4.1. The Meaning of Life

Fifteen years before the Ascension Project began, and twenty-three years before Bluelock would begin, a young boy sat in a small apartment.

His mother and father always affectionately called him their little devil, because their child, Ryu Nishida, didn't seem to be completely human. From the moment he'd been born, he'd always shown less emotion compared to other babies. They cried - he sniffled. They laughed - he smiled. They threw tantrums - he just stared up at his parents with a mildly annoyed expression.

Yet, he was still adorable. And his parents loved him all the same.

But when he learnt to read, years before any of the other kids, and when he began to pick fights with others at his school, they figured something might be seriously wrong. Then came the doctor visits. But nobody could understand why, or what was different about him.

"Ryu! I'm home!"

His dark brown eyes glanced up, towards the apartment's entrance. A middle-aged man was just taking off his shoes, hanging up his scarf and coat, and letting out a soft sigh at the warmth of the room. That was his father.

And in just a few seconds, his mother came from a side room. She immediately got busy, sorting out her husband's shoes and beckoning Ryu to come over. Ryu didn't move, holding a book a little tighter in his small hands. "Hi, dad."

Their apartment was cosy. Not too big, not too small, with enough space for the three of them to live well. It wasn't in a very nice part of the city, though. The area was safe, but dirty and unkempt, with cracked roads and faulty streetlamps. Yet it was home to them.

The man smiled warmly down at him. He headed over, scooping up Ryu in a princess carry and ignoring the little noise of annoyance. "How was school?"

"Normal." Ryu answered flatly. He pressed the book to his chest, folding small arms over it.

"What did you do at home?"

"Read."

"Want to do anything this weekend?"

"No."

"We could go to that museum you saw online. See the dinosaurs?"

"No."

"Is that book nice?"

"Yes."

Maybe any other parent would've been upset, or weirded out by the single word answers from their nine year old boy, but Ryu's parents didn't pay it any attention. It'd been like that since the start, and they had gotten used to it. "What's it about?"

Ryu reluctantly showed him the cover. His father's eyes widened a little. "The Christian Bible?" He let out a soft laugh, and shifted Ryu in his arms. "You like reading it?"

Nodding silently, Ryu returned his attention to the book. His father smiled down at him, even though the young boy couldn't see it. "Do you just like that one? Or do you want the other religious books too?"

"Other ones too." Ryu quietly said. "Thank you."

And that thank you, even said in one of the most monotone voices his parents had ever heard, even from a boy who had his head in a book, was enough to warm both of their hearts.

His father put Ryu down on the sofa. His mother beckoned him away, and the two snapped a picture before moving to the kitchen. Ryu didn't even notice the picture taken of him, lips pressed together in a half pout, half serious expression.

"How many religious books are there?" The man quietly asked.

"A lot."

"Right... do you think the library has them?"

An exhale. "I'd hope so. Why, are they too expensive?"

"Everything is too expensive right now."

"Yeah..."

"Don't worry, okay? I'll make sure it doesn't affect you or Ryu."

"Don't work yourself too hard, yeah?"

"I won't." A chuckle. "You know me."

"I do."

"Ma...?"

Both of them paused, halting their talking for a second. From the living room, Ryu's quiet, calm voice called a second time. "Ma..."

His mother winked and made to leave the kitchen. "I'm the favourite parent."

"Yeah, right."

She hurried over to Ryu, smiling down at him. From the kitchen, the clatter of pans rang out as the father began to prepare dinner. She would go to help him... as soon as she was done talking to her beloved son. "Hey, dear... you called?"

Ryu pointed at the book. "Luke 12:15 - 'Take care, and be on your guard against all covetousness, for one's life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions.'" He tilted his head to one side, staring up at his mother. "What does that mean?"

His mother was too used to strange questions from her son. She smiled, thinking it over. "I think this part..." She pointed to the first few clauses. "Means to not care too much about your worldly possessions. The second is trying to tell you that the meaning of life isn't in how many things you have."

Ryu slowly looked down to the book. And then back up at his mother. "What is the meaning of life, then? Human life."

"Well. Are you asking my opinion?"

"Yes."

"To me..." Her face grew a little dazed. "I think life is about emotion. Feeling things, you know?"

"No."

She laughed gently. "Like... happiness. Sadness. Anger. Love. Hope. Peace." His mother listed off a few things. "I think life is about enjoying the highs, grieving the lows, and always staying open to feel different things. You've heard that question before? Rather to have loved and lost, or never loved at all? I choose the first."

Ryu stilled, thoughtfully chewing on the inside of his cheek. "What is it like to lose? To feel sad."

"Why do you ask?"

"I'm just curious."

"You know what feeling sad is like." His mother chided lightly. "Everyone does."

"Do I?"

"Yes, dear." She nodded, and patted his hair. Ryu didn't react at all to the touch - not that it mattered to her. "You were sad when we tried to feed you green pepper."

"I was?"

"Yes, Ryu. You got all pouty."

"Oh." Ryu stared at the book. "You said you would rather love and lose." Have you done that before?"

"Yes." His mother responded. "Many times."

"Do you love me?"

His mother stopped. It was an unexpected question. One that she hadn't expected from him. Ryu never liked talking about emotions. He never showed much, he never liked to see other people show much. But answering that question was easy as breathing.

"Yes." She nodded, eyes soft as she looked down at her child. "I do."

Later that night, Ryu Nishida woke up.

