step

step

step

step

step eleven

step twelve

step thirteen

step fourteen

step fifteen

Sixteen!

Sixteen steps!

…hmmm….

Six! Teen! steps!

Fif! teen! steps!

Four-teen!

Thir-teen!

Twelve!

'leven!

Ten!

Nine!

Eight!

Seven!

Six!

Five-four-three—hup!

…zerooo!

Rebecca! …what did I say about playing on the stairs?

Daaaaay-viiiiid…!

Sunshine.

It is sunny, warm. A light breeze, a few clouds.

A rustle of a tree overhead, faint bustle of the street below, the grass all around. The laughter of the children in the park down the other side of the hill.

Paper. The feel of glossed paper and a heavy, hardcover book and it's turning, turning, turning pages. A notebook and the symbols drawn on it. Ink.

A patter of footsteps up the stairs, up and up and up the path, drawing nearer.

"Daaayyyyviiiiiid…! ….you said we could play in the park, together…." And disappointment, betrayal. Pouting.

"I'm sorry, Becca, but I've got to study. The storm last week put me behind. Heh, actually, I would be with Fletcher now, but he wasn't hearing it. 'I can take a second forty-eight hour shift this week, you can't afford to.'"

"Big bro's always so busy after those storms," A moaning sigh, but understanding. She sat near, lying on her stomach, head resting on arms, kicking her feet in the air. She became confused. "…I thought you were done with your classes."

Sigh. More pages turned, more symbols etched. "I was. But with a new region being added to the [Guild] means a hundred-plus Pokémon being [allowed into Guilded Lands], and…" Page turn. Turn, turn, turn, turn, turn, stop. Flip back two pages. There. "…gotta know them."

A gasp, "Does this mean Zonny is coming home soon?!"

The etching froze for a moment. Well hidden dread, veiled guilt, averted eyes.

"Did… has Fletcher told you how he's doing? Helping out with the integration and all?"

"I've been writing him [letters] and all the people there say he likes getting them and I've been getting pictures from him back—they're on the fridge, remember?"

Meet her eyes, so excited, so hopeful. She… the truth will destroy her. Undo all the happiness Zonnen gave her, Fletcher said, we can't tell her. "O-oh! Right! I'm sorry, Becky. After the week and all this studying, I'm a bit out of it."

Page turn, page turn, rub face. Sell the lie.

She giggles, "You're like big bro when he gets back from working for two days."

"Hey, I do the two-day shifts too!"

"But you sleep forever and are completely fine when you wake up! Big bro takes a few days until he's normal. But until then he's all groggy."

"And you can trick him into getting you tons of ice cream."

"And I can trick him into getting me tons of ice cream!" Fletcher was right, she was starting to fade a bit from being alone all the time. But now there was a lot of joy, a lot of laughter on her face. The most there's been in a long while.

The grin was no longer a sheepish lie.

"I have to wonder how much trouble you'll get into this time…."

"I won't!"

"Ha! Why not?"

"Because he's my big bro!" There's a surefire excuse. "And you're my little bro!"

And that's silly. "Says the munchkin to the [university] student." Pleasant, heart-warming, but just silly.

A shove, harsh but playful. "Why do you keep calling big bro that anyway?"

"There are some who like to be called by their last name. Even with us." Shrug. "It's just the way he is."

"Oh…." Confusion crossed her face. She frowned, head tilting. "Well, he's always big bro to me!"

"And that's fine—"

"And you are little bro!"

And now it's not funny, "Rebeccaaaaa…."

But she thinks it's hilarious.

…ah, well… let her. She means well enough. Her smile is rare these days.

Turn page. Turn page, turn, turn, turn—

"When is Zonny coming home though?"

Freeze. Back to this. …unfortunate... lie.

"So… Fletcher hasn't told you how helpful he's been with the integration…? Well, he's been extremely helpful, and so they want him to help on another project—"

Gasp! "You mean the [Utopia] project?!"

That's… a surprise; that she knows about that, "Y-yeah. The [Utopia] project. He's being moved to work on the [Utopia] project the moment he finishes—how do you know about the [Utopia] project anyway? All the talk I know of it is [from Alkono—]"

"At school, there was a day where the other students's parents came in and they talked about what they did, and one of them worked at the [laboratory] where the [Utopia] project was being made and it was so cool…! …David, I want to work on the [Utopia] project when I grow up!"

