It took me a week to learn how to properly use a crutch.

Not applying much pressure on my bad leg was the real challenge, since I would be lying on the ground in an instant. I couldn’t keep count of how many times Honda apologized every day for it. I barely felt the pain, to be honest. The only thing that we needed was to get out these woods. The last thing I wanted was to go into the city and be exposed towards the public eye, but we had no choice. Yet, I didn’t think I could step foot in another city again and see people being shot and dragged for a couple of measly water bottles. I just couldn’t, and I made sure to tell her.

After arguing for a few days straight, Honda finally gave me two choices. Either we stayed in the woods and be caught eventually, or tried our luck in Selva, where there were less soldiers, a better chance of finding food, and for my leg to heal better. When she was irritated, her brows were wrinkled, and her fingers signed at such a fast speed that I had trouble keeping up with her words.

I sighed and sat down on a log. “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean? The Red Mamba probably thinks that you are dead.” The girl stood in front of me and placed her hands on her hips. “Don’t be foolish. Come now. We must go. We need more supplies.”

“I only want to stay there for a couple days; at least for you to find some medicine for your arm. What if it gets infected? If we’re going to stay there longer, it’s going to be dangerous. People will know who I am instantly, and then the soldiers will come for us.” The sun beat down on my back, and I wiped sweat from my forehead. “It’s not safe.”

“I’ve been there,” Honda signed, shaking her head. “When you were asleep, I had to go through it to get mangos from nearby. I saw their water pump. Civilians don’t like Khonie over there, but I can sneak us a bottle. It’s a very small city, even more so than Navu. I’ve only see five soldiers there on the streets. But for the most part, civilians don’t pay attention to us. I see my people living out there in the alleys. They find the best scraps of food there. Will you help me look?”

“Yeah, but once I’m there—“

“They will not know who you are, your Highness. It is impossible for them to single you out. What will make you look any different? The soldiers, they are stupid. You see? They cannot even grab one of our own, because they are always...always on the bottle. Being on the bottle makes you stupid. I’ve seen it before at the camp.”

I looked up at her, unimpressed. “Really?”

She gave me a sheepish grin and pulled out a blue handkerchief from her waist, shaking out it in the gentle wind. It dangled from her sticky fingers as she held it towards me, before making a tying motion with her hands.

“They’ll get suspicious. I’ll be the only one.”

Honda rolled her eyes and bit into a mango, chewing off the skin with her teeth. Juice rolled down her chin as she wiped it with her sleeve. “You won’t. Know why? Because I have been there before. You haven’t, so you don’t know.”

“You haven’t been there long enough,” I signed, standing up and stretching my sore back. “Besides, how are we going to find water?”

She shrugged. “I do not know. You are supposed to be the expert here. Did they not train you well in the army about how to handle these situations? If not, they are probably scammers and liars. Of course, I would suggest the city, since they make their own fresh water. It’s free. But if you insist, well...I cannot stop you.” A mischievous gleam appeared in her eyes as she turned away and walked down the hill. “I will be back with food.”

I stared after her for a moment, watching her figure get smaller and smaller. The heat had ruined my senses, and my mouth felt as dry as a desert. Her hand balled up the handkerchief and shoved it in the pocket of her shorts once more.

“Honda!”

Slowly, she turned around, an amused expression on her face.

With a heavy grunt, I stumbled over my feet and hobbled over to her, feeling the crutch dig against my armpit. Why did she have to walk so far away? And the way she just stood there, like I was taking forever to come over, as it was some sort of inconvenience. By the time I made it, her arms were folded, her wild curls blowing in the wind.

“Did you...” I wheezed. “Did you say free?”

“I thought the city was too dangerous. We’re leaving in a few days. Why is that concerning? You are not supposed to be here. Run, your Highness, before they see you. Sprint for the trees. The sky may fall, while you are at it. And you must avoid free stuff. Royalty does not take well to that. I think you are allergic. What if you break out?”

“Oh come on, stop playing games.”

“You are the one who is playing. And you win. I was wrong. As a matter of fact, we should run for it now. Do you hear the soldiers coming? Their footsteps...” Her eyes widened as she signed more slowly. “They are shaking the earth. Thousands of them. Look, I see the crowd. It is best we not step foot—“

“Okay, okay.” I hid a smile, fighting the urge to laugh. I didn’t want to give her the satisfaction. “Fine. I messed up. I’m wrong. You happy?”

