Imperial Capital of Giad

June 18th, Stellar Year 2140

Midnight.

A cool summer wind blows in from the forest. It begins as a strong gale off the distant northern tundras, blunted by the trees on its way south that by the time it reaches the schoolhouse it's diminished to a firm but pleasant touch. It sweeps through the grass of the yard and rattles the wooden fences, it scratches on the windows like an insistent finger. It curves around the sharp corners of the shed. The shed that holds a million pieces of junk, countless toys, tools, and all the infinite things a shelter kept on hand but rarely used.

In that tiny cluttered room, two sources of light traced the outline Shin's silhouette: the cold glare of the moon through a cloudless sky; the sterile blue glow of the Para-RAID on his cheek.

".:Yessir… yes, sir:." he said.

The man on the other end spoke clipped words in reply.

".:No, sir. I will- yes, sir. I understand sir… for him, yes. Glory to house Nouzen:."

The device went dark. Shin stood alone in the cool and damp air, up to his ankles in unsorted junk. His eyes caught the moonlight and the red of his irises flashed. His hands clenched at his sides.

Not enough.

It was all his master had to say to him. He spoke many words more than just those two, but left little else to take away. For the first month Shin had spent here, his master had been pleased with him. Shin had done as he was asked. He made a place for himself in one of the rebels' shelters, learned names and faces, made contacts. He did everything he'd been taught to do. In exchange, his master gave him news about his brother. He told Shin he was doing well and was proving his worth - "just like you are, Shinei" - and that the Nouzens would keep him safe, as long as Shin kept doing a good job.

But slowly after that, his master had begun to sound less and less pleased, and more and more impatient. In their latest check-ins his master told him instead how dangerous the frontlines had become. About how the rebels were getting bolder, how they kept throwing out more and more soldiers, and how the crown was growing weary of them. Of course it was nothing that posed any true threat to the Empire as it stood, but the same couldn't be said for soldiers like his brother. Shourei was out there fighting every single day, so Shin had to learn more. For his sake.

"You want to help your brother, don't you?"

Shin glanced through the window beside the door, shifting the curtains. All that greeted him was the palely glowing face of the schoolhouse with its faded white paint and black windows, the one in the corner that Kette had cracked, the spiderweb pattern across its face glowing with the moon like veins of liquid light. Nobody was watching. They didn't keep guard out here, not for this place. It was doubtful the rebels even considered this a military installation.

And that meant there was little value in staying here.

He opened the door in silence. Crossed the field in silence. Walked in through the side of the schoolhouse and made his way to the empty classroom where all their beds were, glanced across at the shapes of all the children huddled in their blankets before making his way back to his bunk and settling atop his covers, head on his pillow, eyes on the wooden frame of the bed above his. All without making a single sound, of course.

He settled in, tucking his hands behind his head.

"You don't sleep so good, do you Shin?"

Shin glanced over to see two green eyes peering down at him from over the rail of the upper bunk, iron-black hair streaming upside-down, a small nose and a small frown. Shin would have thought Kette was concerned, if concern wasn't so alien to her dictionary.

"What do you mean?"

"You do this almost every night," she said. "You go to bed. You close your eyes for a bit, then you wait until everyone else falls asleep so you can go outside, then come back awhile later."

Shin glanced over at her and saw something in her upside-down eyes. Something he couldn't exactly name. Something that discomfited him and made him feel suddenly, nakedly wrong somehow. He closed his eyes and the discomfort faded somewhat. Later, he'd realize what he saw from her was worry, not worry for what he was doing, but worry for him, and he'd know exactly why it felt so wrong.

"You gonna say anything, Shin?"

Shin kept his eyes closed and his hands tucked behind his head.

"Shiiiiinnn."

He turned his head to the wall, cheek on his pillow.

"Since my sleep is so important to you, I'll get some now," he said.

