What is this thing people call home?
It can be many things.
Warmth.
Company.
Comfort.
These are clear and obvious examples.
But if you really think about it, they are nothing more than actions creating more actions.
Action from one person plus action from another equals a comfortable home.
But like any chain, it can break or wear down over time.
Why am I bringing this up?
Raindrops fell on my face.
Ah, that's right.
Every October fourteenth, the sky seems to remind me of the day I lost everything.
A fire broke out that night, just hours before the rain started.
It's absurd.
The rain remembering?
It's just a coincidence.
Then again...
A coincidence is just a probability. It might happen in a complicated way, but it can still happen.
Rain falling every single October fourteenth is not statistically possible. Many people have tried to explain this strange phenomenon. The truth is, only I have the answer.
In fact, people around me were already cursing the sky for this exact reason.
"Damn it. My mother was right. I shouldn't have gone out to see that boy today."
"I just hope I get home before I catch a cold. I get sick so easily."
People walked right past me. They never even looked my way.
I cursed a few times too. I didn't curse the sky. I cursed life itself.
It isn't logical. You can't talk directly to life. But I always ended up having those thoughts.
"Hey, life, why me?"
"Hey, life, what made you think I wanted any of this?"
They were logical questions for an illogical situation.
"The strong exist to protect the weak."
Ah, those words.
My mother said that just months before she died. That single phrase turned me into what I am today:
A machine that saves everyone.
The problem is I never saved people just to save them. I did it to follow her words.
I never saved anyone because I thought it was the right thing to do. I only followed her order.
I let out a breath.
The rain was soaking me.
Did I care?
No.
"Was I wrong?"
I whispered into the dark. I hoped for an answer while mourning a wasted life.
I couldn't really explain it. I never cared much about the meaning of my name anyway. My name is Hikari, but I no longer represent what it stands for.
Now I am darkness.
A darkness that consumes all light.
"Mom. Why do I miss you so much? Why now and not before?"
I didn't even know who I was talking to. The people walking past gave me weird looks. Maybe I just looked like a fool talking to himself in the rain.
Despite everything, I was never this empty inside.
Over eighteen years ago, I was a happy kid. I was impossible to break.
No matter how hard anyone tried, they couldn't put out my light.
Back then, the name I was given suited me perfectly.
Then the fire happened. It appeared out of nowhere along with a strange light that guided me to the exit.
I don't remember exactly what happened. The only thing on my mind was that light. It wouldn't leave me alone until I followed it.
No. "Leave me alone" isn't the right way to put it.
Because I followed it like a mosquito drawn to the light.
Before I knew it, the house was engulfed in flames.
"They're inside! Let me save them!"
A man held me back tightly. He treated me like a wild animal. Looking at his eyes, I probably was one.
"I'm sorry, kid. I'm so sorry."
I bit him.
I scratched.
I kicked.
I screamed.
Even so, the man never let go.
By the time the firefighters arrived, the flames were already dying down.
They found my parents three hours later. They were still holding each other.
At the funeral, everyone said the same things.
"Poor thing."
"They are in a better place."
As if death was better than a normal Saturday.
"Hikari is a strong boy."
A strong boy, huh?
I let out a cynical sigh in the pouring rain.
An eight-year-old boy didn't want to be strong. He just wanted a mom, a dad, his own bed, and an ugly stuffed animal.
I couldn't say anything to them anymore. I had lost them.
Secrets in boxes.
That was what they became.
I couldn't even attend the funeral properly. The shoes they lent me were way too big.
...
Then came the orphanage.
I lay down on the bed in the corner.
"What do you see, Hikari?"
My mother's voice echoed in my head. I couldn't stop it.
What was I seeing?
Water stains on the ceiling that looked like continents. Mom used to play that game with me when we looked at the clouds.
"A dragon!"
"Yeah? And what is the dragon doing?"
"It's flying to the castle to rescue the princess."
She always laughed. Her laugh made everything better. Then she would give me a tight hug while looking up at the clouds with bright eyes.
But she was gone now.
The stains were not clouds.
No one asked me what I saw anymore.
And only empty memories remained.
Years later, I learned fencing.
No one taught me. I just used the internet and a wooden stick I found in the garden.
To my surprise, or maybe as my punishment, I was very good at it.
By the time the orphanage told me to join the kendo club, my skills were already at the highest level.
As I walked, I noticed something that froze me in my tracks.
It was October fourteenth. It was exactly 10:38 at night.
"Hika..."
"Ri..."
Every raindrop left me a message.
What did it mean?
The element was speaking to me.
I could control water.
Or rather, I could communicate with it.
It was a part of me. I was a part of it.
Later on, I realized I could do the same with the other elements.
The earth matched my hardened state.
The air provided resistance for me.
The water flowed with me.
And fire...
How could I expect it to talk to me? How could I not want to reject it?
Even so, it stubbornly kept trying to speak to me.
Over time, I understood that the fire was not to blame. It was just passion. It was pure energy that gave warmth. The real problem was the cause. The problem was the person who used it.
And now, standing in this rain...
"If only I could..."
I wanted to go back to being that boy who laughed without faking it.
"To have them again..."
A mother who smelled like fresh bread. A father who...
Wait.
My father told me something a few days before the fire.
"Higher, Dad, higher!"
"If I push you any higher, you'll go flying."
"I don't care!"
He laughed. When he set me down, his face turned serious. It was like he had a bad feeling.
"Hikari, listen to me. No matter what happens, no matter how hard life gets, you have to live. Do you understand? Live fully. Don't just exist. Live."
"Dad?"
"I promise."
I forgot my promise to him. I followed my mother's words instead.
"Protect the weak." That became my only guide.
For eighteen years, I didn't live. I only existed.
What would he do if he knew? Could he even know?
At that exact moment, I snapped back to reality.
A truck was speeding through the dark toward two people.
It was a man and a little girl.
They were in the middle of the street. The girl was holding her ankle.
The truck had no headlights or taillights.
Before I could even think, my body moved on its own.
I shot forward. I used the wind to remove the air resistance. I told the rain to stay out of my eyes so I could see clearly. I commanded the water to dry the ground under my feet so I wouldn't slip and lose speed.
"Damn it. I'm not going to make it. What do I do?"
I could stop the truck with my powers. But doing that would only make me less human.
People would investigate the incident. My life would become nothing more than a case file.
I might be seen as a hero at first. But eventually, my powers would just make people afraid of me. And the fear of the unknown is the strongest kind of fear.
"...what if...?"
If I save her, I would be saving myself.
I could execute my final command. I could end my life's programming and use this rescue as an excuse to end it all.
That is why this wouldn't be heroic or noble. It would be the most selfish act possible. But at the same time, it would be the most human.
I threw myself between the truck and the little girl.
For a split second, I saw my mother's eyes in hers.
I waited for the impact.
I waited for the end of everything.
I truly didn't care anymore.
The elements understood my final wish.
The wind roared against the truck and pushed back with immense force.
The water stripped the asphalt of its slickness and created pure friction.
The fire choked the engine out. The earth shot stone spikes upward, piercing the truck in several places.
That was enough to stop the truck dead in its tracks.
But the impact reached me before the spikes did.
I only had one thought left. Maybe two. I'm not really sure anymore.
"Forgive me, Mom, for not protecting anyone else."
A dead person can't save anyone.
"Forgive me, Dad, for not living the way you told me to."
I died without keeping my promise to you.
Now, all that remained was the final sensation before death.
A high-pitched sound. A loud ringing piercing my eardrums.