Chapter Text
Any other day is the same in those cemented walls that make the base of investigation for some of the many hidden basements the military held in Xīn yuè for Nicholas.
Normally, a basement wouldn’t be a place for luxury, but this specific one, The ninth Moon as it was named for its dome-like appearance, a little far from the frontier thus far from the place battles took place, was one of the few that could afford some opulence in its cemented walls for the central building, where the investigation part happened under their feet and it vastly extended more than what Nicholas could see from the point where his duties as a Warrant Officer allowed him.
Living his whole life in a nation in a constant war and being the son of a General, Nicholas’ life was bound to be wearing a uniform, while knowing his lack of passion and excess of connections would allow him to spend the rest of his days in a mildly comfortable seat instead of a battlefield with a gun on his hand, so he had come to find safety in a monotonous life despite the horrors he was actively participating in by being in charge of The Ninth Moon, because those horrors didn’t imply him pointing a gun to someone else while looking them in the eyes, or so he told himself every day when his alarm went on and he had to drag his feet out of his somewhat comfortable mattress to start his day: a quick workout routine, a shower and off he goes to his early patrol duty, which wasn’t exactly one of his duties, but it was one of the few that helped him remain sane and get some Vitamin D, outside of those gray walls that had become his every day view for the last five years.
The day resumes like this; going on the hallway extended before him as soon as he steps outside his room and saluting the two Private First Classes standing beside the ominous elevator’s doors, asking about any updates from the time he’d been asleep for. Because there is usually nothing remarkable to be said out loud, and now doesn’t seem to be an exemption, he excuses himself to continue his patrol, untangling the keys hanging from his carabineer to open the door across his room, which offers no resistance besides the creaking the metal provides while it gets pushed open, and then more of the same darkness extends until the lights gets turned on and he can distinguish the bookshelves standing tall with no signs of hands prints going near them unlike the filing cabinets, whose metallic cases run disheveled by the continuous usage he makes of them every day as he scrolls down its expanding files folders to add information that he’d be mostly the only person reading.
Beside his desk, there is a vacant one, arranged carefully for a First Sargent to sit at and work as his right hand. A week ago, a man named Koga, code name K, still sat there, but he had left for what both thought was an upgrade of his current state, as he was recruited to work below, where the important stuff being handled by the people with enough ambition took place.
He wouldn’t have time to mourn him right now anyway, for today is the appointed date for his replacement to arrive. First Sargent Byun, code name EJ; the same age as him -the report that had arrived two days ago indicated-, with many accomplishments on his part that suggested he should not get attached to him either, for he was surely getting promoted in a year or two if he continued to excel at his duties in the same way he’d been doing until now.
Glancing at the closed file with the report on his desk, he just hoped EJ wasn’t the kind of guy with a stick stuck up his ass about how necessary the war was and how much it made him feel like someone with a duty to fulfill for their country, because he was already fed up with the type with the few interactions he’d had with his own father while growing up, and didn’t know if he’d be strong enough to pretend he cared about all that while sharing the next twelve months with another guy.
Looking at the clock up in the wall and hearing the muffled sound of the truck parking outside, he lets out a sigh, mustering all of the energy he can at 6 AM the moment the distinct sound of the metallic gate outside opens and someone knocks on his door a few seconds later.
–Come in. –He lets out, and a young looking soldier he remembers being related to an old officer, but not high enough to have status, salutes him. Beside him, standing taller than both of them, a man with a cap covering his eyes that he can only presume is Byun. –You’re dismissed. –He tells the young man that he can now recall his last name being Mauss, code name Maki. The soldier salutes again and heads out, leaving Byun’s belongings on the floor.
Once they’re alone, Byun finally raises his head and Nicholas can barely hide how shaken he is by the man in front of him, his round eyes assessing him as a predator stalking his prey, and despite how soft his features seem, there’s a cold shiver running down his spine as he’s being stared down at in a silence that feels like minutes but lasts no more than seconds.
