That Which Burns

   Fire.

   That is all that consumes his mind as he wakes up, drenched in sweat. Panicked pink eyes shooting open, looking upon a near empty room that was most definitely not burning. As panic gave way to recognition, the owner of those pink eyes felt his breathing slow, hand over his heart as he tried to quiet himself back to sleep. It did not help that his body was burning up, blood flowing like like liquid fire through his veins.

   All things said, he was glad he was not on fire, and decidedly pleased that his room was not going up in a funeral pyre with him still inside. He'd only moved here a couple days ago, one of the joys of independence and being able to find a job that let him sustain himself. It would be a bit tough, for now at least, and finding someone to split the rent with would be a boon more that whatever baggage his new housemate would bring. That is a problem for him to deal with when not panicking though, a sensation that was slowly fading. The hammering of his heart in his ears being replaced by the choppy whirr and hum of the ceiling fan.

   Realising he wouldn't be getting any more sleep, he dragged himself out of bed, pain lancing through his right leg as it twisted uncomfortably. Another issue with him, his eyes weren't pink because he was born healthy, he was supposed to have grey eyes, like his family. But his half developed eyes were painfully pink, bordering red when he was agitated. His hair a flaky white, the strands like straw, limp and cascading over his face. He knew that his health was only worsening, the fact that he didn't care for himself wasn't a benefit either.

   His face at least, had some healthy fullness to it, at least, that's how it looked when he wore his glasses. A pair of glasses he currently couldn't find, and was effectively blind without. He staggered about his room, trying to find where he'd placed them, they were definitely on his nightstand, right? If only things were so easy.

   Walking around near blind, he knocked into his study desk, pain lancing through his hip as he crouched close to the ground, inhaling sharply as he tried to blink the tears out of his eyes. As he wiped away the tears, he saw a glimmer, a flash barely perceptible, even to him. Groping around with his hand in the direction of the glimmer revealed the source, his glasses, fallen off the night stand and comfortably under his bed.

By the time he'd managed to put them on and walk to the bathroom, he realised it was already quite late in the morning. Thankfully he had nothing to do today, but it wouldn't do for his mornings to always be like this, being woken up by nightmares, only to have to suffer and search for his ability to see. Looking at himself in the mirror, his sigh held his entire life's worth of annoyance. Born too early, body underdeveloped, albinism... he could have looked okay, had even one of those three things not existed in him.

   A thin, fragile body what begged for protection, droopy eyes that always looked sad, and a pair of thin, pale pink lips. His unearthly pale skin glowed under the fluorescent light, and his irritation dyed his irises a bloody red. He looked more like his mother than he did his father, with long lashes that a lot of people found pretty, his hair reaching the middle of his back certainly didn't help with that comparison. With an almost dismissive scoff, he spit out the toothpaste in his mouth, and rinsed, taking his glasses off long enough to wash his face. At least this felt better than before.

   He reached what passed for a living room, flicking on the small coffee machine that was always on his counter top, and always filled and ready to make another cup. It was a ritual of his, to refill it after drinking his coffee, a way to always have another cup just a few minutes away. For as much as he needed the energy from the caffeine, he couldn't stand bitter foods. So in went 2 large spoons of sugar, just enough to make the bitterness bearable, and the drink itself moderately sweet.

   He leaned back against the counter, absentmindedly thinking about what today would bring. He had to go listen to that small piano recital tonight, his younger brother was performing after all, and it was always fun to listen to music. Lunch was... still being debated within his head, he knew he wanted something greasy, to celebrate moving out, but that would ruin his gut for days to come. He would be starting his job soon, a quaint little job helping out at a music shop. He didn't need to do any heavy lifting, just walk around, and help people figure out what kind of instrument they wanted. Something even he could do.

   He was supposed to start on the third day of the month, which was... when was the third? His mind stuttered as he walked to the calendar pinned to one of his walls, the date circled with a bright red marker, and every day that had passed been marked up with a black X. It was today... and he might end up a few minutes late.

   With an urgency he didn't know he could achieve, he bolted out the door as soon as he'd finished his coffee and gotten dressed in a pair of black slacks and a pale green dress shirt. He sprinted down the roads, barely making it to the store in time. His boss looked at him from behind the counter, an amused smirk on his face. "You're 15 minutes early, good on ya kid." The older man said, voice like gravel being scraped over coarse dirt.

   "If you were any later on your first day, I would have thought you were a lost cause. Well, come on then Ao, you better get familiar with what's in the back real quick, or you'll be really struggling with helping the customers." He chuffed as he waved Ao over, opening the door to the storage room and rehearsal booths next to the counter.

   Ao just let out a sigh, knowing this would be the start of a long day.

...

   It had been three hours, and in those three hours, Ao had barely seen anyone enter the small music shop. He'd gone through a couple of the magazines that the owner had stocked, occasionally marvelling at the happenings of the music industry, but never feeling anything more than a skin deep empathy. Drama was the last thing he enjoyed, and these models and celebrities seemed to make some wherever they went. It was exhausting just to read, how annoying would it be to actually live that, he mused to himself.

   His reading was interrupted by the shop owner running to the front door, a look of worry and confusion on his face. "Ao, watch the shop for a bit, don't let anyone into the back until I'm back." And just like that, the owner was gone, having walked down the road.

...

   He walked quite quickly down the road, eyes set on the small local hospital. He hadn't needed to go here in a while, but this was definitely a better way to check. As he entered and walked towards the front desk, a friendly but worried smile on his face, the receptionist just gave him a quizzical stare.

   "Can I help you?" She asked with an almost annoyed voice.

   "Yes, has anyone by the name of Aya been admitted recently? I've been trying to contact her for the last few days, but she's not been answering." The owner nervously drummed his fingers against his thigh, hoping that the girl was at least here.

   The receptionist looked up at him, before turning to her computer. "Name and relation? We don't give that information out to just anyone."

   "An emergency contact, under the name Milo, it should be visible under her medical insurance." His nervous tapping grew faster, even though he knew this was normal procedure. A drivers license was placed on the table, his, showing him from a year go.

   The receptionist glanced at the card, and back at him, before looking something up on her computer. "The emergency contact infotmation seems right. Now the rest of the... oh no. I'm... I'm truly sorry for your loss."

   He looks at the receptionist with dread on his face. "Wait... what? What happened to her?"

   "She was pronounced dead late at night two days ago, current report says the gas line for her house exploded." The receptionist looked slightly pale, but her nervousness was from having to be the bearer or bad news, and not from the news itself. She looked up at the owner with a bit more worry on her face. "If I may ask..... why check now? It just seems a bit odd to me."

   The owner let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "She was one of my employees, loved her work, said watching aspiring musicians pick up their first instrument was the most satisfying feeling in the world. She normally calls me back after a day if it's a bad cold, but i had not heard anything back in a while."

   He checks his watch cursing under his breath. "I will be back soon, I need to give my new employee the rest of the day off and close the shop. I will meet her family afterwards. Would that be alright?"

   The receptionist nodded, taking down some notes to set a visitation time for him, when they suddenly heard a loud bang, the ground shaking as they all felt the rumble deep in their bones. The owner walked out of the hospital, trying to spot where the explosion came from, and saw a plume of smoke nearby. A plume of smoke coming from where his shop was. He rushed back up the road, his previous fast walk now a full sprint. The sight that greeted his eyes was an unfortunate one, his entire store up in smoke, and Ao nowhere in sight.