Willkommen Zuhause
The suffocating cover of wet sand sealed her sight into darkness, the discomforting sting of grains rushing into her throat with each inhale unable to reconcile the endless crashing of the tides against her legs. Unable to control it, her lungs squeezed into a violent cough, the shiver enough to push aside the water that crept up to her face. The rest of her muscles weren't as keen on carrying out their normal functions, even as her consciousness attempted to conduct them into the chorus she'd mastered as an infant.
There were no songs to be played here.
A glimmer in the corner of her eyes forced them upwards out of instinct, and ragged, scarred legs planted themselves in the sand only a few feet from where she lay.
A sigh was all she managed.
"Have you come to kill me?"
Her lungs choked out another hoarse cough as water slithered into her nose. Never did she intend to give an answer to a question she had ignored so many times before. Death touched the eyes of all enemies she had been tasked to destroy, cleared from a board with the slide of plastic and the squeak of black ink. Her eyes had long blinded themselves since the golden spears warped themselves inward, retracting their sharp tips from her youthful stoicism as they dug themselves deep into the abdomen of the armored man whose fear could even be glimpsed through his opaque red visor. Even in death, she could still feel his thoughts like dandelion seeds dispersing themselves into the ether. His wife was there…or was it a husband? Perhaps a daughter or son? It had felt like regret he'd never see them again…or was it regret he'd never had them at all?
The human mind was not meant to be understood, and thus it was not meant to be interpreted by another…copied by another. The experiences of one could never be the experiences of another. There were too many variables. Too much entropy.
Too many ways to make mistakes.
She felt the cold metal against her soiled fingers, and the tears that dried up against her parched skin.
"Promises are difficult to keep, even to the ones you love most."
Her cough was less repulsive this time around.
"I've never loved anyone."
"Have you ever noticed that in a dream, you never find yourself at the beginning? You're always in the middle of a chase or a conversation. Hell, even sometimes you're taking blows from some random asshole you only saw for a moment on your way to school."
Emilee pressed her head against the cold glass of the window, her violet eyes fixed on the relentless roar of snow just beyond its protective seal. "Or answering a question resulting from a crazed muse your classmate wants to spread like a cancer."
The coo she received for her remark only soured her annoyed mood that much more. "That's not very nice Comrade Jiang."
"I've heard jumping out the window is nice this time of year," she suggested, curling into herself even more. "Like a brisk walk on a beachside."
"Kuso, Emi. What's the matter with you? I'm just as bored as you are."
Suzuya never knew when to shut her mouth, which was very useful when it came to drawing attention away from Emilee whenever she grew tired of her instructors' interrogating questions about her supposedly subpar work ethic. She worked plenty hard while she was in school but didn't find military hierarchy very interesting to practice memorizing. Service to the Nation was supposed to be the greatest honor one could take part in, but Emilee found it awfully dour and unfulfilling. Voicing those concerns became less desirable with a Falke unit looking down from atop her obscenely long legs, so Emilee had decided to keep them to herself, and use Suzuya's big mouth as a smokescreen whenever it became too unbearable to hide.
"Boredom is the enemy of hard work," Emilee recited.
"And hard work sets us free," Suzuya finished, with an over-the-top righteousness that drew a smile from her, even if she tried to force the muscles neutral.
So long as the Nation is allowed to decide our work.
"Speaking of which, you'd think by now they'd have cleared the rails," the woman droned on from the desk next to her, now stretching herself to a length that was clearly deliberate to drive the point home. "What time is it even?"
"Complaining won't make them move any faster," Emilee sighed with an obligatory, practiced tone. "She has the right idea."
Suzuya followed her gaze to another girl in the classroom, her form hunched over her desk with the clear submission of an exhausted body sound asleep.
Her companion gasped. "Aww. I've been too loud again, haven't I?"
"Yep."
Emilee made the mistake of thinking anything would change, only for another question to pierce her attempt at coping with her boredom.
