Never Ever Land

Date: Tuesday, February 7 - Wednesday February 8

Time: Evening, All Night, Morning.

Place: Kenshin's Nest Safe house, Lower District New Meiji, Streets of New Meiji, Library

Characters: Megumi

Megumi wasn't sure how long she stood in the entrance of the little shack. Long enough for the slender form a man leaping from rooftop to rooftop to vanish. Even then, after her new friend was nothing more than a rapidly retreating memory, her eyes tracked towards where she thought he might be moving.

(He's gone…)

She leaned against the door and looked outside at the darkening city. The sky was changing colors, now that there was no sun to keep it beautiful and blue. She looked up above the nearly black silhouettes of the building and gazed up at the fading periwinkle heavens. There were a couple of stars already out. Megumi looked at them and then realized that they were not stars at all, but planets, Jupiter and Venus, if she recalled correctly, their faint light diminished by light pollution.

Megumi glanced back at the now empty shack. It didn't seem quite as cozy and comforting as it had been when another person had shared the space with her. She stepped outside, wincing as her bare feet hit the cold roof. It was cold. She exhaled, her breath heavy with mist, and took several more steps until she was standing on the edge of the roof.

Leaning over slightly, she looked down at the ground below. Illuminated by the occasional vehicle moving quickly (trying to get out of the neighborhood no doubt) the street was a black line punctuated by traffic lights and a couple of streetlamps that hadn't been shot out. She took one more step till her toes were off the lip of the roof and she was balancing precariously on the balls of her heels.

(It would be so easy…) Megumi shifted her weight a little (just to lean forward and fall…). She longed to experience the sensation of flying again, of being weightless, her shoulders freed of burdens and her heart devoid of care. There would be a price for that moment of peace. There always was.

She hesitated for what seemed like an eternity, a bloody whip thin figure perched on an impossibly high precipice and then took a step back. (I made a promise…we made a promise to each other, one that was binding) Megumi glanced down at her finger, focusing on the smallest digit and smiled slightly. While her death would not necessarily negate her vow, it would be going against what she felt was the spirit of the tradition that she'd made with her friend. (He would not want me to do such a thing…)

And so Megumi took another step back, and then another. She sat down on the roof, bringing her knees up against her chest and wrapping her skinny arms around herself in a comfortless hug. More stars, real stars were appearing in the sky. Had she been on the ground she could not see them, the building was that high. Megumi tried to count the shimmering objects, but more began to appear and she lost count, focusing instead on the moon, the pale sibling of the sleeping sun that was beginning to rise on the far side of the rooftop.

Less bright, but just as beautiful as the sun, the moon began its wordless ascent – moving inexorably upwards over another set of buildings, spilling out icy, silvery light on the city below. There was no comfort to be gained by this rising, not an iota of warmth to enjoy or be sustained from. The moon was pitiless, cold and uncaring, a stoic celestial body that had far better things to do than ponder on the lonely people below its tangent.

The wind was picking up. Megumi felt it tugging on her hair, moving through the worn, torn clothing she was wearing. She shivered and reluctantly stood and slowly walked back to the dark little shack. Shutting the door behind her, she looked around the room. There was an electric crank light on one of the many boxed piled up. She took it and twisted the handle till a sickly yellow light began to glow from the LED Panels. It wasn't much, but more than enough for her needs.

She then ate, forcing herself to consume the rest of the onigiri and rice and drink another bottle of water. When she was finished she washed the dishes and rice cook as best she was able, not wanting to leave Kenshin's little nest in a mess.

(And leave I must…) She thought as she tip toed over to the trap door that she'd shown her. She raised it with a creak and looked down at the dark set of stairs that wound down into pitch black darkness. At looked dark and terrifying to travel down. Megumi quickly shut the trap door, her face paling with apprehension.

She remembered Kenshin's warning and decided to stay put for one more night. (I'll leave tomorrow…when the sun is back up) She decided, moving back towards the pile of blankets next to the boxes. She sat down, wrapped the blankets around her and for the first time, noticed the journal she was holding in her hands, a journal that Kenshin had written in and given to her. It was...dusty. Frowning, Megumi brushed at the dust, then paused, gently rubbing the soft grit between his fingers. (This isn't dust...it's ash)

She looked at the journal, wondering what story it told in between its ash covered bindings and carefully opened it and began to read.