He lay in bed, staring at the low ceiling. His parents had somehow managed to give him his own bedroom - a small room that used to be a storage cupboard of sorts. But they'd made it work.

And then he rose from his bed. Silently slipped to the floor, ghosted along the apartment floor. His footsteps were muffled. It was dark.

He padded across the apartment towards the kitchen, childlike in manner, wholly adult in thought. "Emotions make a person human." He whispered under his breath. "I need emotion."

Quietly, he headed for the kitchen counter, scrounging the drawers until he found a simple lighter.

"I love mom, right...? So if I lose her, maybe I'll feel sad." He flicked on the lighter, testing it. Youthful face lit up by the small flame, he sighed. "Maybe I'll feel more human."

He grabbed as much burnable stuff as he could. Cooking oil. Paper. The dry gin that his dad liked to drink. He took hold of the stove, turning it on so the acrid taste of gas began to fill the room. And the entire time, his nine-year old eyes glimmered with excitement. "Feel human... feel human..."

It was one of the first times that he'd ever felt excitement. And that only made him more excited. He wanted to feel. He wanted to understand what it was like, to be... normal.

And then he flicked on the lighter.

That night, the house burnt. The entire block burnt.

And Ryu, soon to rename himself Kuroi, felt absolutely nothing.

🥕🥕🥕

Kira Ryosuke woke up for the third time that night, eyes shooting open. He shot up in his bed so fast all the blood rushed to his head, groaning. "Fuck..."

He'd escaped Ascension. And from there, he'd returned home as fast as humanly possible.

When he'd knocked on the door, his parents hadn't been expecting him. How long had he spent in that place...? He himself didn't know. He needed to see the date. But they'd quickly realised it was, in fact, their son. Bruised, battered, injured as he was, even the haunted look in his eyes couldn't tell them otherwise.

And it was only when they'd tugged him inside, crying with relief, hugging him so tight to their chests that Kira couldn't breathe, that he'd realised how long he'd been gone.

Three fucking months.

He'd spent three months there. As his parents had explained, he'd gone on the news as missing. In fact, there were more and more missing cases every day. He was the only one that had returned. And he'd told them everything.

Of course, it'd been a stretch for them to believe. A secret facility, in the middle of the Japanese wilderness. But looking over his injuries, and after a private doctor had been called to confirm he wasn't drugged, they finally gave in. They'd held off on sleep tablets for the time being, hoping he'd be able to continue life without medication.

So, for the first time in a hundred days, he'd cleaned himself properly. Kira had stood under the shower for half an hour, just soaking in the heat and relishing the comfort it gave him. And then, he'd headed to sleep in his own bed.

Only to wake up again. And again. And now, a third time, expecting a deafening bell to wake him up like it had in that place.

Rolling out of his bed, Kira yawned. He rubbed at both eyes, grimacing. He left his room, heading to the living room of their house.

Despite it being late at night, his parents were both still there. His little brother too, curled up with his head on his mother's lap. They both looked at him as he padded in, eyes immediately growing worried.

Kira sighed. "Can't sleep." He muttered. "Can I get the pills?"

His mother hurried over to him with them. "Yeah." She breathed. "Yeah, of course. Want to sit with us a while?"

"Sure."

He took a seat near them. His parents fidgeted awkwardly. "So," his dad began. "We... uh, wanted to ask you if you wanted any medical treatment...?"

"Most of the injures heal themselves." Kira replied softly. "It'll be fine. We don't need to talk about it in front of..." He waved a hand, motioning to his little brother.

"I know." His dad said. "Your injuries can be treated easily enough, but I wanted to know if you felt like you needed therapy...?"

His dad was unsure - and Kira had never, ever seen him unsure. He swallowed his guilt. "Y-yeah..." He murmured. "That would be good. Both."

"Okay." His dad turned his eyes to the table. Kira moistened his lips.

"Thank you, dad." He added. "Really."

"It's no problem." The man sighed. "Not at all."

"Did you... call the police? About Ascension? There's still people there."

His mother took over, a little more confident. "The police won't listen to us unless we have solid info. So no, we can't ask them to explore there." She made a face. "But I'll keep trying, okay?"

Kira nodded. He wanted to sleep. His eyes itched, and the pills in his hand felt heavy. For the past months, his body had been functioning on barely enough. And now, it was desperate, begging for rest. "Can I..." He yawned.

"Yeah." His mother gave him a tight smile. "Yeah, Kira. Sleep well."

"Thank you." Kira made for the door, then stopped. He turned back. "Make sure you guys sleep too, okay?"

The small smile spread to his dad's face too. "Yeah. Okay, kiddo." He gave a small wiggle of his fingers in a mini-wave. "See you in the morning. Love you."

Kira inhaled sharply. It'd been a long time since he'd heard that.

Too long.

"L-love you." Quietly, he managed a reply. Then he was walking, shutting the door to his bedroom, and staring down at the sleeping pills.

One stupid decision could've cost him everything. His parents, his life, his little brother, his friends, everything. He'd nearly thrown it all away, just to be a little better at soccer?

And now, having it all back again, he realised he would be thanking the boy who'd rescued him for the rest of his life.

Y/N L/N. Kira shook two pills into the cupped palm of his hand. He sighed tiredly, sitting on the edge of his bed. He wanted to know what he was doing. He wanted to thank him again, wanted to offer him literally anything he could. What are you doing now...?

But thinking wouldn't solve anything.

So Kira swallowed the two pills, and let the black oblivion of sleep take him.