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It's odd how the weirdest thoughts can spring to mind at the brink of death.

At some point in the midst of these endless hours, my eyes must have closed, because I am alone in a pitch-black world. My only company is the stubbly, dry grass beneath my equally dry face; the merciless sun up in its pale blue throne, beating down upon my recumbent body; and my thoughts.

I'm so tired. I can't remember the last time I had a proper sleep. A proper bed. An uncomfortable attempt to swallow reminds me that I can't even remember the last time I had a drink. I'm lying face-down in the dehydrated grass and it's a rather painful position to be in, but I can't move. I've lost the strength, the will. I'm going to die here alone in this empty, desiccated field and I may as well accept it. It's not as though I've got anything left to live for. No home, no family. They, along with everything and everyone else in the country of Kohga, were all burnt down; just like my will to survive.

But instead of feeling the often-told serenity that is supposedly expected before the sweet release of death, I feel a strange urge to laugh. It isn't even funny, but the most ironic thought came to mind.

My parents persuaded me to run from Kohga in order to escape the fire. The flames which were sweeping over the country were heading in the direction of our village, along with the ruthless soldiers of the neighbouring kingdom Mokushu. I remember being frightened and upset: nothing more, nothing less than an emotional mess. I didn't want to leave my parents, who said they would stay behind a little longer in order to gather supplies, before 'catching up' with me. But at the same time, I was horrified out of my wits. In the not-so-far distance, soldiers were executing a massacre before my very eyes. The red flames I saw, the hair-raising screams I heard... all around me, there was terror, death and devastation. So, I ran. I ran to escape it all, just like my parents begged me to. They wanted me to be safe. They didn't want me to burn.

And yet here I am - who knows how many days later - lying pathetically on the ground, my mouth parched, my skin cooked by the searing summer sun, and my desire to survive put out like a blown-out candle. Look at me, mother and father. I'm burning, despite everything.

It's ironically hilarious. I'd laugh if I had the strength.

My head throbs. It's too loud. The pain, the heat...

I need water... I need help...

My thoughts suddenly begin to jumble up, loudening into a mental cacophony. I can't die yet. There's something left... something I need to do... but I just don't know what...

Water... Help...

And then the noise stops and I am left with a high-pitched note ringing in the empty blackness of my head.

*

"Possibly a survivor from the Kohga massacre..."

"We're short on time and supplies... It's risky keeping her..."

"What choice do we have?"

A buzz of voices awakens me.

The first thing I realise is, I'm not dead.

The second thing is, it feels as though I'm lying in a bed. And I think I've had a drink, because my previous crave for water has lessened to a certain degree.

Weirdly enough, the third thing I remember is what I was thinking about before I supposedly blacked out.

This time I laugh. Well, more like a dry wheeze. The voices cease in response to this odd noise and I know they're staring at me. Judging by what I heard from their interrupted conversation, I estimate around four, possibly five people in the room. If only I could pry my eyes open and see. Yet my eyelids feel as though they are stuck together, and there is a slight dread tugging at the back of my newly awoken mind, that I might have been captured by Mokushujin soldiers.

"Do you need a drink? There's water here if you need it." It's a gruff male voice, yet there is an oddly gentle lilt to it.

All of a sudden everything seems so painfully ridiculous. I've been half-dead for who knows how long. What do they expect me to say? Yeah, sure, just leave it on my bedside, thanks. I should hope not.

I open my mouth to speak, but my throat is too dry and nothing comes out. I hear someone rush to my side and before I know it, a strong arm has looped behind my back. For a wild moment, I think they're about to kill me.

"Here, drink up."

Feeling slightly silly, I realise the owner of this gruff voice is simply helping me sit up. I allow him to slowly tip water past my cracked lips, and as soon as the delicious liquid reaches my throat, my confused state of mind changes completely into one of fixated awareness.

I'm alive.

And I want to stay that way.

My eyes blink slowly several times before finally opening, hazily revealing my whereabouts. I am sitting up in a wooden bed, in the corner of a small, dark and dilapidated room. A dim lantern highlights six figures in dull, shabby clothing, gathered on the wooden floor. Their faces drained but wary, they watch me with a probing gaze.

My eyes then dart to the man crouched by my bedside, whose right arm is still securely supporting my back. He holds a wooden tankard in his left hand – a hand which is rough and clenched. Feeling slightly nervous, I glance up at his face.

His expression is chiselled and hardened with the painful memories of an untold story. His ash-black hair seems to reach out in unkempt tufts, though streaks of silver tell me of a conflicted past. And yet, despite these hidden intimations, there is something deeper in his eyes: warmth, strength... and something else...?

"How are you feeling?" he asks, awakening me from my musing.

"Um," I say, and stop. It's the first time I've heard my own voice in several days; it sounds unfamiliarly low and husky. I clear my throat before continuing uncertainly. "I'm... really hungry..."

There is a silence afterwards. I can almost see the wave of despair falling over the people in the room, as they either avert their gaze to the floor or look at me pitifully. And then I realise: they're hungry too. Which means there isn't any food.

This realisation only seems to make my hunger worse. My stomach lurches with a sharp pain and a groan escapes from my mouth. I know they don't have food. I can tell. But I need it; I need it badly. "I'm... hungry..." I find myself repeating, my body overcome with weakness.

The man beside me turns his head around and jerks it in the others' direction. "You heard the girl. Get food," he orders.

One of the figures, who appears distinctly smaller compared to the rest of the group, scrambles to the opposite corner of the room where a small, threadbare sack slumps almost dejectedly. He plunges his hand in, takes something out and then rushes to my bedside, tentatively handing the item to me. I take it and turn it around in my fingers, unsure. It's brown and rock-hard, yet I feel the urge to eat it.

"It'll be stale, but it's the best – and last – food that we've got," the man by my bedside tells me, as the small figure scurries back to the group and continues to watch from afar.

So it's bread. Without waiting another second, I ravenously plunge my teeth into it; it's incredibly hard, but it's food, and that's all that matters. It disappears from my hand within seconds.

Everything is quiet but for the sound of my jaw grinding against the final chunk of bread. I look up and see the others' downcast faces as I consume the last of their food. I almost feel a pang of guilt, and yet at the same time I'm so hungry, I'm past caring. I then turn to the man next to me. "There's no more?"

"No," he replies gruffly. "No, there isn't. We've been travelling light for three days, and despite rationing, that's the remainder of the little number of supplies we started off with."

"Oh." I don't know what I was thinking; these are no soldiers of Mokushu. "So... are you from Kohga?"

"Yeah." He looks away momentarily, but not before I see his face, glazed with pain.

"Like me," I murmur. He turns to look at me then, and his expression is so sorrowful, so empathetic, that tears begin to involuntarily gather in my eyes. I shut them tightly, trying not to relive the moment, two days ago, when I turned and fled. I abandoned my parents. I left them behind, left them to face a world of agony and flames. "Why, why, why?" I moan, my voice weak with despair. "Why did this have to happen?"

I find myself drawing up my shoulders and hunching over, bringing my palms up to my face to hide the tears. A tsunami of memories falls over me: the fire, the screams, the terror... But even worse is the knowledge that my parents are gone, gone, gone. I'll never see them again. 

