I ask the others about sadness. Do they know about it? What do they think about it? After asking fourteen of them, it becomes clear that none of them know what sadness is. So I go to ask a handler. They usually tell us not to speak to them unless it's necessary, but now I have a question to ask, so I ask one about it. They tell me I don't need to think about it. As I continue to stand, I think over the response. I know I don't need to think about it. But when I feel sad, it becomes hard not to. Even if it isn't necessary, it is still something I feel from time to time, and I don't understand it at all.
I continue to stand outside during the day, but no people come past anymore. Maybe I should go somewhere else? I walk into the empty space in front of our building. It extends a long distance off in either direction. Since there are no differences, I turn right and begin walking.
Eventually, I stop and look back. I have already traveled so far, I'm fifty paces away. Looking back, I see the building we live in from a distance for the first time. It looks similar to the other buildings, except that it is made of gray stone instead of brown wood. The other buildings are taller though. They also have little paths leading to doors high off the ground. I can still see the wooden door I exited from. It's the only door I can see on my building.
I consider going on, but I've already made it so far today, I start to get nervous and quickly return. I continue to wait by the empty path until the sun begins to go down, and the whistle sounds again.
The next day, I explore further. This time, I go one hundred paces before turning back. As I stand there again, I realize I have some other unknown feeling bubbling up within me. How many of these feelings are there? What are they?
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Over the following days, I steadily increase my walking distance. There are tiny paths between the buildings, but most don't seem to lead anywhere. Then I reach a new big path for the first time. It is all the way, four hundred paces from my home. As I look in either direction down the big path I've found, I see some people again. But being so far away makes me so nervous, my heart is actually beating rapidly. Unable to take the powerful feeling washing over me, I dash back to my building. I stand by the door, breathing heavily for some reason. I've never felt something so strong before. Feelings can be like that? Just thinking that makes me feel something else I don't recognize.
I don't know what the feeling is, but I don't like it. And for some reason, my cheeks start to get wet. There is something wrong with my eyes, no matter how much I wipe them, more stinging liquid comes out of them.
"Hey, what's wrong?" I look up at the sudden loud voice.
Standing right there on the path in front of the building, is a person. This is the first time an outside person has spoken to me. Judging from what I know about how people look, this one is a boy. He is taller than me, with smudges of dirt all over him, and fluffy blond hair. Two more boys walk back, looking at the first boy.
"Hey Joe, what is it?" They both follow his gaze and look over at me. They are about the same size as him, taller than me. But I'm too small, so comparing to the other rail units, these boys are shorter. Meaning, they should be younger than me?
As they walk over, I stand there, unsure of what to do. Should I say something back? He did ask me a question. Is there something wrong? Not that I know of, so I try to answer his question.
"No, I don't think there's anything wrong."
His face makes a strange look. "Uhh, then why are you standing here alone, crying? Did you get lost?"
I don't know what 'crying' is, but still try to answer his question. It takes me a moment to figure out what getting lost might mean, then I answer, "No."
"Maybe she made her parents mad and they yelled at her or something?" One of the other boys suggests. I look back and forth between them. I don't know what he means. They look at me again. It sounded like a question, but I don't know what he is asking.
"I don't know," is all I can say in response.
"Hey guys, do you smell that?" the third one chimes in. The other two lean around, eventually sniffing me and withdrawing back.
"Woah, and I thought my Dad smelled bad."
"When was the last time you washed yourself?" the blond boy asks.
I don't understand this question either, but there is only one part that is confusing. I think that if I can understand his meaning, maybe I can answer this one. "What does 'washed' mean?" I ask. From context, I can assume it has something to do with how things smell, but I don't know how those are related if I don't know what the word means. For some reason, the three boys back away from me a little. Their faces make the same look that I saw on a number of other people's faces before. For some reason, the look makes me feel bad.
"That decides it, we're taking her with us. If her family didn't show her how to wash herself properly, then that'll be our job for today," the blond boy announces. He has a different look now than any I've seen before. I wonder what it means. Clearly, these people communicate with each other using their faces. They must be, why else would they keep changing how they look all the time?
"Good one, talking all big when you hardly ever wash yourself!" one of the other boys says in response.
The boy takes my hand then, holding it in his. "My name is Joe. These are my brothers, Ken and Jeff." He gestures to each boy behind him as he introduces them. "What's your name?" That's right, people have names.
