"Yukaaaaa…!!!!"

That was… the very last time that I got to hear the voice of a family when I thought that my life had stopped. The voice of the young girl was greatly sad, and extremely pained. I have long forgotten how I felt when I heard it echoing even in the loud pattering of rain. Was I happy that I still heard her voice, as if she was desperately looking for me? Was I sad that I can never hear that voice again, and that upon hearing that, I have already been separated from my family? There are times when I really wanted to know my own feelings in that particular moment. I began to think what really is a family to me when I have a time for me alone.

But even with those hesitating thoughts, I am very certain that it was a family that I have lost. And that I desperately wanted to go back to it. I still know that I had felt something under that rain, but forgotten. Because if there was nothing that I have felt, then I should not be thinking about how I loved the family that I once belonged at.

▪ ▪ ▪

How was the first twelve years of my life like again?

…

I am almost certain that three year-old children will not yet understand what being a brother means; even being a sibling. I have honestly forgotten if I was there, watching, when my younger sister was being given birth.

Her name is Senna. And looking back, her name sounds very appropriate for a woman.

But it was that time when we became a family of four. For children, time moves fast as they still not see the world and its concepts deeply, but it was indeed the time where they learn gradually. In the end, however, it was still nowhere near close to a mature thinking, in which we realize that time is either moving fast, or slowly. Perhaps… my parents perceive time like the latter and that the time with their son and daughter will last long.

"Papa… Papa…! What's a dream?" the innocent girl at the age of five asked her father one night.

"A dream… It has a lot of meaning, but it's something that you want to become when you grow up."

"Ooohhhh… Did you also have a dream, Papa?"

"Of course! Even Mama had a dream when she was a child!"

"Woooow…! Even Mama?!"

"Yes, dear. I also had a dream."

My father was working in a business firm and he had a rather respectable position in that company, while my mother once worked in the sales department of a big car company. She however decided to resign from her work after she gave birth to my sister. Thus, we grew up with her being a housewife.

Our family's financial status was fine, but my parents carefully decided to live in a house that is just enough for us four. It was an average house, although it has two floors. It was not small, and it was not very big either. Maybe they picked that house as they are content of only having two children. Both my parents lived in Sector T1 in Ginga, thus, they settled in there. For the first twelve years of my life, I lived there and in that abode.

I am very glad that my parents chose to live a humble life, and so I picked up their ways.

"Yu~ka…! What about you? Do you also have a dream?"

"I do, I do! I also want to have a family like this. With a Papa, a Mama, and their child. But in that family, I will be the daddy. I will find a proper job so that my family will not be hungry."

"Ehhh. Are you going to leave us, Yuka?"

My father cut in, "Ahahahaha! Someday your big brother will be with his own family once he has become what he dreams of. But that doesn't mean that he will leave just like that.

But even if he does, we can still see him any time!"

"Waaahhh, that's so cool…!

So then…! Umm… I want to be like Mama! I want to be a wife that will make food for all of us!"

But of course, in a typical father's manner, it didn't leave a good taste to him, even if it came from my sister's words of naivety. A father cannot help but feel that he needs to protect his family whatever it takes.

▪ ▪ ▪

A child cannot avoid nightmares.

It was for a short moment that my parents had to leave the house with Senna for her general checkup on the pediatrician. And so, I was obviously left alone in the house. That was not the reason why I had nightmares, however. I was content enough that I am accompanied by our cat while he sleeps mostly on my lap.

In truth, I am not really scared when I am the only one in our house. My parents also taught me not to be so fiddly on things that I don't know much about, so there are only a few things that I can confidently touch—and one of it was the buttons in our television that is still a cathode ray tube type. It was already 1982, and a nine year-old that has seen it everyday was still amazed by it.

Of course, I didn't know the value of the shows that we watched in that time. I didn't know about the production, the direction, the narratives, and all the work that was put into it. But I was struck. I was struck so hard that it was like a lightning hit me with electricity down to my spine. I have watched something I didn't like. I have watched something that frightened me. No, it was not something like horror, but it was frightening enough that it disabled me to sleep on my own.

There was no need for me to even switch channels upon waiting for the display as it slowly lights up. Right there, in front of my eyes, I saw a person, standing in the middle of several people. Only he was the one with hues while the ones surrounding him did not have them. There were cries of agony—so much voices of suffering—until the colorless people slowly vanish to nothing, leaving the colored person alone.