And why is that? 

"I'm wrong," I whisper, slowly pulling my palms away from my wet cheeks. "It didn't have to happen. There is no reason... behind any of this."

"There is." The man's voice surprises me, and I realise I'd forgotten he was still beside me. I turn my head to look at him.

"And that is?"

"People," he replies gruffly, meeting my gaze. "A corrupted mind. Senseless greed. A lust for power. It all comes down to people, doesn't it? They're the reason for all this meaningless war."

"That's true, but not entirely. If all people were the reason behind this kind of sadness, then why am I sitting here crying now? Because I've lost people. I've lost their company, their time... their goodness. They weren't bad, were they? How can you possibly maintain that mindset?"

"The world isn't black and white, you know," he argues back, unexpectedly. "In all honesty, I wouldn't want your mindset at all. You seem to expect too much, and that only leads to downfalls; though I suppose that's a typical viewpoint from a hopeful youngster such as yourself."

"Actually, you don't look that much older than me... And are you telling me you see nothing good in people whatsoever?" I demand, infuriated with this stubborn man and his obviously flawed opinions. "Didn't you have any friends or family, who you saw good in and treasured close to your heart?"

"Of course I did!" he returns, his tone raising testily. "Don't..." His voice breaks suddenly and he stops, his eyes casting downwards briefly, before returning up to meet mine once again. 

"This subject is closed,"  he finishes bluntly, getting up to his feet.

Despite wanting to argue my point further, I press my lips together tightly. It's obvious I struck a sore spot; and what would the point in that be, considering all the desolation we're already enduring? Despite this, I still feel anger boiling inside of me - and something else, too. It's an all-too-familiar tugging feeling of incompleteness, the one I felt during my near-death experience, outside in the sun. There is something I need to do... but what...?

"What's your name?" 

Surprised by the sudden question, I stare at the man, who is no longer at my bedside but now standing in the middle of the floor. For some reason it takes me nearly ten seconds to search my thoughts, remember and eventually reply, "Homura."

"Hm," he says. "My name is Shura." 

"Okay," I say in return, because it didn't seem to be the right time and place to offer a 'pleased to meet you'.

Using his hand, he gestures to the each of the figures who are sitting on the floor, in turn. "Kai. Reia. Goto. Inaba. Toda. Idris." 

A few of them - including 'Idris', who I recognise to be the small boy who fetched me the bread - offer me small smiles or nods, but other than that, they maintain their overall gloomy mien. This depressing bearing only reminds me of how agitated I was feeling previously: due to the fact that we're all sitting here in a miserable heap, and yet there's something, unknown, that really needs to be done.

"What's going to happen now?" I ask, directing the question at Shura, whom I realise stands out from the others, due to his contrastingly set composure.

"Well," he begins. "We're currently travelling North, to Hoshido. We will ask for refuge there; I hear they are a peaceful people, despite being at war with Nohr."

"Hoshido..." I try to recollect memories of the kingdom's name and location. "That's... quite far, isn't it?"

"Yeah, but if we manage to stay on the move and not dawdle anywhere for too long, we might make it in just over a fortnight." 

There are some doubtful murmurs amongst the others, and I have to agree with them; the goal seems unachievable. "What about food?" I ask; it has to be the most protruding question of all.

"Okay, okay, I know it sounds unrealistic," Shura says, waving me off. "I admit, for our survival, I'm mostly relying on the possibility of discovering some means of transport along the way. Food and water? We'll see what happens. We may be able to find some vegetation as we go along. When we get to Hoshido, we'll surely be offered shelter and supplies, and then we will be able to put our pasts behind us and start over once again."

Upon hearing this plan of spontaneity, I realise it isn't just unrealistic - it's impossible. And everyone in the room, including Shura, must know this. In a way, I can't help but admire him; the general aura of hopelessness among us is enough to cause anyone to simply sit down and give up entirely - and yet Shura still takes on the burden of leadership and speaks to us of a future. 

"So when do we set off?" I ask.

"As soon as you deem yourself fit enough to move, really," replies Shura. 

Suddenly feeling as though I have been burdensome all this time, I ruefully pull my feet up and slide my legs across the thin, creased bedsheets, to the side of the bed. I wait for a few seconds before digging my palms into the scruffy mattress and then heave myself up to a standing position on the rough, wooden floor.

I can't remember the last time I stood up on my own two feet. Now it feels strange and precarious, and a wave of dizziness sweeps through my head, urging me to sit down again. It takes several seconds before the overall shakiness and instability wins, causing me to drop back onto the mattress, my eyes shut and my hand over my forehead.

"If it would help, I could give you another hour of rest before we set off," Shura suggests, slowly.

"I'm just really hungry... and not quite used to standing up..." I mumble, rubbing my forehead where a headache has begun to form. "I'm sorry."

Shura hesitates. "The only way we can get any more food is by continuing onwards, you know."

"Yes... I know..." I sigh, trying to think. "Do you think... Could I have some more water? We have that, right?"

Shura pauses again, and I already feel my hopes plummet in expectation of a negative answer.

"We... do, actually," he says slowly, though upon seeing my now hopeful look, he continues, "But it isn't much. It's being heavily rationed."

"Just a sip," I plead. "And immediately after that, I'll force myself to start walking."

"I wasn't going to say no." Shura turns, presumably to fetch water, but little Idris had scampered there before him and is already rummaging through a sack. He extracts a leather flask and then runs toward me. After a quick glance around, he sights the wooden tankard from which I drank earlier and begins to tremblingly pour water into it from the flask.

Shura steps up behind him, observing the water carefully as it continues to trickle into the tankard. "That's enough," he instructs, taking hold of Idris' hand and up-righting the flask.

As I am handed the tankard, I use the opportunity to take a better look at Idris. Despite his short height suggesting an age of around nine, his pale face seems a little worn - though from work or age, I'm not sure. He has dark brown hair which falls sloppily across his forehead, and his eyes are a warm, hazy green. His general appearance, though tired and unkempt, shines with honesty and keenness, as he watches me take the tankard from his own grubby fingers.

"Thank you," I nod to him, bringing the tankard to my lips. He beams at me in return.

Once the water is finished and I feel slightly more refreshed, I try to get up again, and this time Shura holds my elbow lightly to help me stay on my feet. We walk around the room in this way for a little while, and though it's slow, I can feel my legs gradually becoming more used to the sensation of standing and moving. Idris follows us around, looking as though he wants to help but isn't too sure how.

After around five minutes of this, I flop down on the bed to give my legs a break. 

"And how much more time would you like now?" asks Shura sarcastically, his hands on his hips.

I sit up. "Okay, fine, I'm ready," I sigh. "We'll get going now."

There is a lot of shuffling and grumbling as everyone gets up. I watch as someone goes to collect the small sacks which are against the wall, but upon lifting both to test their weight, empties one into the other. Disheartened, I look away. There is no way one small sack of supplies - without any food, as well - will last us a couple of days, let alone a fortnight. Unless...

I feel a tug at my sleeve and look down to see Idris staring at me. "Are you okay?" he asks, tentatively. 

