CHAPTER 2
When I died, I was expecting either fluffy, white clouds as floors or red hot, fiery pits of lava.
Instead, I was met with the Void- or what I'm led to believe is Purgatory.
Everything was black as far as the eye could see. There was no way to keep track of time in this place, but I knew I was here for a long time. To be fair, I could understand why I was stuck here. I did kill a guy just before I kicked the bucket. I totally understood, but that never stopped me from screaming out profanities into the Beyond until my voice grew hoarse from time to time when the situation was too much for me to handle.
It was the only thing I could think of to keep myself sane. Here, I was on my own with nothing but my thoughts to keep my company. The complete silence and blackness was agonizing because there was NOTHING and I was all- aloneallalonealonescreamingdarknesseverywherenothingnessNOTHINGNOTHINGBLACKNOTHING- quiet. Oh so quiet.
Statistically speaking, a human is guaranteed to grow mentally insane after spending 72 hours of inactivity and complete isolation (I'm not alone, listen to the shadows whispering). I exceeded that time a looong time ago and I was not expecting to come out of this completely sane. If I ever got out of here (The Abyss welcomes all with open arms- SHUT. UP!).
I could feel the string of profanities forming on my lips at the reminder that I would be stuck here for possibly forever. My rage (fear) was bubbling, threatening to spill over as I took in a deep breath to start shrieking my head off again (To make the stupid voices go away, to drown out it's terrifying sound in my head).
But I never got the chance as a small cry interrupted me before I could get a word past my lips. As someone who has not heard from another soul for who knows how long (Don't ignore me- you're not real, shut up), that particular sound was like a choir of angels singing into my ears. I wasted no time in pinpointing the source of the beautiful sound.
It was a baby.
It was an honest to god baby swaddled in a white, fluffy blanket.
Any positive feeling I had at thought of company quickly went down the drain. There was a baby with me. In Purgatory! What did it do, kill an ant by sitting on it?
Moving limbs I almost forgot even worked, I slowly waded over to the baby. And when I say waded, I mean I doggy paddled my way through space because the Void didn't have the decency to provide a ground to stand on.
Either way, I eventually reached the wailing baby and carefully wrapped my arms around it. Without really thinking about it, I gently held the baby to my chest and began to coo comfortingly. I knew that this place was terrifying, but I wouldn't how it felt as a vulnerable baby.
"What's a baby boy like you doing in this hellhole?" I muttered to myself, rocking the baby. If my grip was slightly tight and just a tad bit possessive, I ignored it. Thankfully, the baby stopped crying and opted to wave a teeny tiny hand over my shoulder. I let out a sigh, "How does one go about taking care of a baby in the middle of nowhere?"
I paused my rocking motion and blinked in horror as realization hit me, "... You're a dead baby."
The baby in question chose this moment to let out a whine and frantically wave his little fist over my shoulder. I raised an eyebrow and turned to look over my shoulder, "What is wrong with-"
My jaw dropped incredulously, "No. Fucking. Way."
There, just a few measly yards in front of me, was a white light.
Hope flooding into my being at the sight of the extremely cliche white light. Any form of logic I managed to salvage in my brain was quickly thrown out the proverbial window. That. That was my ticket out of this shithole. Stumbling, I took a step (When did the floor appear?) towards the white light. Panic immediately overcame me when the the light promptly started retreating at a swift pace.
"H-Hey… Wait!" I choked, running after the light with the baby cradled closely to my chest. All the previous hope I had was fading away as the light grew further with every desperate step I took. I struggled to chase after the light, panting from the sudden exertion.
I wasn't going to make it. I took in shallow breaths, my arms and legs feeling like lead. The baby was holding me down. I wasn't going to make it.
Glancing down at the little baby, I steeled my nerves and made my decision. There could only be one. Leave it, the Voice whispered in my ear, save yourself. Nodding my head in determination, I held the baby away from me. Moving before I had the chance to change my mind, I sucked in a breath and chucked the baby into the light.
