H.H.S.A Guidebook for New Inhabitants
Originally published  in 803 A.D by V. Atticus
Edition 34
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13. Crumbling, or when a person's body dissolved upon departure, occurs after a person's soul anomaly disappears. Once one's soul is clear, it waits a few days to find a new vessel that is karmically correct for them. Our life essence leaves our bodies and transfers into its new arrival at the moment of its birth, their lives imprinted in the cosmos.
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Last night I slept in Ryuzaki's bed again, and I had a strange dream.

I was on a foggy beach shore, sitting on the damp sand and looking out at the black waters, when Beyond sat next to me. He began skipping stones, acting as if he didn't even realise I was there. He seemed inconsolably sad. His eyes were glassy, giving the impression that they were brimming with tears. The wavering light brought out their peculiarly red hue, and for a moment it was so vivid that I wanted to reach out and touch him, just so that he would turn and look at me instead of the distant horizon that made him so miserable.

Like Ryuzaki, he had the demeanour of a bird. Tall, spindly, poised. I looked at him with muted awe. He felt so fragile, yet also steady and calm somehow. A creature foreign and unknowable.

I've become so abstract in the days leading to my death, haven't I? I don't pretend to say anything profound. I'm not literarily talented, and my alleged intelligence doesn't give my philosophising any kind of ethos. Maybe it'll impresses those not well-traversed in existential pondering, but any trained eye (and I suspect many of you do have this) can see me for the amateur I am. My words are flowery but they have false depth, betraying a shallow affect. In truth they're the rudimentary speculations of someone on death's door. A prisoner awaiting execution, terrified, trapped in a cell with nothing to do but ruminate. And while the analogy fits, even this feels pretentious. Though, I suppose anyone who writes an entire memoir is pretentious already.

...I wish I could be someone like Ryuzaki, who lets their accomplishments speak for them. He doesn't need to detail his own life in such an undignified fashion, because his actions show him for what he is already. Others will write it for him. That's the sort of person he is. 

But I died without accomplished anything. I left behind nothing but scorch marks and dark rumours to be remembered by. A stain on Wammy's legacy. A disgrace. So me, I have to write my life out on paper in a desperate bid to keep it from being forgotten.

Gwen was discharged yesterday. I saw her with X and Caine this morning, eating breakfast with a big smile on her face. She and X have gotten close. He shows her a gentleness I'd never seen from him before.

Ryuzaki won't leave me alone. He's like a dog that knows when his owner is leaving, making a fuss to delay their departure. He's always at my side, a loyal companion.
I love him so simply and sincerely that it pains me, pains my heart.

I wonder what I would've become had I not chosen to die. I had other options, but I chose not to take them. I could've quit, I could've run away, I could've kept going even. What would've become of me? Would I have been happy? I decided to ask Ryuzaki what he thought. We were sitting on the balcony, drinking coffee as the sun rose on two fold-out chairs separated by a table with an ashtray and and empty bottle of wine from the night before.

"I think you'd have become someone very special." Was all he said.
"What do you mean?"
"Just that."
"That's awfully vague."
"I know." He replied. "But you could've been a multitude of things — a professor, a fellow detective, anything you wanted. But no matter what you did, you would've been something special."
"Do you think we would've known each other?"
"Maybe. Even if you left Wammy's, I might reach out to you for work reasons. We probably wouldn't have met, though."
"Hm." I nodded. "You wouldn't want to meet me?"
"No, I would. But I can't compromise my anonymity over it. Besides, I'd have too much guilt."
"You really need to let go of that."

"I can't." He said, and his tone was firm. "No matter how you look at it, I played a part in the pain you experienced."
"Even if you did, you couldn't have helped it. You didn't even know what was going on."
"But I had an inkling. And I chose to dismiss it."
"That's okay. You had more important things to think of."
"No." He said, shaking his head. "Nothing is more important than the well-being of my successors. I know you've forgiven me, but I'm not allowed to forgive myself. I don't know if you can understand, but please let me be sorry."

I stayed quiet.
I did understand. His guilt couldn't be assuaged, no matter what I said or did. It was something he'd have to live with. And that's alright. All you can do is live with your regrets, and try to learn from them.

