Chapter 12;   Our broken consteltions 3

  Silence enveloped the area, making the air thick and suffocating. The only sound was the carriage’s wheels rolling forward, the horse’s footsteps echoing against the hard ground.

  I couldn't tell if I had chosen the right words. Did I push them away?

  Did I make things distant?

  "You lost your memories, right?"

  The voice returned—this time, ced with enthusiasm.

  I hesitated.

  No, I hadn't lost my memories.

  I remembered everything, probably.

  Yet, something inside me kept me from speaking.

  A strange feeling of dread

  Telling me not to speak the truth.

  Miyuki had once told me—if you ever feel something strange gnawing at your instincts, sometimes, it’s better to listen.

  "I don't know. I woke up in a strange pce. Everything around me was dark. I was traveling and I fell. I don’t know how I’m alive, but when I opened my eyes… I was here."

  Not a complete lie. Not the complete truth either.

  My voice came out distant, quiet. There was a mencholic lilt to it—one I hadn’t intended but was simply… there. Hanging in the air between us, waiting to be swallowed by the dark.

  I could hear my heartbeat in my ears, an unsteady rhythm against the void. My breathing had slowed, but the uneasiness remained, creeping up my spine like cold fingers tracing my skin.

  I couldn't see anything.

  Even though I was awake, it felt like I was still drowning.

  The voice returned, cutting through the quiet.

  "Calm down. Where are we? Hmmm. I wonder that too… So, what’s your name? Mine is Uso Fukashigi."

  Uso Fukashigi.

  An odd name but nevertheless it's something I cannot judge.

  But that wasn’t what caught me off guard.

  It was the question before it.

  What’s your name?

  My name…?

  Who am I?

  My name is...

  "My name is… Ai… yumei."My name is... Natsumi... Tohka.

  I don’t know why I said that name.

  It wasn’t mine.

  And yet… it fit.

  The voice, now softer, almost amused, broke through once more.

  "Mmm… So, Ai Yumei, do you fear death?"

  Huh?

  That’s a strange question—one I somehow know the answer to, yet don’t.

  Death.

  A concept so simple yet infinitely complex, an inevitability that lingers in the back of every mind, whispering, waiting.

  It is nothingness, an abyss where one's existence is erased, where even the echoes of who they once were fade into silence. A pce where they are and are not, trapped in a paradox of being forgotten yet having once existed.

  But what follows after death?

  Is it reincarnation, a cycle doomed to repeat endlessly? A cruel joke where one is forced to live and die over and over, making the same mistakes, feeling the same pain, screaming for another chance, only to squander it again?

  Or is it becoming something else? A ghost, a wandering spirit, a fractured existence stuck between worlds?

  Or is it simply nothing? Eternal sleep, consciousness dissolving into the void, with no thoughts, no self, just silence stretching on forever?

  No matter the answer, death is painful.

  Not just the act of dying—the agony of a soul being ripped apart, the helpless realization that everything is slipping away, that no amount of pleading, no desperate struggle will change what is to come—but also the burden of living.

  To not die is a pain in itself.

  To watch everything around you crumble, your loved ones wither and disappear, the world move forward while you remain, unchanged, untouched by time but consumed by loneliness. Death is almost merciful.

  So do I fear death?

  "I" don't But I do.

  I feel my hands trembling, a dull ache creeping up my spine, a sense of unease settling in my chest. Is it fear? No, not quite. It’s something deeper. Something I can’t put into words.

  But being forgotten is painful.

  As I hadn't spoken in a while a chuckle was heard.

  "Pft. Don’t take that seriously."

  The voice cuts through the quiet, breaking the weight pressing down on me.

  "It was just a little joke to lighten the mood, you know?This is probably a sve trader’s carriage… You’re scared, aren’t you?You know, you moaned a lot in your sleep.It was like you were having a nightmare or a terrible memory...well whatever it is We’ll get out of this.Don’t worry, okay? It’s all going to be okay."

  A soothing voice, calm, steady. A voice meant to comfort.

  But…

  "Mmm."

  I gave a vague response and leaned back against the wooden surface.

  So, this is a sve carriage.

  But what does that mean?

  What are sves?