Relief washed over me when he made it through and I immediately collapsed onto my knees, adrenaline still rushing through my veins. Staring as the white light quickly faded away, I was left with the oppressing silence once more. There was a pause before I let out a hysterical laugh, tears running down my cheeks.
I blew it.
I lost what was probably my only chance to get out of here. All for a baby I knew for less than five minutes. I wiped away my tears with my arm and shakily grinned into the darkness.
It was worth it.
I paused at the thought before widening my eyes in horrified realization.
Oh my god. I threw a baby into an unknown portal.
That was all I could think before I was attacked by white.
Although it was unknown to me at the time, that was my second death. Apparently reincarnation was a thing and I had the "fortune" to be reborn. I say this sarcastically because I entered the world as a stillborn. Turns out my mother was going to have twins, but an accident happened.
The baby that I unceremoniously chucked through the light turned out to be my twin brother. I like to think that it was due to my actions that he was able to be delivered successfully… Ignoring the fact that I threw him like an oversized football… Anyways, going back to me.
I was a stillborn.
After the blinding white light disappeared, I found myself back in the Void. Only this time, I didn't have to stay as long because the white light appeared again. I didn't repeat my mistake a second time and took a leaping jump into it without hesitation.
I was a miracle.
Well, according to the doctors. I was a stillborn, but after a few minutes in my mother's heartbroken embrace, I "came back to life". Everyone was surprised, I'm sure.
I only lasted a minute within the chaos before I sank into a deep sleep.
The third time I died, I didn't even notice, but I knew I still woke up in the body of the ex-stillborn baby. It wasn't until the seventeenth time I died that I figured out I was going to keep coming back to that fragile meatbag of a body.
As sad as it is to admit it, it took another twenty-seven deaths for me to coherently realize that my teeny tiny twin brother was my murderer. Well, not him him. A spirit was taking over his body to kill indiscriminately. Unfortunately for me, as his twin, I was always the nearest to him.
No, really.
I kid you not, my brother was being possessed by a raging spirit that came at night every now and then. The spirit of an adolescent tiger to be exact. I decided after a couple of revisits to the Void that I wasn't going to question the weirdness of my new life. A life was a life after all, no matter how supernatural it seemed (and how many times I died).
Near-death experience number four taught me that I could heal myself at an exponential rate, though I could not control it. Death thirty-two proved that it wasn't enough to save me when my throat was ripped out by the jaws of a tiger. To be completely honest, I treated my first one hundred deaths as an experiment to gauge my newfound ability. It was enlightening (especially when you throw yourself down flights of stairs or off the roof), though the constant need to replace my clothes was annoying.
Should I be disturbed about my seemingly continuous deaths? Probably, but that kind of thing becomes irrelevant after being thrown into the Void for who knows how long. At least dying meant something. When I was in the Void, I was nothing. It was just me and Darkness, and even then I couldn't say I was me (it was the Voice). Call me crazy, but I prefer dying via tiger than staying in that hellhole any longer than the few seconds it takes for me to revive.
Turns out dismemberment takes a lot longer to heal which meant a longer time in the Void. The few seconds was lengthened to minutes. But hey, that was still manageable.
This lifestyle was far from perfect (and was definitely not healthy), but I grew to like it. When I reached age five, I decided that ignoring everything around me in favor of experimenting on my powers was counterproductive and that I was in need of social interaction. That meant I actually left the room I stayed in for the majority of my new life.
The first thing I learned was that my surname was Nakajima, my name being Akira (something that did not change from my first life, thankfully). The second thing I learned was that my twin was energetic, clingy, and had a severe case of low self-esteem. The third was that we currently resided in an orphanage (not at all drabby as I expected it to be) that shunned my brother.