Honda looked guilty. “Actually, it is good to be alert, but I need you to relax. Breathe. I know that all you want is for us to be safe. But I just...I just want you to trust me. Except when I drive. Do not trust me then.” She glanced at the small buildings and streets below, before signing to me again. “If it gets risky, we’ll leave. Okay? Just try it.”

“Alright,” I said. “I understand. We’ll just check it out.”

“As you say, Sandwich King.” She handed me the rest of the mango she had chewed off and pulled the handkerchief out again. “Here.”

I took it from her and tore into it without another word. The closer we got to the city, the more I felt like toads were jumping in my stomach. After I tied the handkerchief around my face and pulled my hood over my head, my fingers gently brushed against the side of her hand by accident. She didn’t seem to notice.

* * * * * *

Dust.

It flew in the air and landed on top of the people’s heads and the stands on the side; dirt roads that were bustling with worn down, old cars and trucks. The smoke from the exhaust pipes mixed together with them. Their brake lights didn’t work. Children ran in all directions, laughing and shouting, and women carried plastic containers on their shoulders, some balancing piles of fruits or coconuts on top of their heads with one hand. Many people wore scarves on their faces to protect themselves from inhaling the the thick clouds in their lungs. The men stood by their stands, calling out prices for their goods.

There wasn’t a single line of people buying water in sight.

I began to hobble a little bit faster through the crowds, trying to keep up with Honda. She had been walking really fast for some reason, and the last thing I wanted to be was lost in a unfamiliar place. There was a mix of unscarred faces surrounding me as we made our way through the streets and carts being pulled by mules. Whenever a soldier appeared, I made sure to grab her by the hand and step behind one of the stands, pulling her out of view. She gave me a reassuring look once they passed, before wrapping her arm around my waist to help me forward.

The mango trees were tall and heavily laden with fruit as we left the marketplace. Not too far in the distance were homes, that appeared to be wealthy, surrounded by a fence. The sound of barking dogs grew louder as Honda placed a finger on her lips and crept to the fence, looking in both directions, before jumping over and crawling in the grass. I crouched low, my heart beating fast, wanting to ask her what she was doing; that I could try to get another job for us, but she was gone. The barking grew louder, and there was a small yelp, then a grunt, before I dared open my eyes again.

Honda leapt above the fence, landing hard on her stomach, covered in bruises and scratches. There was another growling sound, and through the wooden boards a large bulldog glared at us, saliva flying from its jowels. Before I could ask her what was going on, she yanked me forward, and she began to sprint while I dragged behind her like a rag doll, wincing in pain everytime my bad foot made contact with the ground. It was only until we were out of sight into the woods did the front door of the house swing open, and a chubby, middle age man holding a pistol in his hand stormed across his yard, swearing.

I stared at her in disbelief.

Honda leaned backwards against a tree trunk, breathing hard, sweat dripping from her face. Her sweatshirt was bulging with mangos, and when she dropped them to the ground there were eight to ten of them. I couldn’t remember the last time I ate. Despite myself, I couldn’t help but pick one up and take a huge bite out of it, ignoring the squishy parts. She gave me a sly smile and winked as she began to peel one.

The sound of a twig snapping made us both jump. Honda’s fingers curled around a rock; I raised my crutch into the air with both hands. We were prepared to fight our way out of here if we had to.

There was a slight rustling in the bushes, and a small figure stepped out. A boy, maybe twelve or thirteen, stood in the warm sunlight, wiping his eyes. Coming behind him was an old woman, and finally, a small toddler, who held onto her hand. They all bore the scar on their faces, and for a moment, their eyes focused on us. They were so thin I could see their bones poking out, and the toddler began to wail as the elderly woman scooped him up in her arms, her face streaked with tears. The boy stared at the sight of our food.

Honda immediately stood up and gathered up the fruit before stepping towards her. She gestured for her to hold out her arms and dumped the rest she had stolen into her arms. I shrank back further in the shade as the woman broke into heavy sobs and fell to her knees, grabbing at her feet. The boy eagerly snatched one up and began wolfing it down, before handing some to his younger brother, which calmed him down. Honda knelt down to her level and pulled her into a hug.

And I slipped away in the darkness.

* * * * *

At nights, I couldn’t sleep. I wished I were a heavy sleeper, but whenever I closed my eyes the woman’s sons echoed in my ears. It was a wonderful opportunity to explore the city at that time, wearing the handkerchief on my face. The further I walked, the more in disrepair everything seemed to be. Abandoned buildings and an old, dilapidated high school met my eye when I stumbled through the yellow caution tape, the wind blowing in my face.

