The Telling of One Billion Ghost Stories (draft) - Part 18
Trying to post these faster than my original once a week schedule for a while to make up for lost time (and catch up with everything I've been stockpiling in the meantime). We'll see how long this lasts for. ^^;
Other parts: The original ficlets, Plot notes, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Side Story 1
The next part of Kohane’s induction was to show her around. It wasn’t a very big job in a camp that small, but Fye never missed the rare chance to show off his solar panels to a new audience, and the new day found him still eager enough for any distraction to relish the simple task of showing off all the intricacies of the system he’d so carefully devised even more than usual. In fact, so involved was he that he went most of his explanation without ever noticing his listener was distracted for a whole other reason.
“…they’re a never-ending blight on my time for maintenance,” he was saying, patting a nearby panel with the fond expression of a long-suffering parent, “but that’s just the price we pay for trying to keep an array this size functioning in this day and age. We can’t go taking spare parts for granted.”
“It’s different from in the Complex,” Kohane offered, looking at Fye with an expression he took a few seconds too long to interpret correctly.
“Excuse me, but,” she went on, “you said you were called Fye? Fye Flowright?”
“Well yes, I…. oh,” said Fye, as realisation dawned on him all at once. He sat down heavily, landing on his own toolbox with a clatter. “Ah. Of course. When that’s where you’re from, I really should have thought I’d be recognised sooner, shouldn’t I? But it was so long ago now, well…”
“People still talk about what happened to you. Or, they did when I was there,” said Kohane, stuck in the awkward habits associated with things made recently past tense.
“They would, wouldn’t they?” said Fye, laughing humourlessly to himself as he stared up at the sky. “It’s not every day someone would come along to leave them a story like mine. Why, I’d wager some version of it must have reached every Complex in range - it’ll pass into legend well beyond my own lifetime! Even the history books might record it some day!”
“But… out here, it’s something very personal to you?” said Kohane. “I’m sorry if I’ve brought bad memories here, if it’s something I shouldn’t know.”
Fye patted her on the head affectionately. “It’s not your fault what you did or didn’t know. Nothing you need to apologise for. I’d appreciate it if you could keep that story to yourself though.”
“The others… don’t know about it?”
“We have a rule here,” Fye explained, coming back to himself a little, “that says the past doesn’t matter. It’s a sad sort of world we’re living in, it forces the best of us to go to measures we’d never have considered if we’d been born in better times. The least we can offer people here is some kind of fresh start. It might seem an awkward kind of rule, but we do our best by it.”
Kohane looked at him thoughtfully. “That rule would apply to me too?”
“It’s for everyone,” said Fye, raising an eyebrow, “but a girl your age couldn’t have much she’d need to leave behind, surely?”
“I don’t know,” said Kohane softly, “but it still feels like if I hadn’t ever gone to that Complex… if my mother hadn’t taken me there, everything that happened after…”
After Kohane’s silence had extended on for a minute, Fye ended it. “Ah. That kind of situation.”
“Mm,” said Kohane uncomfortably.
“Let me guess some more of it,” Fye offered. “Something big and terrible happened - something you never meant, but that wouldn’t ever have happened without you. And now I suppose it’s all very well for someone else to tell you not to blame yourself for what you didn’t cause, but it still feels like there must have been something more you should have done.”
Kohane looked up at him in surprise. “How did…?”
“Oh, my dear, it’s such a common tale,” Fye told her. “And rule or no rule, it sounds like you have the kind of story you’re going to want to share with someone before it all gets too much for you - when you feel up to telling it.”
Kohane nodded solemnly, and offered no argument against his advice.
***
Sakura was in the middle of carrying a slightly too large load of tools back to the lab building when a barely familiar voice behind her said, “Um…” at just the wrong moment.
When the cacophony of a lot of tools hitting the ground all on top of each other finally faded, Kohane gingerly stepped the rest of the way around the corner and said, “Sorry, I didn’t meant to startle you.”
