[ The following is the tale of a person far away from Tanuki and friends... ]

– – –

The stone steps below my feet rise with the same monotone force as the thousands and thousands before. The steamy mist grows ever so moist, just like the small groups of grass whom weep down the ascending cliffs of fallen oblivion.

As for why I’m climbing these rough stones of a past unknown, I know not. Even if there was a reason once, the repeating waves of steps made me forget all but a whisper: I have to forward above.

I hear the sound of people, but when I look up or down, my only true companion meets my eyes, the thick grey mist. Is it my imagination playing with me or are there ones above reaching out to help and the same below wishing for my fall?

The same rough steps repeat as I follow to seek a false hope above. Even if this void is as empty as it seems, it is in my life-bound nature to hang onto that tiny light that flickers in my heart. And as I take a deep breath to fill my lungs with the damp air of this hopeless world, I continue to march upwards…

– – –

The path leads me to a curve in the road. I hear sounds come from around the corner and as I turn, my heart recoils as all my swallowed worries disperse. It is a large wagon on a much wider road than mine. Though it isn’t connected to any horses, there are three figures eyeing it from the front.

People.

The thought of company rushes through my head and I lose all signs of prejudice. My trembling legs turn to charge the figures. My throat goes silent as my eyes swell up with tears. I reach out to hug the strangers and when I’m just about to touch one of them…

I pass right through him. As if loneliness has truly taken its toll on my body, manifesting ghostly miasma in each and every one of my cells.

I look at my hands in utter disbelief, then one of the men speaks out.

“Come on now, sweetie! Hand over your valuables and nobody gets hurt!”

The rough evil in his voice strikes my heart with fear and the ugly cackles of his men leave an ominous stench on his words.

I call out to the man, saddened that evil exists even in this lonely world. But a moment later I realize the stupidity of this act.

A woman steps out from the shades the men’s eyes are so focused on. She is a tall, blonde, and though I know her face is drenched with tears, my eyes don’t allow me to see that. I realize the sorrow in her voice and I come to an agreement with my brain that there’s true sadness in her heart, it’s not just my imagination, but as much as my desire yearns to hear the true feelings of another being, her words come to me as shallow as the mist surrounding everything in this world.

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“How many more times do I have to beg for your forgiveness? As much as I want to, and I’d need to, my body does not want to leave this wagon!”

A baby’s cry grows out of the four-wheeled home as suddenly as the menacing men churn forth a smile on their faces.

“Fine then!” One of the three steps forward. “If you can’t leave the car, then we’ll just have to cut you into tiny enough pieces so you won’t be in our way!”

The woman looks down at me. Her face is still as empty as a white summer cloud. I greet her silent wish with a loud gulp of fear. She opens her mouth to beg me in a voice that most likely is desperate, and as she does, the men before me gain color as they become real.

“Please, have mercy on my soul, kind traveler! Help me with these wicked bandits!”

The men turn and pull out sharp daggers from their pockets. The rust on their weapons makes it apparent that if I had even the tiniest hope of finding civilization in these lands then I’m in for another letdown. These weapons were old and ineffective, also devoid of blood from any blood-owning beings.

I raise my hand. For some reason that is unknown to me, my instincts decided that now the right action is to raise my hand and concentrate on something that I can only describe as missing but important.

I shake my head and as the first man runs my way, I put my hands behind my back and reach out for a spear that I’ve found when I was first given consciousness in this hopeless place. I aim my weapon in his general direction and what was meant to be a hesitant attack becomes a clear strike that pierces that man’s stomach. As if this situation weren’t so unfamiliar, my hands act in a very peculiar way, stabbing my attacker twice in the thigh before my legs kick him aside.

This one is dealt with.

The other two charge me, but from two different sides. One of the men rushes to my left and lunges with his dagger, while the other does the same but from a different angle. I strike the first man and launch my spear through his palm. He cries out in pain as he lets go of the dagger. I pull away my weapon and then strike him in the throat, which leaves him stumbling off the cliff and into the void.

Unfortunately for me, the other I can’t stop in time. He perfectly evades my spear and strikes me with his dagger.

I scream as his weapon pierces my flesh. The pain rushes through my body like a wild thunderbolt, as if a thousand needless have struck my brain all at once. I look down at my chest and between my breasts greets me the handle of the dagger stuck deep inside my lungs.

The man grins as he pulls away his weapon.

“You should’ve stayed inside your hole!” He says then laughs as if what he just said has any meaning to it and isn’t just a random mixture of words. Even when I think really hard, I can’t figure out what his intentions were with that sentence.

It annoys me.

I tighten my grasp around the spear and approach the bandit once more. He suddenly recoils, as if my state of being was scary for some reason. I don’t know, and I don’t care, as strike my spear through his chest twice with both attacks aimed at the exact point my wound resides.

I know that there’s pain in his voice as he falls to the ground. I’m sure about it, and I’m even more sure that blood is coming out of his mouth, even though I don’t see anything. It’s like everything that happens around his face region doesn’t exist, it’s just a void in space that my eyes simply look through.

He reaches out to me, whispering something that sounds painful, or at least my brain tells me it is. He points towards my wound which throbs so agonizingly.

I’m in excruciating pain. This is what he wanted. So why does he look at me with eyes of disbelief? Are those even the right emotions he feels? What if it is just my mind playing tricks with me, mocking me for my inability to recognize the simplest emotions?

I don’t know. I don’t care. I pull him to the cliff and throw him down.