"1A." Since I don't have a name, that is the closest thing, since it's used to uniquely identify me.
"Wunay? What a weird name!" His mouth turns up at the outer edges as he says this. It looks interesting. I wiggle my lips, but can't get them to make that shape.
"Come on, let's go already," Ken says. With his hand still holding mine, Joe begins to walk, pulling me along lightly. Since they are taller than me, I need to take more steps to keep up with them.
I'm very surprised how far and fast we move. Before I know it, we've passed that big path I made it to after days of practice. We keep going, suddenly passing by people as they weave through the crowd. All at once, I'm surrounded by people on all sides, their loud voices calling out and strange words I don't understand flying all around me.
The whole situation feels immediately overwhelming, so I hold tightly to Joe's hand as he pulls us through. I bump into people who move across our path, but with my training and small size, it isn't too difficult to make it through the gaps at the people's feet.
By this point, the distance we have traveled is unlike anything I could imagine before. How far away are things outside? Eventually we make our way out of the crowds of people. The loose stones beneath our feet crackle and rattle distinctly as we speed up and start to run. More wooden buildings surround the path as we make a few turns. We pass a few smaller groups of people on either side of the path as we run past. A few glance at us briefly, but do not move beyond that.
Suddenly, the boys all call out, "Hi Aunt Rachel!" and wave their hands in the air as they run. I see an older person, over by a building looking and waving back. "Going for your spring wash?" she calls as we approach.
"Yeah!" they all shout back. We pass by her, not stopping as we continue on our way.
"Who's your little friend?" she calls from behind.
"Wunay!" This time just Joe yells back. I look back at the older person. This one... is a woman. Since the boys know her name, they must be acquainted. As I run away with the boys, I look back and meet her eyes. Her eyes narrow, some kind of recognition of something, but then I lose sight of her as we pass into another crowded area. As we continue running, I realize that just then, I was able to understand something just by looking at her face.
Just up ahead, a much larger structure stands. Stone at its base, changing to wood higher up. It's more than double the height of the buildings. A large wall. When I see it, I remember that they taught us about it. It's the wall that protects the city from everyday threats.
We slow down as we approach. "Hey, Wunay, are you ok?"
"Yes," I answered simply.
His mouth turns up at the edges again. "You don't look like it."
"She's shaking like a leaf!" Jeff chimes in. "Of course a kid like that won't be able to keep up running all the way through town!"
Is he referring to my breathing? I am panting heavily, my throat hurts, and I can't really feel my legs. It's vaguely unpleasant I guess?
"Come on, hold on." Joe picks me up and holds me on his back. "Geh, what's with her clothes? They're as stiff as a board!" he complains. As I hold on around his shoulders, I can feel that he is not shaking or breathing heavily.
Now I understand, they can run because they're bigger and stronger than me. Just like how everyone is bigger and beats me in sparring. As I hold onto his shoulders, I feel his warmth, and find myself becoming drowsy. I don't normally sleep now, but for some reason I have much less energy than usual around this time. And his warmth naturally reminds me of the warmth of everyone I sleep on.
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Before I know it, a hand is shaking me. It feels soft below me, so I haven't been pushed onto the floor. I'm a little confused about what's happening. I open my eyes to see Joe, the boy who was carrying me before. Right, that's what I was doing. This 'wash' thing. It seems that I'm sitting on some springy green stuff. I've heard about it, I think. This is called 'grass'. I've never seen it before, so it's kind of surprising. It's softer than anything I've ever sat down on before. I look down at it. Green with tiny pointy blades all sticking up from the ground. So this is what grass looks like.
"Come on," he grabs my attention and pulls me to my feet. When I look around, I find that I'm in a new location. I can see the gate and wall a long- wait, I guess not such a long distance away. I turn around and jolt at what I see. Soup is flowing along the ground?!
"What, you aren't scared of the river or something, are you?" one of the boys asks.
"River?" I ask it as a question. That's what this thing is, a river?
"You know, the river that goes by, all our moms use the water to wash all the clothes?"
Water? Moms? Wash? Washing clothes? What are all these things I've never heard of before? "I don't understand." That's all I can say. I don't understand why, but I'm starting to get nervous again. Then there's another feeling. Just like earlier, something begins to run from my eyes, down my cheeks.
"Aww, don't cry, it's fine." He wipes my cheeks, and says, "you gotta smile!" His mouth curls up again. Smile? Is that a smile? One more time, I try to mimic him, but can't really make my face move much.
