Prologue: Eyes on You, Abaser

“Darn, it’s windy out there.”

Grey clouds, fallen leaves, birds circling the skies.

If it weren’t for his plans to visit the city, he would have taken this opportunity to fuse his entire skeletal structure with his bed, abandoning all mortal coils in search of heaven in the realm of sleep.

As enticing as the thought was, he ought to leave his room at any moment now, but the rapidly approaching footsteps outside paid him no heed, as she was moments away from barging in, fists clenched.

“Hey! You’re late!” The door slammed open, its steel knob chipping the wall behind from the immense force.

“Ah, there she is,” a vexed look in his eyes following his grin. “Care to tell me why you didn’t wake me up an hour ago?”

“Care to tell me why you’re wearing mismatched socks?” she raised an eyebrow.

“Scorchy ate the red one,” he scoffed.

“Your cat may be orange, but I don’t think it’d be crazy enough to eat a sock.” She crossed her arms, unconvinced. By her feet, the cat in question waddled in unannounced, then began to flex and tense its body. A low, guttural hurk… hurk… sound escaped its throat rhythmically.

“Wait! No, no, no!” She flailed her hands, lifting it by its stomach, and scornfully tapped on its head in disapproval.

Grunting, she drove her foot down. “First, you wouldn’t wake up when I tried to get you ready, and now I have to clean up after this brat you took in?! Couldn’t you make things at least a little bit easier for me?” Her plea fell on deaf ears.

“Be sure to get the sock out—it’ll cause serious health issues. I’m borrowing your purple one for now.” He tugged the sock snug, grabbed his bag, and slid his bedroom window open, letting the autumn breeze fill his lungs.

“Wh-What?! Akashi! It’s one thing to accuse me of not having at least tried to wake you up, but leaving me with the darn cat and taking my stuff is a step too far! At least eat breakfast first!”

“Hup!” The boy climbed atop the windowsill. “If I don’t catch the 7:45 train, I won’t make it to the opening ceremony.”

His gaze fixed on the clock reading 7:23 on his desk, cluttered with metal pieces and circuits he’d tinkered with the night before. “And heaven demands that man never delay. See you past nine, sis!”

“Hold it!” She reached out to his hand in time, mere moments before he lifted his feet.

“Stuff this in.” Taking something out of the pockets of her baggy beige cardigan, she shoved the garlic bread she had wrapped in some crumpled tissues into his mouth. The cat, now lying belly-up on her left arm, aimed its nose in the direction of its smell.

“Mmf!” He almost gagged before taking it out to say his thanks for the warm meal. “Hold the fort for today, okay, Yorozu?”

She wrapped her empty arm around his shoulder, tipping her toes as his awkward posture on the window, with his knees bent and back arched, made it harder for her to reach. “Good luck and have fun at the convention today, and don’t be late.”

Their hair, sharing a hazel-brown shade streaked with white like early frost, intertwined as he embraced the familial exchange. “I’ll try not to. Don’t bet on it, though.”

“Show them what the Toriyus are all about,” she shot him a wink, “—all the best, Aka!”

He swiftly parted with his sister and leapt out from the window of their terrace house, speeding atop the lower roof of the ground floor before carefully leaping onto the brick walls surrounding the estate.

With his pastel-red-coloured bike leaning at the corner on the ready, he came down perfectly seated with hands gripped on the handlebars. The gate stood wide open, left that way by his sibling, who’d known he’d need a quick way out. His shoes were tucked in the basket at the front of the bike.

You’re one heck of a sister.

Feet on the pedals, he blitzed out from his home and into the alleys of his neighbourhood.

The station was three sections away, down North Nakutara. With only 20 minutes to work with, I won't make it in time following the usual route.

Scattered light attracted his sight. Far off in the distance was the Nakutara lake meeting the warmth of the sun that escaped the grey veils in the sky. The reflecting rays shone brightly, kissing his skin even as he went down the hill where his neighbourhood stood.

