NEZUMI - BISEXUAL - SINGLE
BREEDINGS MAYBE
BREEDINGS MAYBE
nezumi, the rat
- Nezumi, former chinese royalty
- now surviving in a post-apocalyptic wasteland
- a lone fighter, thinks he's one of the last
- depressed and weighted down by what he lost
- clings to memories of a past life
"Daddy? Can I hang the first lantern? Please? Can I?"
The memory slowly fades. Bright red cloth turns into ashy dust.
A sad smile on his face and an orange painted lantern in his paws, Nezumi stands infront of what used to be his childhood home. A ruin, shattered stone and burnt wood. Dust. Carefully, he settles the lantern down on a solid rock, writing his name into the ashes. Then he raises his head and bows it slightly towards each of the lanterns he had already put down in the past. Thirteen lanterns. Thirteen years.
"Happy Birthday, father." He whispers, the wind carrying his words away like the ashes. A soft echo in the mountains, all life taken from them, except for him.
"Will you remember me
when I am gone
because the sky came falling down
and all that you ever knew
turned to dust and ashes
beneath your feet
will you remember
the way I used to be
and will you mourn me
under the sun
and beyond the stars
and when you cry my name
I will be there for you
within the wind
to dry your tears
and listen closely
when I whisper this sweet song
into your ears
as it is all
that's left of me"
He took a deep breath, caressing the thin paper that the words were etched on. This song, that his father had always sung to him. And with hesitation and his voice trembling, he barely whispered the verse he added to it later on:
"sometimes I wonder
how you knew"
A soft breeze stroke through his hair and the candles inside the lanterns flickered. With ashes and dust, the song was carried away into the sky too. Slowly lost within the vastness, as there was no one else around to hear it.
Nezumi stood still and quiet for a few more moments and then turned around to leave. He forbade himself to spend more time here than neccessary, sadness was not an emotion he could allow himself to feel during such times. Too high was the risk of getting used to it and mistaking the grasp of mourning for a helping hand. He had seen it happening.
Nonetheless, he could not help but to hope that perhaps some day in the future, someone else would spot these signs of life that he placed here every year again and again.
Walking quick steps, he made sure to get out of the city before darkness set in. Night had become a dangerous time and especially the cities were inhabited by many creatures that Nezumi would prefer to avoid. Not that he couldn't fight them - he simply prefered to use his strength for hunting for his own survival.
Making his way back up the mountains, the song he had sung followed him with the wind; and just for a second Nezumi believed, that he could hear his father's voice in the dust-filled air. But as quick as the sensation had appeared, it was gone again.
Back at his camp, he collapsted next to the bonfire. His limbs were hurting, his feet were sore and his lungs burnt from breathing in ashes. He had no idea how bad the effects of pollution and radiation were to his health, but he also didn't care. Only over his dead body he would give up the only tradition keeping his family's memory alive.