"Uh huh..." he mutters while making some other face I don't understand. "Anyway, let's get you washed-"
"What are you doing!?" I hear a shout. Joe's face changes so quickly at the voice that I'm surprised it's possible. We both turn to look, just in time for another person to come running in from the side. This one is a bit smaller than the boys, somewhat closer to my size. This person is a girl. She grabs Joe by his clothes as he puts his arms up at his sides for some reason. "You shouldn't be bullying little girls!"
"I'm not, I'm not!" he cries out as she jerks him back and forth.
She briefly stops shaking him to look at me, then goes back to shaking him. "Then why is she crying!?" Her voice is incredibly loud, way louder than even the people walking around earlier.
"I don't know, I'm trying to cheer her up!" His head flops around from her shaking as he speaks quickly. With that, she drops her hands from Joe and faces me, leaning down a little so we look directly into each other's eyes. She leans in much closer than the boys did earlier.
Before she says anything though, her face changes and she backs up while bringing her hand up to her face. "What in the world is that smell?" All the boys point at me.
"Told you she smells bad," Ken comments.
"You three..." the boys back up slightly as she faces them. "If you think she smells bad, consider what she smells like to other people!"
"That's why we brought her here to wash with us," Joe sighs.
"Oh, that's surprisingly... I mean, do you really think that you three will be able to get her clean?" I notice that halfway through her words, her face suddenly changes again before she continues speaking in a different tone. I wonder why? I'm looking back and forth between them repeatedly as they speak. Something about watching them begins to fill me with another feeling, but this one is a good one! Then without warning she turns to me again.
"Anyway, who is she? Where are her parents? How old is she?" She takes her hand and holds it above my head, moving it up and down as if comparing her height to mine. I might not understand all of her questions, but I answer what I can.
"I'm 1A. I'm fourteen years old." That's my best guess at least, since we seem to be near combat age, but not quite there yet.
"Pff!" All four of them have the same response. They start making strange "Haha" noises while their faces scrunch up.
"Hahaha...?" I imitate, still not understanding.
"She seems dazed and confused most of the time, who'da thought she had a sense of humor?" Ken says while holding his sides and continuing to make strange noises.
After a little while, they stop. The girl is the first to speak. "Anyway, I'm Mary. Since I can't trust these boys to do a good job, I'll help get you clean." She puffs her chest out as she says this. I still don't understand what 'wash' and 'clean' are, but I guess she'll show me.
"Come on now, let's get going." Mary claps her hands and the boys all start stripping off their clothes. Mary does the same, so I follow along as well. Once we're all stripped down, the children jump into the river. I look after them for a few moments. The river is strange, it's full of liquid like soup, clear enough that I can see down to the rocks on the bottom. But it also moves, shining in the sun as it goes off into the distance. I hesitate just a moment for my observations before jumping in too.
Cold! The whole thing is freezing cold. My body starts shivering and shaking immediately. It doesn't flow too quickly, but it comes all the way up to my chest so I wobble for a bit while trying to stay upright. The kids splash around, clearly shaking as well.
"The water's always so cold in spring!" Joe howls. They all quickly start to rub themselves vigorously with small pieces of cloth. Water? This stuff that looks like soup is water? I put some in my mouth. It mostly tastes like soup, I wonder what the difference is? Soon, Mary finishes with herself. She comes over to me and starts scrubbing me. I can't really feel it much at first, between the layers of filth that I can now see coming off of me, and the numbing chill of the water. The others soon join in.
"Woah, she's so pale under all that dirt," Ken says. After a short time, it seems that they have gotten a good bit of the dirt off of my skin, but they begin to slow down.
"Are those... bruises?" Mary asks softly. I look around at the children, they are making more strange faces I don't understand while looking at each other. Without saying anything else, and they stop scrubbing my skin and start to roughly scrub out my hair. They are much more quiet now. As they go, they regularly squeeze out the rags, brownish black sludge coming out. Then they dip it back in the clean water and continue. Over time, he rags themselves keep getting darker until they are so dirty they aren't much use in cleaning me anymore.
"Her hair just keeps getting lighter, I thought it was dark brown, but it's all dirt..." Mary mumbles. "What color is your hair, Wunay?"
"I don't know... I don't remember." It's been like this for so long, I never really knew it was any other way. No one has a response to that. They just keep trying to scrub it out for a little longer.