He has seen those eyes before, or something resembling them, so he doesn’t know if he’s excited or anxious by the sudden reminiscence of a time where he lived in terror, in a much comfortable bed with higher walls and flowers growing outside the window.
EJ moves slowly, almost deliberately cautious as if he had taken notice of the state he’s put Nicholas in, to salute, taking his hand up to pose it at his head. Just then, Nicholas remembers he’s supposed to acknowledge the other and talk, for he’s the one in charge and despite the resemblance to that time, he is no longer a child.
–Please take a seat, Sergeant. –He lets out in a strained voice, the rigid arms he had been holding on top of his desk relaxing before he stares at the other with a crooked smile. If EJ notices the behavior is strange, he doesn’t mention it, politely smiling with his mouth closed while he sits down. –I’m Captain Wang, code name Nicholas. –EJ seems a little quizzical, being the first time his expression actually shifts to express what looks like genuine curiosity that he tries to hide the moment he catches himself with his brows raised a little too high. –I know, it is weird for a higher up to have a code name, but nowadays it is not as strange for a commoner to get promoted. –He lets out a soft chuckle, almost polite, as the man in front of him shakes his head and covers his mouth, apologetic.
–Sorry, I didn’t mean to act like it was strange, but it is indeed the first time I get to meet someone like me in such an important place, so it just made me feel… –He genuinely smiled, a coy smile that conveyed the exact thing he wanted to express, and Nicholas hated how endeared he was by the simple gesture, chills running down his neck. –Hopeful. –The Captain made no effort to hide his own smile.
–I assume that means being here is just the stepping stone for you to work somewhere else, then? –Nicholas ventures to ask and sees how the smile dims, the other’s face turning neutral, analytic. –I won’t take it to heart, not everyone is quite as fond of this office as myself. –He adds to ease the tension that had taken place in EJ’s face.
–Yes, you could say so. –He admits, without letting his intentions slip past that. –But I might warm up to this. –He sugarcoats.
–I hope I can get to know what would be better than this for you in the future. –Nicholas jokes, although he’s truly curious about the other’s goal.
He tries not to mind the curve in the other’s lips too much to know whether he is smiling or not.
–Now, I know you probably were hoping for a slower start, but we might need to get to work as soon as possible, so I’ll show you around if that’s okay with you. –The taller quickly stands up just as Nicholas is leaning to stand up himself, his alerted status registered as a defensive stance that makes him think that maybe EJ had formed somewhere closer to the frontier, or directly in the battlefield. He goes past him and takes one of the two briefcases by its handle, his hand quickly being stopped by the other’s grip firmly on the case.
–Thank you, but I can take those myself. –EJ explains, stubbornly holding onto it. Too defensive, Nicholas notes, but lets go of the object in favor of moving towards the door, huffing.
–I’ll show you around, Sergeant. –He holds the door open and waits for the other to cross it with his two cases in hand. Outside, he nods again at the elevator’s guards who were glancing in their direction, and gets his key out to open the door where he had just come from not long ago. –This is the bedroom. –He points at the bed free of bedsheets just across his own. –That one is your bed, you can leave your things here in the meantime and come unpack it later. –He points at the space in general and notices how the taller was biting his lower lip, clearly hesitating.
–May I know who I am sharing this room with? –He glances at the already made bed and Nicholas follows his gaze, sparing a playful smile.
–That’d be me. –He maintains eye contact for a moment. –Were you hoping for more privacy, perhaps? –The taller one’s neutral expression turns playful again.
–Not really, this is plenty more privacy than the barracks. –He gives out an easy smile as he leaves the briefcases neatly at his bed’s feet. –I’m just surprised the Officer in charge is the one sharing. –His face remains hidden by his cap’s peak, but his voice sounds somewhere between assessing and playful, still unsure if he is allowed to joke around or not. Nicholas wonders if that means that he wants to have a friendlier conversation or if it means he’s pushing himself to meet his standard instead.
