"NOM! CRUNCH!! Mmmm~! Ahhh~ this is the best fuckin' food I've ever goddamn tasted, back at home, they don't have food this good and I can't really afford any of it. So, uh…" Cal mumbled, staring into their eyes, pupils shrunken, eyeballs spread wide…. Before bursting out in laughter.
Holding a drumstick of chicken in one hand, Rivers gulped down the remnants of the meat he'd ripped, sheepishly chuckling with their laughter; Cal placed the stick into the tray below his chin. Digging their fingers through the food, with burnt fingers, he picked up a singular fry and put it to his mouth, body jerking, mouth wincing, he bit down on the potato's skin.
Rizia tapped the tip of their finger against the table's edge, inching their hand to their shaded lips, teeth sinking into but one glove socket and ripping it right off their hand,
"Tell me something, how do you stand on your burnt foot, or grab things with your burned fingers? It should be mind numbingly painful, and yet you don't seem bothered by it in the slightest," Observed Rizia, pointing a pen at his face through his whitened strands, to which he laughed, yet again,
"Is this an interview?" Sarcastically inquired the young man to his new comrade, another laugh bellowing out their throat,
"Hahaha- no, no, nothing like that! It's just… we've only known each other a few minutes and there's something about you that- intrigues me. So, enlighten me, and I'll tell you about this," They answered with an interesting grin over their lips,
Revealing their left hand exposed without the glove, it mechanically whirred and moved together the second their fingers warbled around, to which Cal smirked, and shrugged. Scarred fingers, more intact than the right ones charred to a blackened state, wrapped around another fry. Pushed it between his lips; he crunched intently on the salty shell. Yet again, a muffled wince exited his lips momentarily, deformed on both sides, parting them both, he stared at her, leaning with his left arm against the seat's arm, pointing his burnt fingers at her,
"I've lived with this shit for almost six years. Honestly, I don't remember a world where I wasn't like this. I look at pictures through one eye and have hazy vision. To me, it's just not real. I'm numb. Honestly, the only part of my body that hurts is my ass whenever I have to take a shit. I've tried to kill myself and self harm doesn't feel like anything so- whatever happened, happened. It's the past and I can't change it. Does that make sense for you, 'reporter'?" He mockingly inquired of this person… this thing in front of his red-eye, a slave.
Their head stood hung, pointed downward, at the open notebook with paper pale, invisible words drawn onto the lines, ink running as she pointed the pen's tip in place. His words, the rasp in his vocalization, a drop of sweat-drenched a spot on their paper below, a shaky breath seeping out their lips like a gas leaking out a pipe, eyes wide, once more… the memories of a horrible past came crawling back to her,
"I… how do you do such a thing? How-" They snapped their neck upright so they could make eye contact with Rivers ahead of them, red-eye mixed with confusion, they were curious, searching for a clear answer through the confusion of it all, "How are you so free? I-I don't get it… it makes no sense," As they begged for an explanation, he hummed arrogantly and shrugged ignorantly,
"I have a dream," Cal answered with his head turned to the door, hair covering his red-eye, he watched as more people entered, while they gasped, then widening their eyes, hands slamming down on the table,
"What is it?!" They questioned loudly the man in front of them.
Spiky hair strands fluffily bouncing as they pushed themselves up, standing up from their seat, they cast a lowly shadow on his being, to which he glared at. Immediately, they sat down like a dog obeying the silent will of their master, and Callum recalled something, eye rapidly darting around within the confines of his white eyeball, he started to speak,
"My dream… hm? Well, to be honest, I've never really given it any thought until now, but it's intertwined with my philosophy on life ever since what happened that day. Something I came to understand as I lived on through the turmoil of being as disfigured as this thing. Mankind is so preoccupied with bloodshed and hatred, they will never come to understand something so feeble and insignificant as life. It is precious, wondrous, and beautiful…
After I was scarred, I spent quite some time in a hospital. I didn't speak. I was rolled out to take in the sights of the trees, the river flowing calmly, the birds chirping while perched on the branches. The wind blowing in the leaves, crickets chirping in the nighttime, the chatter of people walking past in the daytime while the sunlight hit my eyes. Truly, it was a beloved sight. One might call that inner peace. I thought to myself why they had to die, to be rid of their lives so quickly for being innocent people. Mom and Dad never did anything to hurt anyone. This world is corrupt and built on hatred and power, the only reason things happened the way they did is that those who challenged the Elite needed to be silenced so those in power could keep it. It's REVOLTING.
My dream is to eventually alter the framework of the world so that that Elite can suffer the way I have, eternally, and have a society where everyone is equal and no one innocent has to die. I can't bring anyone back but I can honor their memory by avenging their taken souls. That's what I decided back then, I won't stand by and be the same useless me I always am. That's why I'm studying biology as my major, my grades are at the top of my game and I intend to spend as long as it takes to rise the ranks so I may reach the top. Mark my words: I'll make them pay, without a shadow of a doubt. Does that answer your question, Miss Rizia Kosuke?" Creepily asked him with a rasp at the climax of his explanation to his future new ally, but they were nowhere to be seen.
Instead, they'd vanished from their seat, but his head didn't turn, he needn't search for their body he did quite the opposite. Cane having scarred extremities slip around the slim shape, Callum waved over to the waiter behind the counter, watching as they turned their head to his whistle,
"Put this on a Miss Rizia Kosuke's tab, I have to be getting back," He advised the worker, then limping out the establishment, he made his way back on campus to his dorm room.