"Okay." I said quietly. "Just know I don't hold anything against you."
"I know." His voice was barely audible, a hushed whisper. "I love you."
"I love you too."
He turned and kissed me. I'm always startled by how gentle he is with me. He held me like I was something delicate, as if he was scared I'd break if mishandled.

That night, I threw myself off the balcony ledge.

I wasn't suicidal or anything. I'm long past that stage. I just wanted to feel alive.
The fog quickly enveloped me, and with it the exhilarating feeling of falling. Blackness. And then, I was blinking up at the white ceiling of the Alien Room. I received a message notifying me that an Inhabitant had fallen and re-spawned.

I tossed the phone aside and let out a long sigh. Did I wake up Ryuzaki? Lately he's been staying in my room, clinging to me and moving restlessly in his sleep. I didn't want to worry him. He'd only cause a fuss.

A few minutes later, X appeared in the window.
"Above?" He said, opening the door. He was still in his pyjamas, squinting down at me from where I laid on the floor.

"Why are you here?" I asked.
"I should be asking you that. You forget that I'm training to be the next Senior Initiatives. I get notifications too."
"Oh... right. Sorry about that."
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah."
"How'd you end up here?"
"I jumped off the balcony."

"Yeah? Why'd you do that?"
"I was bored."

He only shrugged.
"Fair enough. You gonna get up?"
"Yeah, in a bit." After taking a deep breath, I sat up and crossed my legs, taking out a cigarette and lighting it.
"Come have a smoke with me." I said, beckoning him over. He came and sat across from me, and I tossed him my pack of Newports.

After a moment of silence, X suddenly blurted out,
"How'd you kill yourself?"
"I hung myself and then set my body on fire. Why?"
"...That's kind of overkill, don't you think?" X said with a crooked grin, and then shrugged. "I just thought you might've jumped from somewhere and were trying to relive the experience."
"Nah, I just have a thing for choking now." I said, completely deadpan. "I can't help it."

X snickered, snorting smoke from his nose.
"Man, you and Ryuzaki must have a lot of fun. I'm jealous."
I returned his smile.
"That's right. You don't have to worry, by the way. I'm completely fine. I've just been feeling strange lately."
He nodded.
"I'm still a little concerned, but I'll take you at your word. I know you can handle yourself."
"Just don't tell Ryuzaki about it, ok?"
"About what? The jumping or the asphyxiation kink?"
"The jumping. He already knows about the other thing."

X laughed. "Right."

When I returned to my room, Ryuzaki was awake and waiting for me. His eyes were tired and bloodshot, but just as intense as ever.
"Where were you?" He asked.
"In the Communal Hall." I said. "I wanted some pretzels."
"Really? How did you get from the balcony ledge to the Hall?"
Shit. Caught in a lie.

I let out a sigh, and he went on.
"You just jumped off the balcony in the dead of night." He said, and I could hear him getting upset. "Why? Why would you do that? A-Are you— well?!"
"I'm not suicidal." I said defensively. "What am I supposed I say? I'm a bit past the point of wanting to die, you know. "
"It doesn't matter!" I was alarmed by the emotion in his voice. He normally had an even temper, and I'd never seen him so worked up.

"—Ryuzaki!" I said, beginning to lose my cool. "I told you, I'm fine. Would you please just let it be?"
"How could I possibly let it go, Above? You just jump off the ledge and I'm supposed to ignore it? I mean, what am I supposed to make of this?" I saw in his expression a flurry of fear, anger, anxiety, concern... and suddenly I felt overwhelmingly guilty.

"...I'm sorry." I muttered, abandoning the resentful facade and burying my face in my hands. "I'm okay, really. I was just... frustrated. I don't know how to explain it. I never meant to scare you."

Ryuzaki's face fell, and his shoulders dropped.
"I was scared, Above." He said. He got up and came over to me, pulling me into a hug. He held me close to him, so close that it felt like he was desperate.

"Please don't do that again." He whispered.

His words hurt. You know, loving people brings nothing but pain. It hurts so much sometimes that I want to cry, and that takes a lot coming from me.