"Isn't that the girl we always see with the…" Suzuya stopped herself, lowering her voice to the whisper. "Gaikokujin?"
"Hey, hey watch your mouth."
"S-sorry! I just…I don't know how else to—"
"Just don't then."
Thankfully, Suzuya finally shut her mouth and retreated to her own desk. Frankly, Emilee had no idea who she was talking about, but had heard that word thrown enough her way to not want to hear it from someone she could reason with.
You always fight for those you don't even know. That's the core tenant of a good soldier.
Emilee looked down at her blood soaked, dirt covered hands as she begged herself to make them stop shaking.
"I hate this," she trembled, not reacting to the shifting stride of the man looking down upon her paralyzed form. "I hate feeling this way."
"You should."
Wake up.
Emilee opened her eyes, only to feel the grip of two hands frantically shaking at her shoulder.
"Emi, wake up!" Suzuya begged, her expression distraught and helpless. "Please, I need your—"
"Relax Su, I'm awake," she shook her off, wiping away the residue from her eyes as they adjusted to the darker classroom. "How long have I—"
"You have to help! It's…" Suzuya trailed, eventually grinding her teeth together. "It's that girl!"
Emilee frowned. "What girl?"
Abruptly, Suzuya yanked at her arm strong enough to force her out of her chair and to her feet. "You have to help me!"
"Suzuya!" she protested, now being practically dragged out of the classroom and into the hallway. "What girl?!"
"Students!"
The sound of that voice stopped them both dead in their tracks, whatever frantic ravings that had claimed her friend lost in but an instant. Their backs straightened, legs turned, and the clicking of boots was the final vanguard of complete silence as they turned their full attention to the uniformed gestalt male of middle age and white stubble. His slow approach in the darkened hallway was measured and purposeful, but Emilee didn't dare let it unsettle her posture.
Suzuya wasn't so strong, drawing a longer stride and a cocked backhand.
"I was just scolding Comrade Hasegawa about her tardiness that occurred this morning. She is still—" The backhand crashed against her cheek instead, leaving a harsh, pulsing sting against her bones.
"It is clear you did not scold her lack of discipline, Comrade Jiang," he pressed without ever raising his voice to a yell. "Our institution does not permit frantic ravings and childish fretting, nor does it permit excuses for irregular behavior."
Suzuya bowed her head. "Of course, sir, my apologies. I will attend double periods for the rest of the month."
"Make that two, starting today."
Emilee bit her tongue hard enough to draw blood. Almost on cue, the instructor's earpiece emitted a three-toned beep. Silence followed as his attention was drawn elsewhere, and Emilee could catch Suzuya's gaze of confusion.
Can't break focus.
Milliseconds felt like days, but before long, the instructor turned away. "I-I…glory to the Nation."
Pounding her fist against her heart, Emilee raised it into the air, as did Suzuya. "Glory to the Nation!"
Once he was gone, Emilee let out an exhale she didn't realize she had held in.
"What luck," Suzuya gasped in awe.
"Yeah. Luck," Emilee remarked, and now faced her friend with an admonishing look. "Now…that girl?"
To her surprise, Suzuya shook her head in embarrassment. "F-forget about it. The rails are cleared. Let's just go home, please."
The muffled chime through the above intercom completed its tune, and the mechanical doors shut themselves to once again seal in the climate-controlled heat. The length of their travel had drawn Suzuya's posture deeper and deeper into the commuter train's seat, before the woman had entirely left the physical plane and entered the annuls of her dreams. Whatever nap Emilee had mustered earlier kept her eyes fixed open, aimlessly drifting them among the slowly emptying passenger car.
Next stop: New Dresden. This is the final stop before this train will change to the Vineta Line. Entering an unauthorized sector is strictly prohibited and could leave a Comrade liable.