"Awwww, so much for mine and Fletcher's presentation that one day, huh? Well, if that's your dream, you'll be in the same boat as I'm in, the S.S. 'How Your Grades Doin'?'"

"Jenna thinks I can totally do it. She's helping me too!"

And the eyes roll, "Jenna adores helping—hold on, how do you know Jenna!?"

She counters with her innocent smile, "[Well, when you first got here, there was a time where you were gone for a few weeks. You got a letter from her during that time. It just sat there on the table for the longest time, and I felt bad that she wasn't getting a reply. So I wrote to her, saying that you weren't home. We became pen pals!]"

"That's… very much like Jenna. …heh, yeah, that definitely sounds something Jenna would do."

"Yup! We've been [sending each other so many letters ever since then]! She's just like a big sis!"

Naturally, naturally…. "Why is she big sis, but I'm little bro?"

She grinned, face scrunching as she tried to hold back a laugh.

Oh, of course… "Little bro was heridea, wasn't it?"

Rebecca nodded, snickering behind her hands. Her face was beaming; she was enjoying messing with him.

Sigh… "This… this explains so much. You've been doing her bidding all this time? Reordering my books incorrectly? Drawing doodles saying stuff about my notes? […drawing silly things on my helmet when I'm not looking?]" And she explodes into laughter. "…Arceus, Jenna. Here I thought I was going crazy—doing all that stuff in my sleep or something! I thought I was rid of you for a year and here you've had an apprentice all this time!"

Down and down the hill Rebecca rolled, giggling and laughing and beaming. She stopped at the bottom, pointing to the park, "Come on, David! You promised!"

The book. One page, two page… five, ten…. And then there's the notes, the diagrams, the mnemonics, the memorization. Have to know it, must know it.

"Hold on, just give me a minute!"

"Daaaaay-viiiiid….."

Quietly, "All I ask is for me to finalize my thoughts. I'll be there in a…."

Something is wrong.

Earthquake? No, it's the air, not the ground. Tornado—no, they don't occur here. Usually. Is it another storm? This sudden? There would have been a warning—a gale of wind.

[The smell of burnt cinnamon.]

Abandon the books. Abandon the books, down to Rebecca. To Rebecca, now. Something is wrong.

"Rebecca, we're leaving. Now."

"W-what's going on? Why are you acting weird? What about your books?"

"Something is wrong. I don't know. Something is wrong—you don't smell that, do you?"

["I-isn't that the quarry?"]

The wind is picking up, the skies are clear but the wind is picking up and something is wrong. What does it mean what does it mean what does it—shelter. There's no shelter here—the tree or the play area—tree is too high up, never stand under a tree. Play area, under the big wooden play escape thing—whatever it's called!

[There's some confusion amongst the kids there. Some are afraid. Some parents are corralling their children]—another gust, [burnt cinnamon]—

[CRACK!]

Bright purple—the sky, filled with clouds? This fast?

"D-David?! W-what's—"

[CRACK!]

"That's not lightning that's— …rain. It's going to rain. …no, that's not—EVERYONE GET UNDER SOMETHING NOW! STOP LOOKING AT THE SKY AND FIND SHELTER!"

[CRACK!]

The sky—something's raining, but it's not rain—shelter! Shelter! The slide!

The rain burns! The rain burns—shrieking. The kids, the parents—Rebecca!

The slide! Metal. It's safe underneath. The rain hits it, pings off, runs down. It's fine. It's safe.

Rebecca. She's crying. Scared, terrified. Hurt.

"Rebecca, let me see your arms."

She nods. Large, teary eyes. Small burns where the rain hit her, on the arms and legs. Not heat, not electrical, not… they can't be acid? No. No, but they're burns. The rain burns.

"It hurts, David."

And it hurts….

The rain sizzled against the [turf] of the playground, just outside. The smell of [burnt cinnamon] and singed [grass] filled the air. The rain didn't puddle, it hit the [grass and ate away at it], then evaporated.

[Burnt cinnamon.]

Rebecca coughed.

"Can I have your water bottle?"

She nodded and pulled it out of a pocket from her backpack.

"Thank you. Arms please."

Water… water doesn't do anything for the burns. Pain was still in her eyes. It was the bravest of her faces, but her eyes….

First aid. She needs first aid—where's everyone else? Under the big part of the play thing. Or in the [enclosed gazebo]. First aid would be there, in the [gazebo].

Safest place would be the [gazebo].

…that's thirty [trodes] away.

