Abigail Fredrickson

Rowan

I look at the sky visible through the leaves, only to see a noticeable cloud of smoke curling up and away.  It’s weak, meaning the fire is probably still not going, but it’s huge.  And that sends a pang of terror into my chest.  I break into a sprint through the trees, forgetting about Tigress, my heart pounding as I internally pray, Please still be there please still be there please still-

I break through the trees and skid to a halt, breathing heavily.  The heavy cloud of smoke hanging over the space makes my eyes water so I can’t see at first.  I breathe in the sharp scent as I forcefully blink, trying to clear my vision.  Finally it clears enough that I can see what’s in front of me.

Every building is gone, burned to ashes.  Only a few beams still stick up in the air, blackened by the fire and smoke, which hangs thickly in the air.  No.  Heart racing, I numbly run towards the place I used to call home to see it in the same state, nothing but charred beams and piles of ash.  No…nonononono.

I cough, waving the smoke away and walking into the ruins, “Sophie!  Mami!  Papi!”  I break off with another cough.  No answer comes back to me.  I make my way through the burned down house until a tiny flash of color catches my eye.  I push the charred beam away and catch my breath as my eyes fill again, but this time not from smoke.

I lift the little soot-covered doll gently, “Sophie…”

I raise my head and look around again, Where could they be?  The ruined village gives away nothing.  I clench my fist, then unclench it, my emotions warring between fury at Saber and grief for…everything.  Grief wins out.

I don’t grow aware of her presence till Tigress speaks behind me, “We should leave here.  We don’t know if they’ll come back.”

I simply nod silently, subconsciously knowing what she’s saying is right, but partially wanting to stay.  When she walks past me, I force myself to focus and follow her out of the ruined village.  She doesn’t stop when we reach the edge, continuing into the forest, but I look back and finally let a tear spill out and roll down my cheek.  This place was my home.  I can hardly believe I’m just leaving again after just coming back…and because of this.

I close my eyes, then turn away and keep walking.

Tigress

I don’t stop walking until I can’t smell smoke anymore, which is probably a safe enough distance.

Rowan slumps against a tree and sits down, closing his eyes.  I sit nearby, glancing at him out of the corner of my eye.  He looks at the doll he unconsciously brought with.  It hadn’t taken me much thought to guess whose it was, and I’d had to press down the pang of sympathy in my chest in favor of getting both of us out of there before one of us died of smoke inhalation or the samurai returned to make sure their job was completely done.

Part of me starts to point out I can relate to how he’s feeling, but then I argue that at least my family was alright minus the wiped memories of me, which they were probably better off without.  He doesn’t even know what happened to them, if they’re okay, or even if they’re alive.

They aren’t.  He didn’t see what I did.  It was probably a good thing, and it’s why I led him away before he could stumble across it.

The line of bodies, shot through with arrows and crossbow bolts.  Young and old alike.  Men and women.  All gone.

I don’t know what had happened to warrant it.  I may never know.  But it’s done now, and there wasn’t a soul left stirring who we could save if we wanted to.

“I need-I need t-” he swallows, struggling.  “If there’s anyone-”

I grab his shoulder firmly, making him look at me, “They’re gone.”

“You don’t-”

“I do.”

He falls silent, eyes boring into mine.  Whatever he sees in my face causes him to swallow thickly and bow his head, covering his eyes with his hand.  His shoulders start to shake.  He’s not actually crying, it’s more from repressed sobs than anything else, but something inside my already completely shattered heart breaks further.  Even if he is ridiculously annoying, no one deserves this.  No one.

I turn away, trying to block my mind to him.  But no matter how hard I try to remind myself to keep my distance, to not feel…I know he’s hurting, and I know what it’s like to hurt.

I look back.  He’s silently crying now, still trembling slightly, like a leaf in the wind.  I start to reach out, then hesitate.  I bite my lip and force myself to put my hand on his shoulder…but then I can’t.  My hand hovers over his shoulder for a moment before I pull it back, crossing my arms over my chest and tucking my hands between my arm and side.  Keep your distance, Tigress.  He’s just another random person.  Don’t care.  Don’t feel.  It never paves the way for anything except more hurt and more trouble.  You know that.

Even so, with me repeating the internal warnings over and over again until they’ve been ingrained in my mind…each quiet shudder that goes through Rowan sends a pang of regret into my heart.

It finally reaches the point that I can’t take it any longer and find I’m speaking before I can stop myself.  Although, my tone is completely void of emotion, so there’s that at least.  “I am sorry for your loss.”

Rowan stills and raises his head to look at me.  The startled flicker in his eyes betrays that he sincerely hadn’t expected me to offer any sort of comfort.  I shove away the guilt that the look makes pool in my stomach, focusing on returning his gaze as blankly as possible.

After what feels painfully like hours, Rowan dips his head in a tiny nod.  I return it, Thank the sky he can finally speak my language, then turn my face away.  After all, it’s better to never become attached.