Sakura shook her head vigorously from side to side. “No, it’s alright! It’s just that I wasn’t expecting anyone then, and…”
“…they’re all away from the camp somewhere or very busy,” Kohane finished for her. “The others don’t have anything for me to do now. They suggested I should see whether you needed any help with anything.”
Sakura tried to think quickly, but all that really resulted in was all her ideas colliding at once or running way from her. All she had to do just now was put these tools away - and while it would be very good to show Kohane where they all went if she might be helping out with the panels in the future, that would mean taking her into the lab, and she wasn’t supposed to see Chi until she’d been here a lot longer than a mere two days.
She was still wildly trying to come up with anything for Kohane to do (completely missing the point that a simple, ‘no, nothing I can think of just at the moment’ would have been a perfectly valid answer) when she realised Kohane wasn’t looking at her anymore. She’d been distracted by the sight of the woman who was standing a few paces away from the path Sakura had been taking to get back to the lab.
“Ah, she’s here early today,” she said out loud, surprised. Kohane turned back to her questioningly. “She often comes here to watch the sunset,” Sakura went on reassuringly. “There’s nothing to worry about, she doesn’t bother anyone and she’ll go again when the sun sets, and…” she paused suddenly and threw both hands over her mouth as realisation attacked her out of nowhere. “You… you can see her too? Really?”
Kohane nodded. “Then you also see ghosts, like me and Kimihiro?”
“You knew that he…” Sakura started, then stopped herself again. “Oh, of course - but everyone knows he does. All the stories about the April Fool.”
“We didn’t have those stories in the Complex,” said Kohane. “The first time I ever heard any of them was yesterday - but I think I knew something about Kimihiro even before that, when he came to find me. He said something before about meeting someone else like him. I didn’t realise you were the one he meant.”
“I’m not quite like him though,” Sakura admitted sadly. “He can hear what the ghosts are telling him, but I can only see them. Can you…?”
“I’m the same,” Kohane told her. “They can’t talk to me either.”
“You grew up in a Complex too, didn’t you?” Sakura asked suddenly. “Did you ever see… ah, but it was a different Complex, wasn’t it? Things were probably different there.” She trailed off, leaving her listener blinking at her and trying to catch what she could possibly have meant.
“There were ghosts there,” Kohane suggested, “mostly the same kinds you’d see out here. Often, the people there took me places they thought ghosts would be and asked me to describe what I saw. They would try to use devices they’d made to tell them where the ghosts were. A lot of times they’d examine my eyes or use scans that would show them in inside of my head. Was… any of that sort of thing what you meant?”
“Nothing like that at all!” Sakura gasped. “When I was there, I was terrified to ever let any of the adults know what I saw. All I ever knew was that no-one else saw them but me, and so I was so sure seeing them at all must be something terribly wrong.”
“You may have right not to tell them,” said Kohane. “You would have been a lot younger than me when you left?”
Sakura nodded sadly. “Syaoran and I both were. It was years ago.”
“About Syaoran,” Kohane began. “I meant to ask Kimihiro, but I didn’t have the chance yet…”
“You mean the ghosts around him, don’t you?” said Sakura. She didn’t really see Kohane’s answering nod, but she didn’t need to. “He can’t see or feel them, but they’ve been with him ever since that day we left. Sometimes I think they’re fading as time goes by, but others… I don’t think they’ll ever leave.”
“Some ghosts never stop haunting the same place,” Kohane agreed. “I never knew whether it was wrong, what we can do. It always seemed that if it drew such bad attention and if there was nothing I could do to help them, there wasn’t any good that could come of seeing the dead. But it’s different for Kimihiro. If the dead hadn’t guided him there, no-one would have come to get me, and it meant so much to him to have found someone else who was like him, and to have been able to help.”
Sakura nodded vigorously. “It’s like that for him. With the ghosts to help him, he’s been able to find so many useful things for us since he came here.”
“I wonder if we could ever find a way to make what we can do as helpful as that,” said Kohane softly.
“I’ve never thought of anything,” Sakura replied. “I just try to help out any other way I can. Oh, and I’m sure we’ll find ways you can too!”
