where impossible flowers grow

''where impossible flowers grow'' (set: $endCFC to false) (set: $endNikkouren to false) (set: $endToshima to false) (set: $skip to false) //"... Why?" Keisuke's voice was a feeble whisper. "Why did things end up like this? Why did this happen to us?" Akira had asked himself the same question. Where had it all gone wrong? But he knew that no matter how hard he tried, he would never find an answer that satisfied him. There was no way to change the past. In which case - "Maybe it had to be us."// [[Start|Actual Start]]

The sound of a loud horn blowing jolts you awake. You were dreaming, you think, but you can barely remember what it was about. Your chest aches, probably from coughing in your sleep. It's gotten so much worse as of late. Still, your mind feels fuzzy as you take in your surroundings and try to remember what you were doing before you fell asleep. Your body feels weak, but that's hardly new. It's harder and harder to stay strong recently, but you do your best to keep going on. It's what you have to do. There's no other choice. ... Right. You're on a freighter, going back to Japan. A sense of yearning had urged you back, even though it hasn't been your home in a very long time. [[You've been on the run for almost three years now.]]

It's odd to think about. Most of the time, it feels like you've been running for much longer than that. At first, a man traveled alongside you, someone who you think you might consider a friend. He was very helpful in leading you out of Toshima as the first bombs fell, decimating an already ruined city. After everything you'd been through, the whole of Japan felt rotten. Escaping the country felt like the natural progression of things. You had no loyalty towards a country that betrayed you, used you and hurt you. As long as you kept moving forward, you were sure that you'd be okay. And, for a while, things were fine. The man was unbelievably strong and fast - basically superhuman - and was able to get you both out of many tight squeezes and difficult situations. He taught you how to sneak onto airplanes and boats without being noticed, which is how you got out of Nikkouren in the first place. [[But you didn't stay together for long.]]

You understood each other well enough - as well as two men who were essentially strangers could understand one another. Your memories of Project Nicole came back at a slow trickle, as did the man's emotions as you slowly encouraged him to open up. (Sometimes it felt like you were leading him blindly. Emotions were never your strong point.) Things were normal for around six months, maybe. You were on the mainland at that point, traveling from country to country to avoid law enforcement. Even with a war going on, the CFC wanted to retrieve you both at any cost. Then, suddenly, the man said that you needed to part ways. When you asked him why, he slowly shook his head. "It's time for me to find my own destiny, my own future. [[You found your color long ago.|"It's already been predetermined. You found your color long ago."]]"

(if: $skip is true) [ ''[[Skip to choice|CHOICE]]'' (if: $endCFC and $endNikkouren is true) [ (set: $endToshima to true) ] ] ... Someone's crying in the cot next to yours. It's in the middle of the night. You think it would have stopped by now, but it hasn't. What's it been... two months since he came here? Most of the other kids have adapted. But not him; he still misses his parents so terribly that he cries every night. You roll over on your side and look at him. His hands are covering his face - it seems like he really is trying to stay quiet, but his emotions are too much for him to suppress. "Hey," you whisper harshly. He whimpers and rubs his eyes, turning his head towards you. "I'm sorry," he says. "I wanna go home." You frown at him. "This is our home now. We don't have anyplace else to go." Big, wet tears stream down his face. "It's so scary here. I don't like it." You sigh. "No one does. But we have to get used to it." The boy in the cot next to yours sniffles, facing you directly. [["I don't want to get used to it."]]

"It's just how things are," you tell him. "You have to chin up or you're not going to survive." This doesn't make him stop crying, and he doesn't seem to take your words to heart. He curls in on himself. "I miss my mommy and daddy," he weeps. "I really want to go back." "You can't go back anymore." You're not exactly sure why you do it. It just feels like the right thing to do. [[You extend your hand between your cots.]]

He blinks, his lip trembling as he stares at your hand. "Akira?" "This is your home. Our home." Your hand sways slightly in the air. "We can't go back, so we should stay together." He stares at you, uncertain. You feel something bubble in your stomach. It makes you slightly irritated, you think. You don't have another explanation for the warm, mildly uncomfortable feeling. "I don't like seeing you scared." He hesitates, scrutinizing you for a moment, and eventually reaches out his fingers to lock with yours. "That means I'm home when I'm with you," he says. The smile crossing his face is weak, but there. "... If that makes you stop crying." You squeeze his hand tightly. He exhales softly, his smile widening. His warm brown eyes narrow just a little. [["I'll try not to cry if you're here with me."|Common Route 2]]

When he turned his back and hopped on a train going in the opposite direction, you rubbed your thumb over the ace of spades dog tag in your jacket pocket. It was sad to watch him go, and you felt lonely, but you knew deep down that he was right. You needed to forge your own paths away from each other. You were two opposites that couldn't meet. And, it would have been bad if the CFC had gotten hold of both of you at once. In the end, it was necessary to part ways. (In retrospect, you think your loneliness existed before he left. Having company could be nice, if it was a person you got along with...) By then, the weather was growing colder. You thought nothing of it when your chest felt heavy as you went to bed that evening. You were coming down with a cold, you thought. Then, you coughed. [[It tasted floral and sickly sweet.]]