The last time I cried was... six years ago now. Yeah, six. Someone I cared for Crumbled. He was the head nurse when I first came here. I was hospitalised for my first couple weeks, and in that time he was always kind to me. We were together for a brief period, until one day I woke up covered in grey ash. And that was it. I broke down and threw a tantrum bad enough to get me another two weeks on the third floor.

After that I told myself, never again. And so since then, I've never let myself get to that point. I try my best not to feel anything in the first place, avoiding anything that might disrupt my life's fragile equilibrium.

But even still, I cried. I cried a lot. I couldn't bear it, not when he was holding me like that. And for once the tears felt good, and instead of crushing loneliness I actually felt better in the end.

In the end, Ryuzaki held me close to him until he eventually fell asleep. I, on the other hand, couldn't. He's only been dead for a short time and is still able to sleep every night, but I'm far past that point. My ability to sleep has been wiped away almost entirely by the years I've spent here. Penance, maybe, for being allowed to exist so long after dying. So I just laid there in the dark as he slept. I must've stayed like that for hours.

At around four in the morning, I crept out of bed and went to the balcony for a smoke. I was staring down at the fog below, fixated on that haze of nothingness.

I've always found something about that fog alluring. I'm drawn to it.
Maybe it's because my life ended in suicide. I chose to fall into that nothingness, not knowing that it wasn't actually the end. To people who are unhappy with their world, that unknowable abyss is something morbid but comforting, enchanting even.

But life isn't like that, now is it? It seems like there's no escaping from it. Even if you throw yourself off a building or put a bullet through your skull, you can't hide from the quiet agony of existing. One way or another, life holds on to you.
Apparently, it's an inescapable truth.
My cigarette was nearly out. I took one last draw and then tossed it off the balcony, watching it fall in slow motion into that haze.

I went back inside, being careful to stay quiet as to not disturb the sleeping Ryuzaki.
He was so beautiful when he slept. Just the sight of him made me want to cry again, but I didn't let myself.

There was a noise at the door. Scratching? I went over and opened the door to find Psychopomp. He meowed, his wide blue eyes staring up at me expectantly.

"What is it, Pomp?" I asked. He continued to mewl angrily until I scooped him up, bringing him back outside to the balcony. I sat down cross-legged and he curled up in my lap, purring.

"You're such a weird guy." I said to him with a smile, and lit another cigarette. Might as well, I figured.
A passage from the Halfway House's guidebook rang in my ears.

'You will continue to exist until the anomaly in your soul has been resolved.'

Maybe it's better to just accept it. Part of being a human is, along with many other things, to suffer. To struggle against the cruelty of your condition and fight for a kind of happiness, whatever that may mean. Giving up just isn't an option. Life always goes on, you always wake up the next day.

That's it, isn't it? Is that my soul anomaly? I took my life for granted, and so I'll never get to be known as anything. To have lived, to have loved, to have become someone that's a part of something bigger than myself. Isn't that the meaning of life?
Yes, the world is cold and unfeeling, but it's also anything but. The world is as beautiful as it is horrible, as cruel as it is kind and compassionate. And the only reason humans continue to live in the first place is because we have no other choice. We could always die, but then we wouldn't be able to enjoy the simple pleasures that exist alongside that suffering. We wouldn't have the the joy of loving someone, the satisfaction of achieving something and feeling proud, or even something as simple as watching the sun rise or enjoying a smoke. Or at least, we shouldn't have it. The Halfway House — the fact that we still exist at all — is in and of itself a wonderful anomaly.

I regret dying. Horribly. I never really realised that I regretted it until now, but it's the greatest mistake I've ever made. I shouldn't have ended things. I should have kept fighting for my own sake. I deserved better from myself.
I nearly said 'I'm sorry, God' out loud, but I've done nothing against any God. The only person I've wronged is myself. I know that now. 

I'm in a decaying body that I'm beginning to outgrow. I'm unable to sleep, to feel hunger or true pain. I don't even have the freedom to die. I sit under an alien moon and unrecognisable skies surrounded by luxuries and comforts, yet all I want is to be on Earth again. To feel the sun against my skin, the dirt below my feet.
We're not meant to be here, alone somewhere in the stars. We don't belong in this mist. We belong on Earth, which is as kind as it is cruel and as beautiful as it is ugly. We belong in that schism, in that battle between chaos and order.

There, we find ourselves.

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