When I stepped inside the school with a burning torch I had stolen from an abandoned cooking fire, the walls were marked with graffiti, and I carefully made my way between the smashed glass, food trays, desks, and other items discarded across the hallway floor. I knew I was supposed to be frightened, but I couldn’t. I wished I was able to go to a place like this, when it was alive and bustling. To meet other students, to go to basketball games, and maybe even have detention. Maybe I should’ve brought Honda along, but she wasn’t a night owl. She hated getting up. Plus she was scared of the dark, but would never admit it.

After hobbling through several empty classrooms and ducking low beneath the sloping, rotting ceiling, the glowing light feeling hot above my fingers, there were two double doors in front of me. For a moment, my hand reached out over the handles, and one of the doors slightly creaked forward. The scurrying sound of rats filled my ears, and I sneezed before pushing it forward all the way. The library was quite small.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

While some shelves were empty, the dust covered books were stacked neatly in rows, waiting to be checked out. Only one ceiling light flickered on and off, the last remaining source of electricity in the whole building. Not a lot of graffiti was in this room to my surprise, but I couldn’t resist as I made my way through the shelves in alphabetical order. As I reached the F section, one stuck out of place. I pulled it out and flipped it over, wiping off the dust with one hand across the faded title.

Forts: The Institution Of Defensive Building.

The author’s name was too difficult to pronounce, but while the papers were yellowed and stained, the paragraphs written in fine print were readable. Slowly, I sat down and balanced the torch carefully between my knees, careful not to set the book or the building on fire. If it went out, I would be trapped in total darkness, but for the moment, it seemed to matter little. Dozens of detailed sketches of diamond and hexagon shaped buildings met my eye. The words pulled me in, and page after page the explanations of what the indigenous people of our island built to defend their land during colonialism made my face flush. I turned another page, their cries of defeat wailing in my ears.

A crackling sound made me look up.

Layers of ice began to snake on the walls and floor, and I scrambled to my feet as a large icicle formed and slammed against the ceiling, causing a huge chunk of it to crash on top of a table. The other half of the room was trapped behind a glass mirror, and the ceiling light finally burned out, one of the bulbs shattering into pieces. My breaths became more visible as the floor grew slippery, covered in ice. I slipped the book underneath my sweatshirt, dizzy from the waves of energy overwhelming me, before getting out as fast as I could, the ice spikes portruding in the wall behind me.

* * * * *

It took me an hour to make my way back, but the sun was rising as I finally made it up that blasted hill, ignoring the nagging pain in my leg. Honda snored loudly, her mouth open wide, saliva traveling down her chin. I shook her shoulder roughly, and she grunted in her sleep. As I tried to shake her again, she swatted an arm at me and turned over on the other side. As I dropped the crutch to the ground, somehow, I didn’t feel tired. I felt so energized, like I had downed a pot of coffee.

”Let me be,” she grumbled.

“Hurry!” I hissed. “It’s an emergency.”

Her eyes were halfway open as I pulled her up to her feet and tugged her along outside, where it was much cooler. She shivered in her sweater, hugging herself, before glaring at me, digging her bare feet into the soil. I took two steps backwards and chuckled, holding an arm stretched out towards the heavens. A confused look appeared on her face.

“You…you remember the people who you helped the other day? The woman and the two children. Or any more survivors of your people. Bring them here. Don’t let them know that I want them here, okay? Don’t worry about food. I can get food and other supplies.” My heart was racing so fast I couldn’t breathe. “Bring them…bring them here.”

Honda gave me a confused look. “But how? We have no money, no food, no—“

“Can you help me build a fort?” I whispered. “We can get supplies, don’t worry! I can find a way to make a safe haven for the woman and her two children. Please?”

She stared at me like I had gone in the head. And maybe I had, but I didn’t care. It felt good to be crazy for once in a while. I laughed at her expression and stared at my feet. When I looked up, she had stepped a little bit closer, placing a hand over her mouth.

“Your leg. It’s broken, you should rest. What on earth do we need a fort for? You woke me up for this? Did you not even sleep last night? How can you lift anything? We have no tools. No, no, no. You rest, I insist.” Honda frowned and pointed at the tent. “Sleep, then we will talk about it.”

“But ..” I felt her guide me forward. “Do you think it’s a bad idea? Please, bring the old woman and her grandchildren here. Where they can live...live in a place of defense; where they never have to worry about their next meal.”

“What are you saying? Have you slept?”