There was no response. Shin caught the sound of rustling fabric and the creak of the wooden frame as she pulled herself back into her bed, and was satisfied she'd given up.

Then she threw a pillow at him. And not softly, either. It hit the back of his head with enough force to jerk him forward and bump his forehead on the wall.

"Ow! Why'd you do that?!" he hissed, turning to glare at her. She had now drifted almost her entire upper body over the rail, hanging upside down with one arm dangling loosely, a slightly evil smirk on her face.

"It's rude not to answer someone when they're talking to you," she said.

"It's rude to throw things at people!"

"Shhh… some people actually get some sleep at night. Unlike you."

Shin rubbed ruefully at the red spot on his forehead, already starting to swell.

"You should get some sleep yourself instead of bugging me about mine."

She tilted her head quizzically, hair shifting like a curtain in a lazy wind. "But how am I supposed to do that when my bunkmate keeps getting up to stuff so late every night? It's dis-rupt-ive."

"Then I'll stay right here. I won't make a sound. So you can go right to sleep, Kette."

"I would be able to sleep, but you have my pillow."

"You threw it at me."

She shrugged her shoulder halfheartedly. "I can't sleep without a pillow, Shin."

"Then take it back!" he said, and thrust it at her. But her hand didn't so much as shift, and her green eyes flitted only momentarily at it.

"You expect me to lift up an entire pillow with my weak little lady arms?" she asked with such earnest incredulity it threw Shin off balance. "Hold onto it. I have a better idea." She pulled up out of sight.

A moment later she climbed down the ladder from the top bunk and stood over his bed in baggy blue pajamas, looking absurdly entitled as she made shooing motions with her hands. "Come on, scoot over."

"No!" Shin whispered heatedly, overcome with sudden revulsion. "I'll give you your pillow, so just leave me alone!"

"Well, I'm already here, so…"

Without further words she tossed herself on the bunk, aiming her head like a missile for the pillow in Shin's hand, and it was all Shin could do just to roll away in time to avoid being crushed. He took the covers with him.

"Hey, I'm cold over here! Gimme some of those."

Shin threw off the blanket and tossed the whole thing roughly overtop of her.

"And now you'll be cold," she said, her voice muffled beneath the thickly quilted cloth. She popped her head out. "Hold still, okay?"

Shin did so, complying only because he was experiencing a mix of fatigue and bewilderment that was just strong enough to overcome his annoyance. Like a deer in headlights he was utterly motionless, simply watching as as she smoothed out the covers and draped half of them over him and half over herself.

"Much better." She flashed a grin. Shin looked away, focusing intently on the wall.

He half-expected she'd do something to tick him off even more, like trying to pull his hair or tickle him; Kette made a relentless sport of annoying him, no matter what he did to drive her off. But she didn't. Minutes of quiet passed, filled only by the soft breathing of them and all the other kids in their bunks. Shin angled his head to glance at her through his peripheral vision.

She simply lay there on her pillow, green eyes open, turned to the top of the bunk. Somehow, just then, she didn't seem like the same annoying girl who would make fun of him for being born in a palace, or incessantly lord her one extra year of age over him, or throw baseballs at his face when all he wanted to do was read books in the library.

When Shin thought about it, he knew he didn't actually hate Kette. She could be a real pain in the butt, and she didn't ever really listen to anything he said, and she always did whatever she wanted no matter the trouble it caused. She bothered him and annoyed him, sometimes bullied him (though that was never one-sided, he always fought back) but he didn't hate her for that.

No. Actually, Kette scared him.

Shin couldn't see or understand the walls he built around himself. Even when he grew older, he would remain blind to them - in fact, the walls would hide themselves even more effectively with age. But he was aware of them in his own way. He knew there was a distance between himself and all the other kids, an invisible something that left him unable to join in their conversations, that made him keep them at a distance. But he preferred it that way. Distance that kept him comfortable, if also listless in some indistinct way.

