"You weren't there for it," I said."Got all over my shoes."
"I wondered why you were barefoot."
"He's in there," Rhonda said, gesturing, and Tamara and I stood on the threshold.
The building was a niche tabletop gaming store—Board games and comic books, video games and video game accessories everywhere.A man was lying on the floor in the back on a pile of old comics and—well—I say man, but he was half of a man if that.He was leafing through a comic book with an air of dejection.
At least, his remaining arm leafed through it.
"How are you still alive?"I asked.
"A creature that never was alive never can be alive again," he said.His voice was mercurial—fluted, high, and sardonic along the edges."A creature such as I never was alive.Even when I was but a small babe."
"Nagisa?"I asked.
He tossed the comic book away from him with a world-weary sigh.I stared at him.A splatter of blood had congealed on the ground beneath him.Despite what little was here of him, I got the strong impression of some ethereal being—a half-dead Prince, surrounded by a throne of his final belongings.
"Alas, it is I.And you… are Stacey.Where are the others?"
"Hartshome," I said."I'm backup."
He laughed at me.His peals of mockery rang through the air like little bells.
"Girl child.You are no way, shape or form any kind of backup.I think we both know that."
"Look, you need to heal up."
"There is no healing.What's the point?Even were you able to bring me enough of the braying sheep outside, it would be fruitless.What am I but some creature of the night?I have tried so hard… and yet nothing I could do ultimately mattered."
"He's given up," Rhonda said."I can't blame him.He's not half the man he used to be."
"Poor taste, Rho," Nagisa said."Come closer, so I can slap you for your insolence."
Rhonda just shook her head.
"Why are you here?"I asked.
"Why are any of us here?"Nagisa asked."I was born in an internment camp.My parents were a Japanese soldier and the Chinese woman he raped.That is why I am here.Cursed from birth.Seed spilled from a crime.No wonder I would grow up and find all of my efforts fruitless."
"You are a real downer," Tamara said.
"Perhaps my happiness organ was left behind when I was torn in half today," he said, voice snitty.
"Look, I know things seems a little grim right now—" I started.
"A little grim?"Nagisa blinked at me."I'm naught but an arm and a torso.Were I even to regrow myself, the Regional Council would put us on trial and burn us to death when they arrive to rescue us.I have surrounded myself by the things I used as a goalpost for my development.These stories… these fictions all around us.They make our inner worlds so beautiful, and yet perhaps that makes the world around us all the more grotesque.Wouldn't you agree?"
I didn't know what to say.Nagisa and I didn't know each other at all.I had seen him in passing; heard lots about him, of course, but there was little substance to the knowledge I had about him.He was an enigma—and that meant I wasn't sure where to even begin here.This was going to be a struggle, getting him going again… and I wasn't sure if I was going to handle it right.
"I brought food," Methuselah said behind us.
Tamara and I turned.By the look on her face, she was expecting a person, I guess… but instead, there were pretzels.And two huge bucket-sized sodas.My stomach growled.
"Carbs," I said, my voice dreamy."Come to me you bucket of corn syrup."
Tamara and I grabbed our food and then turned again.Tamara stared at Nagisa.
"I can't eat like this," Tamara whispered to me."He's throwing me off my appetite."