“Is… there anything I can help you out with, then?” asked Kohane.
“All I’ve got to do now is put these tools away,” said Sakura, thinking rapidly. “But I don’t have to do all of that now. So maybe you could help me carry them all back to the lab, and I could start to show you how we have to clean the panels and things while it’s still light.”
***
Scavenging missions like this one usually meant Watanuki took on an uncharacteristic level of focus, but this time they were barely an hour out before he started to fidget uncontrollably. Doumeki could tell immediately it was going to be a long trip.
“She’s still going to be there when we get back,” he muttered over his shoulder.
Watanuki stiffened indignantly behind him, which didn’t actually make as much difference to his posture as it usually would have. “I’m supposed to be responsible for her, but instead, she’s only been around two days when I’m off for hours in the middle of nowhere. How is that supposed to count?”
“Leading these trips is responsibility of yours too,” Doumeki reminded him.
“I know, I know, but it’s not the same thing, is it? Since when do I wind up on trips like this twice inside of a week anyway?”
Doumeki thought for a moment. “There was that time the month before last…”
“But that was an exception too! ‘Almost never’ is close enough to never for this to be ridiculous.”
“You’re the expert,” Doumeki shrugged. “You tell me.”
“That was meant to be treated as a hypothetical question, you know,” Watanuki grumbled.
“Why do you bother asking at all if you don’t want an answer?”
“I’m sure I have no idea why I bother talking to you at all some days,” Watanuki complained bitterly.
‘Talking at’ would be the more accurate description in this case, Doumeki thought, but he kept it to himself.
“The others can take perfectly good care of her,” he said aloud, trying for reason for once. “Monopolising her attention isn’t going to help her settle in. Everyone knows how important these trips are. She isn’t going to hold it against you if you’re not there full time.”
“It doesn’t stop me feeling like I’ve failed somewhere though - like I’m supposed to be somewhere else.”
“You’re supposed to be here. You’re supposed to be giving me directions, too.”
“Lots and lots of straight ahead,” said Watanuki, still sounding petulant.
He was quiet after that, but he didn’t stop fidgeting for the rest of the trip.
Other parts: The original ficlets, Plot notes, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Side Story 1
The next part of Kohane’s induction was to show her around. It wasn’t a very big job in a camp that small, but Fye never missed the rare chance to show off his solar panels to a new audience, and the new day found him still eager enough for any distraction to relish the simple task of showing off all the intricacies of the system he’d so carefully devised even more than usual. In fact, so involved was he that he went most of his explanation without ever noticing his listener was distracted for a whole other reason.
“…they’re a never-ending blight on my time for maintenance,” he was saying, patting a nearby panel with the fond expression of a long-suffering parent, “but that’s just the price we pay for trying to keep an array this size functioning in this day and age. We can’t go taking spare parts for granted.”
“It’s different from in the Complex,” Kohane offered, looking at Fye with an expression he took a few seconds too long to interpret correctly.
“Excuse me, but,” she went on, “you said you were called Fye? Fye Flowright?”
“Well yes, I…. oh,” said Fye, as realisation dawned on him all at once. He sat down heavily, landing on his own toolbox with a clatter. “Ah. Of course. When that’s where you’re from, I really should have thought I’d be recognised sooner, shouldn’t I? But it was so long ago now, well…”
“People still talk about what happened to you. Or, they did when I was there,” said Kohane, stuck in the awkward habits associated with things made recently past tense.
“They would, wouldn’t they?” said Fye, laughing humourlessly to himself as he stared up at the sky. “It’s not every day someone would come along to leave them a story like mine. Why, I’d wager some version of it must have reached every Complex in range - it’ll pass into legend well beyond my own lifetime! Even the history books might record it some day!”
“But… out here, it’s something very personal to you?” said Kohane. “I’m sorry if I’ve brought bad memories here, if it’s something I shouldn’t know.”
Fye patted her on the head affectionately. “It’s not your fault what you did or didn’t know. Nothing you need to apologise for. I’d appreciate it if you could keep that story to yourself though.”