But Kette shattered right through those walls, no matter how hard Shin tried to reinforce them. And that terrified him. It left him standing on uneven, unfamiliar ground, unsure of what to do, how to act, or even how to feel. Shin liked Kette. She was bright and vibrant and fun. She treated him the exact same way she treated everyone else, and that alone undid the world Shin had spent his entire life adapting to. Suddenly he wasn't a tainted child anymore, locked in his own box and given his own easy set of rules to follow. Now he was something else. Something without definitions and boundaries. Something he had no idea how to be.

Shin liked Kette, and he really, sincerely wished he didn't.

"You must have trouble sleeping too, then," Shin said suddenly and entirely against his better judgment.

She gave a questioning hum as she glanced at him.

"You were awake at the same time as me, if you saw me slipping out every night," he explained.

She looked back up again, at the wooden slats crossing beneath the mattress above them. Her gaze was intent as she propped her arms beneath her head, a look of utter attention that seemed better suited to looking out at the stars, rather than the bottom of some old bed.

"Do you think I'm a mean person, Shin?"

Shin opened his mouth reflexively to say yes. Yes for all the bruises she gave him barely a day after he first got here, yes for all the times she would curse him out, yes for whenever she was feeling bored and would decide to pester him with pointless games he didn't want to play. Then he stopped himself. Or rather, there was something in her voice that made him stop. He didn't know what it was, then. Much later, years later, he would realize it was loneliness, and moreover it was the same species of loneliness as he had. He would look back on those memories and see that she kept a distance just like he did, if in a completely different way, trying actively to make people hate her rather than merely keeping them away. Distance, because being far from others meant being far from pain.

"No," Shin said, and meant it. "I think you're nice, actually."

She laughed in a way that sounded far too small for her.

"Even though I'm pushy and rude and loud?"

"Mhm."

It was like the hesitant bloom of a flower growing a few weeks too early, treading the line between winter and spring when the air could still bite with its inhospitable chill. A time when flowers were not meant to survive - and yet one still did. That was her smile.

"I think you're nice too. Sorry you have to put up with me."

Shin didn't really know what to say to that. So he didn't say anything. He kept his head on the pillow, the covers drawn over his chest, and was surprised at how warm he felt. Usually he had to fight chills just to sleep.

"I have a hard time sleeping on my own," she said. "Dunno why. I don't have nightmares or anything, I just don't sleep so good when I'm alone. That's why I'm always awake to see you getting up every night.

"My daddy used to sleep with me most nights, but then he went to fight in the war. And mama… well, mama doesn't really like me, so she hates us sharing beds. 'Cause she's my mama, but she's not my mama, you know?" She looked over at him, and this time Shin didn't look away. She was still smiling, but not happily.

"Did your mama love you, Shin?"

He found himself putting his hand over his heart, fingers splaying across the rough cotton of his nightshirt, and he found that feeling there under his skin, that pocket of cold that had been buried in him since the day his mother died.

"Yeah. She loved me very much."

Her smile deepened and became more genuine. "That's good." It still wasn't a happy smile, but it came a step closer to that at least.

"Thanks, Shin."

"For what?"

"I dunno."

She drew the covers higher over herself and closed her eyes, shifting to settle in.

"Goodnight."

—

Shin watched Vance's eyes. The flames reflected in them, turning the silver of the Alba's irises into a molten, burnished gold. He watched the soldier's hands as they clenched at his sides, so tightly it turned his already-pale knuckles even further white, like he'd forced out every last drop of blood from them.

The schoolhouse was burning, hit by an incendiary shell half an hour ago. Already the fire had caved in the slanted roof and spread down the walls. Shin watched as the spiderwebbed window in the corner finally fell apart, cracked glass shattering beneath the heat.

"Those bastards," Vance growled, his breath seething through clenched teeth. "Those… fucking… bastards!"

Tori didn't correct his curses this time. Every part of her was utterly, entirely still, but the fury was as evident in her as it was in her brother.

