Mom must have left the windows open; it's freezing in the house. No matter how hard I try, I can't seem to pull the covers tight and warm up. The ceiling's probably leaking again. I tried to patch it, but the mattress is soaked… Maybe after the school trip I can take a look at it.
"Go….Wa...up…..School…."
I can hear mom nagging me again. I get it, I get it—I need good grades or I'll end up like Dad.
"Gōki, wake up... for school."
It's fine, mom. Maybe I wanna be like Dad. He was a lieutenant, and he took care of us.
"Gōki! Get up or you'll be late for your trip!"
"Ahh, fine, fine—Mom, I'm up!"
My eyes snap open and I remember.
Right…I'm here. I don't hear the bear anymore, so it's probably safe. Maybe it got scared.
Sit up slowly. My ass is frozen in this water. Head's killing me and my clothes are soaked. The sun will dry me off tomorrow, at least. My legs pop a little when I stand, but they don't feel broken. No rips in the new jacket either—at least Mom won't scream at me about it.
Scoop up my flashlight. It fell near the riverbank but it looks like it still works. Lucky.
Don't see anyone in the camp. Don't tell me no one came to check if I was okay. The teacher is just as chicken-shit as those three. I knew it.
After a few stretches I feel almost as good as new. There's no blood, but there's a lump where I hit my head.
I'll just put my shoes on and go give the camp a scare—they might think I'm a ghost. Heh heh.
The parking lot is back past these big rocks. I'm sure I'll see it if I walk a bit.
It's crazy how quiet it is here—no cars, no music, nothing. Just frogs and wind.
Guess we were up pretty late telling stories, weird that the screaming didn't wake someone up.
They didn't go get the police, did they? Ugh… explaining that it's not my fault—this time.
Maybe I was faster than I thought. Did I really carry the bags this far, or was I just too tired to notice?
It's just nothing: trees, frogs, wind, trees, rocks, trees, frogs, eyes—
Eyes!
No… it's nothing. Just a bush. I'll hurry up.
Looking around distracts me anyway, gotta move, no time for sightseeing.
My wet socks are rubbing my feet raw. It's getting hard not to slip.
How long do I have to keep walking? Did I go the wrong way?
No… I'm sure this was it. Only gotta go a bit further.
I sit down and peel my shoes and socks off. I hope there are no blisters tomorrow; it looks a little red and puffy, but it's hard to tell. I'll relax here for a bit. This grass is soft enough, plus I won't get muddy.
I'll… I'll just wait here… things are shaking around anyway… you're supposed to… supposed to hide… during earthquakes…
It's just a little break.
Ahh… this is nice. The earthquake is over and the sun is warm on my face. It's bright when I open my eyes, but it looks like a nice day today. I've even dried out a little.
My feet look rough. Hopefully they have some bandages on the bus. The blood will wash out of the socks no problem.
There's no rush. Stand up real slow—tch—shit that stings, slide everything else back on.
Still no bus, no students. What if I'm on the news? What if Mom thinks I'm dead? Ahhh, this is bullshit. Should have stayed home, graduation ain't worth the trouble.
I have to keep moving. So what if I'm turned around a little? There will be a road sooner or later.
If I whistle a song while I walk then my feet hurt less. Can't stand the silence, or being lost.
The sun's almost down. Probably should have brought some of the camping supplies, or at least grabbed a snack. I'm so hungry.
My feet are numb. I'm scared to look at them, but it doesn't hurt anymore.
Grab up a bunch of twigs and leaves, make a pile. Teach' said to rub a stick in it for fire.
Must be too slow. Or too fast? I swear this was how he did it.
Maybe it's the wrong sticks, or the leaves are wet. It's not even warm.
I give up.
Mush up the pile of leaves and try to lay my head on the softest ones. Just need to pray someone saw me on the news. I hate camping.
I hear breathing. It's slow and heavy. When I open my eyes it's pitch black, but the breath is warm and wet on my face.
There is something wet on my ankle. It itches so badly, but I can't scratch it.
Clench my jaw. Reach as hard as I can. The squirming itching in my leg–almost there!
I snap awake as I roll over and my nose is filled with mud. I cough and spit dirt and snot onto the ground. At least I can see the sunrise now.
I scratch my legs through the tops of my socks. It feels wet and sticky, but scratching it feels nice.
