---------------- When I came to, I was in a freezing field.
I guess the island had been finally swallowed by the blizzard. I could not see anything but white in every direction my eyes turned to. It was as if the snow had blinded me, once and for all. The familiar city had been swept away completely, leaving nothing but a husk of truth behind for us two. Serene, morbid silence that held no peace for anyone listening; just echoes of thousands and thousands of people killed, screaming out their justified anger.
---------------- But that didn’t last long either.
The screams would die by the time sun would rise again. As long as it would take, there would be an end to their torment. Still, as long as the cursed, pale moon watched us from the thick, black sky, dotted by stars, we were cursed to wait in this hell that I had once called home.
… I would have been lying if I didn’t feel it to be oddly exhilarating. To be the only living thing still retaining its form, its mind, its soul… it was almost as if I had been chosen. Of course, fate had nothing to do with this. The outcome of this event was decided by our wits alone. Therefore, despite feeling like I was the prophesied victory… I was naught but the humiliated loser.
The fact that I was still alive was mere mockery on his part.
There was no mercy to be found in this snowy wasteland. Emotions as feeble as that had no place in here. As I crawled across the white banks, leaving behind a red trail like stroke of a brush on a canvas, I came to understand it very clearly: everything was over. There would be no more bloodshed, apart from my own fatal wounds. Pain was irrelevant, too, as it simply made me lose focus from my actual goal.
Over and above everything else, I simply wanted to live for a while longer. Just minute more, just a second more, to gaze at this desolate landscape that we had brought upon this world.
But hope had died along with the island.
These were my very last moments, few rebellious breaths before the embrace of awaiting darkness took over me. I knew it just by looking around, etching the landscape of devastation into my mind. The pure white hell, the absolute oblivion that patiently waited for me.
Eventuality came as promised. My strength left me, and thus I slumped against the cold ground. The wounds I had suffered had already killed me, and I had already lost too much blood. With meager smile, I turned around to gaze at the moon and stars above.
The storm had died out. That was the only relief given to me.
Black clouds, like burnt snow, travelled across the sky, as if to block the great observer that judged this last bout of ours.
“It’s over, Iota. You’ve lost this time.”
I hear his voice. He announces his victory just like that, without any fanfare or gloating. Had he grown tired of it all in the end? Had he became bored despite my best efforts? Had he found no joy in this game we played? Or, perhaps…
… Did his blackened heart feel a tinge of sympathy for this poor loser?
A blade cuts the air, and strikes deep into my heart. I hear a squelching sound my red center is pierced. It was a move devoid of anything unnecessary. There was simply the elegance of killing, the art that mankind had yet to truly master. Being killed in such a way… even I could not find anything to complain about it. Thus, I offered my last smile before the world around me faded away.
And so, the game draws to a conclusion. Black Queen checkmates the White King, and the curtain falls. My heart was dead long before my body was.
There was nothing simple in this story.
And yet it keeps happening.
Because it is an endless loop.
I remember them all. How could I forget even after all these years? The stars that dot the sky, and the patterns they create. Watching them, always so far away from me, out of my hands reach… they were my guardians even if we were forever apart. It was a distance that could not be crossed with something as meager as my feet. Therefore, I had to imagine, and I had to make that imagination come true.
Inside my mind, I can still see the patterns I created to fill those lonely days.
The brave sisters. The protective brother. The old teacher. The young student. The listening ear and the comforting hand. Mother’s warmth and father’s guidance. A promise of first love.
It was all that I had, and it was everything I ever needed. Inside my own head, I created a family to love me, and one to love back. Here, under the snow, in the white mansion with nothing but a room and a bed, no boundaries existed. I could create everything with my own imagination. It was a perfect world made true only with simplest of wishes.
---------------- I was happy.
Of course, all things have an end. So did my perfect little world. There were no places to hide from the reality outside that white mansion where I had hidden myself. Years went by so fast that I could not even begin to count them. I learned again of the painful things that fill this world… yet I also learned of the things that make one smile.
I wanted to smile more than anything.
Yet through every moment of joy, every moment of hardship, I kept those stars and their patterns hidden away in my heart. They were there, safely locked with a golden key; something I could always return to whenever reality seemed too much to bear. It was the family that was waiting for me with open arms, despite the things that I had done. Unconditional love was no flight of fancy or a mere fantasy as long as it existed solely within the realms of my mind.
