She was honestly quite sick of being sent to sleep and then rudely awakened by the likes of Kagamine Len. She was actually having quite a pleasant dream when he woke her up this time. It had been a long time since she last had any pleasant dreams.
"Are we there already?" she slurred in the manner typical of the newly awakened. Len had stopped walking, standing quite still, and she wondered why he stopped. It took her a while to realise that if they had arrived at their destination, then she was soon about to…die? Disappear? She didn't know, and it wasn't helpful that Len did not know either. "I don't want to die yet," she added, now fully awake, though her voice still held no fear. Maybe the gravity of the situation just had not hit her.
"No, you're not going to die, not yet anyway," his words were far from reassuring but she relaxed, knowing that at least she was still going to live for a while. "I just decided that maybe you should meet some of the other survivors, those who have lived with me all these years. Then you'll see what will happen to you if you survive the meeting with the masters. It might give you some hope to pull through…if you like what you see, that is," he added. Then he turned his head, meaning to look at her, though he couldn't see her fully given that she was on his back. "Do you think you can walk now? You've had quite a rest, and we're no longer in the forest anyway. We're underneath it, and the earth itself isn't as dangerous as the trees above it. At the very least, it won't try to trick you."
She blinked, looking around – she had not noticed that they were underground, mostly because there was still light glowing into her eyes. In her groggy state, she naturally assumed they were still somewhere in the forest. She realised that they were within a large, spacious passage. On either side of the passage, torches lined the walls at regular intervals, flickering in bronze braziers, burning with an intense flame. She looked back – more torches lined the wall, all the way back until the passage curved and she could see no further. She wondered who kept all these torches alight.
"I'm good," she responded, unwinding her arms from around his neck, placing her hands carefully on his shoulders to stabilise herself. He crouched down again, letting her step safely onto the ground, and made sure that she was perfectly fine before he continued on his way. The walking here seemed to be much easier than it was aboveground, true to what he said. The cavern floor was smooth and worn, and the flickering torches threw shadows all across the walls. "So you and your survivors…they all live here? In these underground caves?" she asked, her voice echoing through the tunnel.
He nodded, but said nothing else. She didn't want to force them into a conversation, especially given that the boy seemed so unwilling, so she kept quiet. She wondered why she kept seeing him as a boy, when it would appear that he was more like a young adult. Perhaps it was because he was from Neverland. Even though the Neverland she knew was immensely different from what she was presented here, she couldn't shake off the echoes of eternal youth. Peter Pan, in the story she knew, was a young boy who never grew up. Len was Peter Pan, but he was a wearied, tired version of the character. Every bit as handsome as she expected, but there was exhaustion on his face, a hardened suspicion that lurked in those blue eyes. Yet she still kept seeing him as the boy of Neverland.
They continued walking in silence. The silence was not tense or awkward, but it was not exactly comfortable either. The silence seemed almost resigned. She felt like she was a prisoner being escorted to the death row, and he was her executioner. There was a familiarity in their relationship that was unwillingly inextricable. She knew that this was not the end yet, but the knowledge that sooner or later she would be sentenced to an unknown fate…the knowledge of what would come but not knowing when exactly was frustrating. And he was not one to answer such questions.
She was, again, tempted to try escaping the fate she chose for herself. She knew perfectly well from the start what she signed up for, and that was something she did not deny. She knew that the place was difficult, and he warned her already that there were monsters, dark overlords who demanded her soul. But the reality of her situation didn't hit her until she was on her way to her conclusion. On Earth, the concept of dying, of such entities…well, it wasn't foreign. An unknown, all-powerful entity would be like God, wouldn't it? So in a sense, these dark lords were the Gods of Neverland. But the idea that God would communicate personally with her and order her destruction, now that was strange, for the God she knew was all-loving and surely would not order the death of an innocent.
What was she other than an innocent in Neverland? She had never entered the place before. It seemed laughable that she would be sentenced to death despite doing nothing wrong. The reality that this place had different rules from what she was used to never really occurred to her. She thought that what he illustrated was nothing but a possibility; when she found out that she really would be sent to their…their gods right upon arrival, she didn't know how to respond. Because none of it made any sense to her. She had to get used to a whole new set of rules, and she wasn't sure if she had the time to do that anymore. Time was a luxury in Neverland, she was starting to realise.