Thirty [trodes] of rain and burns. Rebecca can't make it through that.

[Burnt cinnamon.]

But where everyone else is, under the big part of the play thing. It's connected to the slide platform with a few lanky bridges and monkey bars. The monkey bars aren't covered, but it's only three [trodes], then up into a covered part of the play area, then down a covered slide, then a two-[trode] dash back under cover. That's fine. She can make that.

[Burnt cinnamon.]

This can't be safe to breathe.

["Becky, your scarf… I'm going to wrap it over your nose and mouth; I want you to breathe slowly through it okay?] See? I'm doing the same thing. I want you to stay calm. I need to go and find the first aid kit at the [gazebo] and check if anyone needs help. But first we're going to meet up with everyone else in the middle of the—"

[CRASH!]

Rebecca shrieked.

"You're okay, Rebecca. Shh-shh-shh-shhhh... You're okay, Becky. That…"

The… the bridges. The chain that connected them disintegrated? No, it all fell together, in one piece. The connections? That's… it's splintered, the small center platform that linked the two bridges, it was splintered and tore apart by the weight of the bridge. [Lightning? Purple lightning—]

[CRACK!]

[CRASH!]

A streak of purple, something on the other side of the play area fell.

…that dash to the middle was now far too dangerous for her.

"D-David?"

"Hmm?"

"They hurt and they won't s-stop itching..."

She was scratching at the burns. They were turning purple, like bruises but there was no bruising. They were spreading.

Oh, no.

"Becky, can I have your backpack? Thank you."

What's inside? [Allergy medication], her [helm—that goes on her head now].A small pack of adhesive bandages.

"Okay, Becky, put these on the itchiest ones. And try not to scratch them, okay?"

That gives her something to do, something to keep her mind and hands busy.

Towel and a bagged lunch; cheese sandwiches and an apple to split. Right, the picnic...the towel can buy enough time to make it past the monkey bars.

"Becky, can you stand?"

She tried. She fell. She shook her head, eyes full of tears. Her eyes.

"It hurts, David. My legs hurt to move them. …D-David? What's happening…?"

…carry her. Cannot leave her here. Cannot leave her here!

Tie the towel around her neck, like a cape; it'll do fine as a barrier like that.

"Get on my back, Rebecca, I'm going to carry you."

"…I… my arms hurt, David. I can't."

"Rebecca, I am not going to leave you here on your own!"

She's sobbing, "I-I can't, David! It hurts! It… hurts…" Big, teary emerald-green eyes looked up, looked into, looked through, "Y-you'll be right back, right?"

"I'm not going to leave you alone here, Rebecca."

"I-I'm fine. It… it just hurts. W-we weren't in the rain for that long. B-b-but…."

She looked to the [gazebo].

…but others were. And if she's just lost all her energy from these burns then….

"…okay, you're right. I'm on the scene; I need to help the others. But if anything happens, I'm coming right back in an instant."

"Promise?"

"I promise, little sis."

Even with the scarf over her face, she smiled. It was in her eyes, pushing through the pain and the fatigue, "Be good, Davey."

"Heh, don't get into trouble… yourself…"

Her eyes fluttered closed and she was asleep.

Her breathing, okay. Pulse… fine.

The rain just took all her energy away. Just… just cocoon her in the towel… she will be fine.

She is fine.

She will be fine.

After all, you promised, David.

"…is anyone there…? …hello? Are you hurt…?"

[Burnt cinnamon.]

[CRASHHH!]

[Burnt cinnamon.]

Over the rain, there was shouting. In the doorway to the [gazebo], someone was calling out. And, from the main play area, someone was shouting back.

[CRACK!]

Need to get moving. Unpleasant circumstances, more so than usual, but stay in one place longer and they'll just get worse. Just wait for the next [lightning strike] and then bolt.

A streak of purple darted over the playground—

[CRACK!]

Now! Across the fallen bridges! Under the monkey bars! Up into the play thing, down the slide! Underneath the—

[CRASHH!]

The slide shook—teetered—fell!

Too close, the [lightning] hit the platform at the top of the slide. The supports holding the roof gave way and landed on the slide. No going back that way, but there's more pressing matters at hand.

"Is everyone alright? How many are hurt?"

They're all huddled together in the very middle. Kids are crying, parents are fussing, pets are whining.

Then who was shouting at the—

[CRASHH!]