  I don’t know.

  It doesn’t matter. I’ll understand soon enough. Once the time comes.

  I try to move my hands. The restraints dig into my wrists, burning against my skin, but I still feel it—the rings on my fingers.

  They're still there.

  They didn’t take them.

  Why?

  Were they worthless? Did they look at them, inspect them, and decide they had no value? Or Did they never notice them at all?

  That doesn’t seem right.

  Something about it feels wrong.

  Why did I think of that..about death..it's like something inside of snaps once certain things are mentioned.Like a voice that isn’t mine begins to speak.

  Something is getting worse.

  I need to hurry.

  Ah...

  My throat is dry.

  I haven’t had water in...

  How long has it been?

  It feels like an eternity.

  And I’m hungry.

  I haven’t eaten since I left home.

  A dull ache gnaws at my stomach, curling in on itself like a starving animal.

  If Miyuki knew, he’d be furious.

  The thought almost makes me ugh.

  So I close my eyes.

  And let the weight of exhaustion pull me into sleep.

  I woke up the moment the carriage jolted to a halt. My body lurched forward before I was thrown out, weightless for a brief second before the ground smmed against me.

  A sharp, ringing pain burst through my skull. My vision blurred, the world spinning in a nauseating spiral.

  It hurts.

  It hurts.

  I want to cry, but the tears won’t come.

  Light poured in from the open door, piercing through the suffocating darkness. A shadow blocked it, tall and imposing. Heavy footsteps approached. A hand grabbed the front of my tattered clothes and wrenched me upward.

  Am I being saved?

  That thought barely had time to form before I was thrown.

  The world twisted. The air pressed against me as everything slowed to an unbearable crawl.

  Fragments of memories I can’t quite grasp slipping through my fingers like sand.

  Ah… is this what Miyuki meant by life fshing before your eyes?

  Before I could fully comprehend it, the ground rushed to meet me again. My body crashed down, my tailbone smming against something solid, harder than stone. A cold sensation spread through me as if my bones had cracked open to let the chill seep in.

  The impact left me dazed, but before I could even attempt to breathe, two more bodies were thrown out after me. One nded on top of me, knocking the remaining air from my lungs.

  They scrambled off, coughing, limbs shaking as they tried to move.

  The figure in the doorway stepped out, fully illuminated by the flickering torchlight. A man, golden hair slicked back, a thick leather jacket wrapped around his towering frame. A jagged scar marred his left eye, and his irises—red like fresh blood—gleamed with something cold.

  Looking at his eyes instantly told me that he would not hesitate to kill us right on the spot if we tried to do something.

  One of the two who had been thrown out was a girl which was small and Fragile.

  Her body was covered in bruises, her skirt torn apart, her body having barely having clothing which covered her.

  I suppose she was the one they threw in earlier.

  She staggered forward, every movement shaky and uncoordinated, as if her own limbs were foreign to her.

  Everything would go well and all if we tried to do nothing we wouldn't die but she decided to run Stumbling over herself, legs nearly giving out beneath her.

  I didn’t know why I watched.

  Why I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the sight.

  She reached a far enough, he was already there.

  One moment, he was beside us, and the next, he stood in front of her, as if he had always been there.

  His hand reached out and mercilessly Gripped her face.

  She screamed on top her lungs, as the man began adding force to his grip.

  She cwed at his fingers, nails breaking against his skin.

  Her body thrashed, legs kicking against the dirt, fighting, resisting.

  Tears coming out of her eyes, as her eyes became more lifeless by each passing second.

  But his grip never wavered.

  Her screams fractured, each one more broken than the st, until suddenly, there was nothing. No voice. No breath. Just the sickening silence of a body still moving—twitching, convulsing—before finally going limp.

  Until she could scream no more, the man exerted force with his hand, gripping harder until her head exploded from the pressure.

  Blood and flesh scattered everywhere.

  Something warm and thick dripped down my cheek.

  The iron scent of blood flooded my senses.

  I lifted my hand and touched my cheek and put my hand infront of eyes to see something red on it...

  It couldn't be...

  No.. But she.... She...she.. Died...

  For a moment, my mind was bnk.