If she didn't learn how to play by their rules quick enough, then she would die a miserable death.
He led her through what seemed like a never-ending maze. She was starting to go a little crazy from the constant darkness, the cold sameness of her surroundings. The flickering torchlights, throwing their shadows across the rock walls, weren't helping. It was starting to feel claustrophobic.
And still they continued walking in silence. In fact, the more they walked, the more defensive the air around him seemed to become. He was standing straight and tall, walking briskly ahead of her, but he radiated cold defensiveness. It was clear that he didn't want to entertain any of her questions, and she granted his wish. But that left her stuck with the thoughts inside her head. She wondered if, since she couldn't escape her demise while up in the forest, she could stay in these underground caverns and avoid the dark masters here. This place seemed so much friendlier than aboveground.
But then Len probably knew the area like the back of his hand. He lived here, after all – this winding, unending, confusing network of passages was his home. After the fourth or fifth turn she already had completely no idea where they were going, and even less idea how to get back to where they were initially. If she slipped away, she would just wander around by herself until she either drove herself crazy, seeing nothing but rock and flickering lights, died of hunger or thirst, or ran into Len or one of his survivors – and then she would be right back where she started before her escape.
While she pondered, she followed him past another bend, and as she rounded the bend, she had to shield her eyes, her hand throwing itself up in reflex against the bright light – after spending so much time in the flickering orange light of the torches, to suddenly see a more natural white light blinded her. It was just a small square of radiance at the end of the passageway, and Len was striding right towards it. It must lead to wherever his survivors were. She suddenly hung back, a little wary – it occurred to her that she had no idea what these people were like. What if they were mentally unstable, as she suspected she herself would be if she was stuck here without any chance to leave? Or what if they didn't like her and asked Len to take her away to the masters as soon as possible? There were a whole multitude of possibilities here, and not all of them were pleasant.
He turned back halfway, realising that she wasn't following him. "What are you waiting for?" he asked, voice so neutral that she felt all the more unnerved. She didn't know what he was thinking, and the fact that she knew so little about her only guide through this hostile, foreign world was frightening. She wondered if she was stupid, agreeing to come to Neverland – but she knew that if she had remained on Earth, she eventually would have gone mad. Everyone already treated her like she was there. There was only so much she could take before she stopped trying to retain her sanity.
She followed him – what other choice did she have? – and he walked slower this time, as though to ensure she would not run away. Or perhaps she was reading too much into his actions. They steadily approached the exit of the passage, and she was struck by the thought of death – this reminded her so much of the light at the end of the tunnel. Maybe it wasn't too far off to think of this as that. It was the death of her old life she was walking towards, and that wasn't necessarily a bad thing…
Well, other than the possibility of dying she faced, but other than that everything was just dandy. "There's no need to be nervous," Len suddenly said, still walking a little way ahead of her. She was startled by the sudden sound of his voice – it didn't seem like he wanted to talk to her unnecessarily. "They're not monsters – at least, not in the moral sense of the word…" his voice trailed off, and he fell silent. Now that was curious. She frowned, trying to understand the meaning of what he said.
So they were, in a sense, monsters? She passed through the square of light into the cavern beyond, and had to scrunch up her eyes against the sudden light that washed over the area. After so much time spent underground, even the feeble rays of Neverland's sun seemed blinding. After her eyes got used to the flood of light, she looked around – they appeared to be in an open cavern, the roof of the place having collapsed on itself. She could see the trunks of the forest above stretching high up over them, and from here it looked like they were reaching out into infinity.
Then she looked down, at her surroundings. The cavern floor was littered with leaves. There was a small area in the centre of the cavern, encircled with stones – for a campfire, maybe? From this cavern there branched five other entrances excluding the one she and Len just exited from. There were dead black logs lined up in a square formation around the circle of stones, though no one was sitting there at the moment. The area was spacious and disturbingly empty. Each entrance leading from the cavern was covered in thick vines. The leaves on each vine were black, like the forest.