He lamented. He lamented because he lost his, and his only family. His house burnt down when he was away on his own. On the night of the same day, he stood in front of his house as he helplessly watched it be scorched. There was nothing left of his "everything" as it all turned to ash that has been carried by the early morning wind.

…His only family.

He had nowhere to go. There was no other place where he can. There was no one where he can talk to. He lost everything, as though he already lost his life before it has not. The world… has left him alone.

…

I immediately switched off the television before even seeing what was going to happen next. I knew to myself that I wouldn't want to know anymore what will happen. It was extremely silent inside the house, and yet I was still covering my ears. I can still hear things, but it was all in my head. I was unable to stop thinking about it.

But I finally heard the sound of the door opening. I ran to the doorway and immediately clung to my father. I cried, and cried with my arms wrapping to him. I was thankful that there is still a place where I can cry, and that there are still people who I can talk to.

My family later found out that I was under trauma. It was indeed due to the show that I watched. I was unstable for a few weeks. I can't be left alone even in the time of slumber. But in a matter of month, somehow, I forgot everything about it. I only became aware of it again as I grew up, but my trauma literally disappeared from my head.

…

In school, I was not someone who was bullied. I have friends and I can casually interact with my classmates and schoolmates. In terms of socializing with others, I am pretty much average. I had good grades in elementary, but it really can't be compared to the difficulty in high school and college. Those grades were still not a clear basis of one's future. But nonetheless, I enjoyed coming to school. I've had fun with my friends and played with them.

Indeed, my life was quite ordinary—where I am not different from others. I was through and through a normal person.

Actually… I don't even remember ever going to high school or college. Well, that is because I certainly did not.

▪ ▪ ▪

Things happened really fast.

My mind just went blank. No, it was like I was pulled out of my body to nothingness. For a moment, I did not feel anything and my existence was as if it was erased. But when I felt that I have gotten back to myself, my mind was still blank.

It was that day of all days when the weather forecast was inaccurate. It was raining almost in the entirety of Orio and the roads were definitely wet and slippery. I remembered that we were traveling towards the extreme northern Cotona on the mountains for a family vacation.

It was still in the middle of the morning but the clouds were already thick, and the rain has come to a downpour. The sky was not yet very dark and the visibility was not something unclear. And yet… there was a blinding light somewhere, but not directly in front of the windshield. I almost had no idea what was going on. All that I thought of is that a vehicle is colliding to ours. I don't know what vehicle it might be; I don't know if it was just an ordinary car or a truck.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

It was when my mind stopped. When I have come back to my senses, I thought I was dreaming. One thing however is for sure—we haven't climbed much of the mountain, but I see myself falling from a cliff side. I was… falling slowly, and even the rain was. I still had no idea of the fictional concept of stopping or slowing down time. But the feeling was so realistic that I forgot that I was falling. Thankfully, I only fell not too high, but I felt the great impact flat on my back. I was not able to move for quite a time because of the pain that suddenly jolted my body.

There was no response from above. But disregarding my condition, I still hoped that everyone in my family is safe after that accident. I hope that they can go home safely. I hope that there will be nothing bad happening to them again.

…

The rain continued to fall, as though it was making me recall an already forgotten memory with every drop. It quickly became clear in my mind that the nightmares I have had three years in the past have come back to me. Of course, I am alone in this place. I can't even speak or move an inch of my body as I helplessly lie down on rocks. I realized that I was like the character from that drama now—all alone, without anyone to talk to, and without anywhere to cry. In contrast to when I was falling, the time felt so fast. Every quick second, it felt like I am moving away from my family.

"So in the end… I will end up just like him?"

Upon that thought, I have given up.

"Yukaaaaa…!!!!"

…

Ahhh… it hurts. It really hurts…

At the age of twelve, I was separated from my family.

▪ ▪ ▪

How long has it been? A few minutes? An hour? A day?

I passed out for a duration that I do not know. I came by and opened my eyes when I was already over the arms of someone with a safety helmet on. The rain has been reduced to a drizzle, but it was not enough for me to get a look on the man's face.

They asked me my name, but…

I seem to have forgotten it for a fleeting moment.

"S-Seijirou…"

I don't know why I uttered that name when I immediately remembered my true name. But then I realized, I don't know how long has it been; I don't know how are my parents and sister right now; and I don't know what has become of me.

I don't know anymore.