You stubbornly moved forward, ignoring the heavy weight in your chest. The petals you started coughing up a few weeks later were small and thin enough that you could pretend they were mucus - a strange, off-colored mucus, but the body does odd things when it is ill, and who knows what odd things Project Nicole did to your body when you were a child. You remembered bits and pieces as time went on - injections, rigorous physical training, mental conditioning, Keisuke there through all of it - but you figured it was quite possible that there was more that you'd never remember. For years, you traveled. You hopped trains, snuck onto cargo ships, slept under bridges and awnings. Occasionally, you would find an abandoned house for shelter, but you never stayed for too long out of fear that the remnants of Project Nicole would find you. It wasn't a glamorous life, but it was yours. It is yours. Yours alone. Nobody else's. ... And then, finally, you saw the headline on a newspaper. You only vaguely could understand the language, but you could read well enough to know this much: the civil war in Japan was finally over. Nikkouren won. [[Your first thought was that you could finally go home.]]

The thought was odd at first, even though you knew that your thoughts were genuine. Why was it so important to go back? You left everything behind a very long time ago. Even so, something drew your mind towards Japan, attracting your focus like a laser-pointer whenever your thoughts wandered. Maybe it was nostalgia. At this point, the dog tag in your jacket pocket had grown so worn that all of the black paint had chipped off, revealing a dull grey steel underneath. You held onto it tightly each night as you coughed fitfully. It was one of your few remaining comforts. Maybe you were lonely. You didn't - don't - have anyone to go back to in Japan, especially since you caught wind that Motomi is traveling abroad as a journalist now, but there's something to be said about familiar scenery. Familiar faces and voices and greetings. Familiar patterns, how days sometimes blended together since you knew what you could expect... Comfortable days that you never knew that you'd miss until they were gone. It took some planning and careful monitoring of your tracks - you had to be absolutely certain that you were no longer being followed as closely as you used to be. But, after several months of going from country to country, tracing your footsteps back towards the island on which you were born, you decided that it was safe enough. You didn't sense anybody on your heels. You were finally free, maybe. You were going home. You //are// going home. [[After all this time, you're finally going back to Japan. Alone.]]

The freighter blows its horn once more, and you double over coughing, putting your hand over your mouth. Something moves in your lungs. You aren't sure whether you should feel disgusted or grateful. Probably a bit of both. Better out than in, even though the petals feel like razors on your windpipe. Finally, you cough one up. Then two. You grimace and spit them out into your hand. [[Two heads of aster flowers sit in your hand, fully formed.]]

A cold chill runs through your body. It's gotten worse. You might not have much time... ... No. You can't give up yet. You'd only ever heard of hanahaki in fairy tales; nobody you'd ever known had come down with the disease. This could be something else entirely. There may not be any logical explanation for it, but hanahaki isn't a logical explanation, either. You don't have feelings for anybody, you figure. There's nobody alive that you're that close to. Even in fairy tales, you'd never heard of anybody loving the dead this dearly. You click your tongue and throw the flowers to the side. They don't make a sound as they hit the metal wall, falling unceremoniously to the floor. Besides, there are other things you need to worry about right now, like getting off of the freighter and into Japan safely. Struggling, you get on your feet, resting your arm against the side of the freighter for purchase. The lapping of water against the boat is faint. You think the boat must have docked while you were lost in your thoughts. There's no time for idle thought now. [[Tense, you press your back up against the wall and listen.]]

It's hard to tell, but you think that it must be late. The artificial light filling the underbelly of the freighter makes it difficult to discern the time of day. You don't hear any signs of crew members or laborers. By your best estimation, it seems as if all the unloading will be done in the morning. This might be an odd stroke of luck, but you're going to take it. You decide that it's worth the risk to try to sneak out of the freighter instead of waiting. You might get caught either way; better get it over with when things seem quiet. Cautiously, on high alert, you weave through stacked containers filled with cargo. You approach the stairwell and frown, closing your eyes to focus on the sound. There's only the ocean, rocking gently against hard, immovable metal. You wonder how a vessel like this can float when it should clearly sink. [[Shaking your head, you ascend the stairs.]]