My ankles feel softer than usual, but I don't want to look. My red fingertips tell me what I need to know.
Standing up slowly, it takes me a second to get my balance. Maybe I'm hungry. It's gotta just be hunger.
I need to find something to eat, or the old camp, or a road, or someone… I need to find something.
Up a hill, down a hill, at least I'm moving forward; that's something, that's progress. Still no roads, but I'll find one today.
Picking up the mushrooms on the way, no funny colors, probably fine. I brush the dirt off with my hands. I hope it's just dirt.
I've got a nice collection now: three long whitish ones with little hats, two fat brownish ones like the ones from the supermarket, and a squishy gray one with a big top.
With my eyes closed it's almost like home cooking.
"Itadakimasu!" I yell out as loud as I rip into them. "So good, Mom! Dirt-and-shit flavor! My favorite…"
Who am I kidding? This isn't even prison food.
It's dark again… I'm not tired. I have the flashlight. I can walk forever.
I can't keep any of the food down, screw it, I'm strong. I don't need what I'm throwing up, I'm getting rid of the dirt.
The earthquakes are back. Stumbling over is getting annoying but I barely feel it when I hit the ground anymore.
I can tell I'm close to the roads now, the way the trees split to make way for me, the way the frogs croak my name.
"Gōki, you can do it! Gōki you're almost there! Gōki! Gōki! Gōki! Gōki!"
They become so loud and easy to hear when I'm talking, but when I stop they try to hide again.
There's the smell of something tasty, cooked meat! If I follow this smell I'll reach the roads again!
The woods are silent. The voices were chased away when the sun came up. It was nice of them to keep me company all night.
How long have I been chasing this smell? I can't stop. Anyone cooking up a smell this good must be willing to share.
It's some kind of pork, or beef, maybe it's chicken, even frogs or mice. It doesn't matter either way. It smells amazing.
Through the trees I see little wisps of smoke. I must be close to eating.
There is a small clearing. It must be some historical site; it looks foreign. The walls are white and the roof looks like it's made of noodles.
They must be cooking the meat to go with the roof—RAMEN! Of course! It's like the candy house from the kids book.
Charging toward the house. Feeling stronger than ever. That little wooden door is all that's in my way.
"HEY! LET ME IN! HEY!" I yell and pound my fists against the door. The door must be cheap; there's a loud crack every time I hit it.
"I'LL PAY YOU LATER! LET ME IN!"
The door is starting to splinter. I just need to keep going. I heard someone scream inside.
If I save them, then they have to share their food—I'll be a hero.
The hinges of the door give way with a crack and I push the chunks inside, falling along with them.
"I…hah…I'm here to save you… So gimme some…hah…food…"
There's bread on the table!
I crawl across the floor. My fingers don't want to open, so I just punch the leg as hard as I can. The table leg snaps. The bread is on the floor; that's all that matters.
This is the greatest bread I've ever tasted. The outside is hard, It grinds roughly against my gums, it's wet and tastes like iron, but I'll finish it if it kills me.
Soon as I finish it, I'll see what that sobbing is. They must need help, but they can wait just until I'm full.
"You goddamned vagrant trash!"
Someone behind me yells. I turn—and something metal slams into my head.
I clutch my bread tight, close my eyes. My eyes are so heavy… It's nice to relax…So tired…
I hear whispering, and feel something wet on my face. That smell is still in the air—no, it's close. I can taste it.
Opening my eyes there's a small hand holding a spoon in my mouth.
I'm in bed now, I think. It's hard to keep my eyes open. My mom is feeding me. Ahh great, so they found me. The owner must have called the police.
"Mom… I don't want to go on any more… school trips."
She seems surprised. I know why; I'll probably have to drop out if I don't go. I'll do the same work as Dad… I'll be fine.
Mom fixes my hair and smiles. "You should sleep. We'll talk later."
That makes sense. Why rush? For now… I'll just relax.
"Yeah, thanks for the trouble. I'll make sure he works it off."
Whoever's talking, they sure are loud about it. Must be a delivery man. Ugh, I'm not ready to wake up. Those nightmares were terrible.
Curling away from the noise, I bury my face in my pillow. Mom changed the soap. It feels different than I remember.