–I get lonely too easily, you see. –It was his time to joke, although the other didn't react instantly. –We also get to share the bathroom and take turns to shower, unless you’d prefer to do so in the common area by the barracks. –Nicholas points at the bathroom’s door and then at the two separate baskets with two different tags outside.
–We leave our used towels and clothes in here. –He signals vaguely to the baskets and walks back to the door. EJ remains silent, following him two steps behind.
Once they are outside, the Captain closes the door with his keys, under the other’s curious eyes. After that, he walks to the door that sits closer to the elevator, which opens without the need of a key, and holds it open until the taller crosses it to close it behind them, softly.
–The archives room. –He plainly explains. Inside it looks more like a little version of a library, with many books and documents labeled in alphabetic order. –The most important stuff is in our office, but here we can access the historic records of the basement, so it is no less important. –EJ nods. –This room has a key but I never lock it. –He adds, paying attention to the way the taller’s expression shifts for a minute to surprise and then back to neutral.
–May I ask why? –Nicholas smiles.
He likes the way this guy seems to be analytical rather than jumping straight to judgement, despite his face giving him away first when it came to his emotions.
–Because I am not the one who keeps this place clean and neat. –He offers, looking at the other’s face before continuing. –There is a Private, E-2, son of Minister Asakura –EJ’s eyes widens, but his expression remains calm. –His name is Jo, he’s the youngest heir and has been here for over a year serving the country. Other than me, he’s the only person allowed in this room, but it is too much of a compromise to give a Private a key to any of the rooms here while he’s still sleeping in the barracks. –He explains in detail. EJ nods. –Now you’re the only other person allowed here, although I advise you to let me know beforehand if you’ll be using this place for anything. –Nicholas would know if he uses the place anyway, but he takes the chance to test the other’s intentions. EJ doesn’t answer right away.
–Yes, sir. –He ends up saying with a serious expression. Nicholas chuckles at the formality, but he composes himself as soon as possible under the other’s disconcerted gaze.
–No need to “sir” me. –In a way, dropping that formality was another test, so EJ hesitates.
–Roger, Captain. –He lets out instead. Nicholas laughs again.
–I suppose that’s better. –He shakes his head and signals him to go out, closing the door behind them again once they step out. Aside from the three rooms they had explored, there was one more left to explore. –That’s the laundry room. There are a couple designated Privates that come around to get our laundry done, so there’s no need for us to take our clothes there by ourselves. –He still goes inside to show him around.
Because there are nearly thirty minutes left for the clock to hit seven in the morning, the machines are silent, baskets and carts are neatly piled in a corner and the floor is as clean as it can be. Besides that, there’s two big shelves filled to the brim with boxes and bags.
–This room is also the storage room for bedsheets, towels and more fabric related things. It is our duty to know whether there’s enough things here for the whole basement. –He adds with a sense of pride.
There’s a dim lavender smell alongside a humid atmosphere while he inhales, so he remembers one of the reasons he chose this room to be the last in the tour.
–This is the only room in this building that has a door directly to the outside, too. –He walks across the place, opening up a door so big that it almost feels like a gate. The sun is already setting high in the horizon outside, the lighting’s difference blinding him for a moment.
The Captain lets the fresh air enter his lungs before turning to EJ, who’s just staring at him as if to take him in alongside the scenery. The idea makes Nicholas feel giddy, but he can blame the cold morning breeze for the chills in his spine.
There are cart marks in the ground, making it clear that all of the soldiers' clothes are being carried from the barracks into here and vice versa. At the far right side, there are bars hanging high with some towels in them. Nicholas points in that direction, to the building behind.
–That’s the communal’s bathrooms. Showers included. –He explains plainly. –Where you could come if I’m using the one in the room and you’d prefer that. –EJ nods, glancing in that direction and seeing the last remaining soldiers coming out of the place with their heads wet. Outside the showers, a big cart awaits them to deposit their used towels.
