The next twelve days passed in a flash. Each morning, Willard would head out into the ashen streets, search for jobs, get disappointed, search some more, and get spat on when people saw his I.M.O card. No pity for the damned, only disgust at a fellow competitor. It went without saying that no vendors would give him anything when he showed them that card. But, as people always do, he found a way to bypass it. At noon, he’d help out around the street stalls in commercial district and earn himself a kebab here, an overly-oily slice of fat there, and some chewy brown bread crusts, to the dissatisfaction of the local vagrants. It wasn’t much, but at least better than nothing. Then he’d make a trip back to the container unit, leave all his spoils with Adrian, and return to his fruitless job hunt. He’d do so until fires started burning inside trashcans, and spend the rest of the night with June, talking to their heart’s content.

They’d talk about Sorissu’s history, Mors’s supposed oppressive authoritarian regime, Bagiraek’s flowers, and all the things that Willard had previously disregarded as irrelevant to his life. The more they joked and laughed together, the more Willard grew aware of just how alive she was. She didn’t belong in Sorissu, with the refugees, debtors, and desperate people like him. She had a dream, one she didn’t let die. It had surprised Willard when she said it. Her, being the flamboyant, eccentric girl whose motives eluded him, wanted to know what it would be like to walk across a beach. What would hot sand feel like under one’s soles? Would it be prickly? Willard was certain he had been on beaches in Bagiraek before, many times. Yet he had forgotten everything about them. When he had finally brought himself to mention it, she had smiled in that understanding way mother often did.

She never mentioned anything about her past, making crass jokes at her legs when their conversations reached them, but that was all that was revealed. Willard felt like he had known her for his entire life, but also barely knew her as herself.

On the afternoon of the thirteenth day at A6, when the clouds turned an ugly grey unrecognizable from the exterior iron pipework around the houses, Willard had stridden into the bar. Somehow, in these brief two weeks, he had felt motivated to move again. As usual, there were no one in there, so Willard hopped onto his usual seat at the very far end of the counter. June had gone to work on the drink, unusually silent. There was something different today, and with his prior experience with all his job-hunting, he knew it probably wasn’t anything good. But he couldn’t imagine a scenario where June would be down. She finished, poured him half a cup and watched him sip the drink with his eyes closed.

“Willard.” Her voice was surprisingly dry, devoid of the childlike playfulness Willard had grown so accustomed to.

“Have you been following the news lately?”

“Well…” Willard rubbed his neck.

“They say there’s gonna be another war. Seems like that freak accident at Ferah was framed as an M.S.S.P attack. The Coalition’s trying to use this chance to halt the exchange.”

“What?” Willard found his drink bland all of a sudden.

“Anyways, I bought this.” She tossed him two chips. “Cadet chips for the Bagiraekian Militia.”

“You signed me up for the army?” Willard laughed.

“It’s optional. They still need your biometric thumbprint, after all.” She emptied two bottles into a beaker and stirred them, nonchalant as always. “You should take it.”

“What do you mean? Doesn’t that mean leaving Sorissu?”

“Exactly.” She shrugged, “that’s what you planned for all along, right? To send your brother off to Erste. Now they’re offering to halve the tuition of the children of any civilian volunteers who enlist.”

“Wait.” Willard rubbed his temples. She was being serious. Everything was happening way too fast. The predicatble life he thought he had made after arriving at A6 was suddenly on the brink of shattering. Moving. To someplace new. Meeting new people. Learning new tongues. Being bogged down by a new set of problems without prior experience. It frightened him. But…isn’t this what he wanted? It was certainly what he wanted for Adrian. But is it what he wanted for himself? On that note, has he ever wanted something for himself, and only himself? It was as though his entire life until now was just a great big rolling avalanche of selflessness.

“But…heh…you know, they might not accept me. I’ve got bad lungs.” He gave a weak smile.

“They couldn’t care less. This entry chip’s proof.”