October 15, 2040. My Name is Rin. I am fourteen years old and have never, ever done anything worth writing about. I'm writing this journal in English in the hope that it will make it harder for the doctors to read. I've never kept a journal in my life, but decided that a late start is better than nothing.

I learned English from my older brother. He's dead. My brother died in the war. So did my father. My mother, I think she missed my father so much that when she got sick, she didn't try and get better and died in her bed, facing the window, wearing Dad's bathrobe. That was three years ago.

Everyone in my family is dead, except me.

I wish I was dead.

Megumi reached for the crank light and turned it several more times, so that the LED light was brighter and she could read a little easier. The girl's writing was soft, feminine in form with loops and squiggles and all sorts of tender embellishments that were utterly at odds with the macabre tone of the child's journal.

The doctors found me at an orphanage. They took blood from my arm and came back three weeks later and took me away with them. I didn't want to go, but they showed me paperwork and told me I had no choice. The doctors told me that I was going to be a part of something special, that I was going to help protect people and make the world a better, kinder place.

They lied.

With a sinking heart, Megumi kept on reading, pulling the think blankets

close around her shoulders.

November 24, 2040

I've not been given a shot yet. Not yet. I hope I never do because I've seen and heard what happens to the other children. There is a ward for the children who have not had shots yet. Dr. Takani calls us the Control Group. There is another ward for children who have been given shots. It's the noisy ward. I hate the sounds that are coming from it. Screams, shouts, cries for help. The sounds never stop, not even during the day. It's worse at night. Much worse. Those of us in the Control Group all having nightmares and no matter how hard we try to plug our ears and stay awake nothing helps.

The took Miroko away today. She kicked and screamed and fought to stay with us. I tried to help her, we all did, but there were soldiers and we didn't stand a chance.

November 25, 2040

I heard Miroko last night. She was screaming, shouting saying horrible words that I didn't know she even knew. I didn't recognize my friend's voice. It sounded so wrong, so angry and horrible. I wonder what's happened to her? What is going to happen to me?

November 30, 2040

I can't hear Miroko any more. I think she's dead. I hope she's dead. The last few days have been too horrible to even write about. There are not many children left in the second ward. It's becoming quiet and that means that sooner or later they will come for more of us in the control group.

December 3, 2040

They picked me.

They picked me. What am I going to do? I don't want a shot! I tried running

away today. I was able to crawl out of a window in the bathroom and was able to run across a field of snow before a soldier caught me by the hair and carried me back to the ward. The snow was cold, but beautiful and it felt wonderful to be outside, if even for only a few minutes.

Tomorrow they are going to come for me. Tomorrow I am going to die, or wish that I was dead. I don't want to die. What person does? When my brother was alive, we talked about what we would be when we grew up. He wanted to be a solider. I wanted to be an actor or a singer. I love to sing, even now, when there's nothing left to sing about. Now he's dead, buried in China if I remember right. Will they bury me? I heard some nurses talking about the children in the other ward. They said that the ones who die get "ashed". I think I know what that means. A part of me looks forward to being ashed. Anything is better than being kept in a cage and watching child after child taken away.

There's a part of me that still wants to live. I am after all only fourteen. I feel in my heart, there there's a lot of life still left in me, that there's things I need to do, experiences that I need to have so I can say I lived a full, good life. My life as I know it, will end tomorrow.

My name is Rin. I am fourteen years old. I have never, ever done anything worth writing about, but tonight I will make a list of the things I wanted to do. Perhaps if there is a next life, if I am meant for more than ashes, I will remember this list. I hope so, because it is a good one.

I have never, ever kissed a boy. I have never, ever gone all the way with a boy. I have never, ever been to college. I have never, ever been married. I have never, ever been a mother. I have never, ever seen the ocean, or the mountains. I have never, ever been to an opera or a ballet or a play.

I have never, ever painted with oil paints, or seen Paris, or eaten a croissant. I have never, ever gone swimming at a swimming pool with a bikini on.

I have never, ever heard a boy tell me he loves me. I have never, ever told a boy I love him back.

I have never, ever really lived at all.