At the far left of the buildings, stands a tall square, similar to a school gym. Outside it, standing by the door is the same soldier that carried EJ’s cases to the main building, blowing a whistle and screaming about the “Last call for breakfast”. As soon as he catches sight of the Captain and company, he salutes.
Beside the building there is a big tent with lots of chairs and tables lined up, where some soldiers linger and line up for something at the end of the space.
–This is the barracks, where everyone that is not ourselves sleeps. –Nicholas enters like he owns the space because, in a way, he does, and the remaining sleepy soldiers inside get instantly rigid at his presence, saluting even if some are still half-naked and putting on some clothes. He walks straight to the end of the made up hallway in between the bunkbeds, where there is a big gate at the left and a normal metallic door at the right. –This is the Sargent’s room –Nicholas points at the normal door, then at the big gate. –And this is where the armament is stored. –EJ looks puzzled.
–The Sargent gets his own room but the Captain doesn’t? –Nicholas lets out a little chuckle and EJ doesn’t seem to understand why would that question be funny.
–My bad. He’s sharing with the Ordnance Specialist, since the guns are here anyway. There is not a single person in this basement that gets a room for themselves.
–Right, that makes sense. –He sounds like it does, and the way his nose scrunches a little in between his eyes is another endearing thing that Nicholas tries to not pay too much attention to.
–Most buildings have two exits, in case of attack. –He explains, although he’s sure the Sargent already knows about it while he points at the doors on each end of the side walls. –This one is thought of as an escape route where one takes the whole armament out, which is why the gates are big. –Beside the gates, there are normal doors, one right and one left. –The right one is closer to the bathrooms, the left one to the eating area. –He opens the latter door and they are inside the tent they had seen from the outside before.
The first thing that comes to view is a cooking area, where some soldiers are lining up to get breakfast from, or so it seems. Across the tent, there is another entrance similar to the one where they came from, which they walk to. Nicholas sees the soldier in charge of serving and smiles, stopping by.
–Feel free to take anything you’d like from here. –He cuts the line and points to the plates. The soldier serving has a round face and round eyes, very childlike, and he salutes with a smile. –What’s today’s suggestion, Taki? –The soldier, whose code name is Taki, offers each of them a shiny bread slice.
–Egg bread, sir! –He answers enthusiastically, to EJ’s surprise.
Both of them accept the baked goods, still warm despite the morning’s cold.
–I’d take it with some barley tea, since it’s sweet. –The boy finishes, glancing at another young boy standing beside him with cups at his hand being poured with tea.
Nicholas takes a tea cup and glances at EJ to get one as well, which he does. The Captain takes a bite and a sip, scrunching his nose.
–Very good, thank you. –He compliments Taki and the boy beside him, making them both smile happily.
Nicholas can not read EJ’s expression, but he wonders if he thinks that, after seeing those innocent eyes beaming at compliments, those kids aren’t fit to go to war or to bear guns in their hands. He would have the time to ask that question later, when the other man has warmed up enough to him to let a little bit of his true thoughts slip.
So, for now, he walks towards the nearest table and sits, signalling the Sergeant to do the same, resting the warm cups on the table.
–Breakfast time is from six to seven, as you can see. After that no one is serving food because it’s time for the training to begin and for us to start working as well. –Nicholas explains. EJ nods, his cheeks full of bread, making his whole face appear even rounder than before, and the Captain finds himself smiling again, so he clears his throat in hopes of not being too obviously endeared. –Lunch time is from twelve to thirteen, same thing. –He takes a long sip of the tea, feeling his cheeks warming up. –Dinner time is around sixteen to seventeen in the afternoon, but then the kitchen stays open until twenty. –He bites the last part of the bread. –You should get your midnight snacks and stuff around nineteen, though.