"Yeah," I reply, momentarily surprised upon finally hearing his voice - it's a lot huskier than the small, high-pitched voice I was expecting. "Thanks. But listen, can I ask you something?"

He nods, a little too vigorously, causing his dark fringe to flop around. 

"Is this group carrying any... weaponry with them?"

He hesitates, biting his lip, deep in thought. "I don't know. But I do know that Shura trained as a ninja back in Kohga... maybe he has something. We can go ask him."

"Hm... okay."

Idris takes me across the room and out through the door, outside where Shura and several of the others are waiting. To my dismay, the sun is bright and infuriatingly hot. "Wouldn't it have made more sense to wait till evening, when the sun is lower?" I demand Shura, shielding my eyes with my hand.

"We can't afford to wait all day - we need to stay on the move, or have you not noticed how hungry everyone is?" Shura argues back, curtly. "We would have left a lot earlier in the morning, but you were still asleep."

"I don't see why you're trying to place the blame on me, considering you could have just left me if you wanted to..."

"Just listen to yourself!" Shura glares at me. "Wouldn't it make sense to save a fellow Kohga citizen after such an event?" 

"I..."

He cuts me short. "You're just arguing because you don't want to feel like a burden, which you blatantly are."

He turns around, beckoning to the others - "Come, let's go now" - leaving me gaping at him.

"How can he call me a burden if I haven't even had a chance yet to make myself useful?" I protest to no one in particular. 

"Let's just go," says Idris, tugging softly at my torn sleeve. I'd forgotten he was there - possibly due to his short height. Which made me ponder once again about his age.   

We stride on after Shura and the others, Idris still hanging on lightly to my shirt. Such a naïve, childishly vulnerable action... I  couldn't hold the question any longer: "How old are you, Idris?"

"I'm eleven," he answers, looking up at me. "What about you?"

So much older than I expected - and yet so young, too. "I'm sixteen," I tell him.

He stares at me, and I swear his grip on me tightens. I'm about to ask him if he's alright, but he blinks and looks away, suddenly acting disinterested. "I think when Shura was looking at the map, he mentioned a forest - and look, you can see it in the distance. I can't wait to get there, can you? We'll be able to get some shade under those trees. It's so hot, isn't it? Sometimes when the weather gets this sunny, there'll be a thunderstorm. That's good for the plants..."

I nod and smile as he chatters on. Despite a very clear change of subject, I have to admire his energy and keenness, which seem to be the key traits the rest of us are missing. I watch the backs of the other Kohgans as we plod on across the dry yellow grass, thinking how each one has their own story, their own lost loved ones... and yet in spite of these common aspects, they choose not to join together but to immerse themselves in their own misery, alone. I manage to pick out key groups, though: a young woman and two men - one middle-aged, the other slightly older -  stick together, sometimes muttering to each other. I figure they must be from the same area, and hence already know each other.

There is also what appears to be a youngish, perhaps mid-twenties couple. I can't help but wonder if the woman has some sort of disability, as she leans on her partner and walks slowly, in an erratic manner. 

And then there's Shura, at the front, by himself. Alone - or maybe naturally independent. His stride full of purpose, his eyes set forward, he carries the bearing of a fighter. Idris did say he was a ninja - which suddenly reminds me of my enquiry about weaponry I was meaning to ask him. 

I jog past the others, Idris trotting after me, until I reach Shura's side and match his pace. "Shura, I wanted to ask you something," I begin. "You wouldn't have any... weapons on you, would you?"

He gives me a weird look, and then, with his hand, pats a leather pouch on his belt. "I do happen to be carrying several shurikens with me," he answers. "But please, enlighten me - why are you asking?"

"Considering we have no food, it would make sense to hunt as soon as we get to the forest," I tell him.

"Hmm." His eyebrows furrow and he looks out to the distant woods, before looking back down at his pouch. "Shuriken, at the most, will only do light damage. Unless they're poisoned, there isn't much chance of getting a kill. Unfortunately, that means they aren't good hunting weapons. I don't have many anyway... it would be very difficult."

"Oh." I murmur thoughtfully - and then another idea hits me all of a sudden. "A bow and arrow would be good, though."

"Does it look like I have that on me?"

"No," I say, irritated by his sarcastic tone. "But I could make one. My... dad..." My voice wobbles, but I force myself to push past the sad thoughts and continue, "...he taught me some practical hunting skills. I can wield a bow and arrow; and I might be able to make one, too."

He looks at me again, this time with interest. "What materials would you need in order to craft a bow and arrow?"

"Er..." I tilt my head back and squint my eyes, trying to remember what I used during practice. "Strong wood that can bend without snapping... string... oh, and a knife, obviously. For the arrows, I'd need feathers... and something sharp, like glass or steel." 

Shura brings his thumb and index finger to his chin, and looks off into the distance, deep in thought. "We have a knife. And wood can definitely be found when we get to the forest; the same goes for feathers. String... now that's a problem. And steel, you say... hmm."

I slow down my walking pace and think hard. "String... could be made with plant roots. I haven't tried making it before, but I remember my dad mentioning that it could be made this way. I can't imagine it would be too hard."

"Right... and what about steel?" he asks. "For the arrowheads, I'm guessing."

"Steel, or glass, really..." I shut my eyes. "...I don't know."

"Maybe we'll be able to find some random stuff on the ground as we walk along," pipes up Idris. "We just need to keep our eyes peeled!" 

"And if we don't, I could always sharpen a stone, I guess..." I look at Shura and offer him a smile. "Hey, this could work."

"Yeah..." He glances at me and, to my surprise, briefly returns the smile. It's small - just a twitch of the corners of his mouth - but it's a smile all the same.

"Hey... didn't know you could smile," I can't help but tease.

He clears his throat. "It turns out your youthful hope is contagious, if not impractical."

"It's good to see your stubbornness receding slightly, too."

"Don't push your luck." He looks away, but his almond-brown eyes are still smiling. 

I decide to take advantage of his good mood; there are things about him that I feel the urge to learn more about. "You know, you keep referring to how young I am - and yet you don't seem that old yourself," I say. "How old are you really?"

"When I say you're young, I mean you're young in mind," he says, gruffly. "The age gap between us might not be too large, but our mental age, on the other hand..."

"You're avoiding the question," I cut him off, not wishing to hear what he thought of my 'mental age'.  "How old are you, Shura?"

"Okay, okay. I'm twenty-one."

I can't help but feel surprised again. "You do realise there is only 5 years difference between us? Not much there to gloat about, in my opinion..."

"I'm not gloating. I hold no pride in myself at all; I simply know that I am a lot more mature than you." 

"What do you mean, you 'hold no pride at all'?" I ask, slowly. "You brought everyone together, and now you're leading us all to Hoshido. I don't understand what there isn't to be proud of."

He shuts his eyes, and I realise he has lost all trace of the smile he wore merely seconds ago. Yet again, I have unintentionally but cruelly breached through what appears to be a self-made emotional barrier. "You don't know me," he mutters, finally opening his eyes. "I'm not in the least bit proud of anything I've done."

"But Shura..." I swivel my head around, surprised to hear Idris speaking up. "Shura, you saved me. And Homura, too. Aren't you pleased we're here because of you?" His dark eyes are glossy and wide with emotion.

