86 - Volume 10 - Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

FRAGMENTAL NEOTENY: CULPA

“What’s being done to you. What’s being taken from you, how you’re being hurt, and what to pass on to the next generations. That’s what you must learn.”

When his mother went to the battlefield, just like his father once did, Shin and his brother were taken in by the priest living in their internment camp’s church. When the priest said he would watch over their studies, this was the first thing he told them.

He’d forgotten what his parents looked like and soon forgot his elder brother’s face and voice. But he did remember those words. Shin was too young to understand them at the time, but based on how gravely his brother nodded in reply to them, he got the feeling the priest said something important he must remember.

This was something Shin only learned after the fact, but across the internment camps, there were still people like the priest, who would educate the children. First, the men had been taken out to do forced labor or fight on the battlefield. When the men died, the women were next, and then the sickly and the old. Only the truly elderly and the children were left in the camps, where there was no true community to speak of. And yet there were those who endeavored to grant the children a basic education.

It was both so they could learn new things when they wanted and so they could keep a record of the suffering they’d been put through. And so that if this internment were ever to end, these children would have the potential to build a future for themselves. Early on, some people still clung to that hope.

And so those of the elderly who still had their vitality and the older children who had a backbone gathered the younger children and gave them minimal education. They taught them how to read, write, and do basic arithmetic. The Republic’s inspections of the camps allowed it, since knowing how to read would be useful when the children were drafted.

Of course, there were many people who didn’t participate in the education, and children who weren’t interested in learning those skills, which weren’t useful in the camps.

Shin hardly went to “school,” and so the education the priest and his brother gave him was quite advanced and comprehensive. The Priest was once a Republic officer and received an education to match. He taught Shin what he knew, as well as the scriptures he studied and his own opinions and observations.

The church they were in belonged to a small village, but it had a long history to it, and its priests had amassed a large library of books. It was likely the largest library across all the internment camps, and even after leaving it, Shin thought he was lucky to have access to it.

But even so…

…on the night Shin was attacked by his brother…the priest never did tell him what sin he’d committed to incur such wrath.

“You’re here again, Shin?”

“Reverend.”

The priest stood tall, large enough to block the light filtering into the dark library. The leather-bound book Shin had was too large for his small hands, and so he sat with it open on his knees. That made his legs go a little numb.

With Rei having been drafted, Shin had more time alone. And so to fill the time he’d spent with his brother before, Shin had been trying to read through the church’s library.

He didn’t know what he’d done to anger his brother so much. He’d tried to mull it over but couldn’t come up with anything. Realizing he lacked the vocabulary and knowledge to think about this, Shin decided he would study.

And while he studied, he could keep his mind from wondering about things he’d rather not think about. Like the ghostly voices he’d been hearing since his brother killed him. Or the malice and hatred the other Eighty-Six outside the church directed at him for being a descendant of the Empire.

Or the absence of his brother, who’d left him behind despite always having been by his side ever since they entered this camp.

The priest looked into Shin’s face, which had lost much of its expressiveness and emotion ever since the day Rei left three years ago, and forced himself to smile.

“Today’s dinner should be quite the feast. I caught a bird that flew down from one of the trees outside. Quite the big one, too, so look forward to it… Right, I should teach you how to hunt animals without a rifle next time.”

Aside from his education and knowledge, the priest had taught him how to hunt and handle a gun, as well as the basics of Feldreß combat. Over the last three years, the elderly had begun to die out, leaving only children in the camp. And since they were entering their teens, they were beginning to be drafted.

So the priest thought that if Shin couldn’t avoid being conscripted, he could at least learn how to survive. Shin wanted to learn, too. If he died, he couldn’t apologize to his brother. That same brother had told him to die, but he at least wanted to apologize first.

“…Yes.”

“I’d love to invite the other kids outside over, but…it seems that they don’t like me very much. So let’s eat it, so as to not waste its life, shall we?” the priest said with a wry smile and a joking shrug.

“…I’m sorry,” Shin said, averting his gaze from the priest. “It’s because I’m staying here, right?”

In truth, the priest wanted to teach the skills he passed onto Shin to the rest of the children. They needed the knowledge to understand what they were being put through, the methods to oppose it, and the skills they’d need to survive on the battlefield. But he couldn’t, and that was because Shin was with him.

He was a descendant of the Empire, which had started this war, and the Eighty-Six saw him as an enemy who was responsible for their suffering. And so for no reason other than him having the bloodline of the Imperial nobles, Shin was being persecuted by his fellow Eighty-Six.