“The others… don’t know about it?”
“We have a rule here,” Fye explained, coming back to himself a little, “that says the past doesn’t matter. It’s a sad sort of world we’re living in, it forces the best of us to go to measures we’d never have considered if we’d been born in better times. The least we can offer people here is some kind of fresh start. It might seem an awkward kind of rule, but we do our best by it.”
Kohane looked at him thoughtfully. “That rule would apply to me too?”
“It’s for everyone,” said Fye, raising an eyebrow, “but a girl your age couldn’t have much she’d need to leave behind, surely?”
“I don’t know,” said Kohane softly, “but it still feels like if I hadn’t ever gone to that Complex… if my mother hadn’t taken me there, everything that happened after…”
After Kohane’s silence had extended on for a minute, Fye ended it. “Ah. That kind of situation.”
“Mm,” said Kohane uncomfortably.
“Let me guess some more of it,” Fye offered. “Something big and terrible happened - something you never meant, but that wouldn’t ever have happened without you. And now I suppose it’s all very well for someone else to tell you not to blame yourself for what you didn’t cause, but it still feels like there must have been something more you should have done.”
Kohane looked up at him in surprise. “How did…?”
“Oh, my dear, it’s such a common tale,” Fye told her. “And rule or no rule, it sounds like you have the kind of story you’re going to want to share with someone before it all gets too much for you - when you feel up to telling it.”
Kohane nodded solemnly, and offered no argument against his advice.
***
Sakura was in the middle of carrying a slightly too large load of tools back to the lab building when a barely familiar voice behind her said, “Um…” at just the wrong moment.
When the cacophony of a lot of tools hitting the ground all on top of each other finally faded, Kohane gingerly stepped the rest of the way around the corner and said, “Sorry, I didn’t meant to startle you.”
Sakura shook her head vigorously from side to side. “No, it’s alright! It’s just that I wasn’t expecting anyone then, and…”
“…they’re all away from the camp somewhere or very busy,” Kohane finished for her. “The others don’t have anything for me to do now. They suggested I should see whether you needed any help with anything.”
Sakura tried to think quickly, but all that really resulted in was all her ideas colliding at once or running way from her. All she had to do just now was put these tools away - and while it would be very good to show Kohane where they all went if she might be helping out with the panels in the future, that would mean taking her into the lab, and she wasn’t supposed to see Chi until she’d been here a lot longer than a mere two days.
She was still wildly trying to come up with anything for Kohane to do (completely missing the point that a simple, ‘no, nothing I can think of just at the moment’ would have been a perfectly valid answer) when she realised Kohane wasn’t looking at her anymore. She’d been distracted by the sight of the woman who was standing a few paces away from the path Sakura had been taking to get back to the lab.
“Ah, she’s here early today,” she said out loud, surprised. Kohane turned back to her questioningly. “She often comes here to watch the sunset,” Sakura went on reassuringly. “There’s nothing to worry about, she doesn’t bother anyone and she’ll go again when the sun sets, and…” she paused suddenly and threw both hands over her mouth as realisation attacked her out of nowhere. “You… you can see her too? Really?”
Kohane nodded. “Then you also see ghosts, like me and Kimihiro?”
“You knew that he…” Sakura started, then stopped herself again. “Oh, of course - but everyone knows he does. All the stories about the April Fool.”
“We didn’t have those stories in the Complex,” said Kohane. “The first time I ever heard any of them was yesterday - but I think I knew something about Kimihiro even before that, when he came to find me. He said something before about meeting someone else like him. I didn’t realise you were the one he meant.”
“I’m not quite like him though,” Sakura admitted sadly. “He can hear what the ghosts are telling him, but I can only see them. Can you…?”
“I’m the same,” Kohane told her. “They can’t talk to me either.”
“You grew up in a Complex too, didn’t you?” Sakura asked suddenly. “Did you ever see… ah, but it was a different Complex, wasn’t it? Things were probably different there.” She trailed off, leaving her listener blinking at her and trying to catch what she could possibly have meant.
