Chapter Text
Fushi woke up for the first time in five centuries.
His eyes fluttered open. At first, there was just a disorienting blur—the dim alleyway added to his intense migraine. with its gas-lit lamps casting amber glows and deep shadows. A heavy scent filled his nostrils: coal smoke, unfamiliar perfumes, and hints of machinery oil drift into his lungs. The air was thick and foreign, laced with a griminess unknown to him. Fushi immediately coughs, struggling to breathe.
He immediately covered his head with his hands. His ears were ringing and everything hurt. Everything and everyone came flooding back. March, Parona, Pioran, Booze-JiJi, Gugu, Rean, Tonari, Sandel, Uroy, Mia ,Oopa, Bon,even Kahaku … He grabbed the edge of some bricks to steady himself. How long has it been?
A peaceful world. That was what he wanted right? He looked around. From the window, he caught a glimpse of a transformed world. Some strange mechanical automobile zipping by had replaced the quiet horse-drawn carriages of his memories. The streets were largely empty excluding several people he saw, including a woman in a long dark robe, A man wearing a strange garment with comfortable pants. It was a strangely quiet and calm sight.
Peace! Was this it? Did we win? Fushi thought as he morphed into the young boy that he had grown accustomed to.
“WOHOOOO!!!” Fushi screamed in pure, pure elation. No longer would he have to deal with Nökkers trying to steal his memories and sense of self. It was peaceful, so everyone was happy.
What about everyone else? Immediately, he morphed into the form of a chubby girl with a frayed rope around her head. March.
Looking at his chubby arms, he sighed. Of course, everyone was dead. They were at peace, happy and with their deepest desires, March could be a mom, Gugu could be with Rean, Parona could be raising a child so why did he feel so… so sad? He should be happy for them, but yet…
…but yet, a hollowness tugged at his chest, a weight pressing down, heavy and unrelenting. He clenched his hands, feeling the soft flesh press into itself, trying to keep the sorrow from overwhelming him. His friends, no, his family—they had found peace, a place free from pain and longing. He could picture it so vividly, the way March’s eyes would light up as she gave him fruit, how Parona would train herself to protect her village and how Gugu would be so flustered, with Rean beside him giggling. It’s not fair! Why couldn’t they experience this with him? Why couldn’t the boy, who so desperately wanted to experience a place with peace, not be here with him, to enjoy peace with Fushi? Was he selfish for wanting them to be with him?
They were free, from the struggles and heartbreaks of this world or the Nökkers. He wanted to feel joy for them, wanted that peace to be enough, to fill him with a warmth that matched their happiness. But instead, he felt a kind of ache that enveloped him and suffocated him?
He curled inside himself and slipped down the grimy wall and sat at the alley. Tears blurred his vision, and he bit his lip, trying to hold them back. He should be strong, for them and for himself. After all, wasn't he supposed to accept this? Isn’t that what he’d told himself? They were safe and finally whole. He knew it in his heart. And yet, some part of him still cried out, still reached desperately into the void as if trying to pull them back, to keep them close, just a little longer.
A shiver ran down his spine as he chocked out a barely audible, “I miss you guys.” He hugged his arms around himself, as he morphed into all of his friends, one after another, with tears constantly welling up. Until he returned to his male form.
That was when he felt a hand, thin and bony, rest on his back while he was crying quietly. Glancing up, It was the Beholder, his pale face contorted to what seemed to be a comforting grimace. “So now that you have woke up after about 5 centuries into 1993, what do you want to do?” Fushi breathed a sigh of relief. Though The Beholder was… an acquaintance to be put lightly, at least at least someone was familiar.
“I… I don’t know.” He sniffed, relaxing slightly. A tiny black kitten trotted up towards him. Smiling slightly, he created a fish out of his palm, the one he ate at the island, he vividly remembered, and handed it to him. The cat gobbled the fish ravenously, likely having not eaten for days. The side of his mouth curled upwards, smiling at the adorable, though malnourished cat. The cat was like him, alone, without anyone, but here he is, still alive. The cat cuddled into his lap after throwing the bones away. Slowly as to not scare the cat, he wrapped his arms around it, moving his gloved hands through its cold and tangled yet strangely comforting fur.
I guess I’ll keep her! He giggled. “What should I name you?” He wondered aloud. “You’re black so maybe Kuro? Hmm..” He thought back to when March gave him a pear, so “Nyashi! Cool ehh? Kind like Nashi, but with a Nya, because you’re a cat!” He rambled excitedly. Smiling at the cat, he gave her a hug and picked her up, carrying her around and sitting down again.
That’s it! I’ll explore this new world and meet new people! I make new friends and we can explore this new place together! I wonder what I’ll see first! Maybe a machine that allows us to fly? That will be so awesome!
He stood up, with new found determination. He would continue to learn about this place! Fushi stood up, clutching the cat and stumbled onto the streets of London, with The Beholder trailing behind him.
The buildings loomed tall and dark, they were faces weathered with soot, giving the street a solemn and peaceful air. Windows were mostly shuttered, and the usual murmur of city life seemed absent. Only a single pub remained open, its yellowed lights spilling faintly out onto the wet cobblestone. The sign swung slightly in the breeze, creaking in the silence. Painted letters read a foreign language, though most of the paint had flaked away, leaving the name nearly illegible. The faint glow from inside gave the pub an inviting warmth, a stark contrast to the damp, cold night outside. There was even a cute owl flying above the lampposts and towards a dingy pub.
He was walking across the street when a sudden Vroom startled him. He turned to the right and saw the carriage without a horse speeding towards him at an incredibly fast speed. A loud Crash and some noises that suspiciously sounded like bones cracking interrupted the still night.
The impact comes with a sickening crunch, the body colliding hard with the front of the automobile. There’s a sharp, gut-wrenching sound as bones shatter on impact. Limbs twist in impossible directions, flung upward as the force launches them into the air, a spray of blood arcing across the scene like a crimson mist. The person’s body strikes the hood, their head snapping back with a nauseating crack before being thrown to the pathway beside.
All Fushi could think of was a: huh?