cancry | all tween heartthrobs are angsty as hell

A-ah......AAUGH!

[ It happens because of sunlight.

The boy had been drifting through Limbo, as he does every day - reporting to a school without any sense of how he gets there or how he returns, or even where he returns - when the sight of sunlight shifting against a wall had caught his eye. He'd paused, for the first time, reflected upon this. Sunlight means it's gotten warmer, doesn't it? And warmer means....seasons....

....wait, do seasons exist here, so then how does he know what they are

where is he going

why is he going there

what is he doing here

he's

he's

It hits him like a slap to the face, and he's running through the streets now, pushing past people (sorry), trying to make sense, for the first time, of the roads and the paths and route he's been gliding down every day without thinking, but it doesn't, and the MORE he thinks about it the more lost he gets, this isn't normal, this isn't right, and the reason it's like this is because it's....because he's....

I'm dead, the boy realizes, and that knowledge comes coupled with another thought. He doesn't know where it's come from, but only that it opens a pit in his stomach that he feels himself falling into.

I've failed. ]

I-it can't be...It can't be!

[ Someone will be hurt, if he dies - it's burned into the core he's only just realized he has, an aversion to being dead, an aversion to doing harm. To whom? He doesn't remember. Who has meaning to him? What meaning does he have to himself....?!

Oh. This stops him. And he finally falls to his knees. ]

W-who am I....?

[ Weird that a kid this bland-looking could be so dramatic. But here he be. Good luck with that. ]

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[The dissociation doesn't seem to impress her. She folds her arms and glares down at him.]

What? If you've got something to say, out with it. Have you spoken to Rei?

Ah, no....

[ He wilts, chews on what he'd wanted to ask, has been prompted to do so, really should try, shouldn't he. ]

Where am I....supposed to go?

[ Where does he belong. The places he's being going to and from aren't home. He feels no attachment to them. Or to the people he'd been acting out motions alongside.

He's alone. ]

...Get up. We've got a home base here in Limbo. It'll be far better than leaving you to your own devices on the street.

[And it feels weird, inviting him instead of throwing him away, but it's what she should do. What's wrong with her?]

A home base...

[ A home. A place to return to. Full of people like him, who've awoken.

Why? Why is this person inviting him? She doesn't even seem to like him very much. Is he an unlikable person? (What does it mean about himself that he wouldn't be surprised to discover that?)

And yet, though he hesitates, he nods. ] Okay.

[ It's a very tentative picking-up-of-self that happens, though. This is really all right? He can really be - given a place, just like that? No matter what he's done?

Even he doesn't know what he's done! ]

Very well. This way. [She turns and gestures, walking.] Come now, I understand awakening is a lot, but I do hope you won't be standing shocked forever.

[ shoot, he is doing that, isn't he. ]

--Right.

[ He hurries to catch up with her, thinks about this, appends: ]

I'm sorry.

...I suppose I can't ask you to explain yourself if you've just woken up, can I? I doubt you know it much yourself.

[ He doesn't know, or rather, he doesn't understand. But these emotions have to be coming from somewhere, don't they? Why is he feeling what he's feeling? Why is he ashamed of being less than fully present?

He needs to focus. Maybe that's it. He's all over the place, but things are happening to him, right now. There are things he needs to do.

....And then what? ]

....Mm.

[ Is that something he can ask? He'll keep pace obediently, but he's clearly still Torn About Something. ]

Ugh, if you've got something to say, say it. It shouldn't be too much longer at this rate, at least.

Why are you guiding me?

[ It's not what he meant to ask, but it's what he suddenly needs to. He can't make sense of this. She doesn't seem to like him very much, but she's still showing him where he can go.

What sort of person is she? He can't tell, any more than he can tell what sort of person he is. ]

Because we need all the help we can get and it'd be a problem for me if you went and got yourself cornered by Revenants or worse. Because the other Executors want to help out anyone who needs it. Because we've got worse problems than somebody who doesn't know any better asking questions right now. Is that good enough?

[ Processing. It takes less time, though! He's getting used to this 'independent thought' thing! ]

So we all need to help and be helped.

That's how it is here. There are only so many Executors around, and if we let this place stay broken, no one will be able to reincarnate. Of course, some people out there want that, but I'd rather not eventually turn into a Revenant.

I see.

[ And he does, he thinks. Executors....Revenants. She'd mentioned reincarnation wasn't functioning, earlier. And the souls here are in danger as a result.

Meanwhile, he'd known nothing of any of this - of anything. Why had he awoken now? And what is he supposed to do, in his current...

He's dead. That's still raw. But he can't come to terms with that until he knows his current situation. ]

Is it normal? To not remember. Anything.

Of course. We're dead. We've been gaining memories back a bit at a time, but there haven't been too many, unfortunately. Our lives don't even seem to fit together.

Even if we remember, we might not understand.

[ Like right now. He doesn't even understand why not understanding bothers him so much! Who is he - was he?

Though...what if those are two different questions?

He doesn't know who he was. Who he is....

Is that something he can figure out, he wonders. ]

Not yet, anyway. Of course, you might get more or less as you go.

As I go...

[ Huh. Maybe that's what he should be focused on? That feels...right, somehow. Like his instinct is to stare at the gaping hole left by forgetting everything that's happened, but a part of him rebels. ]

That's right. Because I'm aware, I can walk forward.

[ This feels like a major discovery. It doesn't ease the pain of being dead (why does that hurt? why does he feel guilty?) or of knowing his living self committed crimes worthy of being sent to Purgatory (how can he make amends for what he doesn't recall?), but it does give him - something. Hope? A sense of agency?

He hasn't pinpointed the feeling yet, but that won't stop him from acknowledging what this means to him. ] Thank you.

all tween heartthrobs are angsty as hell

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