… Sound paradoxical, does it not?
Yes. It was a paradox I could not escape forever. The whiteness was eventually stained by black. A song in my head that would not go away, no matter how hard I tried. It was a call to face the reality before me, and the responsibility of things I had done to get there.
It was the song taught to be by that man, and for that, I will forever curse his name.
It is the song that denies all that the child in me wished for.
In other words…
… It is the song that denies my self.
Location: HAL Flight 29
Phase: Day 2/3
Time: 14:02
Day: January 12th
Average Temperature: -26 C
Weather: Partly Cloudy
"This is Captain Motohara speaking. We have now entered the air-space of Tengetsu island, and we are preparing for the landing shortly."
The announcement came from the crackling speakers of the phone, reaching both ends of the plane with dubious certainty. Still, those who heard the muffled announcement began slowly putting their trays up and zipping up their bags. The hustle and bustle started spreading throughout the plane’s interiors like wildfire, and soon there was no passenger who would not have gotten the message.
And indeed, if one looked out from the window, one could see their destination already.
There, far below the Hokkaido Airlines plane that currently soared through the sky, was the island of Tengetsu. Perhaps the most northernmost inhabited area belonging to Japan, though only for 40 years or so. Before that, it had been owned by Germany. Nowadays, it had become something of a shining beacon of hope when it came to modernization of rural areas of Japan.
Still, not everyone was happy about it. Many were the voices who called for restoration of old values and ways that the island had upheld before the war. Add into that a considerable foreign population still living on the island, and you got yourself a powder-keg of freezing temperatures. Especially now, during the winter, as the Great Blizzard approached the island, drawing in even more tourists from across the globe.
Yes, the “Great Blizzard”, which had made into the headlines of a local newspaper. It was an annual event that happened every year during January. For the duration of three or four weeks the island was almost completely cut off from the rest of the world by a violent sea wind that brought in a blizzard from the snowy wastes of Siberia. While it had been a test for the locals in ancient times when food was scarce, now it was simply a display of nature’s ruthless grandeur. Just like the island, the Great Blizzard had to learn to adapt to these changing times. Still, it did mean that no planes could land on the island during this time, and even ships were advised not to test their luck. Having had enough experience with the phenomena during the centuries, the islanders knew how to prepare for it.
Still, things were not completely flawless. Just below the article about the blizzard one could see something that would have definitely scared away a couple of tourists. Apparently, a foreign clergyman had been murdered few days ago, and because of that, the local members of Church were furious like ants of an attacked nest. A group of pissed-off priests did not really please local believers of Shinto, and thus, one could only imagine the tension brewing in the air. But for a hapless tourist who did not bother reading anything but the front-page, such things were inconsequential.
… Of course, anyone who had come to Tengetsu in other business might find this alarming.
Still, the weather looked gorgeous, and judging by the lights that lit up above everyone’s heads, along with the tugging feeling in their stomachs, the plane had begun its descend. It would not be long now before they touched down on the airport.
Location: Sayoshigure High School – Class 2-B
Phase: Day 2/3
Time: 14:02
Day: January 12th
Average Temperature: -26 C
Weather: Partly Cloudy
“Okay, everyone! Quiet down!”
The strict voice of Miss Fukui was enough to momentarily quiet down the murmur that had spread throughout the classroom. Students of class 2-B had been waiting for this moment most of the day, their curious eyes occasionally shooting glances towards the door, which was slightly ajar. It only took Miss Fukui one annoyed grunt and narrowing of eyes to snap the students into attention once more.
Once the classroom was deathly quiet, the black-haired teacher adjusted her glasses and put the file in her hands to the table in front of her. She looked over the classroom, all 26 students in it, and started speaking with somewhat warmer voice.
“I know you have been restless because of this, but I still expect you to remember your manners. Remember that first impressions are everything,” Miss Fukui said. “Having said that, I think there is someone out there who is ready to make his first impression on us.”
Upon hearing the term “him” used, some of the boys in the class groaned audibly. This was quickly silenced by glare from the bespectacled teacher. Having regained the control of the room once more, Miss Fukui turned towards the door with a slight smile, nodding to the shadow waiting on the other side.
“You may enter, Kirisaki-kun.”
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Originally Posted by Captain Motohara