“There were ghosts there,” Kohane suggested, “mostly the same kinds you’d see out here. Often, the people there took me places they thought ghosts would be and asked me to describe what I saw. They would try to use devices they’d made to tell them where the ghosts were. A lot of times they’d examine my eyes or use scans that would show them in inside of my head. Was… any of that sort of thing what you meant?”
“Nothing like that at all!” Sakura gasped. “When I was there, I was terrified to ever let any of the adults know what I saw. All I ever knew was that no-one else saw them but me, and so I was so sure seeing them at all must be something terribly wrong.”
“You may have right not to tell them,” said Kohane. “You would have been a lot younger than me when you left?”
Sakura nodded sadly. “Syaoran and I both were. It was years ago.”
“About Syaoran,” Kohane began. “I meant to ask Kimihiro, but I didn’t have the chance yet…”
“You mean the ghosts around him, don’t you?” said Sakura. She didn’t really see Kohane’s answering nod, but she didn’t need to. “He can’t see or feel them, but they’ve been with him ever since that day we left. Sometimes I think they’re fading as time goes by, but others… I don’t think they’ll ever leave.”
“Some ghosts never stop haunting the same place,” Kohane agreed. “I never knew whether it was wrong, what we can do. It always seemed that if it drew such bad attention and if there was nothing I could do to help them, there wasn’t any good that could come of seeing the dead. But it’s different for Kimihiro. If the dead hadn’t guided him there, no-one would have come to get me, and it meant so much to him to have found someone else who was like him, and to have been able to help.”
Sakura nodded vigorously. “It’s like that for him. With the ghosts to help him, he’s been able to find so many useful things for us since he came here.”
“I wonder if we could ever find a way to make what we can do as helpful as that,” said Kohane softly.
“I’ve never thought of anything,” Sakura replied. “I just try to help out any other way I can. Oh, and I’m sure we’ll find ways you can too!”
“Is… there anything I can help you out with, then?” asked Kohane.
“All I’ve got to do now is put these tools away,” said Sakura, thinking rapidly. “But I don’t have to do all of that now. So maybe you could help me carry them all back to the lab, and I could start to show you how we have to clean the panels and things while it’s still light.”
***
Scavenging missions like this one usually meant Watanuki took on an uncharacteristic level of focus, but this time they were barely an hour out before he started to fidget uncontrollably. Doumeki could tell immediately it was going to be a long trip.
“She’s still going to be there when we get back,” he muttered over his shoulder.
Watanuki stiffened indignantly behind him, which didn’t actually make as much difference to his posture as it usually would have. “I’m supposed to be responsible for her, but instead, she’s only been around two days when I’m off for hours in the middle of nowhere. How is that supposed to count?”
“Leading these trips is responsibility of yours too,” Doumeki reminded him.
“I know, I know, but it’s not the same thing, is it? Since when do I wind up on trips like this twice inside of a week anyway?”
Doumeki thought for a moment. “There was that time the month before last…”
“But that was an exception too! ‘Almost never’ is close enough to never for this to be ridiculous.”
“You’re the expert,” Doumeki shrugged. “You tell me.”
“That was meant to be treated as a hypothetical question, you know,” Watanuki grumbled.
“Why do you bother asking at all if you don’t want an answer?”
“I’m sure I have no idea why I bother talking to you at all some days,” Watanuki complained bitterly.
‘Talking at’ would be the more accurate description in this case, Doumeki thought, but he kept it to himself.
“The others can take perfectly good care of her,” he said aloud, trying for reason for once. “Monopolising her attention isn’t going to help her settle in. Everyone knows how important these trips are. She isn’t going to hold it against you if you’re not there full time.”
“It doesn’t stop me feeling like I’ve failed somewhere though - like I’m supposed to be somewhere else.”
“You’re supposed to be here. You’re supposed to be giving me directions, too.”
“Lots and lots of straight ahead,” said Watanuki, still sounding petulant.
He was quiet after that, but he didn’t stop fidgeting for the rest of the trip.