“…”

“I don’t see why you’d hesitate,” she said, setting down the bottles and gliding in front of him. “It’s a perfect chance. A new life. It’s exactly what you wanted, right?”

“Then why didn’t you als-”

“Debt.”

“Oh. Right.”

Always that invisible hand around one’s neck, waiting for the perfect moment to squeeze. Willard knew that all too well. Fortunately Kimotah Incorporated had hastily abandoned all of its industries in Sorissu and absolved all of its “unimportant debts”, relocating its headquarters back to Mors continent soon after the Ferah incident. Mother’s insurance and the I.M.O somehow took care of the rest of Willard’s existing charges, and he had become a free man overnight. It happened during his time in bed and he had dismissed the news as another piece of worthless trivia. Though, looking back on it now, it was frightening just how quickly his life changed.

June smiled. “All I’m offering is a choice. Tomorrow at this time, you’d either be here, mopping the floor of this pretty little establishment, or on the last return-ship to Erste, heading towards a new world of uncertainties. Would you stay here, with me? Or would you go, for Adrian?”

“Why would you tell me this?”

“It was the right thing to do.”

Willard stood up and paced around the room. He wanted to curse, to punch something. Of course he knew what he had to do. His rationality wouldn’t let him pick anything else, and June knew it. Why? The two of them were so happy around each other. Why would she do it? Everything was sand again, seeping out from his grasp.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“Weren’t you the one who told me to treasure these moments?” He found himself frustrated more with her than his choice.

“And you did, as I did.” Nonchalant as ever.

“No.” Willard shook his head, “No. No.”

“Want me to apologize?” June grinned. “You know I won’t.”

Deep down, Willard knew he should be thankful. She had just offered him the best opportunity of his life. She had just realized his dream for Adrian. All he’d have to do now is board the morning train to the Vaharach Harbor with Adrian. But it would mean leaving Sorissu. Leaving his usual life. It was not that he’d be leaving much behind, just the only thing that breathed fresh life back into his miserable being. Deep down his mind was made up way before the choice was offered. Yet a part of him clung desperately onto the girl before him, the real him. It was clear now, what he wanted. A life…no, a simple relationship with June would be enough. Enough to make his heart beat, his eye sparkle, and his smiles genuine again. Yet he was obliged to do otherwise. He’d never live with himself if he turned this chance down.

Always the giver, aren’t we?

Shutup.

“The moment you gave the chip to me, you knew what I’d do.” Willard stared at her. It was a statement, thrown at her with the little spite he could muster.

“…yes.” There was a crack in her calm voice.

“…I don’t want to go.”

“Then don’t.”

“I can’t.”

“Of course you can. It’s your life, isn’t it? Not Adrian’s; not mine.”

“You’re using me. You know I’m not selfish.”

“I’m teaching you a lesson.”

The two fell silent for what seemed like a lifetime.

“…will I see you again?” Willard forced his eyes from focusing on hers.

“If fate wills it.”

He stood up and walked to the front door, stopping at the entrance. It was that fleeting feeling all over again. His happiness never lasted. Hugs always ended with parting. For what little time he had with the warmth he yearned for, he would have to abandon it once more.

“I’ll be going now,” he said without turning. He waited, but no response came.

Say something, dammit!

Willard walked back into the freezing darkness, into the evening draft sweeping across the barren streets.

To Willard’s despair, June was right. The Bagiraekan agencies that sponsor Sorissian news had been rolling the same adverts for more than a week now. The basic gist was: enlist, be rewarded. Inducements include discounts for accommodations, halved tuition for two family members, something called a “volunteer pass”, and all the other trivial privileges for the military. Willard reached the application department via TochNet, and realized everything was exactly as June had told him. A work contract with everything filled out beforehand, the only thing that needed him to do was at the little line at the bottom where his signature would go. Only difference was, there were so little actual info asked it felt more of a casual online-test rather than a service application form.

