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Wasn’t being a magic boy supposed to be fun?
Nanao laughed shakily at the thought as he stared at the ceiling. His voice sounded unfamiliar, a raspy croak that echoed back at him but that was almost comforting in a way. It filled the silence. It distracted him from what was happening, just like his thoughts.
Fun? Since when was being one of Karls Knights ever fun? It was troublesome, tiresome and another ‘some’ word he couldn’t think of but never fun. It was an inconvenience in his otherwise entertaining school life. It wasn’t supposed to be life threatening or painful.
He laughed again as if it would make the situation feel like a joke. Less real. Less like he didn’t literally have concrete crushing his legs and a pipe skewered through his right arm. In retrospect, it didn’t hurt as much as it should have. Maybe it was because his Knight form was protecting him. Maybe it was because he was getting numb to the pain. Maybe it was because he was dying.
Dying alone.
The thought slammed into him harder than the building on top of him had. Nanao gasped, the reality of the situation hitting him. He tried to pull himself up into a sitting position but white-hot pain flashed through him, forcing him back down onto the ground. Hot tears began to blur his vision, but they weren’t from the pain. It was fear.
No, no, no. He couldn’t die here. He was young and there were so many things he wanted to do. He wanted to go to Europe. He wanted to fall in love. Damn it, he wanted to graduate from high school. High school! Why would he want to die here, carelessly crushed by a monster attack? He couldn’t die. He just had to hold on until the others came and dug him out of the rubble of the school building. Surely, they’d be here any moment now.
That was a thought that had come up countless of times already. A flame of hope that was being smothered out under the rock and grit. How much longer were they going to take? It had been hours already. Hours of agony, of writhing alone. He would have bled out by now if it wasn’t for the magic but how much longer would that last? Did he have hours? Minutes? Seconds?
They hadn’t forgotten about him, had they?
“Kids? Kids?” Nanao called out. His voice cracked with desperation… Or was it raw from screaming? He couldn’t tell. Fat, hot tears streamed down his face as Nanao felt something claw up from his throat. He tried to cough it out. The taste of salt and metal wouldn’t go away. “Kids?”
Nanao’s voice was swallowed up by the walls around him. He gave a choked, shuddering sob as his desperate cry for help was met with deafening silence. He was so tired. So, so very tired.
“Kids… Where are you…”
This wasn’t fun anymore.
Nanao laughed shakily at the thought. He laughed as tears poured from his eyes, making it look like there were faint streams of light coming from cracks in the dull, grey concrete. He laughed until his chest ached and then burned. He couldn’t hear anything over the loud buzzing in his ears. It was all he could do.