Chapter Text
Sashino, Saga
1005
I am going to die here.
I am going to die without ever having lived.
Everything spins and everything distorts and the sky is dark and everything is wrong and I want to go home.
Do I even have a home?
They retrieve me from the water, but my lungs feel as if they are still resting in the bottom of the pool.
Words echo in my head, but not really because the only thing that really echoes in my head is the chanting of an angry crowd.
And they are chanting for death.
It is not a fair trade, at least in my eyes.
I have lived but never loved in this village without disrupting anyone.
I have watched but never learned in our town without causing harm.
They stab at my body, checking for any sign that I do not bleed and therefore have so-called "magic" flowing through my veins.
So, then, why would fingers be pointed and why would they want me burned for witchcraft I have never done?
Ropes bind my wrists to wood, cutting off the circulation.
Does anyone here have a reason to kill a girl they never knew?
They don't even know my name.
I can't remember the last time someone called me "Tsukiyo."
The small, empty life I have led will never have a chance to change because it is about to end.
Fire.
A sea not of water, but of angry and triumphant faces flashes at me from every side.
I gird myself for the pain.
The world begins to go not dark and black but red and vibrant, somehow.
They yell louder.
Flames reach for my tied ankles, hungry for flesh.
The pain begins to turn to numbness.
The red is dimming.
The cries grow stronger.
Then, my last fleeting thought settles deep in my skull.
I am going to die here.
My body goes limp.
San Fransisco, California
1979
I'm mad.
Mad at the police.
Mad at society.
Mad at myself.
I knew being a queer person in the place and time I am would be difficult. It was better than living with my parents, who felt sad for me. Like I was some sort of mental case. It was all so unfair. It's still unfair.
The first time I ever encountered the police was when I was... meeting with a girl in an alley. We got busted by a police officer, who started yelling slurs at us followed by threats.
The officer's words tasted like dirt in my mouth. There were tears running down my cheeks and I couldn't do anything to stop them. My chest had collapsed and my mind had been replaced with rocks, burning and weighing me down.
I wanted to curl up and hide, not run out into the streets, hair disheveled and clothes half on.
I just had to deal with it.
I found safety in numbers and community. It was my own world, where I could laugh and dress and act the way I wanted to.
Standing here, in this sea of shouting and banging, I feel like I'm made of fire. Like I have power, and can yell as much as I want without restraint.
Maybe, one day I can live in a world where being I could be happy.
Maybe, one day I could have the power to be who I want to be.
I could scream who I want to be.
I can hear those around me screaming right now.
It only takes a moment, though, to realize these screams are not ones of anger and rebellion.
In this moment, I can feel my life being crushed. That familiar pain in my chest, more intense than ever.
Wait.
“Chiyo? Oh, shit. CHIYO!” Hands grip my shoulders, dragging me.
My head is spinning. What was going on? Why..
The gunshot finally registers within my mind.
Oh, no.
No, no no.
The wind is knocked out of me, and my back hits the pavement. I can see Kaze looking down at the orange, pink and white stripes on my shirt I've spent everything defending, now contaminated with red.
“Get up, please, get up—Chiyo!—someone help us—”
I can feel a hand on my face, tears on my cheeks. I can't tell if they're mine or not.
My vision goes black, and everything stops.
XxXxxx, Xxxxxxxx
2XXX
1,112.
That is how many days it has been since my identity, my life, was taken from me.
I do not remember my name.
I do not remember anything.
All I know is how to work.
Everyday is a cycle of the same things over and over again.
Go to the office, complete your work, go back home, rest, repeat.
I am getting tired of this.
I do not want to be here anymore.
Ever since the new “government” came into power, life has changed completely.
I know there was something in this world before, but I can not remember what.
I wonder what would happen if I left.
I have seen others who have tried.
They try to escape, break the walls set by this new world.
I do not know what happened to them.
I do not think it is anything good.
…
Maybe I should try.
It is not like I have anything to lose.
I start to make my way up the building. It is taller than I remember.
After what feels like forever, I make it to the top.
It feels nice up here.
Like there is no one watching, even if that is likely not true.
I look down.
There are people.
They are staring at me, waiting to see if I will do it.
I do not hesitate.
As soon as my feet leave the roof, I feel like a weight has been lifted off my chest. Like I do not have to worry about anything anymore.
I close my eyes, and for once I feel like I can properly rest.
Shibuya, Tokyo
Modern day
Oh god.
That’s not good.
Shit, that’s not good.
I run my fingers over the paper clip in my pocket while I stare at the TSA gate.
They’re probably not gonna let me go through if I have this paper clip.
And I need to get to New York in America, and I’m not letting TSA stop me from seeing Vivid Bad Squad live onstage. Akito and Toya are performing Ifudoudou, and there’s no fucking way I’m missing that.
(No, I'm not a simp.)
So, I have a dilemma.
I consider my options.
A) I put the paper clip in my backpack while it goes through the scanner. But, if I put it in my bag… what if they threw it out? They probably won’t know that this is the only heirloom I have from my grandmother. And honestly, I don’t think they would want to listen to me talk about my dead grandma and a stupid green paper clip.
B) I throw it over the detector thing, and so it doesn’t detect the metal. But, honestly, they’d probably see something green and little fly over their security system. Nevermind, then.
C) I eat the paper clip
D) I just don’t go through TSA
No, that wouldn’t work.
You can’t get to the gate without going through TSA.
Wait.
Do I even need to go through the airport gate to get onto the airplane?
And this, ladies, gentlemen and everyone in between, is how a terribly stupid idea is born.
The airplanes are right there.
They’re outside. Just kinda sitting there.
And, like, can’t I just kinda walk up and get on?
I wouldn’t have to deal with this stupid TSA thing, and could get to New York without any issues.
Fuck yeah, let’s do this!
…
Okay, well, I’m starting to have a realization.
I don’t actually know how to get up to the airplane door?
Uh, well, it’s fine, I’ll figure this out.
This is just a hindrance in my quest to get to NY.
I can do this.
And now, ladies, gentlemen, and everyone in between, if you look to the left of the safari, you’ll see an unsuspecting 17-year old boy and his dumbass standing in the middle of an airport runway.
Maybe if I climbed the plane somehow?
A large vessel, one created to help soar in the sky, not remotely carnivorous, mind you, is stalking in the nonexistent tall grass and is about to commit manslaughter.
Nah, that’d be too difficult, and cardio kinda sucks.
It draws closer.
What the fuck is that?
Closer.
The fuck?
It prepares to strike.
Fuck.
The 17 year old lets out a fucking high pitched and annoying, nasally impossible screech.
Fu-