I shook my head. “They don’t have to know about me. So when you are with them, I’ll stay out of their sight, I promise. I won’t frighten them. You gotta promise to bring them here. I know...I know a person who can send me money so I can get food for them. Just enough, before I can find a job. And then...and then you and I can save up supplies for the—“

Honda sighed. “I’ll search again, but I doubt they are still by the mango trees. But I will try; I promise. Now please, sleep. For me. Then maybe you can eat once your head is clear. I’ll go into the city and look for some scraps. Where did you get an idea like that? You talk gibberish all the time now.”

I opened my mouth to argue and pull out the book, but the minute my head touched the soft grass, my eyelids slowly drooped over. Her warm hand gently patted my arm, and before I knew it, a warm, comforting darkness settled over me. I knew she was right, and that she had won our little game. For now, anyways.

It was only the first round.

* * * * *

During the weeks, with an old rusted axe and shovel we had found near the dumpster of the city, we took turns trying to clear out the rest of the area the best we could. Honda usually dug up piles of soil and clay, while I swung at the stubborn trees nearby as dragged their trunks across the dirt. My leg was healing, but not fast enough. So I started leaving my crutch behind.

And our arguments didn’t help much either.

Honda kept fussing over my leg and wanted me to rest; to choose a less complicated design so it would be less of a strain on me. I needed to help her and refused. I hated seeing her angry, but when I really got on her nerves she would refuse to sign or look at me, but instead storm away and bury herself with other tasks, like cooking wild rabbits or squirrels she found on the fire. I would feel so ashamed afterwards, but she would always hand me the biggest portion she had saved for me before walking off alone in the woods to ignore me for another half hour. When she thought I wasn’t looking, she loved to sketch all around the empty spaces of the books I had brought with me, especially around the margins, so that a lot of pages were decorated with elaborated designs. The few pencils we had slowly became diminished to stumps, to the point where I had to use the lead alone. But I didn’t mind.

Slowly, we made progress.

Either one of us would go out and fetch water to make a batch of fresh mud and clay to scoop up and use to support the wooden beams. The walls were roughly only seven feet high, and hoisting the the small logs of wood on top was a challenge. Using mud and clay was the best thing to do in order to keep them from collapsing, although it took a great deal of strength for her to finally place the last ones I had cut down. On the fifth wall we finished, our hands and clothing were completely covered in mud and soil.

And sprinting through the rain together in the middle of a thunderstorm to cool off after a day’s work made it all worthwhile, splashing and jumping through large puddles. As we laid on the soft ground under a tree on our backs, spent, Honda gently held out a large toad she had caught and showed it to me with both hands. I smirked and placed it on top of her head, causing her to squeal as it jumped on her and she desperately tried to get out of her hair. When she immediately started chasing me through the bushes, a great deal of mud in her hands to throw at me for revenge, I had never been more alive.

We took off through the woods, her right at my heels, the faint whisper of rain falling through the dense branches; dead leaves clinging to our bare feet. Even when she got me square in the back, I managed to throw a clod at one of her shoulders. When she aimed again, she missed. Quickly, she bent down to scoop up more with her arms.

I suddenly stopped at the edge of a sharp hill, and she accidentally ran into me from behind, causing the both of us to fall. We tumbled down head over heels through the soggy grass before landing in a ditch. Her breaths were heavy as she continued to laugh uncontrollably, lying on her back, looking at at me; the pouring water soaking our clothes. My hands slowly wrapped around hers, which cling to my own. She was completely covered with mud, as was I, but our soft palms against each other were warm and living and real.

Fire settled on my face as my smile slowly faded away. My entire body was tingling and pulsating and I found myself sinking deeper and further, drowning in something I could not explain. And once she got on her feet and took off running again to get some more mud to douse over my head, I could only helplessly stare after her.

* * * * * * *

Often I noticed her sketching various plants and animals, using the very last remainder of our pencils. The deep look of concentration in her eyes told me how engrossed she was in her work; and she often gave several of the pages to me. As she eagerly signed to me, I tried to thank her for the gifts, but she was far too excited to notice, asking me for suggestions to work on the anatomy of the things she sketched. There was a bright red dragon lily that she desperately wanted to draw next, but it had been hard for her to find.

I secretly began hunting for the plant in order to surprise her, and managed to find a single one growing between two rocks in a ditch one morning after days of searching for it. With a slight smile, I picked it up and delicately touched its petals, admiring its crimson hue. However, when I went back to the tent, Honda wasn’t there. Assuming that she probably was out looking for more roots and berries for the both of us, I carefully placed the flower in my pocket and began to head back to the woods to give it to her.