Something screamed and fell, out in the rain. …there, someone tried to run to the gazebo, [an adult. He fell just short of the structure. He didn't make it. Someone darted out from the gazebo and dragged the still form into cover.]

[Nothing can be done for him for the moment—]

["D-daddy? I-is my daddy okay?"]

[A small girl stood nearby, scratching at a single large purple welt on her left wrist. Her eyes, on the brink of tears, but trying so hard to be brave.]

["I don't know, but I'll make sure of it when I go over there."]

["O-okay." She turned, worriedly looking towards the gazebo. She scratched the burn more. …on the back of her wrist. …no it's chaffed all around?]

["Hey, my name's David. I'm going to help everyone one here as much as I can. What's your name?"]

Pandora.

"Pandora? That's—"

[Burnt cinnamon.]

[CRASHH!]

Pandora stared at the structure in the distance, unfazed.

["…can I see your arm?"]

[Burnt cinnamon.]

She held her arm out plainly. [The welt went around her entire wrist and leeched up into the palm of her hand. It was spreading faster down towards the elbow. The chaffing from her scratching] drew a crisscross lattice of faint, dark crimson under the purple burn.

[Burnt cinnamon.]

["Okay, can I ask that you stop scratching it? You're bleeding and I don't know what this stuff is. …you said your name was—"]

CRACK!

Empty red eyes turned.

Pandora.

"R-right. Sorry. [Do you know if anyone else is hurt?]"

[Burnt cinnamon.]

No one can be ever hurt as much as I am.

[Burnt cinnamon.]

["But what about—"]

No one else was under the play equipment.

[Burnt cinnamon.]

The cries, the fussing, the whining, they had all fallen to silence a long time ago. Only anguish remained.

[Burnt cinnamon.]

[Save a horrible, horrible lightning strike, the girl would be safe here. The gazebo. Get to the gazebo. First aid kit. Rebecca. Get back to Rebecca.]

Yes, you promised, didn't you?

CRACK!

CRACK!

CRASHHHHH!

And there went another platform, far behind.

["O-okay, I need to get the gazebo], Pandora. […s-stay here. D-don't move. Help] won't [—will! Help will] not [be coming—just… stay here!] Forever."

Burnt cinnamon.

Now run. Run away. Run through the rain and these rains, shielded only by guile.

The gazebo? Oh, a solid structure. It had stood here for thirty years, painted a pretty white color. It had seen many things, many people, many friends. But look at it now, the paint stripping off, peeling, melting. It looked beautiful and shielded those underneath from the sun, the rain, and now, the hellfire. Look at it, the wood decaying and falling apart. By the time this is all over, it would be ruined, but would have saved so many lives. So what do they do with it?

They tear it down. They replace it. They forget about what protected them for thirty years and toss it aside because it's ruined.

But it doesn't know this. The gazebo, it has only showed kindness and compassion for its entire life, it gladly puts itself in harm's way thinking it would be appreciated. But what if it did know? That it was all a lie?

CRACK-CRACK-CRACK-CRACK!

It falls. It strikes its revenge with the last of its energy.

"…no."

CRASHH!

Oh, yes. Yes. It falls. It falls and crushes all underneath. Betrayal is wonderful. Isn't that right, David?

What… what is that now…? Shhh… listen….

"…D-Day…. David…."

…it seems to be the little girl crying for help. Better do something about that. That's what you're supposed to do, right David? Aren't you supposed to…. help?!

"REBECCA!"

Through the rain, shadows creep towards her. Fangs, claws, blades, beaks, horns… what are they, David? Do you know? Do you refuse to know? Oh, but they glow. Look how they glow with a horrid light. They surround her, they encroach her.

They will kill her.

Save her, David.

You promised. You promised you'd come back for her.

But I won't let you!

"What—Pandora!? Let me go—get back to shelter! LET ME GO!"

Go on. Flail. Claw at me. I am not going to let you… Oh. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, they are faster than I could ever dream. Shhh, David. Do you hear that? The beautiful sounds of slaughter. Listen. Do you hear the flesh ripping and teeth gnashing and the sweet cry of death? Ohhhhh-hahaha…. too late, Davey. Look. Too late for Becky. They feast on her now.

"…no… Rebecca…"

This is your fault, David.

You promised her, David, that you would never leave her, that you would protect her.

You promised her.

But you left her to die.

This is your fault.

You left her, and she died.

Just like you promised me you'll always be there, and then left the moment I needed you.

You left me, David.

"What—but—"

You left me.

You left me.

You left me.