Outside one of the entrances, there were two poles, one on either side. One pole was a spear, she saw the sharp metal tip glinting in the weak light of the sun. On the other pole was mounted…a skull. She hoped that it wasn't a real skull. Len noticed the direction in which she was looking, and seemed to smirk, if the pained smile that flitted over his face could be called a smirk. "They're…territorial. That room belongs to Akita Nero. He has a…special way of dealing with trespassers. But you're with me, so there's no worries about that," he touched her shoulder lightly, and she felt a sudden jolt run through her body, as though she had been shocked by static. She flinched away. He didn't comment.
"Come out," Len suddenly called out, his voice reverberating through the cavern. There was silence for a while, the hollow silence that came after echoes faded away, and she waited, tense and nervous, resisting the urge to squirm where she stood. She especially kept a nervous eye on the entrance with the skull, hoping that whoever came out from there wouldn't try and kill her out of his territorial instincts. Akita Nero…she was tempted to try the name out on her tongue, see how it would sound like when she spoke it. She believed in names. There was power in saying a name, calling someone by his name. A name could reveal certain things about the person to which it was attached, as long as you listened out for what the sound told you. Listened closely to it.
One by one, figures, shapes, slinked out of the entrances, pale hands parting the vines warily. She counted four of them, four boys, all who stepped into this large, open cavern and stared curiously at her. She suddenly felt the urge to shrink back, away from their intent gazes, but stood her ground, reminding herself that nothing, nothing, could be more fearsome than the shadow monsters that lived around her and tried to tear into her at night. Nothing could be worse than her own fears. There was nothing to fear from these boys as long as Len was around, she was aware. She was safe for now, or at least she hoped she was. She hoped they would not see her as a threat.
Her gaze drifted towards the one who was named Nero. He was, like Len, blond haired, but where Len kept his hair tied up in a neat ponytail, Nero's hair was choppy and loose. His hair was shorter than Len's, hanging a little bit past his ears. His eyes, too, were not blue like Len's – they were the sharp, crystalline purple of amethyst, cold and beautiful. In his eyes there was a warning. His lips curled at the sight of her, a grimace but almost not – she wondered what he was thinking and met his gaze. He held her gaze for a moment and turned away, an almost dismissive gesture.
She turned to look at the others. The one who came out of the entrance nearest to her and Len had black hair, hair as dark as the forest above. His eyes were a striking gold – no, not gold, gold was too soft to describe his gaze. They were the amber of wolves. His face was completely expressionless, and he stood with his arms casually by his side. Like Len, she didn't know what he was thinking. He seemed to her completely unreadable. His stance was open but his thoughts were not. Yet, when she saw him, her first thought was that of a wolf – he reminded her of wolves, their lean gauntness both beautifully mesmerising and fearsome to behold. He was wolfish, from his ashy black hair to his amber eyes to the hungry, open way he held himself. He had claws, she decided. And he wasn't afraid to use them on anyone who would get in his way. She turned to look at another.
This one was staring at her, outright staring, and he looked ravenous. She almost shrank away from the fierce intensity of his stare, but forced herself to hold his gaze for these few moments. His eyes were differently coloured, she noticed – one was icy blue, the other was forest green, a few shades lighter than the deep emerald of her own eyes. His hair was straight and loose, almost to his collarbones, and they caught the weak light of the sun and glimmered a sparkling silver. He wouldn't stop looking at her, and she wondered what he wanted. It was the look of a pleading man. But she didn't know what he was pleading for. She was uncomfortable with such desire – he seemed almost like he was begging for something – and she turned away before she could drown in his gaze.
The final boy – or man perhaps would be a better term – was the one which she decided was the most approachable out of all five of them. He had a curious look on his face as he regarded her. Unlike the others, whose expressions ranged from hostile to outright want, he simply looked curious, like how another normal person might look when they were first introduced to someone. He had light green hair, which was rather different from the others who all had, admittedly, rather natural hair colours – it made her feel marginally closer to him knowing that at least, she had one thing in common with him. She had been rather self-conscious about her differently coloured hair all her life, and had always toyed with the idea of bleaching and dyeing it. She probably would have if it wasn't for the fact that her hair was excessively long, she never wanted to cut it, and spending so much money on so many bottles of hair dye just to hide her true identity was simply not worth it.