As soon as I can think of a sufficient reason to leave, I will, but something keeps me from leaving just yet.  I don’t dwell on the why and move on to other thoughts.  None of them are cheerful, but I’d rather that than…whatever the other thought is.

Rowan

I don’t remember when I fell asleep, but I suddenly jerk awake.  My first thought is Why am I lying on the ground under the trees?  Then I remember yesterday.  My second thought briefly shoves that out of the way to panic about having just left Tigress to watch all night because apparently she didn’t wake me up.  Third, I realize she’s not here.  And that feeds the panic.  I abruptly sit up, and my head instantly starts swimming.  Ouch.  I have to lean back until it reorients itself and agrees to get up.  Then I properly sit up and start to stand when a leaf rustles, and Tigress walks into view.  Oh phew…

Suddenly I realize she’s carrying a rabbit.  A dead one.

I give her a questioning glance.

She meets my eye briefly before averting her gaze and shrugging, “We don’t have food.  So I hunted down some.”  Oh.  Makes sense.  I nod.

Standing, I look at the rabbit, “Um, how do we cook it?”

“Leave it to me,” she waves it off, “I may not have done it in a while, but I did learn how to in Contra.  Part of samurai training.  Just look for some dry wood while I skin this thing.”

I nod, grateful for something to do that can keep my mind off things for a short while, and also grateful that it wasn’t having to watch her skin the rabbit.  So I wander a short way away from the spot in search of dry wood, careful not to get too far away.  I manage to find a fair enough amount and carry the small pile back to Tigress.  She’s just finished skinning and quartering it.  She works fast.

Tigress removes her claw attachment things and wipes her hands on her pants, smearing blood on the black fabric.  Then, her hands relatively cleaner than they were before, she slides a bit of dry bark with some wood left on it under the pile of sticks, takes one, places it firmly on the dry wood, and starts rapidly turning it between her palms.  At first I don’t see anything, then a wisp of smoke appears, then a tiny flame.  Tigress puts the stick down and carefully blows on it, fanning the flame into a bigger fire that begins to catch on to the other sticks.

She puts some dry leaves on it to hurry up the process, then picks up three sturdy cut saplings she must’ve found while hunting.  Two are forked on one side.  She picks up one of her claws and puts it back on, wiping some of the blood off it in the process, and starts sharpening the other ends of the forked saplings, and both ends of the straight one.  Once they’ve been thoroughly sharpened, she sticks the forked ones firmly into the ground on either side of the small campfire, then she takes the rabbit meat and pushes it onto the straight sapling.  Finally, she puts the meat and sapling on top of the two forked sticks over the fire.

“How long will it take to cook?” I ask hesitantly.

“A while,” she shrugs loosely, eyes trained on it.  Does she ever blink?  Okay, that was a dumb question.  I’ve seen her blink.  Buuuuut sometimes it seems like she blinks an abnormal amount.  Or rather, doesn’t blink an abnormal amount.

I let my eyes wander to the fire.  It dances and flickers with a joyful, and simultaneously hungry glow, reaching for the sapling above it, but not quite touching.  A little of the smoke curls upward, but not enough to reach above the trees.  Tigress turns the sapling so the other side of the rabbit can start cooking.

I find myself slipping into memories I didn’t mean to recall right now.  Distant laughter and excited, joyful shrieks dance around in my mind, accompanied by the remembrance of soothing touches, firm voices, a steady hand guiding mine.  A little baby reaching out with one tiny hand, eyes wide with wonder.  A mother’s hand gave her a little doll, which was quickly hugged to her chest.  A little girl tugging at my shirt, ‘Come play with me!’  Races through the woods with other boys, nights spent by the fire as parents and grandparents told stories of the days before Saber Demien came into power.

I don’t register the dampness on my cheeks until Tigress moves, bringing me back to the present.

I wipe the tears away as she takes the spit off the fire and slides a piece of rabbit off, handing it out to me silently.  I take it, “Thanks.”  She simply nods and slides the other half of the rabbit off the spit.  We eat in silence.  It’s not much, but better than nothing.

Tigress finishes first and begins tossing dirt on the fire.  It’s eventually out, but then she breaks up the charred remains of the sticks into dust.  The sticks still intact she throws away, then she mixes the ashes in with the soil and pats it down so it looks as though it was never disturbed.  Last, she covers the bare patch of ground with leaves, scattering a few around the area to make it look natural.

I’d long finished by then, so she looks at me, “We should look for a town.  We could use some supplies.”

“There’s one east of here,” I tell her, “closer to the forest’s end.”

“Then we go there,” she picks up the knapsack and ties it to her belt this time, “How far is it?”

I wince, “Couple days.”

“Better than nothing,” she figures, shrugging, “Come on then.  We’ve wasted some good daylight waiting for the rabbit to cook.”

“Alright,” I stand up.

“Lead the way,” she gestures in front of her.  It takes me off guard for a second before I recall she’s probably never been to Nozomi.

“Okay,” I breathe in and start off, looking around until I recognize the place we’re in and can lead us right.  On the bright side, it gives me something to think about other than what happened yesterday, which I really need right now.