Thankfully, the door at the top can be unlocked from the inside. You wrap your hand in the sleeve of your jacket and pull open the door. The air is thick with salt. It burns your sore lungs. You gulp down a coughing fit, covering your mouth with your hand, as you close the door behind you. A warm breeze blows through your hair. You've traveled a lot the past three years. As far as you can tell, most docks look the same. They're a liminal space, often nondescript and interchangable. If it weren't for the signs plastered at the end of the pier, you could imagine yourself anywhere. But, for some reason, a part of you feels an odd sense of peace. You're home. [[... Maybe.|CHOICE]]

There's still a matter of where to go. You've landed in the new capital of Japan, in a city that you've never been to before. Three years ago, this was Nikkouren territory. It's decently close to the old CFC. There was some talk about rebuilding Toshima, from what you heard, but you also heard that it's completely uninhabitable now, even moreso than it was three years ago. It's all Japan now, you figure, but the memories of what once was tug at you. Something burns inside of you. You cringe and try to quell the rattling in your lungs. It occurs to you that this might be the end of the road. You snort bitterly. You might not know what's wrong with you, what's been making you increasingly sick over the past few years, but you can sense that your body is starting to give up, as much as your soul doesn't want to. With a heavy sigh, you climb down the side of the freighter and land with a gentle thud on the dock. A choice sits in front of you. [[The CFC was your home. It's only right that you go back.]] [[Nikkouren is as good a place as any. This is your home now.]] (if: $endToshima is true) [ [[Your home is elsewhere.]] ]

Of course. You have no ties to this place. Your memories of growing up in the CFC might be mixed at best, but they're still //yours//. Thankfully, at the end of the dock, there are very clear instructions to get to the train station. There should be a bullet train to the other half of the country... at least, you're pretty sure it existed before the war. You fish in your pockets. You still have your forged passport and you think you have enough cash to get on the train. You'll deal with what comes after when you get there. [[To your relief, the rail that the bullet train runs on was not destroyed in the war.]]

It's probably best if you stay here. You don't think Keisuke would have liked it if you went back. He would have wanted you to keep moving forward. It's best to not dwell on the past. ... You start walking, making sure to be on high alert as you walk down the empty pier. Thankfully, nobody seems to notice you. It would be awful if you were caught now, now that you're so close to finally being home again. [[The sun is starting to rise.]]

No. There's only one place that is really your home. [[You start running, fighting against your body, against your borrowed time.]]

Warm reds and oranges contrast with the hue of the ocean, which almost looks pastel blue in this light. The world around you gains more color, filling your senses. You never used to pay much attention to such things, but it's a nice morning. Pretty, even. You're not sure if it always looked this way, or maybe reconstruction efforts changed things, but Nikkouren looks so much more beautiful than you imagined. The pier ends and a road in front of you begins, opening up to the capital of Nikkouren. Of Japan in general. Somehow, it feels smaller than you were expecting. More nostalgic. The old capital was bombed during the civil war, so this is what replaced it. [[You think it's nice enough, even if it's not the same.|You think it's nice enough.]]

The city starts to wake. Small restaurant and bakery owners start flipping their signs and opening their doors, indicating that they're ready for business. For now, it's quiet as you walk through the city, but there's a hum in the air as early birds start coming out of their apartments to breathe in this fresh spring morning. Keisuke used to sleep in, you think to yourself wryly. You were always awake before him. You wonder if he ever even saw mornings like this; he told you that his boss at the factory was sometimes cross with him for clocking in a few minutes late. You can still hear Keisuke's sheepish voice in your mind: //But he's a good man, really! It just sucks to get yelled at.// You clear your throat and pat your chest. [[Keisuke was always like that, trying to see the good in people.]]

You get the feeling that he'd like it here. It's a fresh, new home, without baggage or pain. If you squint, you can almost see him blending into the scenery. Over there, he's thanking the older lady at the bakery as he buys some fresh bread. He sits on a park bench, admiring the changing colors of the sky. His blue coveralls are covered in grease and he waves to you as he unlocks the door to a mechanic's shop, off to start another day at work. He's smiling. He's happy. Everything is okay. This is a world where he could have flourished. [[Something ticklish and irritating rubs against your lungs.]]

