What did I want to eat?

I stared at the refrigerator door.

I could make this or that, make some food crimes which were hard to call decent meals.

Fit for someone with no taste.

Cook?

I couldn't cook.

But making a decent meal, fit for me.

Yeah, that I could do.

Making a decent meal for someone else?

Could do it.

Probably couldn't, and would just try to make something easy to eat, nice and hearty.

Nothing excessive, simple, technically bland food. Nothing impressive.

But good food.

The kind you would remember.

If you were like me.

I... clarity.

This clarity was because I was home.

Home was safe.

Home was where I could be me.

No chains needed.

Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

I did not have to see myself as a thing.

It which walks and talks, breaths and smiles,

But does not live.

Thoughts alone were enough in this haven.

I would not forget home.

I walked into the kitchen with my ingredients gathered on a serving tray, as I watched someone baking and cooking.

I... made my way to turn around.

They took one look at me, and handed me a lunchbox. One inside a wooden box.

"It's a bento. Saw it during an anime, airing this season. Thought I might as well give it a shot.

Ain't suppose to give it to you as breakfast, but a heavy meal at lunch is no go. Right? Eat up. Your spot at the table's clear."

She said, humming as she went back to cooking.

She had blond hair.

She wasn't exactly the best cook, but she tried hard. She had way better taste than me.

She liked going on parties, vibing. Listening to music with a lot of energy. While some might walk the walk, and talk the talk, she lived like a cool breeze. People's head swiveled when she passed by and her laughter caught people's ears, as she made the world her center stage.

That day, when I was passing by, I noticed the restraints, the gag, the unfocused eyes through the shaded glass. A conveniently parked van, by the sidewalk.

I promptly grabbed a pipe and gave the bastards nabbing her, a beating of a lifetime.

To say they got their dues was short, simple and necessary.

The girl thought I was part of the group when she woke up. Attacked me, right then and there.

One of my chains easily reeled her back, furious that she lunged at me as I didn't budge. But I eased them back.

It was a fair response from everyone.

I shouldn't have been in the room.

I should have just let them explain.

But I didn't.

I wanted to let them know they were safe.

And for them to not disappoint me.

To be safe while partying around.

Tagging along with one of my chains, if needed.

She became my chain, when she discovered that I had crippled my arm for a bit, due to attacking a moving van door with my bare fist.

Needed the pipe intact.

Blood splashing and viscera flying, was not what one needed to remember after a traumatizing incident. Even if it was dull flashes of memory.

The less bloody I could make it, the less awfully buried it would be, in their memory.

Or so I assumed.

I took a step, holding on the box, I placed my tray underneath. The amount of times I went into a half blind daze while eating, was common enough that I put down my utensils and leaned back, every time the feeling drew near.

Oh right.

I needed new shoes.

Or rather, to find my emergency shoebox.

Last night I did not wear shoes because... the cold would have forced me to abandon them?

Lest I rip off the soles, and damage them to the point they were unusable?

Sounds perfectly reasonable to me.

I did not like ruining clothes I prefered.

Such a waste to break in new shoes, and feel comfortable in new clothing.

When had I finished eating?

With my lessened sense of taste, I guess I must have drifted in my thoughts.

I looked at the door.

My chain spoke to me.

"You don't need to go, you know?"

I laughed.

I laughed and laughed and cried.

But did not smile.

"Too many dead children in the streets.

Too many hallow souls.

One less is enough. To be worth the while.

But never enough. There is no end.

I can't sleep with them screaming in pain.

I know. I need not act alone.

Someone can be my proxy.

I will not tire you or any of my chains, such.

You can follow.

But I will be the fool who pays the price.

Not you.

Never."

Did I see them as a child?

No. But those who had never properly grown into their lives, laid stagnant, like trees with the barest amount of sunlight.

Those who did not live enough of their lives, despite having been alive for some time.

That is what I rued.