~ ~ ~

I was not aware of my wounds until I was immediately sent to the hospital by the rescuers. I've had several wounds on my head and face, and deep grazes on my arms and my back.

But when I was discharged, an unknown woman fetched me by the hospital exit. She was still young and actually beautiful, as though she can pierce through the cloudy skies with her brightness.

With a soft voice, she said, "My name is Clara Goodman. What is yours?"

"Seijirou…" again, I told that name.

In the car that she was driving, she explained that she was the head of a certain orphanage in Sector CX that was situated close to Sector 527. She agreed for me to stay in the orphanage for as long as I want.

▪ ▪ ▪

I… however did not grow up properly even after the proper guidance of the elders in the orphanage. I was fond of the other children, but I grew aloof towards other people outside the orphanage. I was… what you would call a delinquent on the streets. Others pick fights against me, and so I did. I sometimes come home with—if not bleeding—bruised face. But never in my life have I lost to thugs.

I realized, I was just doing it to vent off stress. To a time when I was 17, I was always haunted by my trauma, and giving me nightmares anew. At that age, I have become very violent. Not just because of that trauma from my childhood, but also because of the anger that welled up on me after discovering something more important than my trauma.

I can still remember the plate number of our car.

I have read a certain article on the newspaper, in which what was written on it was an accident that happened on northern Cotona five years ago. After two years, it was found out that that very accident was actually intentional. What happened, apparently, was that a truck driver deliberately drove towards the car we were in. But now, the driver of that truck broke out of prison—which pushed a lot of switches in me.

I investigated on my own and hunted for that person while the police is doing nothing about it. I even looked for information brokers in an expense. Information was expensive, but I found out that the man was somewhat known, and was in an organization. It took me a few months of blindly searching for that person, until I went to the downtown of Sector 527. A petty crime so subtle occurred that the police did not notice it. Me, possibly being the only one that noticed, got a clear look on his face and followed.

I have become very violent… I hate to repeat. Upon reaching an alleyway, I started with a clean blow on his stomach until he fell on his knees. The alleyway was dark even if it was still bright in the open, thus, I arbitrarily beat him up without a rest while I tried to skin off the truth from his own mouth about the incident.

I had lost myself because of the rage that took over me. When I came to my senses, I was on my knees over the man while I was continuously throwing my fists on his face. I stopped after a hard heave from his throat came out. I looked at my hand, and saw that it has already been covered…

I felt the terror that I inflicted to the man and to myself. I have no idea of what I was scared of, but my whole body reacted—trembled and weakened after realizing that I nearly did something inexcusable.

I once again lost it, and glanced on a knife that was attached on the man's clothes. My rational mind stopped as the fear of myself swelled. Without a sound or a scream, I pushed the blade of the knife towards the corner of my right chest.

But I jolted back alive and immediately pulled out the knife. As expected, the bleeding quickly began, and my head started spinning. Before I passed out, the last thing I remembered was that I saw a man whose face I don't recognize, older than I was, running towards me.

And then I heard a weak voice.

"H-HR… C… H…"

…

I have nothing to blame but myself. I started my own chaos, and I do not know how I should stop it. I blindly decided to gaze and listen upon the show that showed me my terror. And now I became someone that I loathe. I gave myself the fear of looking in front of a mirror, and the fear that I will once again lose everything because of what I did.

I started to think and asked myself, what actually happened to that character after he lost everything?

▪ ▪ ▪

In contrast to my thoughts of hopelessness, I was still accepted in the orphanage with open arms. I regretted, and regretted. I regretted a thousand times. I was only leading myself to a path that I, alone created. I did not know that other people made a path for me to follow as I was walking in the middle of a fog.

My eyes were finally opened. I was the one who is destroying my own being. I thought that there was no more hope. But I didn't think that there was still an opportunity for me to change, and so I took it almost desperately.

For the next six months, I acted like a true orphan of the place handled by Mrs. Clara. It has been so long… but I once again saw a newborn baby, being cradled on Mrs. Clara's arms. To have their first daughter, she and his husband was wearing a very delightful smile while gazing upon the eyes of their child.

Watching them, I became ascertained…

I have forgotten what a family is.

…

In that half a year, suddenly, a letter from an unknown sender went to our mail. There was no particular receiver of the letter, but I perceived that it was for me after reading so few words on the back of the envelope.

"To you, the child on the mountains of Cotona."

It was a letter of some kind of an invitation. There was a location provided in the content along with the date. I don't wholly trust it, but for that person to know about the accident, I can't help but be curious. Thus, I came to the place and date.