Shura gazes at him, his feelings unclear. "I'm... pleased you're here," he admits slowly. He then turns back to the direction in front of him. "But not because of me."

 The walk continues in silence. With no conversation to distract me with, the sunlight seems to have become more blinding, the heat more mercilessly pounding, and the air more stale. Below me, Idris is panting huskily. "Are you thirsty?" I ask him gently, already knowing the answer. He looks up at me and nods in reply. I turn around to look for the bag of supplies, and see it slung over the shoulder of the young man who walks beside his slow partner.

I slow down to let them catch up to me and Idris. "Do you think I could take some water from your bag?" I enquire.

He sighs, slows down and shrugs his shoulder, causing the bag to slide down his arm. "Go on, but don't take much."

"Thanks," I say, taking the bag off his wrist and opening it. There are several flasks inside - I count four - and I plunge my hand in and take out what seems to be the lightest one. I open it and pass it down to Idris. "Just a few sips, okay?"

"I know," he replies hoarsely, before tipping it into his mouth. Watching him makes my throat feel dryer than ever, so I turn away in an attempt to divert my thoughts. My attention instead turns to the young woman on the other side of the man next to me. She walks slowly due to some sort of limp and leans heavily against her partner, clinging to his arm and resting her head into his shoulder. Her long, dark, ash grey hair falls over her face and she appears too weary to bother pushing it back. At that moment, she whispers incomprehensibly and her partner tilts his ear towards her in order to catch her words.

He then turns to me. "My wife wants water after the boy is finished," he explains curtly, gesturing to Idris who has lowered the flask from his mouth.

"Here you go," Idris says lightly, passing it to him. "My name's Idris, by the way. And this is Homura. What's your names?"

The man doesn't answer immediately, as he helps his wife drink from the flask, and I can't help but be under the impression that he's just going to ignore Idris completely. But after gently removing the flask from her shaky hands, screwing the top on and putting it back inside the sack, he turns back to us. "I'm Toda. And this is my wife, Inaba." Inaba finally raises her face - worn but strikingly pretty - and offers us a feeble smile. 

Toda looks down at her warmly, but as if suddenly remembering something, quickly pivots his head back in our direction. "And in case you're wondering what happened to her leg, then she twisted her ankle while we were escaping from our town. It should hopefully heal soon." While he says this, I can't help but notice Inaba avert her indigo eyes down to the ground.

"She... does seem to be in a lot of pain," I say slowly. "Hey, maybe when we get to the forest, I could try to find a branch or something that could work as a walking stick."

Toda gazes at me earnestly. "That would help immensely." He then looks back down at his wife and sighs. "She's going through a lot... and I would carry her, it's just..."

 "We're all tired," I attempt to reassure him. "No one would be able to carry another person, not in this state. You're doing a lot already: supporting her all this way, and carrying the sack, too... actually, let me take that for you."

"Thank you," Toda sighs, letting the bag slide down his arm. I take it from him and sling it over my own shoulder. It isn't that heavy - but taking one burden away from Toda felt as if it were the least I could do to help.

All of a sudden, Toda's arm jolts and he careens over to the side, almost losing his balance. Instinctively, I grab his other arm in an attempt to hold him steady. But then I realise: the pull came from Inaba. 

Toda shakes his right arm away from my grip and wraps it around his wife's shoulders as she begins to sink to the floor. He crouches down next to her, trying to hold her up. "Inaba... it's too much for you, isn't it? You should have told me. I would have carried you... Look, we'll rest now. Don't put any more pressure on your ankle - no, stop putting so much pressure on yourself. Inaba..." 

I try to mentally gather up all the few scraps of medical knowledge that I can remember. Twisted ankle... she'd need something to support it. A strong bandage, perhaps - but no, we don't have any bandages with us. 

Somebody rushes past me, and to my surprise it's Shura; I figure Idris must have run to the front and fetched him without me realising. "What's happening?" he demands, crouching down beside Toda.

"It's just her ankle... like I said before, it's twisted. And she's really tired..." Toda stammers, his eyes fixed on Inaba.

Something seems so... off. She's not just tired - she seems extremely weak in general - and a twisted ankle shouldn't be enough to make her fully collapse. And Toda can't be so blind to all this - not when he's been by her side since the start of the journey. It's impossible; it's almost as if he might even be deliberately undermining the seriousness of his wife's condition. But why would he do that...?

By now, everyone in the group is gathered around the couple, trying to see Inaba. She hides her face in Toda's arm, as if suddenly shy. It's an odd gesture from someone her age - and so is the fact that she's hardly said a word during the whole trip. Her behaviour reminds me of that of a timid child - but most certainly not a grown woman.

It must have occurred to Shura too, as he is staring at her, his eyebrows furrowed. He then tilts his head up briefly to look at the sky, and emits a sigh. "Look... We'll stop and rest for now, but it can't be too long, as the sun is too high and we'll end up being cooked. I promise we'll all rest properly when we're under the shade of the trees, in the forest." He places his hands on his thighs and heaves himself to his feet, before walking away. Idris hesitates, before scampering after him.

Someone taps my shoulder and I turn around to see a woman with short, dark brown hair. "Can we have some water from your sack?" she asks, bluntly. 

"Yeah, sure. Don't take much, though." I hand her the grubby sack, which she takes before striding away to two other men. The three sit down a small distance away, sharing a flask of water between them, muttering to each other and throwing rebuking glances in Inaba's direction every now and then.

I cast an eye over to Shura. He is now sitting cross-legged in the grass, pouring over a large piece of paper - possibly the map that Idris was referring to a while ago. Idris, who is sitting next to him, sees me looking and eagerly beckons to me to come and join them. I take one last dubious look at the group of three people, and then jog over.

I kneel down beside Shura and look at the map, curiously. "So what route are we taking?"

"We're here, just outside Kohga." I follow his finger as it trails across the worn, brown paper. "We'll take a pit stop at Izumo, just over here. I expect we will arrive there in a couple of days at the least. Afterwards, we continue North, sticking close to the coast, and head straight for Hoshido."

With my own finger, I retrace the route he showed me, stopping at the indicated kingdom of Izumo. "Why don't we just stay here, instead of going all the way to Hoshido?"

He furrows his eyebrows. "I had thought about this, but in the end decided to continue with my original plan. Izumo is small. Hoshido, in comparison, offers greater opportunities, with a wider range of lifestyle choices - and, of course, a lot more land. It would just be better in the long term."

"Well, okay..." I shrug. "You know best."

*

The rest of the walk to the forest is so irritatingly hot, so endlessly tedious, I end up forgetting Idris' advice of "keeping my eyes peeled". So when we finally get to the border and he calls out to me - "Look, Homura! Bamboo!" - for a split second I have no idea what he's on about.

"Would bamboo work in your bow and arrow?" Idris asks me, eagerly pointing at the tall plants. 

I blink. "Yes... yes it would," I breathe, walking towards them. I reach out my hand and run my fingers along the hard green stalks. "My dad told me that bamboo is one of the best materials you can get for a hand-made bow." My mouth breaks into a grin. "Idris, this is great!"

Using a pocket-knife fished out from Shura's belt, I remove the bamboo culms from the dry soil, being careful to cut as close to the ground as I can. 