As the train's electric engines revved up and Emilee felt herself sway with its acceleration, she knew it was time to wake Suzuya before their stop passed them by, but pain nipped at her tongue sharp enough to draw her attention. She tasted blood and felt its sticky heat against her finger as she inspected more closely.
"Fuck sake," she grumbled to herself in annoyance, sucking against the wound to clear it. What she did back in the hallway wasn't supposed to take such a toll, but whatever habit she had developed only seemed to be getting worse. Careful not to allow any droplets to soil her uniform, she wrested an already stained handkerchief from inside her suit pocket and aggressively peeled the quickly drying blood from her skin.
She was nearly flung from her seat as the train shifted harshly to its right, probably a missed patch of snow, but the shock was enough to force her to grab ahold of the central pole before her fate became less fortunate.
"Are you alright?"
Emilee nodded, pushing herself back against her seat. "Yes…thanks for—"
A brown-haired woman in full uniform was staring back at her with eyes intense enough to instill fear, yet with a solemn distance that felt too surreal to be physical. Their face was unfamiliar, but in the interwoven threads that Emilee could feel warping within the cosmic wind, she'd never felt more haunting emotion.
Someone let out an agonized shriek of anguish. Suzuya pushed her aside, pulling her attention away from the woman and to a young boy whose arm looked nauseatingly bent at an unnatural angle.
"Sh, sh, sh, you're okay," Suzuya soothed. "You're okay. You're okay."
By the time Emilee looked back again, the woman was gone.
Just as she should be.
Twelfth Avenue was the longest road in the New Dresden Prefecture, and it only seemed to grow each time Emilee had walked it alone in the waning hours of day. Of course, due to the events of this particular collection of hours, night had already conquered the skies, making her wish she had brought a jacket to keep her company. Suzuya had long abandoned her for the young boy's bedside, and while that betrayal had made the lonesome walk more uneasy, she couldn't hate her for it. She'd be remiss if not to allow the woman to be who she was and had always been.
Even if Rotfront's red eye was shining a little brighter today. Sometimes Emilee wished she could take a pin and pop the gas giant out of existence, that way she would no longer have to cope with the thought of its leering gaze upon her. The irony of the universe was however invincible to the insignificant creatures spawned of Vineta, even against someone like her.
The dense apartment block of Sixth Street served as a reminder that she was approaching her destination, and her delusions of sadistic grandeur faded into the ether. Disregarding the designated crosswalk, her targeted block was lonelier than usual, free of the bustle of comrades returning from work to execute their designated rest periods.
Attention! Final curfew in ten minutes! All comrades discovered afterwards will be marked as liable.
Free…except for one.
"You look like shit."
Trying to hide blood was an art Emilee had failed to perfect long ago, but she had become quite adept at recognizing the attempt when it passed her by.
"Hey," she prompted, grasping the shoulder of the uniformed, white-haired girl crossing her path. "Don't do that."
"Don't do what?"
Emilee pulled the blanket tighter around her small frame, feeling the cold close its grip around her body, mind and soul.
"Don't pretend to be me."
"I don't even know who you are."
"I don't even know what you are."
"Stop trying to be ME!"
The cold metal of a gun barrel kissed her forehead, and across from her was the synthetic skin of a replika LSTR unit bearing the expression of reminiscence and revenge.
Yet also nothing at all.
"She'd dead, you dogmatic freak," Emilee cursed, pressing her head against the barrel hard enough to cut in to her skin. "One day you're not going to wake up."
"It doesn't matter," the unit replied in the same empty monotone she'd heard thousands of times. "I have to wake up."
"You don't even know why," Emilee shivered, frustration and rage pulsing through every muscle in her body. "YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW WHY!"
Oblivion.
A three toned beep.
This call has been transferred to the automated voice message system.
Ariane Yeong.
Is not available. After the tone, please record your message. When you have finished your message, you may hang up or—
Beep. A long, static silence.
"Emilee…welcome home."