It led me to an uncrowded coffee shop which a handful of people was sat on the tables outside. I was pulled only by my hunch, as I didn't know how the sender of the letter looks like. But my eyes locked on a certain man's back, and slowly, I made my way to the table and sat without saying anything or my excuses.

The person at first did not look at me as he was focused on the newspaper. But then he eventually folded it and sipped on his cup, somewhat ordinarily. Finally, he directed his gaze at me and asked:

"Young man, why do you look so lonely?"

I was left in utter awe. For just a second of looking at me, he came to a conclusive question. It was as though he did not take a glance on my face, but saw through my heart.

Afterwards, he did not speak another word. Although, I have observed that the people on the tables are decreasing, and when we were the only ones in the surroundings, he spoke anew.

"I am indeed the one that sent you the letter. May I know your name?"

"Seijirou."

"I see… Then, Seijirou, have you ever heard of the Exiles?"

"I have… for what I know, it was a myth that surfaced decades ago. After that, there is nothing more.

B-But… how did you come up with that conclusion earlier…?"

"Seijirou, did you really think you are the only one in this world with emptiness in your heart?"

"…!"

"I have seen and met hundreds of people that hopelessly claimed their emptiness. They were lost, abandoned, threatened and alone. I have seen it many times, and that is why it struck me when I first saw you. You are alone, but you are truly not. There are many people in this country like you, and I don't want you to be led astray again, just like what happened a few months ago."

"So you were there…?"

"I only saw it for a moment, but I got a thorough look on your face. I didn't stop you because I know that you will eventually find your mistakes. And that is why I made you come here and meet me.

Say… do you really wish to change and become a better person, Seijirou?"

"…

Yes… I want to…"

"Then come."

~ ~ ~

I followed him on a long walk, and we reached a deserted place close in the border of Cotona. There was an abandoned and overgrown greenhouse that looked like it is going to fall apart. But nevertheless, he tipped me to enter with him, and all I saw was nothing but wreckage.

"A nice facade, don't you think?" he asked.

An opening flushed to the ground appeared, introducing a staircase to me. I silently followed him to a small passageway that led to a lift.

It did not go up, but it went down. From then on, I saw a shelter with hundreds of people. The place was very overwhelming, but in a good way. Just watching them made my body feel so light. It was so peaceful with a pleasant noise. I had thought that I was not on Earth anymore.

I know to myself that I am very aware of this feeling, as I have felt this so much when I was still a child. But I can't seem to define what it is for obvious reasons. And yet, knowing that I don't know what I was supposed to know still made my tears roll relentlessly.

So these people are the Exiles. They are not a myth. They are people that were abandoned by the world, and so they took refuge to this base under the place that threw them away.

This was what I was seeking for.

Realizing that the sender was actually the leader of the Exiles, I decided to become one.

▪ ▪ ▪

Come two or so years, and a helper came to the orphanage after having none for so long. He was a college student that is three years younger than me. His name is Amano Sakato… and when it comes to first impressions, he really looks like a normal guy.

In spite of that, I surprisingly got along with him. I thought that it might be the first time I got close to someone who does not belong to the orphanage or to the underground base. I don't know… I just felt so lively when it comes to him. Also, it is hard to believe that he has been helping for more than a year considering that he turned second year in college.

~ ~ ~

"Seijirou~! Can you come to the front and welcome Amano's friend?" Mrs. Clara from somewhere requested.

I thought that it was a pain for me, as I have just woken up from an afternoon sleep. My eyes still refused to open up, and my hair was a mess. But I thought, it was just Amano and knowing him, he surely brought a male friend with him.

"Oh, good afternoon, Amano-

Oh…?"

While I greeted him, Mrs. Clara also approached the front to join me.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Goodman. I brought a friend from my college.”

I was surprised that she actually brought a girl friend with her. I didn't know that girls actually liked shoulder length hair-

"Yo, Amano. Who's with you…?" I began to speak somewhat stupidly when I pretty much have seen the person beside him.

No… I pretty much know the person behind him very well.

"Earth to Seijirou?"

“Sorry, sorry… I forgot that I have things to do. Catch you later, Amano!”

…

It was at that point when I finally woke up, both literally and metaphorically.

"Senna…"

For so long that I have forgotten… I have finally realized once again what it means to be in a family.

My name… is Eijiro Kurogane.