"Right... now we're just looking for strong plant roots, feathers and triangular stones." I tuck the long bamboo culms underneath my arm, feeling pleased; all my memories of bow-making and hunting are flooding through me, feeding me with a new burst of energy. 

We eventually get underneath the little but relieving shade of the forest trees. Most people flop down onto the leaf and fern-ridden ground, but Shura and I stay on our feet. "We're going to look for materials to make a bow and arrow," I explain. "And when that's done, we'll be able to eat fresh game."

"How long will that take?" somebody demands.

"Er... it depends," I answer, surprised to hear such an angry tone; I was expecting people to rejoice at the sound of fresh meat.

Impatiently, the man gets to his feet. "We can't wait that long." He then turns to the younger man and woman still sitting on the ground. "Goto, Reia, come on. We'll look around and try and find game that's already dead."

"That could be dangerous, though..." I object. "Even if you do manage to find anything, it could be old or infected. You could die."

"Well it's either that or starve, isn't it?" he argues back, rebukingly. "Right, who else is coming with us?"

Toda clambers to his feet. "Shura, Homura... I'll come with you, if that's alright." Brushing off his legs with his palms, he averts his eyes to Idris. "Idris... do you think you could wait here with Inaba?"

Idris looks as though he was intending on joining us too, but he obediently sits down beside Inaba instead. "Sure."

I smile and wave a goodbye to Idris, and then Shura, Toda and I set off. I can't help but notice that the three who decided to go scavenging deliberately turn in the opposite direction. A strong dislike for them settles somewhere deep inside me - and it seems I'm not the only person who feels this way.

As we are walking through the leaves, Toda catches up with me. "Kai, Goto and Reia... I don't want to be prejudiced against anyone here, but I can't help disliking them," he tells me under his breath. 

"I know what you mean," I agree earnestly. 

"I... heard them talking about Inaba."

I keep my eyes on the ground, but feel a pang of defensiveness for the meek, gentle and pretty young woman. "What were they saying?"

"Let me explain." He sighs, watching his own feet drag through the green forest floor. "My Inaba has always been... different. Mentally, I don't think she ever grew up. People back in our town always avoided her on impulse, as her unusual nature would always make them feel uncomfortable. A child in an adult's body... society just didn't take it that well." He looks up. "I wanted to protect her - let her know that there is someone out there who loves and cares about her, and won't shun her because of the way she is. So, I married her.

"Now, a while ago Reia lived in our area. She was one of those people who had a strong, obvious disliking for Inaba. When we were younger, she would taunt her and poke fun at her whenever she got the opportunity. At some point - to my relief - she moved to another part of Kohga. But now that we've met again, I think she remembers her hate for Inaba; and she has most certainly shared her views with her similar-minded uncle and brother. I heard them talking... discussing how abnormal and burdensome she was. They clearly don't want her here. And I hate them for that."

As Toda speaks, my emotions well up gradually. By the end of his story, I'm so angry and upset at the same time, I don't know how to reassure him. Instead I just seethe, "I hate them too." 

The hunt for materials takes longer than expected, and by the time we start to head back to where we left the others, there are orange gaps in between the leaves in the treetops, telling us it's evening. 

"I'll start building when we sit down," I promise Shura and Toda as the three of us tread through the messy forest floor. "I just... yeah. Really need to sit down."

As we are walking, I suddenly hear someone calling out. "Is that... Idris?" Shura murmurs from beside me, looking around. And then Idris' small figure appears, sprinting towards us. His eyes are wide with panic and, feeling a jolt of apprehension, I find myself running towards him, Toda and Shura following close behind.

"Idris? What's wrong?" I exclaim, grasping his thin shoulders in an attempt to help steady him.

"Where's Inaba?" Toda demands from behind me, stepping forward. "Why did you leave her?"

Idris, crying and panting heavily, grabs my shirt and looks up; his eyes are wide with terror. "I... I don't know what to do... They found a rabbit in a hunter's trap... cooked it on a spit... they gave most of it to Inaba, and now... I don't know, I don't know! It must have been poisoned, she can't stop coughing..."

Toda bolts past us, and we run after him. Inaba... flawed in maturity, but innocent in nature. This couldn't be happening, not to her. 

But when we get there, surely enough, Inaba is on her hands and knees, her indigo eyes wild with hysteria as she coughs raucously and uncontrollably into the ground. 

"Inaba!?" Toda falls to his knees beside her, immediately taking her into his arms and sitting her up. 

She looks at him, and it's like magic; her coughing stops abruptly, and her eyes lose their hysterical wideness, turning into a calm gaze as she fondly looks up at her husband. 

But everything's all wrong. I feel relieved that she has managed to calm down - but Toda starts screaming. It shouldn't be that way. He should be relieved too. I don't understand.

But then I do.

Her eyes are still because they're blank.

She's calm because she's dead.

A wave of dizziness overwhelms me and I'm suddenly on my knees. 

Toda's screams cut through the air. "You killed her! You wanted her gone, so you killed her!" His eyes, glassy with tears, become wide with fury as he swivels his head towards Kai, Goto and Reia.

"It's your own fault!" Reia screeches back at him. "You forgot about me... you took her in... 'twisted her ankle', you say? For Gods' sake, Toda, we all knew she was crippled! We would never get to Hoshido alive, what with her slowing us down. A crippled madwoman... What were you thinking?! You godsforsaken fool!" Breathless, she grabs a stick from the spit and prepares to hurl it in Toda's direction.

I can only watch as Shura runs forward and intercepts, grabbing her arm. He shoves her, hard, and she falls backwards. 

"Leave."

There is a silence. 

"Leave now," Shura growls again. "Don't follow us. Don't take our supplies. Just leave." 

Reia stares at him and gets to her feet. She throws one last glance at Toda and Inaba, her face still contorted with shock and anger. And then she pivots around, and runs. Kai and Goto follow her, and I watch, unmoved, as the three of them sprint away and disappear into the forest.

"Toda..." Idris stands beside the man's weeping, bent-over form, and cautiously places a hand on his back. 

"I won't be coming with you." 

Toda raises his head; his eyes are bloodshot and his face drained and shadowed. "I left her once," he whispers brokenly, "and I'm not leaving her again." 

No one says anything - no one knows what to say - and he tilts his head down once again, leaning over Inaba's still body.

"Okay," I hear Shura mutter. Idris and I both turn and stare at him, speechless. He inhales deeply, his eyes closed. When he re-opens them, he continues, slowly, "If that's all you can see yourself doing... then okay, Toda."

"Don't give me any water to keep. I'll make do without it." Toda buries his face deeper into the chest of his lifeless wife.

Shura bends over, picks up the sack of supplies and slings it over his shoulder. He then takes all the bow and arrow materials we collected, and places them under his arm. 

I can't believe what's happening - I can't believe we're really leaving him alone like this, with no food, no water, no nothing... "Shura," I whisper. "He'll die."

He ignores me. "Shura?" I plead, louder this time. "He'll -" 

"Homura, come on. We're going." He turns his back on Toda and starts walking. 

I can't accept this. "But -"

Suddenly, Idris grabs my arm and tries to lead me on, to follow after Shura. I don't understand. "Idris, why...?"