You grasp onto a nearby railing and cough, trying to ignore the petals filling your mouth. They taste bitter and faintly metallic. It's mostly pieces and not full flowers this time... although one half-destroyed head makes its way out between your lips. Thankfully, nobody seems to be paying attention when you throw the dyed-red asters to the ground. You wipe your hand on your dirty jeans and sigh, catching your breath. You close your eyes, inhaling deeply through your nose and slowly out your mouth. It's... fine. (You know it's not fine, but there's nothing you can do about it. You can't seem to stop whatever is causing this mysterious illness, so the best you can do is adapt.) Something brushes against your pant leg. Startled, you jump and look down. [[A black cat is staring up at you with wide, innocent eyes.]]

You always had a soft spot for cats. Even though your chest hurts, you feel the corners of your mouth lift slightly as you crouch down to its level. "Hey there. Sorry, I don't have any food." The cat tilts its head at you and flicks the tip of its tail, seemingly curious. Cautiously, you reach out your hand. //You reached out your hand...// Purring softly, the cat lifts up its head and leans its face into your palm, nuzzling against you. Your eyes narrow fondly and you smile, scratching its ears and stroking along the top of its head. "Are you all alone?" you ask. You aren't expecting an answer, and it doesn't give one. It presses its body against your leg, leaning into you hard as you pet it. The cat seems to enjoy the attention you're giving it. It's friendly, but you wonder how many others ignore or spurn this cat. Strays without families are often unloved. ... You lift your hand off of its back and stand, suddenly uncertain. It sits by your feet and wags its tail in a circle, expectant. "There's nothing more I can give," you say. The cat flattens its ears against the back of its head, but seems to understand and not begrudge you for it. It stands on all four paws and walks away, off towards the docks. [[You notice it has a scar on its leg.]]

[[The white cat is no longer with it. It is alone.]]

... Keisuke was asleep while the black cat was healing, but you think he'd probably be happy if he knew that the cat is still alive. He hated seeing innocent things suffering. He hated suffering in general, really. It's... good that it's still alive. It's good that it has a new home, you think. This is a much better place for it than Toshima. You consider chasing after the cat, just for a moment, but what good would that do? The cat has survived just fine on its own until now. It looks a little scrawny, but it has thrived despite the odds. It'll be fine. [[Your hand lingers in the air as it turns a corner, walking out of sight.]]

[[You find yourself staring at its back even long after it's gone.]]

The city fully comes to life as you stand still, waiting for a specter of the past that will never return. It has gone to better places... and so should you. ... It's surprisingly easy to blend in with the crowd. You thought that, maybe, your arrival in Japan would draw lots of unwanted attention, but you've seemed to avoid detection for now. You don't know how long it'll last. A day? A week? You guess you'll take what you can get. There isn't a cloud in the sky. The world feels so full of - everything. Children laugh as they play in a nearby park, birds sing as they fly overhead, the whizzing of the occasional car is brisk on your jacket as you walk along the side of the main street. [[It really is... a beautiful day.]]

So why... (after:2s,2s)[ (transition: "dissolve") [ [[does it feel like something is missing?]] ] ]

You wander aimlessly through the capital with no particular destination in mind. This might be your home, at least by technicality, but it still is fairly foreign to you. You have no idea where to go or what to do. You just... really wanted to come here, as if something in your heart drew you forward. Subconsciously, you reach your hand towards your jacket and pull out Keisuke's dog tag. Your body relaxes slightly when it's in your hand. Vaguely, you can remember it being cold from the rain, and - ... It's not cold anymore. It retains your body heat. You've rubbed your thumb against the engravings so often that they're worn and difficult to read if you don't know what you're looking for - but you do. You can still see the tip of the spade if you squint. It's funny. [[Keisuke always thought so little of himself, but he had the most powerful card in the deck.]]

You clench your fist around the thin piece of metal and set your jaw. ... It's not right that this is loose. You might not have a lot of money at the moment, but you should be able to afford a simple chain. You can't lose this. [[You don't want to let go.]]

After wandering for a while longer, you finally find a pawn shop. "Good afternoon!" the middle-aged man from behind the counter says. "Is there anything I can help you with today?" You feel your lips twitch slightly. "Ah, yeah." The dog tag is still in your hand. You present it to him - a potentially risky move, but you bank on the fact that Igura is either long-forgotten here or was never known at all. "I'd like a chain for this." He frowns, looking it over. "It doesn't look like anything special." A flare of anger jolts up from the pit of your stomach. "It's important to me," you tell him. "Do you want my business or not?" He puts up his hands. "Sorry, sorry, my mistake. I would perhaps suggest something nicer to put on a chain, but I can certainly find something that will work for you either way." [[You hold onto the dog tag and roll it along your palm as he looks through the display case.]]