  Ah…

  My stomach twisted. A deep, gut-wrenching churn that sent bile rising to my throat. My chest felt tight, something cwing at my ribs, constricting, suffocating.

  I stumbled back and fell on the ground.

  I wanted to throw up.

  I almost did.

  But I forced it back down.

  Swallowed the nausea, the fear, the horror threatening to consume me.

  I bit down my lips hard enough to make them bleed as I stood up again.

  The man, before I even noticed, was already next to me.

  His presence loomed, suffocating. Without acknowledging me, he turned and walked forward, his heavy footsteps echoing in the silence

  I exhaled shakily, my mind still bnk.

  I turned my gaze toward the one next to me.

  A boy, taller than me, maybe older. His bck hair hung in loose strands, almost covering his eyes, which were a striking shade of deep obsidian with streaks of iridescent violet threading through them, shifting under the dim light like liquid night. His face was decently handsome, but there was something hollow about it—like a painting faded over time, the colors drained, leaving behind a ghost of what once was.

  He was wearing a rough, tattered linen tunic, the once-white fabric stained with dirt and dried blood. His pants were just as worn, frayed at the edges, barely holding together. The kind of clothing worn by a poor vilger, someone who had known nothing but struggle, someone whose existence was defined by hardship.

  I suppose he was Fukashigi.

  He stood still, unfazed. His expression was unreadable, his body nguage devoid of tension or resistance.

  Lifeless eyes.

  But when he looked at me, something in them flickered.

  His pupils dited as if recognizing something in me that I didn’t understand myself.

  Before I could react, he stepped forward and pulled me into a hug.

  It was unexpected.

  His body was warm. The warmth of another human being, something I hadn’t felt in what seemed like forever.

  A fleeting moment of soce, a reminder that we were still alive, still breathing, even in this nightmare.

  But just as quickly, he let go.

  He pulled away and walked forward.

  He knew.

  Disobedience meant death.

  Is that what he meant earlier?

  I followed behind, the ground beneath my feet uneven and rough. When I turned around briefly, I saw the broken stone path stretching behind us, leading back toward the carriage. The forest loomed in the distance, its trees withered and lifeless, as if drained of color, standing like shadows against the gray sky.

  The sky was grim, overcast with thick, unmoving clouds.

  It felt like it should be raining, but it wasn’t.

  It felt like it should be cold, but the air was suffocatingly warm.

  The town before us was eerily quiet.

  Our hands were suddenly bound by something invisible.

  I could feel it—something translucent and unyielding, wrapping tightly around my wrists, forcing them together. The sensation was unsettling, weightless yet firm, like shackles made of air.

  We followed him.

  The streets were nearly empty, devoid of life, with barely anyone outside.

  The few outside didn’t look at us.

  They averted their gazes, their eyes hollow, their faces pale. Those who did gnce in our direction quickly looked away, their expressions bnk.

  I walked through there were a ill smell coming from somewhere.

  I didn’t know why, but an unfamiliar emotion surfaced within me.

  A strange, inexplicable disgust toward them.

  Why?

  I shouldn’t feel this way.

  I don’t even know them.

  Judging someone without understanding them is wrong.

  But...

  This feeling.. I swallowed it down, trying to suppress it and not showing it.

  Beside me, I noticed Fukashigi’s hands trembling ever so slightly.

  His complexion pale.

  We continued forward.

  Another man appeared.

  He was slender, with sharp features, his yellow hair streaked with strands of deep red. His eyes—an unnatural blend of orange and gold—held something unsettling in their depths. His face was not extraordinary, not remarkable in any way, yet there was something about him that sent a chill down my spine.

  He was tall, pale, his presence almost blending into the suffocating atmosphere of the town.

  The bck-haired man spoke to him.

  A quiet conversation, hushed but urgent.

  The yellow-haired man frowned, his expression troubled. He turned his gaze toward us, cold, empty.

  Something passed between them.

  After a while, my vision blurred.

  A wave of nausea washed over me, pulling me into a deep, suffocating abyss.

  I could feel myself slipping.

  Soon we lost consciousness and when I woke up I found myself in a dark and empty room.

  ****

  Author's Note:I will write after I read some manga.