He turns and gazes at me. "We have to follow him, Homura," he says quietly, giving my sleeve another tug. "Please. You said it yourself: Shura knows best."

So I walk.

And while we leave him alone to die, Toda never looks up. 

*

There is no sound but for the crunching of the leaves beneath our feet as we tread through the dark forest. In all the time that has passed, no one has spoken a word since we left Toda. 

My eyes drowsy, my stomach empty and my throat parched, I lost all motivation to get started on the bow and arrow a while ago. The materials for it can still be seen under Shura's arm, bobbing up and down as he drags his worn boots through the forest undergrowth.

Shura... a leader, a fighter, and so much more. A man with the kindness and determination to take on burden after burden, yet at the same time have another side to him; a side of stubbornness, conflict and rash cruelty. 

I don't know what to make of him.

My thoughts are interrupted when Idris seems to trip in front of me. Instinctively, I run forward and manage to catch him by the elbow. "Are you okay?" I ask.

"I... I tripped over something... I dunno what..." he murmurs, rubbing at his eyes with his knuckles - he's clearly too exhausted to even speak or walk properly. I straighten up and call out to Shura. "Hey, can we stop now? Just look at Idris. I think we all really need to get some sleep."

Shura walks back to us hesitantly. "Hm. Okay."

The three of us just stand there, as we all simultaneously seem to realise that, well... there is nowhere to sleep.

Then, deciding I'm too tired to even care, I drop heavily into the ferns and the leaves. "Guess we just sleep on the floor..." I yawn, reclining on the ground, "and hope that no forest animals find and eat us."

Idris flops down next to me and curls up straight away. Shura, on the other hand, hesitates, knowing how impractical this is - but then, with a sigh, drops what he's carrying and sits on the ground a small distance away. 

I prepare to close my eyes, but I hear Shura clear his throat suddenly, as if about to speak, and turn my head to look at him, noticing that he is still sitting up. "Yes?"

"Is Idris awake?" he asks, gruffly. "There's something on my mind that I need to make both of you aware of."

Idris emits a tiny sigh from beside me. "Yeah, he's somewhat awake," I tell Shura, giving the small boy a soft nudge with my elbow. "Though probably not for long. What is it you have to say?"

"Right." He clears his throat again. "Can I make it clear to both of you, that no one is to mention either Toda or Inaba from here onwards. Understand?"

It wasn't what I was expecting. Yet again, I feel unable to get my head around Shura's obstinate mindset, but I'm too weary to argue against it. "We won't," I promise, reluctantly.

"Okay," Shura says, looking slightly confused - maybe he was also expecting me to argue back. He sighs and leans back into the ferns, placing his forearm over his eyes. "Okay. Good."

I turn my head away from him and take a brief look at the gaps in the leaves above me, which expose a faraway, dark blue sky, before closing my eyes. I can't help but think about how Idris, with his forehead leant against my shoulder and a portion of my sleeve in his loosely-clenched fist, is being oddly clingy for a boy his age. 

But it doesn't seem to bother me, because that's the last thing I'm thinking of before sleep finally takes a hold of me and gently places me in a remote world of calm darkness.

*

"Shura, Idris! Wake up."

I can't help but smile - for while they were asleep, I had been building a bow and some arrows - and they were finally completed. After spending all the early hours of the morning cutting, bending and twisting wood and string accordingly (and cursing whenever my fingers would stumble across a painful splint), I finally had a bow and a set of five arrows, all ready for use. 

Shura blinks, still not fully awake. "Hm? What?" He turns his head around quickly, before squinting at me. "Oh," he says, finally seeming to acknowledge his surroundings. He clambers to his feet and stares at what I'm holding, his eyebrows raised. "So you made it. Well now, that's great."

"Yep," I reply, beaming proudly. "I've tested it out too, and it works fine." I turn to Idris who, for some reason, still hasn't moved. "Hey, Idris, look! I made my bow and arrows."

The small boy emits a moan, and then curls up even tighter. I rush over to him and crouch by his side. "You alright?"

"Hungry," he whispers, almost inaudibly.

I inhale, my chest suddenly feeling tight with pity, as I realise it must now be more than a day since he last ate anything. "Oh. Oh, Idris," I whisper, sympathetically reaching out and stroking his dark head with my fingers. "Listen, though. I made a hunting bow and five arrows to go with it, and now Shura and I are going to go and hunt. It won't be long before we can all have something fresh to eat. Do you want some water while you wait?" 

"Mhm," he mumbles, feebly. I turn to get some water from our sack, but Shura must have been listening in, as he is already behind me with a flask in his hand.

I thank him, take it from his hands and unscrew the lid. I then help Idris sit up, and slowly tip water into his mouth. 

He finishes the last of it, and I give the empty flask back to Shura to return to the sack. I then sit the boy against a tree, and, keeping my eyes on him, get to my feet with a worried sigh.

"We'd better hurry then," Shura says softly. I nod and, after gathering up the bow and arrows, we head off without another moment's hesitation.

We end up treading through the forest for quite a while. Shura and I spot what appears to be a deer in the distance, but as it runs away, I tell him that my bow probably wasn't strong for an animal that large, anyway. 

I eventually find a rabbit hole, and Shura and I wait patiently outside it, hidden behind different trees. Remembering my dad's instructions, I control my breathing to make it as quiet and relaxed as possible, and turn all my focus into looking for any small movement nearby. And then I hear it - a tiny rustle, somewhere in the ground. A small grey rabbit hops into view, and I swiftly take aim.

I let go of the arrow.

*

"Homura, I want to discuss something with you." 

"What is it?" I ask Shura; even though he is behind me, I don't slow down to let him catch up with me. After obtaining two rabbits, we are finally making our way back to where we left Idris; and in our mutual worry for him, all we are focussing on now is getting back as quickly as possible - so his out-of-the-blue request surprises me.

He jogs until he catches up with me, and then matches my pace. "I called you a burden before, and you've very clearly proved me wrong," he tells me, earnestly. "I'm pretty sure we wouldn't be getting anywhere right now, if it wasn't for you." He pauses. "Thank you."

It's the least thing I expected to hear out of such a stubborn mouth, and I can't help but feel even more surprised. "I'm just doing what must be done in order to survive, but... you're welcome, I guess. Though not all the credit belongs to me." I look at him briefly, and then turn my eyes back to the direction in front of me, already slightly embarrassed by what I'm about to say. "Without your constant stamina and leadership, we wouldn't be getting anywhere either... so, thanks for that."

Shura hesitates, and I wonder if he's also embarrassed by my praise. "I'm just doing what must be done in order to survive... though the rest of the credit doesn't just belong to me, either." 

"Oh?" 

"Idris, of course." He tuts, as if annoyed with me for not being able to figure it out.

I smile. "Of course. He's a wonderful person to be around during these difficult times: so positive, so keen... but there is something slightly off about him that I can't seem to understand." I think back to the conversation when I told him my age, after which his mood seemed to alter for the worse - though only for a split second, before he abruptly changed the subject. I furrow my eyebrows. "He seems to be... hiding something from me. We've talked a lot, and yet... he's never once spoken about his past."