"These are the Lost Boys, the others with me who live in Neverland. Kagene Rei," Len gestured at the dark boy, who inclined his head at the sound of his name, amber gaze never leaving her, "Utatane Piko," he pointed at the silver haired boy, who flinched at the acknowledgement, "Akita Nero," Len introduced the boy whose name she already knew, and Nero narrowed his eyes, not responding in any other fashion, "and Nakajima Gumo," Len concluded, indicating the green haired one. Gumo smiled at her, and she felt slightly more at ease. "Can someone go dress Piko's wounds, he's bleeding all over the floor again," Len added, and she turned sharply to look at the mentioned boy.
Piko grimaced as he was brought to attention, Rei and Nero instantly pouncing upon him. As the other two led Piko back down the passage through which he came, she saw where the blood was coming from – she had failed to notice it earlier because all she was looking at was his face, that strange, pleading look he had been communicating to her. Now she saw that his legs, both of them, were heavily bandaged, and the right bandage was soaked through with red. "What happened to him?" she asked Len as the trio disappeared from sight. Gumo came a little closer to her and Len, situating himself on one of the logs. He said nothing, just listening in to their conversation.
Len grimaced. "Nothing you would want to know. It's not related to your…to whatever you'll be doing later," he glanced at Gumo as he said that. Gumo remained silent. "He's used to it, he'll be fine after some rest. I apologise if you found them…standoffish. Rei and Nero are especially hostile to strangers, Nero more so than Rei. They haven't seen a stranger in a long time," Len suddenly shook his head, looking wearied. "I give them what they want and this is how they react, it's ridiculous," he muttered to himself. She frowned, not understanding, but Gumo seemed to know what Len was talking about and he broke out into soft laughter, pushing his fringe back away from his eyes.
She glanced at him, and he quietened, returning her gaze. His eyes, a lighter green to her darker one, clashed with her eyes, and she wondered what he was thinking, what he thought of her. She wondered how old he was, how old all of them were. He broke eye contact first, seeming a little uncomfortable. She was used to that – her mother always told her she was strange, that she had this strangely vacant stare that, at the same time, seemed capable of looking into places people didn't want others to notice. She had the eyes of a witch. Or maybe a lunatic. Perhaps both.
"Did you post my letter?" Gumo asked Len. He had a melodious voice, slightly higher than Len's. Len refused to meet his gaze, which she found strange, but he nodded, and Gumo frowned, looking quite dissatisfied with that. "Did you post it personally?" he pressed. "Or did you just drop it in a mail box again? The previous time you said it probably got lost. I asked if you could…I don't know, give it to her directly? Did you do that, Len?" he continued. Both parties seemed to be getting agitated.
Len looked up at Gumo. "I did," he said shortly. "I went to the address you wrote, okay? They already moved away. Your mother, I mean. I don't know about your father, I don't know if they even stayed together after your disappearance," his voice softened a little, noticing the stricken look on Gumo's face. "Look, if I have any news from them, I'll tell you, okay? I know you're worried about her. If I were in your shoes, I would be too. I wouldn't keep anything from you," they held each other's gaze for a while, Gumo looking like he had more to say but the expression on Len's face clearly warning against that. He finally sighed and nodded. "Good," Len sounded relieved. "Anyway, I got this for you," Len reached into the pocket of his trousers, drawing out something – she didn't know what it was – and tossed the item at him. Gumo caught it, hand darting up so fast that it seemed almost inhuman. She blinked. Or maybe she just had comparatively slow reflexes.