The reason for the enlistment promotion was not stated explicitly. Most firms framed it as an “opportunity to serve the nation”. Like June had said, the real reason was probably political conflict between Erste and Jeris, the two world powers. Though, the prospects of an actual war was near nonexistent, as neither had the resources to spare. Especially Erste after the escalation of terrorism and civil unrest several months back. Now he was going to throw himself headfirst into that mess.

Willard spent the rest of the night planning what he’d do once he reached Erste. There was a “returnees” section carved out specifically for people like him who had fled to Sorissu during the first Transcontinental War, where government officials would guide them step-by-step through the adjustment process, but it was too much of a free meal served on a silver platter for him to take.

Adrian had gone along in silence. A part Willard had hoped to see a bigger reaction. It was about him, after all, so he should have more urgency over his own life. In that sense, was he robbing his brother of his life, making all the decisions for him? Unimportant. If Adrian really cared, he’d understand just how much Willard has sacrificed for him.

Willard deleted the information on June’s chip and registered a new entry’s chip for himself. A part of his resented the fact that she had went along and made his decision for him, but that feeling had quickly dissipated. He knew why he had done such a seemingly pointless act—he wanted to take some urgency back into his life. It was unprecedented—something he didn’t expect himself to do.

Always the lamb, aren’t we?

The next day the brothers boarded the train to Vaharach. The black beast had taken its time, lazily rolling into the station as if it was trying to see if anyone had come to see Willard off. Neither it, nor Willard, saw anyone.

By midday they had reached the tourist settlement and made their way to the giant harbor bustling with outsiders from all over the world. It was a little more than a month after the Makobi festival, not nearly into Summer-Fever yet. Yet the docks still swarmed. All the noise, the chatter, the shouting from vendors, and the blaring speakers nearly swallowed them. On their way to the towering cruise ship the two passed several minor construction sites. There were workers behind the tape restrictors, their backs against the blue galvanized steel plates, cheap smoke rising from their mouth. The sight of them evoked a strange feeling in Willard that he couldn’t quite explain. A few months ago he could’ve easily been one of them, toiling away their lives in its endless struggles. Though right now he may be in his biggest struggle yet.

The two were led into a crowded cabin below deck that reeked of sweat, cigarettes, and cheap perfume. Judging by the size of the corridor there must’ve been more than eighty of these rooms on either side. Willard sat down next to one of the tiny windows on the side and watched the dust drift down the underside of the ramp as returning tourists and full-price ticket holders streamed onto the upper decks. Then he saw something else through the haze, smoke, and dozens of pairs of legs. On the very far end of the dock, atop the roof of the worn-down convenience store, a figure. Heavily clothed, their scarf fluttering wildly in the wind. For a brief moment, he was nearly certain their eyes met. Then his view was obstructed by another surge of people boarding the ship. When they have finally passed, the figure was gone.

Was it June? Mia? …Mother?

Willard shook his head. Now was not the time for hallucinations. Not the time to dwell on all that he has lost.

A horn blared somewhere above and stretched on for longer than Willard anticipated. The ship rocked, and the ramp was folded back. Only after the barnacles on the dock became out of arm’s reach did Willard realize what he had embarked on. He was leaving. However harsh, Sorissu had been his home for nearly two decades. He had switched his scarf-pack for a second-hand messenger bag in the Vaharach train station. Now all that remained to remind him of his life in Sorissu were Krummlae’s ring and the scars on his body.

Tak’Makahn. Ferah. The dead Alpaco tree at the very edge of the cliff.

He wondered if he would ever see them again. He forced his gaze back. All of these had passed. If he could, he would forget them. Memories were just cruel things that haunted his present, after all. Though, thinking that, he felt like having failed June.

The hollow cackles of the hag echoed in his head.

Somewhere far away, on the open waters of the Blue Citadel, a Songwhale calf’s body rose to the surface.