actually is, but it's called "Shadow Presence".
My eyes flutter open, and I see a white haired man in front of me. He has a tail, one wagging at that, and his eyes switch out for hearts. He wears a black, collared jacket and leather pants with combat boots as he sits on the pew in font of me, his legs between the backboard and cushion.
"Hello?" I say. I really, really don't know what to do.
He howls in response, and I feel my brows furrow.
Then it glints; a blue speck on his forehead catches the sun.
"Needless," I mutter, sprinting to the altar, to my brother's body.
I ready myself for battle, heightening my guard and preparing my second fragment.
Just then, the doors swing open, and two more people come waltzing through; a young boy, ten maybe, with green hair and a purple-headed girl with a revealing outfit.
"Who're you!" the boy shouts, "And what're you doing with Mr. Priest?"
"Yamada, you need to stop that, leaving the talking to the adults!" the girl says, hitting him on the head.
"I really wish you'd stop calling me that," the green haired kid pouts.
The girl slowly walks to me, making her each step deliberate and intimidating. She saunters up the altar stairs and leans in, so she's mere inches away from my face.
"Who're you!" she shouts, in the exact same tone as the boy, Yamada.
Apparently, he notices, because he runs his hand through his hair and opens his mouth to say something, but decides against it and lets out a huff.
"Asumi," I reply, straightening my back.
"Asumi, huh?" she says. "That must short for Tetsukazu!"
I almost fall over. This girl is serious.
"Eve!" the dog-guy barks. "That doesn't make sense."
"Tell me how it doesn't make sense!" she argues.
"Well, for one," I start, "Tetsukazu is longer than Asumi by four letters. Second, Asumi and Tetsukazu have nothing to do with each other, they mean comp-"
"So Tetsukazu it is!"