Gumo studied the thing he held closely – now she saw it was an ornate dagger, the blade honed to perfection. She flinched, suddenly realising the damage it could have done if he had seized the wrong side...then she saw its sheath in his other hand, and quietly let out a sigh of relief. At least Len hadn't thrown the blade unsheathed at him. She had never liked the sight of blood. "Hey, thanks," Gumo grinned at Len, the letter matter clearly forgotten. "Rei borrowed my other one, lost it in the forest somewhere…I was starting to itch without a blade to sharpen," he sheathed the dagger, studying the thick leather, or at least she assumed it was made of leather. "Did you bring other things back?" he asked, looking up at Len again. Len shook his head, seeming regretful.
"Didn't have time to collect more if I wanted to make it back here before daybreak," he looked up at the open ceiling. The sunlight still shone down into the cavern. "The Red Indians have a Hunt tonight and it'd be best we don't miss it. Better not let Piko go, though. Don't want him running into Tiger Lily, not while he's in this state. I don't think he can handle the abuse," Len snorted softly. Gumo shook his head, looking more concerned than amused. "You know he'll heal. He'll always heal," Len's tone softened a little. "All of us heal, remember? Piko's spilled more of his own blood than the rest of us combined, and he's always survived. He'll heal faster if no one agitates him, especially not that Tiger Lily. He's had enough trauma for a few weeks," Len reached down, patting Gumo's back.
Gumo nodded, almost reluctantly. "I know you're right. We all know that. He'll be upset about missing the Hunt, though," Gumo's gaze drifted to her, and she jumped, startled, as both of them turned to look at her. She had been so absorbed in their conversation, wondering about what they were saying, that she had forgotten where she was and who she was. "Is she coming along?" Gumo now asked, and she fidgeted, not quite liking being spoken of as though she was not present.
"No," Len answered shortly. "I have…things to settle with her," then he hesitated. "Or maybe. I don't know, we'll see how our affairs go," he patted Gumo on the back again. "Go back, see what Rei and Nero are up to. They don't need this long to escort Piko to his room. Help me check what the hell is taking them so long to return – I don't need another argument between the two of them over who's the better hunter," his exasperated tone of voice seemed to show that this wasn't the first time such an argument had taken place. Gumo nodded obediently and took off, stopping at the cavern exit for just a moment to cast her one final glance. Then he parted the vines and hurried away.
There was a resounding silence in the cavern for a while. She broke it first. "So what's this Hunt about?" she asked. The way he and Gumo spoke of the Hunt made her think of Hunt, with a capital H, rather than hunt. The reverence attached to the word made it seem like an important event. Len glanced at her, his gaze shifty, and she stared him down, challenging him not to answer her.
He gave in. "Just some event that the Red Indians have," he muttered. "Their territory has the most wildlife, in this forest. The forest is split into four areas – there are the three ethnic groups, which are us," he swept his arm around the cavern, indicating him and his group of Boys, "the Red Indians, and the pirates. We all lay claim to some part of this land. The last area is where the dark masters live, in the very heart of the place. They are the middle point of the territories. We only venture there when we need to visit another territory urgently, if not everyone prefers to avoid the place. It's the most monstrous part of Neverland, ridiculously easy to get lost in there. You can see the souls of the damned dancing between the trees in the moonlight," he sounded perfectly serious.
"You explained the geography of Neverland to me," she interjected, impatient. "I was asking about the Hunt. I didn't ask for a map, though I suppose that's useful knowledge. What's the Hunt exactly? And why is it so important?" she folded her arms. She wasn't sure if she was imagining things, but she was fairly certain that Len rolled his eyes – something she never thought he would do. It just seemed beneath his dignity, somehow. Perhaps she was just too used to his dogged patience.
"Fine. The Red Indians have the most prey, don't they? So once a month, they have the Hunt. It's basically this event they throw where all three groups gather and hunt wildlife. The winning group gets to keep whatever they killed as well as the prey of the other two parties. It's a time for dance and drinking and celebration, I think it's to commemorate the day the Red Indians first settled in Neverland or something, I don't know. My history was always a little shaky," he shrugged. "Does that answer your question?" this was said somewhat snappishly, and mutely she nodded. "Good. And just a word of advice for you," again, another sidelong glance. "Asking too many questions in Neverland can easily get you killed. You might want to learn when to keep your mouth shut," suddenly, he was standing right in front of her, one finger tipping her face up towards him.