It doesn't look like there's much there that would be appropriate for a piece of jewelry this tattered and worn... and you don't really think that Keisuke really liked flashy stuff all that much. It's not exactly your style, either. Finally, the shop owner pulls out a simple, thin silver chain. "Does this suit you, sir?" Carefully, you thread the dog tag on the chain. It looks nice. "Yeah," you say after a moment. He gives you his price, and you accept it, pulling out some of your last remaining bills from your pocket. You figure it's probably worth it. You haven't felt hungry in a very long time - the taste of flowers is too much - and there is nowhere else for you to go now. You slip the chain over your neck. The dog tag rests over your heart. Satisfied, you tuck it into your shirt, letting it rest against your skin. As you turn to go, the owner's voice rings out in the shop. [["Did you lose someone in the war?"]]

You turn to him, unsure how to answer that question. "Well... we all lost someone, most likely," the man says, seemingly ashamed of asking something so brazen. You nod and hesitate in the doorway before leaving, the bell chiming as you go. "Did I lose someone..." [[The dog tag resting against your heart feels warm.]]

Your body feels very weak. Maybe it's the lack of sleep, or the lack of food, or the strange illness filling your chest, but you need to rest for a while. You could potentially get some water and a solid with what money you have remaining, but you don't see much of a point. All things end eventually. Probably. You find yourself in a park filled with cherry trees in full bloom. You sit down by the one closest to you and rest against the trunk, letting out a long, ragged sigh. [[A tangle of clumped petals slide up the back of your tongue even without coughing.]]

You spit it up and cough, and once you start, you find it difficult to stop. You squint your eyes shut and wheeze, full flowers falling from your mouth as you struggle for air. It's suffocating. When you finally are able to take in a deep breath, you find that your lap is covered in bloody asters. Ah... You rest your head against the trunk and stare up at the sakura blossoms above you. Keisuke always smelled really nice, didn't he...? (after:4s,4s)[ (transition: "dissolve") [ [[Like flowers...]] ] ]

You can't remember what kind anymore. Just that being around him was always... comforting. Warm. Safe. You could always be yourself around him, and he'd never think less of you or look down on you. As another wave of aching pain shoots through your lungs, you wonder if he would have accepted this about you as well. If he would have tried to help you. ... Of course he would. He followed you to the ends of the earth. He followed you into hell. [[He went where nobody should go, all for you.]]

Your vision's starting to dim. This... was not how you thought you would go. Weakly, with all your remaining strength, you clutch onto your chest, feeling the shape of the dog tag underneath your shirt. It's still there. [[But it's not enough, and never will be.]]

You can't feel your fingers and toes anymore. Your sense of hearing is tinny and far away. Even the sakura blossoms, transient and beautiful, look like they're so far out of reach that you could never dream of touching them. Covered in asters, brilliant blue underneath the slick red of your blood, you feel your body slump to the side. [[Keisuke also died from a grievous wound in the chest.]]

Your last thoughts are of the weight of his body in your arms, how you felt his warmth wash away with the rain, just as your warmth dissipates into the fresh spring air. (set: $endNikkouren to true) (set: $skip to true) ''Ending 2 - a nostalgic scent'' [[Restart?|Actual Start]]

It's another hour before the first train pulls into the station, but you're able to board and buy your ticket with little fanfare once it does. The attendant barely gives you a second glance as you sit in a window seat and lean into the armrest, staring at the mostly-empty station as the first commuters of the day file in. The train is largely empty when it leaves the station, zipping along the tracks quickly. It's... nice that these are running again. You'd never traveled outside of the CFC before, so you had never actually visited Nikkouren when you were younger or ridden on a train before running away from Toshima, but there's something that almost feels nostalgic about riding on a train. [[Japan spreads out in front of you.]]

The city melts away into suburbs, which then transform into desolate wastelands. But even here there is growth starting to sprout from underneath. Crushed, ruined buildings have trees growing out of them. Vines and weeds cover broken sidewalks and sprout out of cracked asphalt. You think you even see a small family of deer at one point, but they rush behind an abandoned house before you can be too sure. You have a ways to go until you get home, and you're feeling tired. [[You curl against the window and close your eyes.]]

... He's sniffling again. You sit up in your cot, swinging your legs over the side. You know that you're not that great at comforting people, and don't really know where to start. (Do you want to comfort him, or do you just want him to stop crying so you can sleep?) He must sense your eyes on his back, since he too sits up, although he does not face you. "Sorry," he says, his voice thick with snot. "Still miss your parents?" Keisuke shakes his head. "No... well, yeah. But that's not why I was crying." You stare at him blankly, waiting for him to finish, and he turns his face to you. It's red with quiet tears, and he looks ashamed. [["I hate being so weak. I'm not strong like you."]]