"Why should he speak about it?" Shura says gruffly, surprising me yet again.

"Why? Because he's gone through a lot, just like the rest of us - well, only two of us, now - and he chatters on so much, and it seems perfectly normal for him to talk about it. And yet he's acting as though he doesn't have anything that bothers him at all, save for the normal basic needs like hunger and thirst."

"And it's doing a lot of good for him, isn't it?"

I stare at him. "After everything I just said... Shura, are you being sarcastic?"

"Not at all." He keeps his eyes in front of him. "I think putting your past behind you is a very good tactic for dealing with something so traumatic. He can focus on what needs to be focussed on, as he is forcing himself to forget the life and the people he left behind." He pauses before continuing more softly, "Or maybe he isn't forgetting. He's just replacing." 

"What do you mean?"

"Haven't you noticed? As soon as you woke up, he made a beeline for you. And whenever he wants advice, he comes to me." 

And then I realise what he's saying. Idris' clinginess and his eager-to-please attitude... it all made sense. "He treats us like... like we're his family," I breathe. Again, I flash back to when he flinched upon hearing my age. "Did he have an older sister?" I ask, curiously. "Around the same age as me, perhaps?"

Shura nods. "Yeah, he did. Back in Kohga, we were neighbours - so I know that he lived with his father and sixteen year old sister."

"Oh... and I guess they died." I shut my eyes, feeling momentarily overwhelmed with pity. "Poor, poor child. Shura... how did you save him? What happened?"

"Remember what I said about forgetting the past?" Shura returns, his tone raised slightly. "That's another ground rule I want to lay for you. I don't want you asking questions about it - not to me, not to Idris." 

I open my mouth to protest, but Shura lifts his left hand, its palm facing towards me. "Just don't." He glances up. "Besides, we're here."

A spit is built up, and a fire made. The rabbits are skinned, gutted and cooked, and then shared between the three of us. 

It's gone within seconds.

"Ah well," Shura says, roughly dragging his hand across his jaw as we all get to our feet. "It'll be enough to keep us going."

"Hm," I reply, not really listening. 

We set off, and I can't stop thinking about Inaba. Not just her, but... the way she died. Her desperate, hacking coughs echo in my mind. No matter what Shura says, I know I can't just forget something like that. In fact...

"Shura, I need to talk to you."

"I could tell you were preoccupied by something. What is it?" he asks, slowing down to let me catch up. 

I reach his side, and take a deep breath. "It's about Inaba."

"Homura," he snaps, glaring at me. "I strictly told you not to mention her."

"But this is important," I object, irritated. Without waiting for him to argue back, I continue, "Shura, she was coughing after eating meat found in a hunter's trap, right? I don't think her body would give such an immediate reaction if the rabbit was simply old. What I'm trying to get at, is... it was more as if she'd been poisoned. And if that's the case, then where would Reia, Kai and Goto get poison from? It doesn't make sense."

Shura stares at me, then halts completely. "Poison..." he murmurs. Then, suddenly, he turns to Idris. "Idris, you told us the rabbit was found in a hunter's trap. Do you know what this 'trap' looked like?"

Idris furrows his eyebrows, pondering hard. I realise how hard it must be for him to remember something like this, as he has spent so much time teaching himself how to forget. But it seems to come back to him when he looks up at Shura and replies, "Yeah; I didn't see it, but the others were talking about how odd it was. There were loads of small, spiky bits of metal lodged in the ground which the rabbit got caught on, and apparently they had a weird smell, too. That's why..." He hesitates, and gulps. "That's why they gave most of the meat to Inaba. Because they were scared."

Shura brings a cupped hand to his mouth, and turns away, his eyes fixated on the space in front of him. 

"Shura? What is it?" I demand.

He pauses. "Shuriken. Caltrops, laced with poison... that is no animal trap."

"Then you mean..."

"They were intentionally put in the ground to poison and kill not animals, but people."

 We all freeze as it all finally dawns on us. 

"Mokushu," I breathe. I turn to Shura, suddenly feeling panic-stricken. "Shura, the massacre wasn't enough. They're leaving traps around Kohga to try and kill us all off - every last one of us."

He stares at me for a while, and then turns to the direction we were originally walking in, his hand still over his mouth. "It might be better if we don't take this route; in a forest, it's hard to notice well-placed traps. There'd be less risk if we walk around it instead." He removes his hand and uses his finger to point left. "We'll go this way."

We walk for a while in the new, pointed direction, this time trying to be more wary of our surroundings. Suddenly, Shura shoots an arm out in front of me, causing me and Idris to freeze in fright. "Right there, on the ground in front of us," he mutters. "Caltrops. Follow me, we'll walk around."

As we continue to walk on, I can't help but feel more fearful than before. I was looking around carefully at the time, I'm certain I was - and yet I didn't notice the trap. 

This was feeling more dangerous by the minute. 

"Homura..." Idris whispers, making me jump.

"What?" I ask him, tensely. "You are helping us keep watch for traps, right?"

He sighs. "Yeah, it's just... I feel a bit sick."

"Would you like some water?" I offer.

"Yes please."

*

It's late in the afternoon when finally, the border of the forest comes into view. Relief overwhelms me and I can't help but break into a run, desperate to get out of the dangerous forest. 

Once I'm out, I end up exhaling loudly, just from the sheer relief. "You know, I never thought I'd be so happy to be underneath this sun again," I grin, as soon as Shura and Idris join me on the grass.

"Even better... look over there," Shura smiles, pointing behind me. 

I turn around and catch my breath. For in the distance, a large castle can be seen, surrounded by enormous trees and what appears to be several collections of small houses.

"Izumo," Shura tells me simply, standing next to me. "The castle we are seeing now is inhabited by the new archbishop Izana, unless I'm mistaken. They're neutral in the war, and so I'm sure they'd be more than happy to offer us resources and transport."

"That's great," I grin, but then turn to Shura slowly. "Though Shura... are you sure we can't just stay in Izumo?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. Like I said, Hoshido is, in the long term, a better place to live. Unless..." He pauses and looks at me, raising an eyebrow. "Unless you think Izumo is where we should part ways."

All this time, the prospect of leaving Shura had never occurred to me. And, now that I think about it... the idea doesn't appeal to me at all. "No. No, I'll stay with you," I decide, firmly. "We've come so far after all."

Shura gives me a half-smile. "Well then," he says, turning his gaze to the distant castle. "Let's not wait any longer. Come on."

"Hang on... Idris." I turn around, curious as to why he is no longer beside us; to my surprise, he's a small distance away from us, sitting in the grass and hugging his knees to his face. I walk over to him, concerned. "Idris?" 

He mumbles something incomprehensible into his knees, and I kneel down beside him. Shura joins me, looking puzzled. "Idris, what's the matter?" I ask again, touching his shoulder lightly with my finger. 

He still doesn't remove his face from his knees; I strain to hear his words. "I don't know... I'm sick, I'm tired... I don't know why, but I just... I just want to sleep..."

I share an apprehensive glance with Shura. "Idris, if you really feel as though you can't go any longer, then I can carry you," Shura offers.