"Hey, wake up! You're gonna work off the trouble you caused."
Who let the delivery man in my room? Who does he think he is talking like that in our house?
"Lirien, don't be too tough on him. I think he's been struggling." Mom must be sick; she sounds different.
Someone is poking my ass with a broom or something. I reach out and grab it as I open my eyes, but I'm not home anymore.
The room is like the one from my dream—white walls and wooden furniture, like a fairy-tale house.
Some spindly little dork is holding the tree branch. He's short and blonde, some kind of foreigner. He looks like a cosplayer with his big goofy wizard hat.
"Who are you? Where's my mom? I just saw her."
Wrenching the stick from him he falls over onto the bed.
"Ahh h-hey! Stop that! Give that back!" he yells and flails around before standing up. He seems serious, so I toss his stick back to him. He fumbles to catch it.
An older woman is peeking around the corner. She's familiar, too familiar…
"Mom, she's… not here, is she…"
I guess…that's for the best. I don't want her to be in the woods here anyway. It's not safe.
"Thanks for the bread and the soup. Sorry about the door and all… but we're cool, right? There's no need to call the police."
Stretching out, my hands and feet feel fine. There was nothing to worry about; all I needed was some food and sleep. Haha, I knew I was made of tough stuff.
"Call for who now? You must have hit your head pretty badly. Can't move that."
The cosplayer tries to stand up and look official, but he barely stands a head above me when I'm sitting up.
"You owe us for your broken hands, your feet that looked like raw meat, not to mention our doorway. We already paid the martyrs, but you OWE US—over sixty silver pieces."
He pokes me in the chest, huffing and puffing like he's tough. It's hard not to laugh
"Silver? How many yen is that? I forgot my wallet at home, and my hands and feet are fine, see—"
My hands look awful. Were they always this scarred? The fingers look reattached, and the nails are purple and black.
I throw the blanket to the floor. My feet feel okay, but they're bruised and purple, with some small scars on the sides.
"What the hell did you do to me!? Are you trying to extort me!? You're no yakuza, you cosplay dork! JUST TRY IT!"
Leaping from the bed I try to grab him. He steps back and whispers something.
I rub my eyes; there's some kind of hazy bubble around him.
Stepping up close, he seems so cocky now. I throw my best haymaker. It slams into the bubble.
There's a flash of light as I fly back into the bed.
He's just staring at me like nothing happened, "Sixty-five silver pieces now… did you get hit that hard?"
Did they give me some kind of drug? No way he threw me. He's a nobody.
"Since you seem to need it, I'll give you an explanation of the work you'll be doing downstairs. Come eat."
He turns around and walks through the door.
I don't know what he did to me, but… it looks like I can't do anything about it.
I stand up and throw a few punches where he stood. Nothing happens.
I look myself over: pants a little torn up, still have Dad's lucky belt, no needle marks on my arms.
My shoes sit neatly by the door with some new socks. At least there's that. I'll have to find my jacket later.
The house is old, but it's nice. No lights though; I must be out in the sticks. Maybe this is how they avoid the cops.
Outside the room there's a short hall and a few doors, with some stairs at the end.
I head for the stairs. At least whatever we're having smells good.
The stairs open up into an old kitchen. It's like something my great-grandma would use: woodfire stove, candles, all wood furniture.
The little guy is sitting at the table and he's eyeballing me. The lady from before sees me and smiles as she sets the table. She reminds me of mom, but European.
I sit down at the table. The lady gives me a slice of the bread I remember, and a bowl of what looks like a stew—with beef in it? They must be doing something shady if they're just giving that away.
"Itadakimasu." I say, and clap my hands. They both jump. The little guy grabs his stick, but when I start eating everyone relaxes. The soup is good. My last good meal feels so far away. The bread doesn't taste like iron anymore; maybe that bread was special.
"So, I'm not worried about your story, and you don't seem in any shape to tell it reliably."
The boy speaks slowly to me, like I'm a kid.
"My name is Lirien. This is my mother Faela. You'll be staying with us for a while until you pay what you owe us. I won't charge you for the magic, or your room and board, but you WILL pay for the door and the cost of the martyr who took up your wounds."
Magic? Is that what they call it here? It must be meth. Dad used to say meth heads could walk through gunfire. Martyr? The dealers maybe? Who knows.