Heroism kicking into gear, I wasted no time in establishing that I was taking no shit from my brother's verbal abusers. My body may be pathetically weak and unconditioned, but my mind still knew what to do with anything resembling a pole. Long story short, I gave quite a lot of children concussions with a few caretakers mixed in.
There were moments where the situation got so bad, I blanked out in a rage but other than that, I was well behaved. The caretakers were wary of me, but eased knowing that unless my anger was triggered, I was the perfect angel.
When I deemed myself old enough to be able to handle the training, I set out to relearn the art of the bo staff. And what better way to start conditioning my body than to run for my life as a tiger chases after me? Getting back into shape was grueling work, but I somehow managed.
One of the advantages of already knowing how to do things was that it was easy to regain the skill level I had much earlier than the first time around. It was difficult getting around the caretakers to complete my much needed training, but my twin served as the perfect distraction. His self-pitying monologues never failed to reap the attention of anyone within his vicinity.
Surprisingly enough, it never got old, even after 18 years...
"Kira-chan, you shouldn't be out of bed!" My brother's panicked voice suddenly broke me out of my thoughts. I blinked from my spot next to the window, my old scratchy blanket wrapped around me like a shabby cape. I sneezed and the dull ache in my head came back with a vengeance.
Oh, right. For all my amazing healing ability, it did not include minor illnesses. Stupid powers.
He let out a stressed sigh and ushered me towards the ratty futon the two of us shared in our small room. I rolled my eyes as my brother tucked me in like a child, "Relax Tsu-kun, it's only a cold."
Atsushi wrung his hands worriedly, "B-But we don't have any medicine to-"
"It's fine." I said, resolutely ignoring the crack in my voice, "I'll be better by tomorrow."
He let out a defeated sigh and plopped down next to me, absentmindedly twisting some of my white blonde hair with his fingers. The perfect blend of yellow and purple that usually sparkled in his eyes started to darken.
I let out an irritated groan and reached up to smack his head, "Stop it. I know you're mentally calling yourself useless again and we both know that isn't true."
"It's my fault you got sick." He said sulkily, a dark cloud hanging over him. I ignored his dramatics and rolled to my side to get more comfortable, "Don't be stupid."
"But it's true!" Atsushi agonized, pulling at his hair, "I always end up at different places at night without even realizing it and you always end up being the one to bring me back. Last time it was raining pretty hard and it was cold and- Arrrggghhh, It's all my fault! It's because I sleepwalk that you got sick and I'm so sorry. I'll make it up to you-"
I tuned out my brother's customary monologue/rant in favor of dealing with my pounding headache, aching body, burning throat, runny nose, and itching red eyes. Damn, I've never gotten this sick during my life here. Ugh, I'm half-convinced to kill myself so that my body could "reset" and this damnable illness could go away. But I can't do that with Atsushi watching over me so closely. Traumatizing him was not an option, seeing as his mental state was never perfect to begin with.
Getting my twin's ghost/ spirit animal to come out and do the deed would be challenging too. Ever since we were moved to our current room, Atsushi barely had any exposure to the moonlight. Of course, that was because I eventually got tired of dying via sharp teeth almost daily and made a point to cover up the window every night.
Speaking of windows, it was almost getting to nighttime and I hadn't covered the windows for today. Stirring from my extremely comfortable spot, I pushed myself up. My vision immediately started swimming and my arms threatened to fail on me, but I sucked it up and moved into a sitting position.
Oh god, regrets. I think I'm gonna puke.
"Kira-chan…" Atsushi practically whined as he gently pushed me back down, "Just go to sleep already."
"Later." I grunted gruffly, pushing my waist length hair out of my face where it decided to block my vision. Now to get to that window…
"Sleep." He said firmly and before I could protest, started running his fingers through my hair. Against my will, I practically melted like putty under his hands. I fought valiantly to stay awake, but I was no match for the soothing strokes on my head.
Curse my weakness.
I barely lasted a minute before I was pulled into a deep sleep.