You huff softly to yourself. "We're definitely not the strongest kids in the program. I wouldn't call myself 'strong' in comparison to some of the others." "Mmm... maybe." Keisuke wipes his eyes. "But there's just... [[something]] about you, you know?"

"It's not just your body that's stronger than mine. It's your heart, too." You kick your legs against the side of the cot. "I don't know about that." His gaze wavers towards his hands and he chews his lip, which has started to tremble again. "Hey." Keisuke turns his face to look at you again. "You're still alive, aren't you? That proves that you're strong enough." Keisuke takes a deep breath in and clutches onto his blanket. "Yeah... maybe." Even in the darkness, you can see that his knuckles are white. You try to find the right words. "... You never chose this." His eyebrows knit, confused. "But you're still here. And you don't accept it either. So many of the others have completely forgotten where they came from, but you hold on to what's important to you." Keisuke opens his mouth, but before he can say anything, you continue. [["That's true strength. Don't sell yourself short."]]

The moon peeks through the clouds and illuminates his face, and you can see the awe clear as day in his expression. You squirm a little. "I..." He wipes away a few stray tears on his cheeks. "... Okay." In this light, he looks small and alone. You've never liked seeing Keisuke like this. From the first time you met, the first night when he arrived in the testing facility, with his head shaved and red face, you've hated seeing him in despair. None of this is fair, but it's especially unfair to him. Why the grown-ups thought he'd be good for war is completely beyond you. "Besides." You reach out your hand. [["Didn't you say you'd never cry when I was around?"]]

Keisuke looks shocked for a solid five seconds before his face melts into a wide grin. "You remembered?" You feel your cheeks burning. It was nice looking at Keisuke a second ago, but now it feels slightly uncomfortable - something in your gut is tingling. "Guess so." [[He holds onto your hand and squeezes tight.]]

The sensation of the train coming to a halt is what wakes you up. You're at the last stop, end of the line. You're back in the CFC after all this time. Your throat feels raw. You brush scattered blue petals from your jeans and stand, exiting the train with the rest of the passengers. [[The town where you lived last is a twenty minute walk from here. You get going.]]

Even though you hadn't walked on this particular road before in the past, something about it feels familiar. This part of the CFC always felt more developed than what you briefly saw of Nikkouren - more industrial and grey. There aren't as many trees here, and all of the walls that still remain standing are covered in graffiti. You close your eyes, walking forward. [[It was such a mundane thing back then, walking on streets like this.]]

It's... so strange thinking that it's a thing that you miss now. (after:3s,3s)[ (transition: "dissolve") [You never thought you'd miss something that you did every day. [[You never realized how normal it was to spend every day with Keisuke, until...]] ] ]

You lean against a telephone pole and cough //hard//, two tangled asters falling to the ground in a puddle of blood after a minute of hacking. With a shaky sigh, you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. It's covered in blood. ... (after:3s,3s)[ (transition: "dissolve") [ [[You have to keep going.]] ] ]

You've never felt this tired before. Every step forward is a strain on your weakening body. But still... you need to keep moving. You need to go back home. You reach into your jacket pocket and take out the ace of spades dog tag. [[That's what you promised. You have to keep your promise.]]

You trudge forward, squeezing onto the dog tag tightly, like it's a holy object. It might as well be. There's not much else left in the world that you hold dearly - it's your most prized possession, your one tie back to the past. You have to remember where you came from. It made you who you are now. And you can't give up. [[You can't...]]

(after:2s,2s)[ (transition: "dissolve") [ It takes far longer than twenty minutes to get to your hometown, but you suppose that's to be expected. The sun shines directly overhead, casting a harsh shadow below you. Even so, you pull your hoodie up over your head. It's very possible that most people have forgotten you - Bl@ster fame was fickle, after all, and it's been three years - but you'd rather not draw any undue attention. You have no idea if the old charges against you are still valid or if they have been dropped, but it's better to not tempt fate.] ] (after:5s,5s)[ (transition: "dissolve") [ You remember the shocked look on Keisuke's face as they took you away. ... [[The city isn't exactly as you remembered it.]] ] ]

Looks like the war got to it a bit. Makes enough sense. It's fairly close to the border, everything considered, and Toshima was, once again, an absolute warzone. Nothing was left unscathed, you suppose. Some of your frequent haunts are gone - either in ruins, completely demolished, or rebuilt from scratch to the point where they're unrecognizable. The corner store where you used to get your meager groceries. The local cinema. With a grim smirk, you realize the police station is gone. ... But so is the factory at the edge of town. [[So is your apartment building.]]