"If you try to run off you'll be considered wanted. Sixty-five silver is a lot, but you should be set in a month or two."
"Well, I don't need my mom hearing about me causing trouble and owing you money. So fine, but let's keep your 'magic' to a minimum."
If it's just once I'll be okay. I'm not hooked. Hopefully the work isn't too dirty. If Dad could handle it I'm sure I'll be fine.
Lirien gives me a small smile. "I wouldn't have it any other way. Fixing ain't cheap. Once you're finished eating we can go."
He eats a few bites of bread before standing and hugging his mother. "Don't worry, everything will be fine."
I try to focus on my meal, but his cheeks turn red when he notices me looking.
Clearing his throat he heads toward the front door. "I'll wait outside. Try not to dawdle."
I dip my bread in the soup and eat it. When I stand up, I give Faela a polite bow. "Thank you for the food. It was delicious."
She smiles and begins to clean the dishes from the table. When I turn to leave, she places her hand on my shoulder.
"I sewed up your jacket. The back was ripped. I left it near the door. You seem like a strong boy; please keep Lirien safe."
She gives me a smile and I have to look away. She reminds me too much of Mom, but I nod before making my way to the entrance.
My jacket is hung near the door on a wooden hook next to some others. The stitching is nice, but the color isn't the same so it looks like black spider webs against the navy blue. I'm happy to still have it. I put it on and head out the door.
The weather is nice. The woods look different than I remember. The pine trees are… pricklier? Maybe it's my imagination; the needles seem long.
Lirien is sitting on top of a low fence near where a gate would probably go if they meant to keep anyone out.
Looking back at their house, now I can tell the roof isn't made from noodles. It's a decent place, but very old and foreign-looking. Maybe some Europeans built it during the samurai days.
The yard isn't anything special: a lot of dirt and a few plants with some kind of fruit on them. Almost like purple strawberries or something, but who knows.
Lirien clears his throat and hops down from the fence. "Done taking in the sights? If so, we have to head to town and see what needs doing. Hopefully Gralkus can find some kind of work you can do with us."
Grr-all-kussu… Grall-Kus… So the boss is foreign too. I hope I don't embarrass myself trying to say his name. I need to make a good impression if I'm going to get this over with.
He goes on explaining something about monsters and bandits. Maybe a manga or something he liked. I'm not interested in that kind of stuff.
The woods wind on for ages. Lirien never shuts up and gets mad when I start to whistle. He must think he's my boss now.
Maybe I'll pop him just once when this is all over. I wonder how long that will take.
I yawn and stretch, closing my eyes for just a second. "So what kind of stuff are we going to be doing anyway, and how long will I have to work for you?"
Lirien stops and turns toward me just as I walk into him. We fall over in a heap.
"W-w-what!? What do you mean!? I've been explaining all that for nearly an hour!"
He's pissed. Must really care about that manga. His face is starting to turn red, I better go easy on him.
"I'm not explaining it again. Ugh! Just do what I say, okay? Easy enough for you?"
I give him my biggest, fakest smile, "Ha-haha, don't worry. I get it, I get it. I'll work hard."
Lirien swipes at his shirt to get the dust from the road off it.
"I'm sure I can handle anything you need me to do, boss, hahaha." It's too easy to tease him.
"I hope so, because if you mess this up it will take you even longer to PAY ME BACK."
He starts to walk again, with a few big stomps to show me he REALLY means business now.
It's funny to watch him act tough, I might not get paid if I go too hard at him though.
The rest of the walk is quiet. I guess I prefer it this way, but now it just feels like school again: boring.
The path winds between the trees back and forth. I'm surprised we can go this far without seeing a real road.
I haven't heard any cars or trains. I didn't realize how far outside the city the camping trip went. I must have gone straight into the hills. But I could see Mt. Fuji on the way to the site. Maybe it's just hidden with the trees or something.
It'll be nice to be back home. Explaining to Mom where two months went will be a pain, but she'll understand. She was married to Dad after all.
The trees ahead of us start to thin out and Lirien calls back to me. "Okay, we're almost to town. Just leave the talking to me and don't cause any trouble."
"A town! Hahaha, why didn't you say so?"
I run in front of him. He rolls his eyes and says something, but who cares.
Things can finally get back to normal…
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