Her breaths stilled as he tilted her head this way and that. "Curiosity killed the cat and all that. It'd be a shame to see you die just like that, if you happen to survive what's to come later," he released her, and she backed away, suddenly able to breathe again, heart racing. "Not everyone is as patient as I am," he concluded. She didn't know how to respond. How would he take it if she lost it and started screaming at him? She had not thought there was a chance she would die the day she came. It hadn't sounded like that. He made it sound like dying was a possibility, not a probability. In a way, she felt cheated, perhaps even more cheated than the children he was used to deceiving.
"Well then, what do you want me to do?" she finally asked, heart still thudding. There was a sense of danger around Len – something she was growing more and more aware of, the more time she spent in his presence. At first, he was just a strange boy who presented her with a temptation, the chance to leave everything she knew and doubted behind, to visit somewhere she thought might be better suited to her needs. But now, she saw death in his gaze. His blue eyes were unforgiving, and in that instant when he tilted her head she saw nothing but coldness in his expression. She realised that he was probably used to meeting people and leading them to their deaths. And she was no exception to that long, long line of faces and memories. He probably couldn't even remember all their names.
"Just stay quiet and stop bothering me," he said placidly. The calm was more frightening than if he had spat the words out at her. He paused. "I give you my vow that, if you manage to survive the encounter with the masters later, you can ask me anything you want. But don't ask anything of me until then," he looked away, turning away entirely from her. "I don't want to have any connection to someone I might never see again. I have no emotions left to spare for such a separation. There is no more time for grief," he said softly, more to himself rather than to her. It was the first time she saw him reveal even a hint of vulnerability, and she stood aside, thinking if she should approach him. "Don't come near me," he raised his voice, as though he read her thoughts, and she stood still.
His contradictory manner was stoking her anger. She had the exact same temper as her drunkard mother. "Then what?" she demanded. "You aren't allowed to show emotion? And I'm not allowed to know that you have a human side?" he stilled, but refused to look at her. She went on. "Bad enough that I've been sent here to die, bad enough that I can blame no one but my own stupidity in agreeing to come to a barren world! But stupidest of all," her voice softened, the frustration still simmering, "is that I actually thought that you were different! That you weren't like everyone else on Earth, judging me, keeping me silent and suppressing what they knew as the truth! You're the same as the rest of them, Kagamine Len. Just running away from what you know is reality. It's pathetic, it really is," she said scathingly, the same time Gumo returned with Rei and Nero. They heard the last few words of her statement, and stood there in surprise, wondering what was going on between them.
She couldn't believe that she said all that to him. From what she saw, Len was dangerous. He was strong and he had weapons. He was probably capable of killing her right there where she stood – to survive in such a barren place, how could he avoid becoming cold himself? But he did nothing to her. He just turned at the sound of the other three approaching and went over to them, as though she didn't exist – in a low voice, he whispered something to them, and she could not hear him. The three others cast her curious looks, even Nero, who had seemed wary from the outset, and they nodded and turned away, brushing past her to the vast network of passages she initially went through to get to this particular cavern. Then Len let out an audible sigh and turned slowly, meeting her gaze.
She wondered if the expression on his face was that of regret. He did not acknowledge her words in any way, as she thought he might have. "It's time to leave," was all he said. "We need to head to where the masters are before they awaken for the night. And I need sufficient time to journey to the Red Indian territory afterwards. Don't bother trying to escape," he added as the thought flitted through her mind, "better a quick death than a slow, lingering one. And the masters will know where you are, they will always know. They see and know everything. Running is useless," he brushed past her, and she flinched – again, at the brief contact, there was a jolt of static.
She saw from the sudden tension in his posture that he felt it too, but again he stubbornly refused to acknowledge anything. "Let's go," he said emotionlessly, walking into the unknown. She did not want to follow him, but she knew she had no choice in this matter, so after him she went into the darkness, into an unknown fate. She wondered if she would survive to return here afterwards.
Did she want to return here? Not really. But she knew she had nowhere else to go.