EJ seems to contemplate what he’s being told, but doesn’t ask any questions, unlike he did with everything else that had been explained to him before. He munches on his bread slowly, as if being careful not to let the crumbs fall onto his uniform, and Nicholas can’t help but think there’s something in the sight that brings him peace: someone with no rush despite how busy everyone is around him, just enjoying his food.
He gets caught staring a moment before the siren that plays loudly everyday at seven in the morning starts going off, making all the remaining soldiers jump from their seats and run somewhere else. But there is something about the way EJ’s face changes before the sound reaches their ears that makes Nicholas feel as if he had anticipated the rumbling, and something about the way he maintained his round fish eyes glued to his own in wonder makes Nicholas want to glance somewhere else first, so he does, the last bit of tea on his cup suddenly the most entertaining thing to keep his eyes on in the busy surroundings.
–Sorry, did I take too long eating? –EJ asks, his voice low and a little ashamed. Nicholas huffs.
–Don’t worry, you must’ve been hungry from the journey. –He remembered something about EJ’s report about his last basement being quite far from the Ninth moon. –Tired as well. –He adds, a little apologetic about not letting him rest.
From afar, they can hear stomping and soldiers counting from one to four along the whistle of whom they could presume was the instructor.
–Thank you for your concern, Captain. –EJ cleans the corner of his mouth. –But may we continue with the introduction?
–I was hoping I could slack off some more, but since you’re so eager… –-Nicholas jokes and stands up despite his words. –We’re almost done with the tour anyway. –EJ nods and stands, following the captain’s lead to the source of the whistle and stomping, always two steps behind. In the middle of the field, with enthusiasm and authority, stands a man, shorter than them but visibly more bulked up; his uniform indicates his status as a Sergeant.
–Captain Nicholas, good morning. –The man salutes in a laid back manner that could be interpreted as disrespectful if not for his rank and his bright smile.
–Sergeant Fuma, I see you’re energetic as usual. –Nicholas comments, glancing at his companion. –This is First Sergeant Byun, code name EJ. –The man beside him salutes, his posture stiff and somewhat confident. –He’ll be taking K’s place, so I hope you two get along. –Fuma’s expression grows amused.
–Of course, no problem. –He glances at EJ with a clear smile. –You look young, may I know your age? –The taller man glances at Nicholas and then back at Fuma, as if trying to assess whether or not he should answer. When neither of them talk, he seems to opt for a friendly approach, his face still neutral.
–I am twenty three.
–Oh. –Fuma looks at Nicholas. –Same age? Isn’t that a nice coincidence? You’ll get to have friends your age, Nico. –The man adds lightheartedly, nudging the Captain in the bicep, to which EJ seems surprised in the same way someone who had witnessed a big offence to their nation would look.
–Don’t pressure him to befriend me, we are just in business terms at the moment. –Nicholas smiles, noticing the tension that interaction may have posed to the new guy, unfamiliar to their antics or probably any form of interaction between military higher ups that wasn’t strictly formal from his stare.
He didn’t bother to explain the fact that Fuma was close to him because of their shared history either, nor did he mention how fond he was of the Instructor for the way the man was actually compassionate when the young peasants that had clearly become soldiers to save their old fathers from enrolling into a pointless war fell to their knees from overworking themselves in their first days.
–I’m sorry, EJ. Don’t feel pressured by the words of this old man. –Fuma hints to himself with a sly smile and just then the other man eases his expression, his interest seemingly being picked by that remark.
–Old man? –The newbie asks and Nicholas lets out a chuckle.
–He’s just a few years older than us. –The Captain adds.
–Five years is a lot of difference. –Fuma adds with an easy smile. –But, well, you’ll understand once you reach this age. –He makes a melancholic face and looks around at the soldiers circling around them in their trot, as if yearning for their youth despite not even being that much old. –Now, if you’ll excuse me, we need to continue with our routine over here. –Given his familiarity one would expect him to take his leave with no further ado, yet he waits for Nicholas’ permission to be dismissed before turning around and heading to where the same soldier they had seen before, Maki, was leading the others on his behalf.