It was just about nearing the crack of dawn, while the sky was a pale orange and blue, I turned my head to the side to the sound of faint splashing. She was standing in the middle of a stream and had taken off her dress, which laid in the grass. Instead, she wore a white shift I had never seen before. Beads of water dripped down her chin, the tip of her nose, her elbows as she slowly undid the braid she wore on her head.

I remained in a trance; unable to tear my eyes away.

Honda flung her now loose wet hair back; it tumbled like a glorious waterfall down to her waist. She sighed with relief and raked her hands through her thick curls in the midst of bright yellow dandelions and chirping birds. Holding my breath, I stepped forward and accidentally stumbled on a tree root, causing her to look up with surprise. Then she waved at me and gently smiled. Ignoring the stinging sensation in my cheeks, I profusely apologized for invading her privacy, stammering that I needed to look for some more firewood. Before she could reply, I quickly limped away, my cheeks flushing, wanting to punch myself in the face for being this way. For not leaving immediately and staying like I did. I had to sit under a tree to wait for my heart to stop fluttering so much, praying for the redness in my face to leave. I stared at the flower in my hands.

Due to the sweltering heat during those days she usually crouched down low in the shade, vigorously mixing in more clay and mud, her long, slender bare legs huddled beneath her on account of tying her long skirts up in a knot. Gracefully, she swung upwards on each plank and climbed up on the very top of our construction, smearing some on top of the new layer we were forming. Red clay plastered around her ankles, and the way that the evening sun fell upon her pulled me into a trance. I snapped out of it when she suddenly turned her head and saw me staring yet again. A confused expression came on her face.

I weakly apologized. Immediately, I reached down and carried several stacks of wood on my shoulders and kept my head low, trying to ignore the blood gathering in my cheeks, cursing myself. But I failed yet again to ignore these sensations that were suddenly coming over me. And I suddenly couldn’t speak to her without stuttering; the increasing desire to hold her in my arms drove me mad.

One evening, in front of our small campfire, after exchanging some jokes, Honda snickered so badly at one I told her that she snorted the water she was drinking from her nose, causing me to lose it as well. Our bent shadows stretched out on the grass.

When I slowly held out the dragon lily, she loudly squealed and thanked me, squeezing me into a tight hug, which had me frozen in the spot. As she closed her eyes and clutched the wilted plant to her chest, the light of the flames caught each golden freckle on her skin. Everything slowed down when she directly tucked the flower behind her ear within her hair, giggling. Deep, heavy chills ran down my spine and shook me down to the core my entire being.

But I was lost. I knew it. The sudden rush of butterflies came over me like a hurricane and the growing, fierce heat on my face.

* * * * *

The older woman had brought a few family members with her, so I now had six people underneath my wing. I never took a step near the fort and continued to sleep in the woods. Honda usually did night watch, but never left me. We continued to star gaze together as usual, pointing out the constellations in the sky, and she told me that she wished that she could paint a portrait from the view in our eyes.

Drops of water splashed on my face as I slowly sat up and stretched. It was gray and cloudy outside, and a giant puddle had formed beneath me, staining my torn, shabby jeans. A fresh pile of stolen mangos and yucca roots sat nearby, and I made sure to eagerly help myself until I was stuffed. A chill ran down my spine as I noticed that Honda was nowhere to be seen. I really needed to show her what I had gotten from the library.

The edges of the book dug against my skin, so I pulled it out and rested it on the ground. To my dismay, the pages were wrinkled and damp; water dropped from its worn spine. Maybe she had to go the bathroom, although when I peeked outside it was drizzling and mid afternoon. Sure enough, in the mud, footprints marked the way in the bushes. My throat felt dry and I couldn’t stop coughing as I began to follow them.

I grabbed my crutch and hobbled out of our tent, pushing past the tree branches and spying a bamboo patch, knocking it as hard as I could with a stick before a crack formed. The scent of moss and soil filled the air. With one hand, I broke a thick stalk off and quickly gulped down the cold rainwater that had gathered there overnight. As I started to take more to bring back for Honda, a small noise made me jump and turn around.

My heart skipped a beat.

In the shadows from the trees, a dark figure peered behind at me from a rotting trunk, a pale hand resting on the jagged surface. They quickly moved back out of sight once they saw me staring, completely drenched and shivering in the rain. The fingers were dirty and long, and their thick black hair was tousled and disheveled, covering half of the face, along with the large scar that began at their right temple. The rags they wore were reduced to almost nothing as they slowly raised their head. I took a step back when the large green eyes met mine for a long time.

Toku quietly slipped away behind the branches.