"Well, these are all used up, let's get out before we get too cold," Mary instructs. We all get out again, but the wind blowing past is even colder than the river. Everyone quickly shakes off before putting their clothing back on. I continue following their example and do the same.
So that's what a wash is. It gets the dirt off of your skin and hair. While I struggle to get back into my brown robe because it's still very stiff, I hear someone walk over and begin to talk to the kids.
"That's where you all are. Come now, don't put those dirty clothes back on when you just got clean..." I manage to pull my head through the neck of my robe and look over. There is another new person, this one a woman. She's taller and looks older. She is digging through a large basket she has slung under one arm. She draws a few bundles of clothing from the basket and throws them to the children, who start changing again and passing her the dirty ones.
Now that I know what washing is, I can tell the difference between their clean and dirty clothes. While it isn't a big difference, the dirty ones have numerous green marks and dark brown splotches here and there. The clean ones seem to have a kind of mottled, splotchy colors as well, but they are very faint by comparison.
"What about Wunay? It seems like her parents don't really take care of her," Mary says, looking over at me with another face I don't understand.
The older woman looks around briefly, her eyes falling on me. "This girl here?" she questions. "Wunay, what a strange name." She looks me up and down, while I look back blanky. Then our eyes meet. She stares for a bit, her eyes narrowing. I saw that same look earlier. It means understanding something?
Suddenly, her voice comes out strange and shaky. "You, what is your full designation?"
"AR1A," I respond automatically. We were always taught to give our full unique identifier to people who ask for it.
"Kids, we're going now!" She snaps. I keep seeing that expression on the people's faces, the unpleasant one that feels bad... Though they complain, the children are quickly taken away. I stand for some time. The bad feeling isn't going away. It's just like sadness, but with more bad feelings added on top. Actually, it seems like it's getting worse as I stand here. I need to do something else. So I try looking around to get my mind on something else.
There are more people around the river. They all move around doing different things. When I see more women with baskets like that one, I walk a little closer. The bad feeling eases as I begin to pay attention to something else. They are taking the water into small buckets and other big, circular wooden containers, with various tools, and scrub and wring out the clothing. Like earlier, I can see the dark, dirty water they wring out flow down the river, becoming clearer with each successive iteration. So that's how they wash clothing, it seems.
It doesn't take long watching before the people notice me, and they all move away again. It still makes me feel bad... But even so, it is very surprising how many things I can learn just by watching people do things. Now that I've walked so much further than ever before, it feels like I will be able to learn many more things.
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I snap to attention. The whistle! I turn to where I heard it. It's time for lunch. If I don't get food, my mana will go down! I'm immediately nervous, extremely nervous. Way more nervous than I've ever been before. I have never missed food before. There are a vague mix of other unpleasant emotions I don't really recognize, but the overall effect pushes me to dash back toward the town as fast as I can.
I travel much faster than when I was running with those boys earlier. Soon I'm back at the gate, dashing through the legs of all the people traveling through the narrow passage. Suddenly, a large hand closes on my arm and drags me to a stop. I turn back momentarily. A person with metal armor holds onto my arm tightly, it actually kind of hurts a little. Our eyes meet and he jumps back, releasing me. So I turn and continue running as fast as I can.
I may not know my way through the town, but I have an exact location in my mind where the whistle came from, so I head directly toward that spot. I fly past people as I go. They all get the same look when they notice me barreling past. I quickly get a feel for it, this one is surprise.
Before I know it, I've arrived. I wrench the large wooden door open and go inside. The lunch line is almost done going through. I quickly start to move to the end of the line, but stagger. My knees strike the stone floor as I pant, unable to take in enough air. What I do get burns like fire all the way down my throat and into my lungs. I can't hear anything over the pounding of my heart and the rush of blood in my head.
I push myself back to my feet anyway, but my legs have no strength, they don't want to move at all. I barely manage to limp to the lunch line. When I get to the table, I scramble desperately to reach my tray, hardly able to lift myself up over the lip of the table. I hold the tray up as usual, receive my food, take two steps past the end of the table, and collapse face first. My hands still hold the tray aloft, so I wriggle myself around on the floor until I can get into my usual cross-leg sitting position.
My vision goes blurry, I barely manage to eat my bread and drink my soup, struggling for breath the entire time. I crawl over toward the fire place, clambering over the ones on the floor. Unlike usual, I do not wake up at all until the next whistle.