Amidst his distraction while his bike rolled to the bottom, he began to ponder probabilities and feasibility. The station offering a lakeside view down south could be made out from this far, thanks to the difference in elevation. If he were to keep to this route, the winding road and the all-too-safe bicycle way would no doubt lead to it without a hitch—but not at the pace he needed.

Staring at the destination within reach, a sharp smirk tugged at one corner of his mouth.

Let’s try something funny for once.

Three teens made their way down the staircase that led to the shrine at the summit, all sides surrounded by homes with rooftops too high to reach. Water from the drains beneath their feet flowed to the foot of the hill.

“I don’t think it’s got anything to do with Dravinia.” His glasses, thick as a bottle’s bottom, magnified his eyes to cartoonish proportions. He scratched the side of his head with the back of his pen, gaze flicking down to his tablet, which was cluttered with a mosaic of headlines. “They’re too busy rebuilding trust with their own people, and I don’t see why they would ever get involved with Sakuto.”

“Then, where do you think that white… thing in the news came from?” The girl among them took a peek at the columns, feigning interest while secretly searching for ads on home appliances rather than reading the topics themselves.

“North Bukhan, USJ, Qihan, anyone with engineers worth their salt can make something move that fast.” Hair rivalling the dark shades of ravens, the boy ahead of them folded his arms and tilted his head slightly in contemplation.

“Are we sure it’s not from space?” his friend asked.

“No news from the ISS.”

“Incoming!” A blaring yell alarmed the three from behind. With each drop sending shocks across his entire body, Akashi gritted his teeth, smiling as he almost made himself tomorrow’s headline for the three schoolmates to talk about.

“Woah!” The wide-eyed, glasses-wearing geek pushed the girl to the side, dodging him by an inch.

“Harin, watch out!” she warned, hand stretched forward.

The raven-haired boy looked over his shoulder with a cold stare, almost unfazed at the possible hospital bill his parents would have to pay if the troublemaker collided. Yet the way he simply stood there indicated this was not quite an uncommon ordeal, as if the voice he heard was but a morning alarm he had listened to every morning for years.

His judgment held ground, as the bicycle swerved and dashed past him swiftly, leaving him unscathed. “Bye, sucker!” Akashi's voice echoed.

“You’ll be in a wheelchair one day, Toriyu!” an agitated grunt escaped his lips.

“What’s his problem?” The girl, gripping the bottom edge of her pink sweater, narrowed her eyes into sharp slits.

“Take it easy, Kurosagi. He looks like he’s late.”

“Dude, he almost ran us over! You might be able to take a day off, Najimi, but aren’t you afraid of what will happen if I get hurt?!”

Raising a hand, Harin assured, “He still wouldn’t hit you even if you hadn’t dodged. He can’t afford to deal with distractions right now.”

“What was that?” A peeved look was carved on her face.

His abyssal aquatic eyes locked on the now-shrinking silhouette of his friend, still heading down the hill. “He’s got a point to make in Morikyo City.”

“This train is heading towards Gaiga Station. Please find a seat if available. For your safety, please hold on to the handrails.” The uncanny, monotone voice of the train announcer echoed throughout the coach. Blending with it was the low hum of the news, where a bold crimson headline scrolled relentlessly across the screen displayed overhead, its urgent characters flickering in a way that left the older passengers squinting in confusion.

“Sakuto has had a lot to deal with already, what with the constant quakes and storms ravaging the east every year. Enough with all this foreign entity talk!” An old man grumbled, resting his hands firmly on his cane while he sat among his three drinking buddies.

“Nothing this country’s going through now is anything we haven’t dealt with before. Come wind or wave, nothing out there can scare us no more!” croaked another, stubbornly. He raised a trembling fist with veins standing out beneath papery skin, as if the simple act of lifting it demanded every ounce of strength he had left. His watery eyes shone with a faint sense of pride, even as his hand began to shake in the air.

“Whatever on earth that’s appeared in the northern prefectures got nothing to do with us down here. Your brittle bones ain’t cut out to be handling all that energy of yours anyway. No need to get so riled up,” the third man remarked, his tone steady and unhurried. He barely glanced up from behind his neatly folded newspaper.

