Yori's Awakening: The First Separation

Darkness.

That is what surrounds me now. It holds me as I try to sleep. Every night, it's always there. Always the same. My mind floats in this dark lake of slumber, and there is never anyone but me. My only companion is the darkness.

Yet... Tonight... Something is different. I feel different. Queasy, as if I've eaten some bad sushi. I'm not sure what's around me. Everything is hazy. A feeling of dread makes its home in my heart. Is something wrong with the nation...? I can't seem to feel the usual discomforts brought by politics and the economy. I... I don't like this absence. It's too strange. Around me, I can feel nothing but the darkness. It has transformed from a calm lake to a storm-churned ocean. This is not helping me feel better...

Now there is a shift in the air. I can feel...a presence. There is someone near me. Who is it? I cannot tell. All I know is they are near...and... This presence feels familiar. I try to move closer. The darkness has become a stranger, and I welcome anything familiar to me. This strange dark storm... The numbness I feel from Nihon... It fills me with fear and uncertainty. I pray this is all a dream, the result of something I ate. I reach toward this single familiar presence. I crave its comfort.

Suddenly, a spasm of pain sweeps through me. I cry out, but my scream is lost to the blackness that traps me. I try to withdraw from everything, to escape...but relief eludes me. Each part of me in agony...burning...rent asunder by the sensations. The great bombs America-san once attacked me with come to my mind. I fear for the safety of Nihon.

How much time passed, I do not know. I only know that the torture shifted. It expanded, consuming me until it seemed I had never known anything but this pain. I grow nauseous. My head is spinning. I no longer know where I am. I want it to stop, to open my eyes and see Pochi-kun waiting for me. Instead I am falling. Is this the end of me? Is this how Nations die?

Then...it stops. As swiftly as it began, it has ended. I lay with my face pressed into the floor. A cold sweat covers my skin. I do not wish to move. I draw sweet air into my lungs, panting as I try to get myself under control. Eventually, I roll onto my back and bring myself to a sitting position. Unable to deny it any longer I take a shaky breath and open my eyes.

I must not be recovered yet, for the first thing I notice is a faint halo of red at the edge of my vision. The color fades before I am even able to worry about it. I turn my attention to my surroundings. I am in a room. The walls are plain and lightly colored. There is a window, and from it I see moonlight pouring in. The floor beneath me is hard and wooden. This is not my home.

What happened to me? How did I get here? Where IS here? Questions flash through my mind. I close my eyes and sift through my many memories, searching for answers. I remember...

The last clear thing I remember was a phone call from America-san. The brash young Nation's volume hurt my ear as he declared he would soon end the war. He told me it was not too late to surrender. "That decision is up to my boss." My voice was cold as I answered him. I hung up before he could reply. I did not wish to listen to him for another moment. My desire to see my katana's blade coated with his blood was growing, and if I spoke with him too long I might say something improper. It was not long after that call when it happened. The pain came as the first bomb landed on my soil. Greater than any I have ever known in my entire life and worse than any other bomb in the war so far, I knew this was not an ordinary attack. From the throbbing in my body I guessed it was somewhere near Hiroshima. The burning grew until I could stand no more. I felt my consciousness falling into darkness, into the sweet relief of nothingness.

And yet...I remember other things. I have memories that come after that. Time has clearly passed since the attack. But how much time? I cannot tell. The newer memories are distorted, murky... It is as if I was walking around with my head lost in fog, or watching a film of someone else's life. If not for the fact I can remember the emotions as well, I would have assumed these memories could not possibly be my own. This only brings me more questions. Is the war still going on? Have I been captured by the enemy?

For the first time since I awoke I detect a sound in the room. I wonder how I missed it. I must have been too disoriented to notice it before. It is soft, a whisper of air. It sounds like...breathing? Yes...the soft whoosh of air as it moves in and out of someone's lungs. I feel heat coming from my left. It is the unseen glow that comes from a warm, living body. I stared into the gloom looking for a glimpse of my companion.

I see a person curled up on the floor. A pillow cushions his head while most of his body lies hidden under a blanket. I can see enough of his body shape to tell it is likely a male. He seems to be young, but his face is difficult to see in the dim light. He has short hair, dark in color. Possibly as black as my own. I cannot tell the exact shade of his skin, only that he is not dark or tanned. His features do not seem like Westerners. If I had to guess...I almost want to say he is Japanese.

I reach my hand out, wanting to shake the man awake. Maybe he will have the answers I seek. I hesitate. I do not know why. There is a part of me that wants this man to keep sleeping. I sit conflicted, my hand hovering over the man's shoulder. My hand then falls back to my side as I give in and let him sleep. A sigh escapes my lips. I look around the room again and see a door I missed earlier. I shook my head. I was usually much more aware of my environment. How could I miss two very obvious things in a very boring room? I would have to be more vigilant from now on.

I gently lift my body from my sitting position. My legs feel weak. Through pure force of will I keep my trembling knees from giving out. I realize I had underestimated my condition. I slowly take a step. Then another. I tried to make as little noise as possible as I make my way to the door. Even if it was locked I still need to try. My foot hit something hard. I threw a hand over my mouth, muffling a yelp. I look down to see what accursed object had blocked my path. The thing is long and slender. My eyes follow its length until I see something metal gleaming under the moonlight. I hear myself gasp in surprise as I recognize the patterns on the cross guard. Fortune seems to be smiling on me if this is...what I think it is. I pick it up, examining it to the best of my ability in the dim light. It seems more worn than I recall but there can be no doubt. This is my katana.

I feel my confidence rising now that I hold the familiar blade. Where I am does not matter, for I will find my way home. First I will need a place to hide. A safe spot that will allow me to rest and recover my strength. I will not let my body's weakness stop me. I force my legs to carry me over to the door. The gods of fortune are indeed kind tonight. I find the door is not even shut all the way. I slowly ease it open and check the hallway outside. Empty. I slip out of the room and begin to explore this foreign place. My plan is simple. Once I regain some strength I will gather information. Then when I know what is going on... I will strike. For my people, for the emperor, for Nihon. I will make sure my face is the last thing America-san sees before I take his head. Then I will return home and we will indeed end the war. On MY terms.
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End Story

_{Admin: The above is something that Yori wrote the other day. It's a retelling of what he went through the first time he and Kiku were separated. I threw together a little picture to go with it, and here it is. (Yes I realize there's no pillow or blanket in the picture, I couldn't find any to use.)}