Chapter Text
“Here should be alright… I guess…” mutters Nier to himself. He’s standing in the backyard of his deserted house, beneath a leafless sycamore tree. In one hand, he holds a shovel, and in the other, his mother’s chlorinated remains.
He puts the plastic bag down on the ground, the gentleness of his motions the only indication that something — someone — precious rests inside. Still, he recognizes the wrongness of the situation. His mother shouldn’t have been reduced to ashes in a mockery of cremation. She shouldn’t have died at all. She should have been here, keeping him and Yonah safe.
I hate the word ‘should’, he thinks bitterly, stabbing the shovel into the ground. With the sole of his boot, he stomps on it, grunting as he removes a chunk of dirt.
“Brother,” says Yonah hesitantly. She followed him outside, even though he’d told her to stay inside. “Where’s mom? I can’t find her.”
He stiffens, his back going rigid. He doesn’t turn to her, but he stops digging. “Mom… mom’s gone away for a bit.”
“Mm? When’s she coming back?”
“We'll just have to wait and see,” he mumbles, his white hair falling onto his face to obscure his eyes. He brushes it away with his forearm, sniffling from the cold, and continues to dig.
“Okay,” says Yonah sweetly, as if his vague words were more than enough to assuage her fears. “Hey, what are you burying?”
His heart burns and his throat stings. “… Trash,” he manages with some effort. “Just some trash, is all.”
“Ah…”
Swaying on her feet like a brittle leaf, she waits silently under the heatless sun. She sniffles periodically, her breath condensing in great, white puffs.
A harsh gust of wind passes by, and she gulps for air when the force of it suffocates her. Nier whips his head in her direction, alarmed, and he frowns in worry.
“Yonah, why don’t you go back inside and wait for me there? I won’t be long, I promise,” he says.
She nods, protecting her face in the crook of her elbow. But she approaches him first, kneeling down to place something by his feet. “I brought you the radio so you can listen to the news.” Listening to the news is all he’s been doing lately.
“Thanks, Yonah. Can you turn it on for me?”
She presses a button and cranks up the volume.
“I'll go inside now!” she says, turning on her heel and rushing back to the house.
“Keep warm, alright?” he calls after her.
“Alright!” she calls back.
Once he’s alone, he drops the act and allows his face to scrunch up with all the emotions he’s been bottling inside. His lips tremble, his eyes misting with acidic tears, and he swallows the lump that forms in his throat again and again.
Grief is a tidal wave, licking at his nostrils at times and flooding his lungs at others. It doesn’t stop. It doesn’t go away. He knows that if he gives in to it, he will die. But he can’t afford to do that. There’s no time or place for something so selfish.
“I have to keep it together,” he mumbles to himself, tasting salt when his tears reach his lips. He digs with renewed vigor. “I have to keep it together… have to keep Yonah safe…”
Still, a stray sob escapes him when he lowers the plastic bag into the ground. Nothing could be less poetic.
“Rest easy, mom…” he whispers wetly.
Now he handles the shovel with more care, letting the dirt fall onto his mother in gentle cascades.
Desperate for a distraction, he turns his attention to the news.
The broadcaster speaks with a synthetic cheer that has nothing to do with the nature of his words.
“… will likely be difficult until its completion. And up next, the Legion Report: Concerns are being raised surrounding cutbacks to an already increased budget.”
A beep goes off.
The new voice sounds appropriately somber.
“While Legion may already be gone, our battle with them and its resulting costs have become the country’s newest issue to grapple with. In response to the potential cutbacks, the Ministry of Defense has announced they will be submitting their decision during this current Diet session. However, there is no intention of making the contents of this decision public. As such, it remains uncertain whether or not tomorrow’s special Diet session will settle the discussion.”
The beep goes off again, and the cheery voice returns.
“Up next, today’s weather! Here’s your host, Ms. Saitou!”
Ms. Saitou begins her report with a tone that is equally cheerful. “Thank you, Mr. Akai! Today’s another cold one, isn’t it? With all these strong, dry winds, I’m sure many of you are worried that your laundry might get ruined by all the salt getting whipped up into the air! Not only that, but the next hour will bring torrents of rain for the residents of Shinjuku, so if you still haven’t — ”
Abandoning his shovel, Nier looks at his sad attempt at a grave. There’s no headstone; nothing to show that there’s a human beneath the soil.
He takes out a wilted flower from his pocket. It’s missing some petals, but it’s all he has. He puts it atop the grave, placing a small rock on its stem to secure it to its place.
His voice is barely audible when he speaks. “I wish I could give you a warmer place to rest but… I can’t really dig any deeper than this…” He closes his eyes, his neck craning downwards. His tears mix with his words. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry, Mom…”
The rock trembles and topples over under the wind. The flower is sent flying away.
Nier is roused from his mourning. His eyes widen, and he whispers a desolate, “No,” chasing after the flower with his arm stretched to its limit. He jumps in an effort to catch it, but it has risen too high, and soon, it’s out of sight.
“No…”
He throws his head back, eyes clenched shut, tears streaming freely.
A small hand curls around his own, making him gasp in surprise.
At the sight of his sister’s large, worried eyes, he forgets all of his troubles.
“Yonah,” he lets out.
“Brother, why are you crying?” she says sadly.
“I—It’s nothing,” he says, wiping his face with his sleeve. He crouches to his knees and zips her jacket all the way up. “Why do you keep leaving the house, Yonah? You’ll catch a cold like this.”
“I don’t like being away from you…”
His face softens and he sighs, letting his arms drop.
Yonah wipes away the remnants of his tears with her hands and says, “It's going to be okay…”
Nier looks at his sister’s face, silent. His eyes are much older than he is.
“Just don’t be sad,” she says, wiping away a fresh tear with her thumb. “Please? I don’t like it when you’re sad…”
He does his best to smile. “I'm okay, Yonah. Really. You don’t have to worry about me.”
“Then why were you crying?”
“I'm just a bit tired. But the feelings came and went, and I’m all better now.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
She nods and gives him a firm hug, her arms tight around his neck. He hugs her back, drawing solace from her unsuspecting gesture. In his arms, he feels her small body quaking in its attempt to hide her shivers. When she suppresses a cough, he lets go of her.
“Yonah? You okay? Are you cold?” he says.
“A little,” she admits.
He stands on his feet and takes her hand. “Let's go back to the shelter. Maybe there’s food…”
Yonah takes the radio and hugs it to her chest.
As they’re walking, an announcement resounds. The monotonous voice is loud enough to silence all human activity in the vicinity. It’s not coming from the radio. It’s coming from large screen displays that are scattered throughout the city.
“Today’s threat level announcement: In the areas of Shinjuku, Shibuya, Nakano and Setagaya, we are officially at Level 2: a preliminary caution alert. Unless it is absolutely necessary, please avoid leaving your homes.”
Nier stops dead in his tracks.
“Brother?” says Yonah.
His heart is pounding. He feels lightheaded. “What do they mean?” he whispers to himself. “Legion is gone.”
“I repeat. Today’s threat level announcement —”
Nier swallows the bile in his throat.
“Let's go, Yonah.”
He widens his steps as he begins to stride, keeping a tight grip on his sister’s hand. To the best of her abilities, Yonah tries to match his pace.
Nier knows that their struggles have only just begun.
But they will make it out alive.
They have to.