They stand in the same place, side eyeing each other subtly until Nicholas clears his throat again.
–You don’t need to be awkward around Fuma, for he’s one of the few people from this basement that I have my uttermost trust in. –He knows that doesn’t mean that EJ has to trust him as well, but he guesses that for him to become a good right hand he’d need to at least know this much information.
The taller purses his lips in the same way he had done each time he was debating internally whether to ask something or not, and Nicholas guesses his conclusion is to hold it back.
–Let’s go to our last but not least destination. –He provides instead of getting the questions out of him, and starts heading to the one place he did, in fact, had to check on regularly as a part of his duties.
He leads them behind the tent where the common dining area is and takes out his keys to open a big door that sits beside the armament’s room Nicholas pointed out earlier from the inside of the building.
–This is the storage room; all the food and supplies are here so, of course, not everyone has a key to this place. –He turns the light on and takes a notepad that hangs from the wall with a pencil attached. –We need to make inventory of everything here so we can order new stuff if needed. There are designated soldiers that do this every day before the kitchen opens and after it closes, so we are supposed to check that list matches the actual stuff in here at least once a day. It is more of a “your job” kind of thing, though. –EJ glances at the place, as if to take it wholly, and Nicholas takes the lack of sighs as a good signal.
–There is no designated time to make it, right? –He checks, instead.
–Yeah, but I advise you to do so before the kitchen opens or right after it closes. –EJ hums and there is a glint of excitement in his eyes that resembles a child. –I would let you stay in and do it now, but there is one place I need to show you before that. –The younger man gets visibly flustered, but does a good job at hiding his previous excited expression. Nicholas doesn’t comment on it despite his own smile before he heads out, closing the door behind them with a twist on the keyhole.
–Just beside the storage room we have the armament, which is pretty convenient for inventory’s duties. –A big gate, just as the one that could be seen from the inside, is there, wide open displaying the different guns the basement offered training for.
This time, EJ’s expression shifts and instead of awe his semblance becomes serious, the same kind of stare he had on the moment he stepped inside his office; a predator assessing his surroundings, alert in case of a threat.
In that assessing silence, steps can be heard from the inside, approaching slowly as pages are being turned.
–The armament’s inventory is not our responsibility to fill out, for that we got our Unit’s armorer. –EJ’s head turns to the source of the steps and Nicholas follows the path with his eyes, soon enough being able to distinguish a bright blonde head with his crown down while scribbling in the papers he was apparently filling. –Which would be him; Officer Yuma.
The blonde man stares up from the paper with a neutral expression, and a grin forms on his face once he makes out who is the man standing in front of the two.
–Nico! –Yuma’s snaggle tooth can be seen from the corner of his mouth when he mentions the nickname, and his face turns instantly curious when the man standing behind just stares down at him, not even sparing him a courtesy smile. –And that is…?
–K’s replacement. –Nicholas adds simply, walking past Yuma to stand behind him, pressing a hand onto his shoulder. –Code name EJ, your new superior officer and the one you will explain the ropes of inventory making right now. –The Captain smiles and both men seem a little disconcerted at the explanation. –This is the part where you go “Yes, Captain!” –Nicholas mocks the gesture, which makes EJ flush and take his hand onto his cap, Yuma shortly following as both yell “Yes, Captain”.
The brunette smiles easily, not minding the fact that there seems to be a lack of formalities in the place that would make any respectable soldier be ashamed of if put in charge. He locks eyes with the taller one last time, searching for a sign of anything similar to a judgmental stare, but finds nothing of the sort.
–Once you’re done here, come back to my office. –He attempts to give the taller man a pat on the shoulder as well, but notices him flinching and retreating before he gets to touch him.