Idris nods, and slowly raises a distressingly tear-stricken face. His eyes are still half-shut as he weakly lifts his arms. Shura hesitates, clearly shocked by the tears, but then turns around, reaches his arms backwards and helps the small boy onto his back.

It's when Shura gets to his feet, causing Idris' worn trousers to hitch up slightly, that I see it. 

'It' is a tiny but prominent red pinprick on his ankle.

"Wait." I inhale sharply. "Idris, what's this spot on your leg?" I step forward and gently run my finger across his ankle.

He cranes his neck around to see. "Oh... I don't know. I think... I just... pricked myself on something, when I tripped last night. It... doesn't really hurt, so I wasn't worried about it..." A frightened look falls over his face all of a sudden. "Wait... should I have been worried about it?" 

I can't help but notice how slurred his speech is - it's almost as if he's drunk. In fact, now that I think about it, he's been speaking in this way for a while now. "Shura..." I whisper, feeling more scared the longer I looked at this malignant red spot.

Shura lowers Idris back to the ground again, and rolls up the trembling boy's trouser leg. Upon seeing the pinprick, he doesn't say anything, only stares at it.

"Do you think... when I fell... a trap..." Idris' panic-stricken eyes fill with tears once again. "But... that means I'm going to... just like the pretty lady..."

He's talking about Inaba. And he's already forgotten her name.

Shura picks him up again, and we run.

We'll never make it to Izumo in time. I try to keep up with Shura and that's all I can think of. By now Idris is so physically drained, he is slumped over Shura's back, his eyes closed. It's almost as if...

"Shura," I pant. "Shura, stop!"

I don't even wait for him to stand still completely before I grab Idris and take him off his back. I kneel on the floor and set the limp boy across my lap. 

"Is he...?" Shura whispers, crouching beside me, his eyes fixed on Idris.

"No... no, he isn't. He's breathing, look..." I say, and even though it's true, for some reason tears have started to gather up in my eyes.

"Then return him to my back and let's hurry!" 

"No, wait... he's trying to say something..."

Shakily, I lower my ear to his barely moving lips. 

"...Ah...mah...ris." 

"Amaris?" I turn my face to Shura. "What is he...?" I stop when I see his face. He's staring at me - and there are tears glistening in his eyes. "Shura...?"

Idris' face suddenly slumps on its side, onto my arm. I swerve my head around quickly. "...No. No, no, no. He's not... he isn't..." Through my opaque vision, I barely catch water streaming down his cheek. "Look, Shura, he's crying. He isn't... I mean, if he's crying, he can't be..."

"Homura..." I can only faintly hear Shura saying my name. Something else is occupying my attention. The water on his cheek... it isn't coming from him.

"Oh, gods..." I can't breathe. I'm choking up. 

"Homura, those aren't his tears."

"Oh, gods..." I raise my watery eyes and look at Shura, whose own tears are now streaming down his face. "Idris, he..."

Amaris.

"...He died thinking I was his sister."

*

There's something left that I need to do.

We went to Izumo. We recieved food, water, new clothes and permission to board a ship travelling North. We'd also recieved a warning that Hoshido wasn't accepting refugees at this time, so don't expect to be welcomed in - but Shura ignored this information and so we took the ship anyway.

We successfully carried out all of Shura's plans, and we are now on our way to Hoshido. 

But everything is all wrong, because there is still something I need to do. Something unknown, that going to Hoshido wouldn't sort out at all. I can't bear this feeling, I can't take it. I've been unable to shake it off during the entire journey so far, and it's taken me this long to realise that I need to face the feeling head on in order to know what it is.

But I still don't know.

"Shura," I murmur. I can't help but notice how ironic it is that, despite Idris being gone, someone is still going to Shura for advice. It's so ironic, I would laugh if I had the strength - but for some reason, I'm lying in a bed with hardly any strength whatsoever.

I think I fell ill at some point when our journey in the ship began, a few days ago. But I'm sure it'll pass, or something.

"What is it?" Shura walks towards me, and kneels at my bedside. It's an oddly nostalgic moment.

"This may sound odd and incredibly unimportant to you, but I feel so incomplete. We can't go to Hoshido yet, because I need to do something... I just don't know what it is, though."

"It isn't unimportant to me - and it isn't odd either. In fact, I know why you feel this way." Shura sighs. "You need to leave your past behind, Homura. That's what I was trying to emphasise all this time. If you don't forget the life you lived, you will continue to have this feeling. If you don't force yourself to forget the people you lost, you won't ever be able to move on."

No, it's not that. My head might be burning up right now, but I know for sure that he's wrong. 

Shura looks up at me and seems to understand whatever face expression I'm making. "I know you're doubting me," he says.

"I am doubting you. And do you know why?" Feeling a new surge of emotion, I try to sit up, but upon overestimating my strength, I simply stay propped up on one elbow, facing Shura. "I'm doubting you because you're wrong. I'm doubting you because those people... they're not worth forgetting." Tears well up in my eyes. "Inaba was gentle and sweet. Toda dedicated his life to loving and taking care of someone that others would simply push away. And Idris..." A sob breaks out. "...He was a light in the dark."

"Homura..."

"No, Shura, you listen to me. Do you know what I'm doing with all this grief? I'm turning it into anger. Toda, Inaba, Idris, my parents... all the Kohgans... they didn't deserve to die - but I'll tell you who does."

"Homura, that isn't..."

"I don't know what sort of barrier you're holding up inside that stubborn head of yours, and I don't care either, because I'm about to break it down." My tears are hot and my anger is bubbling, but I'm not stopping now - not when I'm about to find out. "Mokushu! It's all Mokushu, Shura. You know it, don't you? You just don't want to face the fact that you're aching, too... You know exactly how I feel, but you don't want to face it."

It's all flooding through me: the fire, the screams, the terror. 

"Shura. Don't you just want them... to burn?" A wild grin takes over my face. I can't help it. I know now. "Don't you want to run through their barracks and just burn them all? Give them a taste of... the horror we went through."

"So that's what it is," Shura says, quietly. "Revenge." He looks away.

"Embrace it, Shura." In my excitement, I lean closer to him. "Stop stuffing the past away. Take it out, use it; and when we're ready, me and you, we'll go and burn them all."

"Homura..." He can't meet my eyes. He still can't accept it. 

I reach out, grasping both sides of his face with my hands, forcing him to look at me.

He has to realise.

"They're not gonna get away with this, you hear me Shura? In retaliation for the spirits of Kohga; we're gonna make them burn. Mokushu will fall, and we will be the ones to make it happen."

Now he's looking at me, now he's taking in what I'm saying. I can see it in his eyes; they're ablaze with the same feeling. 

The feeling... 

It's a burning desire for revenge.

***

After a few more days, Homura's illness finally takes her. Shura continues onwards by himself to Hoshido, where he is denied entry. He then turns around and travels to Nohr instead, and ends up spending around ten years there living a life of crime, due to the kingdom's harsh conditions. And after that? We all know where it goes from there... 

Thank you for reading! 

It's my first attempt at fanfiction - and also a one-shot, for that matter - and the story ended up being a LOT longer than I expected. But I sincerely hope you enjoyed reading it!

- (Inspired by the FireEmblemAwards summer promptest. Thank you so much for motivating me to write!) -