Without a care in his mind, he walked, effortlessly moving with one leg sliding against the concrete's tiles compared to the other confidently strutting, that being the left. Coat stretched over his back moving with the wind's flow, a stolen glove hiding his charred fingers on the right-hand side, Callum was silent. The near-summer air was just right, tints of hot and cold hidden within the air, the sun's lighting shining on just the right side of his hair to not creep in while irritating his scars, jacket rippling through the air, warm chills rippling through his skin, Rivers moved forward to the future. One where what lay ahead was unpredictable but he kept moving despite everything, one where he was free and intended to liberate those others, too.
In the end, he was everything they weren't, and as they perched atop a rooftop overlooking the college campus, their black attire stood out in the sunlight, forcing them to step back. Still standing on both soles of their boots, they let their hand drift to the sky, covering the rays from blinding their sight, leaks of radiation peering through the cracks between their exposed hand. What a wondrous summer it was shaping up to be. The temperature was just right, yet she stood still, still admiring the scenery of their hand blocking out the sun, locked in place as if chained down by something; standing. Standing…
~I suck at my job, don't I?~ They thought to themselves, closing one eye and letting a singular dark pupil poke out, they dropped their head yet again, a dejected sigh bursting out from their lips.
Strutting alongside the edge of the rooftop, they extended their reach with their arms pushing out each direction of their body, air sending spiky locks back with the flow of spring, they thought as they balanced against the verge…
~More flashbacks. How annoying~ They thought, as the world's sounds and scenery drowned out to be replaced by a past event, one horrible thing they'd rather not relive; yet… the past always seems to reveal itself when buried deep down, doesn't it?
~All my life, I've been a victim to this sorta shit, just a little irrelevant being that should suffer the same fate as those who perished five years ago; just for existing and rebelling against this corrupt society. Mother, Father… because I never lived up to their expectations, I suffered for it, because I was the oldest. And because of that, you burdened all your worries onto me, after all, that was my responsibility- wasn't it? Who was it always my fault? Why was I the one who had to burden it all, not for my sake, but for everyone else's just because they were too cowardly to blame themselves and take responsibility for once~
A mother yelling at a daughter, a slap from a father causing their nose to bleed before hitting the ground, more of their blood splattering to the wooden floorboards.
Punched over and over again, fists protruding into their gut, more blood.
A bloodied head against a steering wheel with one in the passenger seat, a glass shard stabbed through their head; MORE BLOOD.
In the end, it went on over and over again, a maniacal cycle of hatred cast onto themselves, not for any sins they committed, but because those responsible were too immature to take the burden of being adults. Childish as they were, blaming an innocent child for incidents out of their control to further their goal, just to make their own selves feel better about their own insecure lives. In the end, as they crouched against the rooftop's verge once again, they analyzed the way he limped, the doors opening for him, Callum vanished within the interior of the main dorm building, and they were left here, just… here.
~I joined the United States Military because I wanted to protect people after causing so much damage. In the end, I caused more bad than good, and I was responsible for a nation-wide cover up involving wiping the Government's ass after they slaughtered millions. I wanted to… protect people. In the end, if that's what I want, I should choose, shouldn't I? No, I guess it's more like I want to make up for everything I did 'wrong' in the past. But, did I really do anything 'wrong' per se in the eyes of myself? I guess, in the end, it's my choice, isn't it, Cal? To walk beside you and follow your dream with stars in my eyes the same as you or walk this bloody road~ Rizia thought silently to themselves, the flapping of wings entering their ears, their head jerking to the right, they observed the sight before them; one of a pigeon just stood there.
Casually hopping around with a grey-blue hide, Kosuke reached over to touch against its head with the tip of her exposed finger, but just then, it was pushed backward by a shockwave propelled outward from a spreading of wings. Soaring above the Heavens, higher than any summit could possibly hope to reach, those creatures flew above the clouds, with god-given gifts, it was almost mystical as they knew… right then and there, it was their choice. Humans were selfish creatures, there was no doubt about it. With all intents and purposes, the 'right' option for most people would be that of the bloody one. The 'best' benefits were held there at the end of the road, millions of dollars for committing to such a dirty job, one ridden with moral sacrifices. Such a risky life-long task risked giving up your humanity to have the chance to reach 'ultimate power' when the right chance came. Furthermore, Rizia looked to the sky, and sighed,
~The 'right' choice, huh?~
The wings that will grant those chosen the ability to soar high above the Heavens where even the jurisdiction of God mattered not. Who would be the one to don such a legendary artifact? As Callum felt the door lock into place as he entered his dorm, he stripped off all clothing, and revealed himself, outer chest, the right burns only spread to such a point over his skinny chest, as his gloved fingers scraped across his pale skin, he slicked his messy whiteness back. Blind in one eye and red in another, he couldn't help but sigh as he gazed at himself in the mirror,
"Well, what can you do? I can only hope things go the way they do. And if they do, I'll be the one who's King," He whispered with the regular rasp-sounding vocalization audible in his tone, sitting on his blakented mattress, he rubbed at his neck after calmly exhaling, "Justice will be served; if it's the last thing I do."
In the end, this is a story of righteousness and justice.
To Be Continued…