–Yes, Captain! –EJ looks at him with a hint of curiosity, the same way an animal that has never approached a human before does. He doesn’t look apologetic about non-chalantly avoiding the physical touch, and doesn’t try to resume it either, giving a firm half step back in his place with his hand still on his forehead.
Nicholas doesn’t change his expression, but doesn’t dismiss him either, feeling his ego hurt like a child that doesn’t get the candy they want at the store. He walks back to his office in silence, standing tall as usual.
He only lets out a sigh the moment he closes the door behind his back, sitting on his desk chair with the folder regarding EJ’s information still open. It’s not the first time he’s seen it, but now that he has a face to put to the data in it it starts making sense, his mind drawing to conclusions he had been avoiding until a glance to those eyes sent a shiver down his spine.
The papers revealed the basic information they would reflect for any soldier; his first register as a Byun’s child when he was fourteen years old, which wasn’t uncommon for the countryside folks, too used to teaching the young about work rather than worry about sending them to school or fuss over whether or not they were registered as civilians. As someone with no prior education under a family dedicated to working as temporary workers for fruit fields, with no other children under their register, his future had been sealed as a low tier soldier that was to be sent to the frontlines when he became of age, yet he had ventured to enroll into a cadet’s school a year later, which was around the same time he himself had entered the same school at the Northern’s regions of the city, the “North star”, and he somehow made a remarkable enough effort for his future to change, allowing him to go up the chain of power until he reached the position of the First Sergeant of the Ninth moon.
EJ’s biggest assets were listed as “logistics”, “long range shooting” and “analytical thinking”, which would explain the bright expression the other wore when presented with the task of making inventories and the way he didn’t stutter when making questions that helped him assess the whole order in the basement as its own ecosystem.
Nonetheless, despite being the same age, enrolling at the same time in the same school and both coming from the outskirts of the Southern region all being casualties hard to ignore, is precisely the information unlisted from the time before the coincidences started the thing that bothered the Captain the most.
Nicholas doesn’t concern himself with the ongoing war, nor with the business he’s covering behind his desk every day, because he wouldn’t be able to move on if he did. He can’t talk about his links to the General, nor can he mention anything from the life he used to have before his formation as a cadet, so, in a way, even the fact that EJ’s life started then coincides with the time his own life publicly began and there is something undeniable about the gut feeling his body was trying to convey to him since the other walked past that door; something reminiscing of said time neither of them have had the chance to let anybody else know about and that remained a secret to each to preserve.
The thing is, being the son of a General, Nicholas wasn’t prone to religion or the idea of an almighty being pulling the strings of everybody’s fates, having convinced himself of the fact that there was no such thing as God after praying every day before sleep for the phantom that lurked his bed at nights to stop showing in the form of familiar hands touching his body and finding out nobody would answer his pleas.
For a faith that was bound to stay dim, it all changed the instant he saw the cause of his terrors being taken away one night by a force that couldn’t be named anything but divine, despite its seemingly humanly childish shape covered in blood, and, from then on Nicholas couldn’t help but think that God had finally reached out, answering his call.
Behind the red stains on his vision, a memory stayed frozen right up to the moment those rounded eyes found its way into his life again, walking in his direction this time wearing the same military attire he wore in a much taller figure that wasn’t as bulked up as his own, gracefully demanding respect in a different way.
As he sat there, taking in the familiar stare, he couldn’t shake off the idea that, if he had ever learned his savior’s name, it would probably be close to EJ’s.
It had to be EJ.
With renovated vigor, the keys from the carabineer dangle, his hand reaching for a tiny one with a distinct shape. He inserts it on the hole for the first drawer, draws the four digit’s code of the second lock and reaches inside for a big folder with a rugged cover, his fingers ghosting over the rim trembling in excitement.
For the armament’s inventory to be filled it usually takes one hour, considering that Yuma will be teaching EJ, he should have at least an additional thirty minutes to leave his mind wonder in those old paragraphs that tell in detail the story of the day his life changed, but what he pays attention to is not the grotesque pictures of the crime scene nor his mother’s dismembered body; he looks for something that he knows isn’t there and won’t be there until he fills it up.