In truth, the only reason Shin was safe right now was because he was under the priest’s protection. The priest was both an Alba and a former Republic soldier, and so he was feared by the people of the camp. On top of that, he had the tough, hulking physique of a grizzly bear, and so no Eighty-Six were brave enough to disturb the church that was his “territory.” Especially not the children, who were only just entering their teens.

Even so, if he was to invite them into the church, there was no telling what they might do to Shin. And because of that, despite the doors of the church normally being open to everyone, the priest had to keep them shut. All to protect Shin, the last child left in his care.

“You’ve learned to apologize, have you?” the priest said, inclining his head. “Apologizing for so many things, none of which are your fault.”

Shin had convinced himself they were all his fault.

“I already told you. They hate me as is. And I can’t drag children who hate me to sit at my dinner table and read my books, can I? If they don’t want my help, forcing it on them would be violence. Then I can’t do anything for them. That’s all there is to it.”

“…”

“Moreover…what truly worries me is Rei. I’ve already told you, but you’re not at fault for that. You didn’t do anything wrong. Nothing of what happened back then was because of any sin you committed.”

What happened there was Rei’s sin.

Shin hung his head. It was because he said things like this, because he knew that question only hurt the priest, that Shin decided to not ask him what he did wrong anymore.

Reverend. That’s not what I want to hear…

“Sorry, but I got a transmission from Command. Tell me about it some other time.”

With that said, Alice walked hurriedly out of the dining hall. Left all alone, Shin poked at his synthetic ration with his fork.

As captain, Alice showed neither favoritism nor discrimination toward any of her squad mates. Thanks to that, Shin wasn’t being avoided by his squad mates for his noble Imperial blood. So whenever Alice wasn’t around, Shin was all alone because he, in turn, avoided the others.

They may have been his squad mates, but older Processors scared him. And the maintenance crew, who were even older than them, frightened him, too.

Seeing people about the same age as his brother. Their hands, their voices, their gazes… They all conjured the memories. And it scared him.

“—Nouzen.”

The one who called out to him was the head of the maintenance team, Guren. Shin was especially bad with him and hearing him approach him so suddenly made Shin jolt a little. He felt a bit guilty about it, but Guren looked down on him from above, with the same red hair as his brother…

Guren seemed to sense his fear, though. He squatted down on the spot, which made Shin’s nerves a little lighter. He peered into the boy’s eyes with his own, sincere blue ones.

“Nouzen. Give it everything you’ve got out there so you don’t die.”

That comment made Shin blink once. Alice had told him something similar earlier… Did he really look like he was hurrying to his death?

“Well… I don’t want to die. I won’t die, because I can’t afford to.”

“That’s the spirit. Use that will to survive. You better not leave Alice behind, you hear?”

“…?”

What did he mean by that?

“Alice is a Name Bearer. A veteran who’s survived for years on this battlefield. Which just means she’s seen that many of her comrades die and leave her behind.”

Shin widened his eyes in realization.

Over a hundred thousand Eighty-Six are drafted every year, but less than a thousand live to see their second year. Surviving for that long here meant seeing most of one’s comrades die.

“From what I hear, you’ve got talent. The talent to fight through and survive. And that just means you shouldn’t leave Alice all on her own.”

With that said, Guren looked to the scarf wrapped around Shin’s neck. His blue eyes contained a hint of pain. Like he was thinking back on someone who’d died and was already gone.

“I think losing you would hit her especially hard. So…try not to die out there.”

At those words, Shin unconsciously grabbed his scarf. He thought back to the moment just slightly earlier, when Alice gave it to him.

She suddenly wrapped her hands around Shin’s head softly, as if holding it in an embrace. With his field of vision blotted out and the unique gentle scent of a girl in his nostrils, Shin stiffened in place. Then she pulled back, and he blinked with surprise upon realizing she’d wrapped her sky-blue scarf around his neck.

His gaze seemed to ask why, to which Alice smiled.

“You don’t want it to attract attention or for people to see it, right? You don’t want them to blame whoever did this to you, and you don’t want others to blame them, either.”

She smiled, unaware of Shin’s past or the feelings in his heart, but it was bold just the same—and somehow relieved.

“You want to protect that person, right?”

Her words made Shin look up in surprise. That was it. Those were the words some part of his heart always wanted. He wanted someone to acknowledge this.

He wanted to forgive him. His brother. He didn’t want to begrudge and hate him. Rei had blamed him, nearly killed him, left a scar that would never go away—but still…

He still wanted to think of his brother as someone precious.

And it felt like Alice had given him the permission to do so.

Holding on to her scarf, which almost felt like it still had her lingering warmth in it, Shin thought. She’d certainly saved him in that one moment. What she gave him was a single sliver of salvation. And so he wanted to return that favor, to offer someone else that kind of salvation.

So don’t…die out there.

“I won’t… I promise.”