"At least everyone was outside when it happened," she murmured.

"This isn't a base. There's no soldiers here. We don't even use it to store supplies, it's just where we keep the kids... Goddamn it! God fucking damn it! They're not human. They can't be."

"Vance, get a hold of yourself."

"What the hell do you mean, get a hold of myself? Tori, they burned down a fucking orphanage!"

"I know that. You think I'm not pissed too? But you have to stay calm."

Vance continued to stare down the fire.

"We're in charge here. Until these kids are safe and sound, we keep our cool."

"I'm going to kill them all Tori. Every last fucking one."

"And I'll be with you for it. But later. After we get these kids safe."

Vance tightened his fists even harder, so hard they began to bleed. Thin rills of red escaped between his fingers, dripped down in heavy beads to water the grass at his feet.

"Yeah. Okay." His voice was pulled tight of all feeling.

At some point Shin had turned away, focusing on filling cardboard boxes with all the junk from the shed, all the little things they might need or want wherever they were going next. Just looking at Vance was painful. It hurt him so much to see the schoolhouse like this. It hurt all of them. Tears spilled down the old teacher's cheek as she carried filled boxes to the truck. The younger kids were bawling outright. Even Kette was red-eyed while she worked.

And it hurt Shin to know that he was the reason for it all.

"You'll learn nothing if you stay in that place. Nothing of importance will happen there, and you've already gained their trust."

So Shin had promised he'd find a way to get transferred to somewhere bigger. He'd ask Vance about it, or the schoolteacher. Or so he told his master, but even though Vance came by five days a week to visit during his patrols, and even though the schoolteacher knew people from all over and could easily have helped him, in the end Shin said nothing to either of them. The truth was, he didn't want to leave. He liked it here. He liked playing in the yard with Kette and the other kids, he liked learning in the classroom and reading in the library. He liked hiking in the trails behind the house, and he liked swimming in the river on the warmer days.

Even though Shin would have to leave anyway, and even though he was putting his brother in danger by not finding information for him, he couldn't stand the thought of leaving.

So he said nothing, hoping against stupid hope that it would let him stay here forever.

And now this had happened.

The schoolhouse was burning and it was all Shin's fault. He had broken his promise, so his master had simply done what Shin could not. With this shelter destroyed, there would be no choice but to transfer all the children out to some other, busier place. If Shin hadn't been so selfish, Kette and everyone else would still be able to stay here. Now they had to leave just like he did. And all because he couldn't do the right thing.

Shin watched the fire as it spread and grew, listened to the sound of the schoolhouse collapsing piece by piece, crash of wood and showering cinders, windows exploding from the heat one after one. As he watched he resolved to do better next time. He would harden his heart. If being selfish just caused everyone pain, then he wouldn't be selfish. He would follow his orders and do what he was supposed to do. That way everything would turn out alright.

He bent down to pick up a baseball. As he dropped it into his box he realized a wet spot had formed on the back of his hand. He looked strangely at it. And then a drop of water came down and joined it, shattering into tiny liquid beads, all glowing orange in the firelight. More came down one after another, and then there was a stream of them, and his hands grew slick and soaked.

It took Shin several seconds to realize he was crying.

How y'all doing today? Life treating you well?

My day's been fantastic. I went to the range today, and the group in the next lane over was openly complimenting my shot groupings (I, meanwhile, went full muppet and didn't say a word, because I get shy when people openly praise me), so that put me in a good mood. I went home on the highway with the radio blasting, let the wind mess up my hair, and sang Dropkick Murphy songs the whole way down. I talked to some old friends on the phone I haven't seen in awhile... watched some good anime. And yesterday I got full-on stoned all the way from 3PM to 12.

I'm feeling pretty good, in other words. Kinda felt like sharing some of that energy, hence why I'm posting early. Have yourselves a damn good day! And if it's been a rough one, I hope it gets better.

- Verbosity