“Tch—time’s certainly heaven’s most frustrating creation,” muttered the last of the group, his gnarled fingers absently rolling a string of worn prayer beads. He leaned forward, a sly glint in his eye as he called out, “Oi, kid. You’re spry, aren’t ya? You ain’t afraid of no national anomaly coming your way, right?” His long, white hair spilled over his shoulders. His voice carried a teasing energy as he addressed the young boy slumped before him, whose face was pressed flat against the floor in utter exhaustion.

“The only thing anomalous here is your lifespans, grandpas,” Akashi answered, his voice muffled by the floor, which drew a round of cackling from his unlikely companions.

Every one of his limbs felt like lead, drained from the relentless paddling he'd endured moments prior. That, and the sudden, brutal impact of his last-ditch nosedive into the train just as the doors were about to close.

“Look at you, kid. Humour as dry as my wife,” one of the old men quipped, setting off another wave of laughter. The group rocked in their seats, some slapping their knees.

“Come on, Akashi, get yourself together.” Another chimed in, “Look at ‘em, can’t even take a short cycle down a hill. He’s limper than I was back in my forties!” His words sent the group into outright hysteria. Their laughter echoed through the carriage, filling their lungs with a vitality that seemed to peel back the years.

“Did not need that image in my head.” Akashi’s disgruntled response followed, “Agh… Very encouraging, Grandpa Saiya.” He mustered the strength to lift his weight and collapsed on the seat opposite them.

“It’s way too early in the day for you to be this tired, Toriyuson. What’s gotten into you?”

“Toriyuson.” Akashi snorted, barely able to stifle a laugh. His hand was placed over his forehead as his shoulders shook, trying to keep a straight face. “You guys got weird ways with words.”

He got himself composed and gathered the energy to sit upright. “Had to leave my house through the window to catch this train. I overslept, hence why I rushed to get here.”

“Took your sweet time, too. You barely made it in,” the one with the newspaper scoffed.

“Got lucky again, looks like.” He retorted, eyes smiling.

“Skipping a few classes to catch some shut-eye has never stopped you before. What’s so important about today?” Grandpa Saiya, cane in hand, pointed to his school uniform. “You even buttoned your blazer up right. Haven’t seen you so put together in months.”

A hint of passion sparked behind Akashi’s hazel eyes. “I’m off to the Creator's Conclave Convention at Morikyo. I was offered a spot with a few people from my school to showcase our inventions.” He unslung his bag and settled it on his lap, then gave it an excited pat, as if the very fabric hummed with the brilliance of the invention tucked inside.

“Hey, that’s splendid work, kid! Securing a spot must’ve taken quite a lot out of ya.”

“R-Right.” Akashi hesitated, his gaze dropping to his hands as his phone buzzed erratically, which he had been trying his best to ignore. “I don’t think it’ll amount to much, though.”

“Nonsense! You’re Nakutara’s resident dreamer. Whatever you’ve made will—”

“N-No, it’s not that. It’s just…” A veil of doubt crawled into his heart. “I’ve been getting updates this morning about some organisers pulling out of the convention last minute. So there’s a chance it might not play out as smoothly as I hoped.” He rubbed his thumb over his fingers, voice growing quieter.

“Guess the world’s got their eyes on bigger things than little ol’ me.” For a moment, his usual spark dimmed, and the excitement he’d carried up to this point seemed to slip through his fingers like sand.

“Ah, kid. The world’s always been tangled up in its own worries.” The old man tapped his cane against Akashi’s shoe, snapping him out of his thoughts.

He waited until Akashi looked up, then held his gaze, eyes sharp beneath heavy lids. “It’s always been up to you to make sure that by the end—”

“—they all got their eyes on you.”

“...”

Akashi let out a shaky breath. “Thanks, Gran—”

White.

.

-=[]=-

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8:00 a.m., 4th September, 2043
The entirety of Eastern Sakuto was engulfed in white.