A sharp pain shoots through your chest as you stand in the empty lot where your apartment used to be. ... It's stupid. It was just a building. It was just a room. Nothing that you left behind was important. You shouldn't feel sentimental over it - you certainly didn't care for it much when you lived there. It served its duty, nothing more. [[And yet...]]

[[It still hurts to see it gone.]]

You're not sure where else to go at first. This is the truest, most literal definition of "home", and it's gone forever. You consider a moment what to do next. (after:2s,2s)[ (transition: "dissolve") [ ... ] ] (after:4s,4s)[ (transition: "dissolve") [ Then, it hits you. There was one place where you spent more time than anyplace else. There is one place remaining that you could still reasonably call home. It might be risky, but... What else do you have to lose at this point? [[You can still taste the blood in your mouth, so you figure...]] ] ]

... Well. A part of you is impressed that your legs still have the muscle memory to bring you back. You walk along the road, which is mostly empty. It doesn't seem as if this town is as bustling as it used to be when you lived here. People have moved on. You were supposed to move on a long time ago, but you're no longer convinced that you have. A flicker of memory echoes in the back of your mind. [[It keeps going back to Keisuke, for some reason.]]

You remember the day that he got his one and only girlfriend. He was so nervous that day. His eyes were everywhere but on you. You can remember how he would push back his cuticles as a nervous habit, and how he rubbed his sweaty palms on his coveralls. He deserved to have someone who loved him, you thought. He would do better out in the world with someone by his side at all times. So, you said what was in your heart: [["Good for you."]]

... Was it really a good thing, in retrospect? It didn't last all that long. Which is odd... (after:4s,4s)[ (transition: "dissolve") [ You remember him smelling like perfume a lot after that. You thought it was because of his girlfriend, maybe, but even afterwards, you could often catch the scent of something light and floral underneath all the grease and oil. [[It didn't matter to you. Keisuke was still Keisuke, and that's all you needed at the time.]] ] ]

Finally, you arrive at your destination. The Bl@ster arena is still going strong, with dozens of people milling about as they wait for a new match to begin. It looks like there's mostly new blood... Probably to be expected. More than a few Bl@ster participants went to Toshima to compete in Igura, and there's just been a war. Everybody looks so young, now. Did you look that young when you fought? [[You guess you're not a kid anymore.]]

Not that you exactly considered yourself one at the time, but... You make your way through the crowd, your shoulders weaving through jeering men covered in scars. You wonder if it's from the war, or if it's from playing war here. You wonder if any of these kids were forced to fight, or if they're blowing off steam from being forced to prepare for a war that they never were able to fight in. It's hard to find yourself when your whole identity has been forged around fighting. You yourself know that all too well. (after:5s,5s)[ (transition: "dissolve") [ [[Still...]] ] ]

There was always something that tethered you, prevented you from just being LOST, from just being 11298-TM-3099. You lean against the railing as two challengers square each other up. The referee stands a few meters back at the edge of the ring. You know this all too well. On the days that you didn't fight yourself, you were always here with Keisuke. He was always here with you, every day, even when he should have been exhausted from work. You haven't done manual labor before - Bl@ster seemed like the natural choice when you moved out on your own and you had never looked back - but you imagine that it was hard. And still, he was always there with you. [[The referee starts the match and the crowd goes wild.]]

You feel dizzy. You're having issues keeping track of the fighters' movements, of who's got the upper hand. It barely seems to matter. [[You're not watching this with Keisuke. He's gone.]]

You cough, doubling over the railing. "Hey, man," a rough voice says to your side. "You doing okay?" You're not okay. You can feel blood trickling out of your mouth. ... //Heh.// People aren't supposed to die in Bl@ster arenas. The game was specifically made to not be fatal. [[Guess the rules don't account for bystanders.]]

Soft, thin petals mix with the blood you cough up hopelessly. "Hey!" a voice screams from far away. "Get this guy out of here! He needs help!" "Oh, shit. Is that LOST? The fuck is he doing here?" [[The dog tag slips from your fingers, and you fall with it.]]

