“Why is this here?” I raise a brow as he types in a long code. I don’t bother trying to see or remember the numbers. It’s not like I’m trying to escape the Dark Forces. I mean, where would someone like me even run to?
The lock clicks and the barred door swings open from the hole above.
I climb up first and he trails right behind me.
“In case of a raid, or if an earthquake collapses the base and the stairs are inaccessible. These tunnels are reinforced and won’t break under the pressure like the main section of the building would.” He makes it sound so convenient.
“Then why are we using it right now? Where exactly are you taking me?” I say suspiciously as we near the top. A breeze drafts in from the vent above, moonlight drips down and illuminates the area.
“No more questions. Just keep going and don’t look down,” Mori mutters with amusement. Of course, I look down after he mentions it.
We’re already so high up that the bottom is almost out of view. It looks like a dark pit. My hands instantly get sweaty and I secure them to the metal steps with a vise grip.
He snorts, trying to keep his laughter in.
“You did that on purpose.” I force myself to keep moving, only breathing a sigh of relief when we finally get to the top and I’m back on the ground.
Mori carefully places the grate back in place and stands, offering me his hand. I narrow my eyes but take his offer. He pulls me up and I survey the area.
We’re on the outer edge of the base. The beach and ocean are a little over a hundred feet away from us. The evening air is brisk but fresh with the scent of salt and mist on its wind. The sound of the waves crashing into themselves drown out all other sound.
“Okay, so you brought me to the ocean?” I smile arrogantly, actually kind of appreciating the night adventure to take my mind off the heinous things I did today and remembered doing in my past. The fresh tattoo on my back feels like a warm trail of liquid down my spine.
He steps down from the small mound of rocks we’re up on and I follow.
When he doesn’t reply I press him. “Mori?”
A scowl and then his expression twists with anguished eyes. “You know, I actually hate it when you call me that.”
I tilt my head. “What do you want me to call you then? Everyone calls you Mori.”
He considers my words for a moment before turning his attention to the sea and gazing at the distant waves as they form white tips beneath the moon. I wonder if they reach for it, only to be brought back down by gravity.
“I know everyone calls me that. It’s because to them I’m a monster. A thing that doesn’t have a name. Only a definition. Faceless. Death.”
I smile at his grimness. His words need to be written down and pressed into gravestones and placed in old libraries for remembrance.
My eyes catch on a twig stuck in his hair. I pull it out gently as I reply, “What does that make me then after what I’ve done today?” I can’t bring myself to tell him about my memory of my father. Not yet anyway. At least I had control in the past. I knew what it was that I was doing, and even took my own liberties with what I did to the bodies after. Today was something else entirely.
He stares at me for a few moments, thoughts flickering across his eyes, before lifting his hand for mine. Ignoring my question, he asks, “Have you had a hard time sleeping yet? From the drugs, I mean.” His voice is soft, but there’s sadness in his tone. Like he knows the answer already and what it means.
I place my hand in his and every fiber of my being leaps as our skin meets.
“Yeah, sort of. I feel wide awake right now, and it has been difficult falling asleep. When I do, it’s filled with restless dreams. Ithink I’ve actually remembered more about myself in the past few days than in all the weeks after I woke up,” I whisper.
Exhaustion pulls at his eyes, red kisses the skin around his lashes with sleepless nights. “Get used to it, you’ll spend many more nights awake and wandering the world in the dark like I do.”
“Is that how you knew about the vent? Do you walk this beach line often?” My voice is weak at the thought of him alone most of his time here. He certainly doesn’t make it easy being close to him, though.
“Yeah, what else is there to do? I’ve already read all the books in the library, counted every tile on the floors of every room, and thought about every death I’ll eventually come to know.” He says it like he doesn’t mind the loneliness his life seems to bear, but there’s melancholy in his gaze. There always is. Perhaps that’s why I find him so lovely and daunting.
Sad things usually are quite beautiful, after all.
“You?Dying?I’m pretty sure you’re immortal from the stories I’ve already heard about you.” I chuckle.
A trickle of blood streams down his lips. He doesn’t even seem fazed by it. He simply wipes it away with his sleeve. It’s easy to think we’re fine because we can’t feel the aftereffects of the pills, but we aren’t fine. Probably not by a long shot.
“My nose has been bleeding for a few days now,” I admit. He was there the first night, but I’ve been much more careful since then to keep it a secret.