He tries to gather every memory for that night, his mother’s perfume, the chills on his skin as he tries to not feel the warmth spreading under the familiar touch. He shakes his head, reminding himself that the important part is what comes after the fog at the front of his brain. He looks past his mother’s hair in the embrace she’s forcing and notices the light from his night stand flickering, as it if were a reflection of his mental state, and for a moment he fails to notice the window behind her opening despite being a calm night, with no wind to blame for the abrupt breeze creeping inside the room. His mother reaches for his trembling hand and kisses it, but he doesn’t find comfort in the action and is quick to pull away.
He shakes his head again, feeling his throat sore and his breath accelerate with a hint of puke from the rejection he’s conjuring. Past the fog, he mutters to himself under his breath as a chant. There is something else, something snapping the moment he tries to talk some sense to her and she sweetly brushes it off. His eyes start to water and the fog becomes denser. He’s at the point where he’d usually give up, but those eyes, the same ones that entered the office earlier, are the same that pushed him to fight back that day. Once his body notices the window letting the air flow, his focus shifts, looking into the darkness of his room for clues that indicate whatever it is that has trespassed, piles of clothing resembling too many bodies to pull apart what his eyes strain to see and what is really there. Still, his eyes see it. Round shiny eyes staring straight back from the darkness, the moon lighting up ever so slightly what he can no longer deny is another person standing there with a blank expression. Irises dance but remain glued to each other, and once Nicholas caught with his own breath again it seems like the other person mutters the question “Do you need help?” And Nicholas nods, praying in his mind that he can be heard.
The next thing he sees is crimson red splashing in all directions, but there is red behind that as well. It seems obvious, but until now he never considered that different shade to be out of place in his childhood room. Now he knows better.
Nicholas takes a deep breath and a blank sheet from a pile that rests at the desk’s corner, soaking his pen with ink as he scribbles the following information:
________________________________________________
Date: September 26th, 1835
The case has been re-opened due to new information provided by the only witness, authorized by Warrant Officer in service Wang “Nicholas”.
Wang Yixiang declares the following about the suspect:
- Previously stated facts: Thin body, pale skin, around his own age or younger (pre-teen), couldn’t state if male or female, short hair.
- New details that could help to identify the suspect: Lanky posture, round eyes, pointy nose and ginger red hair. Was wearing some kind of medical attire (robe).
________________________________________________
It hasn’t even been sixty minutes, but he decides to close the folder, putting it back in its place, secured and shut off from the world. His hand trembles with barely contained anxiety, the pandora box of the crime dampening his forehead with a cold sweat he had been ignoring the whole time in order to prioritize the information he could get from the strain on his memory. He takes the time to unwrap a handkerchief, cleaning his face in an attempt to pull himself together.
Memories can’t hurt him if he doesn’t pry too much; that’s what he had told himself all over the years to avoid the guttural aching he’s experiencing right now.
However, someone who isn’t willing to lose cannot win either.
If finding his savior means he has to put up with recalling over and over the same night, despite the need to crawl out of his skin every time he does so, he will have to learn how to stop his heart from stomping inside his ribcage, how to prevent the goosebumps on his back, how to dim the headache, how to stop tasting iron on his tongue and the retching that follows.
Because, maybe, finding his savior means he will get to own his body for the first time ever.
And because maybe, just maybe, thanking them while looking at their face will make the nine years he’d spent living have a meaning.
Nicholas puts the handkerchief back on his pocket, the thrill of fear subdued by something akin to excitement.
There is a pile of documents that need reviewing sitting on his desk, so he can’t slack off either. And if he looks creepy with a grin plastered on his face while reading the list of materials the basement will be receiving the next week and its purpose, he still has at least thirty minutes on the clock before his new Sergeant comes back to question him.
He will compose himself by then.