Everything blurs around you as all senses become dim and foggy, but one thought stays strong in your mind. You curse that your hands are weak, unable to hold tightly onto the only thing that matters anymore. You stare at the dog tag, pitiful and alone, until your vision goes black. (set: $endCFC to true) (set: $skip to true) ''Ending 1 - a familiar setting'' [[Restart?|Actual Start]]

It doesn't matter that you don't know where exactly you're going. You know roughly what direction you should be heading, and that's enough for now. You ignore the odd looks that normal people going about their normal lives give you as you run past them. After a while, it hurts to breathe. Your lungs are sore from coughing so much, especially in your sleep. But you keep going on, ignoring the pain as best as you can, and only take short breaks to get enough of your strength back to keep going on. There is no way that you're going to stop or give up this time. [[You have to go home.]]

If you push through, you find that it doesn't hurt so much. If you stop thinking, you notice that your lungs almost feel like they're normal. You can still feel the rattle of flowers within, but they don't feel like they urgently need to come out. That's good. You have to keep going. [[And so you do.]]

You run along highways that are mostly abandoned, and then those highways turn fully abandoned. They've been blocked off, no entry allowed. You ignore the warning signs and plow straight ahead, hopping the fence into forbidden territory. [[This is the only place where you belong anymore.]]

You should be impressed with what your body is doing. You've kept going for almost a full day. This should be impossible, but you've always been highly stubborn. All or nothing. [[Keisuke said that he always liked that about you.]]

And so, you have to follow this through to the end, no matter what. Since the end may be coming up close, this is your only chance. [[Toshima looks even worse than it did three years ago.]]

It's even hard to tell what zone you're entering, since the telltale sign at the CFC entrance has probably long since been torn down and destroyed. Still, you try to get your bearings as quickly as possible. It's probably foolish to expect that the greenhouse is still standing; it was a small miracle that it even stood after the third world war. So there must be another landmark to work off of. After wandering streets that are completely littered with rubble, to the point where it's sometimes hard to walk without falling into potholes or climbing over debris and skeletonized corpses, you find it. [[The cafe.]]

You must be getting close. ... But your body can't take it anymore. You wheeze, leaning against the ruined door, and exhale dozens of free-floating blue petals. You've worked so hard to get to this moment, ran for years just so you could come back home. [[You're not going to let a little pain stop you.]]

As you walk through the destroyed city, you completely understand why it's uninhabited. There's no possible way anything can live here. Everything is dead. Not even weeds want to grow between the cracks in the pavement, out from destroyed buildings. You think even the flies that ate at all of the corpses lying around have long gone. It's so quiet, but without the tense anticipation that you're used to. [[Toshima is a grave.]]

Perhaps for you too, but not until you allow yourself to let go of your body. [[There's still one thing left for you to do.]]

A nagging part of your brain tells you that you're being irrational. How will you be able to tell? It's been three years. A lot happens in that time. There's probably nothing there, anyway. And yet... you still have to see for yourself. With your own eyes. You need to remember. You need this more than you need air. [[You clutch on tightly to the dog tag in your pocket as you push forward.]]

The clouds above you break open. ... That's always the thing about Toshima. It's overcast and raining all the time. It's never sunny here. Maybe that's why everything is dead. Maybe that's why nothing survives here. Maybe //that's// what did Keisuke in, at the end of the day. (You know that it's partially - or mostly - your fault... but coming back here is an attempt to make amends. [[You owe him that much, at least.)]]

Far away, in the distance, the sun shines on the remains of a crumbled building. Your eyes widen. (after:5s,5s) [ (transition: "dissolve") [ [[It can't be...]] ] ]

With the last of your strength, you rush forward. It's unmistakable. There's... (after:2s,2s)[ (transition: "dissolve") [ [[flowers...]] ] ]

The small, blue, star-shaped flowers grow impossibly high. You've never seen forget-me-nots this tall before. They overtake the road, the remains of the office building... you've never seen anything like it. It's beautiful. It's... (after:4s,4s)[ (transition: "dissolve") [ [[horrifying.]] ] ]

In the middle of it all, he's there. There's little left to identify him but a few scraps of his blue coveralls and his skeleton. The forget-me-nots grow out strongest out of his chest, blooming wild and free. [[You fall to your knees.]]

You know better than to ask questions. Besides, you don't think Keisuke would have wanted you to. He always thought you had all the answers, even though you knew absolutely nothing. You sob, and a tumble of asters fall onto the ground in front of you, mixing with the forget-me-nots he had planted with his own body. Why did this happen to you? Why did this have to happen to //him//? [[You take in one long, deep breath.]]

"Maybe..." you say, picking a forget-me-not from his ribs and holding it tightly between your fingers... (after:2s,2s)[ (transition: "dissolve") [ "... it had to be us."] ] (after:6s,6s)[ (transition: "dissolve") [ ''True Ending: home is...'' [[Restart?|Actual Start]] ] ]