Rangers Endgame

Chapter 129: Light in the Abyss

Yakeru’s lungs burned within the amethyst-tinged air as he fled in a panic. His aching feet bled, leaving crimson prints in the wake of his terror. The apathetic void spared him no sense of direction. His muscles screamed, and his bones throbbed, but he didn’t stop; he couldn’t when it was gaining on him.

The haunting screech of its underbelly grinding against the spectral floor as it unleashed an earth-shattering bellow sent a tsunami of despair crashing over him. Despite the flood of adrenaline, his body’s complaints clawed through his sense of survival.

He gnashed his teeth and pushed through anyway.

“Help me! Please!” a voice pleaded from his right, its source hidden within the abyss.

“It’s over, youngster,” another said from his left. “Give up.”

An agonizing scream exploded from behind him, which was then immediately silenced with a soul-chilling crunch, but he kept moving.

His soles turned raw, and the knives of pain dragged across his bones. The air in his lungs thinned, and his vision teetered. With each step, with each jagged breath, his body inched closer to collapse.

The bellowing grew unbearable, and against his better judgment, he looked back. Eight gleaming eyes of unbridled hunger stared back at him. His knees buckled under the pressure, and the titan’s jaws unlocked. He watched helplessly as darkness devoured him whole.

Yakeru jolted awake with a gasp, sweat drenching his sheets and heart hammering in his chest. Ragged breaths filled the hollow silence of his room as he tried to shake off the ghastly whispers of death’s embrace. His eyes darted from the nightstand to the wardrobe, his trembling fingers strangling his sheets to ground himself.

As his heart gradually slowed and his breath grew steady, he willed himself to let go of that which no longer posed a threat. Swinging his legs over the edge of his bed, he cradled his head with scarred hands and forced himself to relax.

Of course it didn’t help.

Threading his fingers through his long, dark hair, he stood and made his way to the living room for a drink of water. He took a wooden cup and strolled out onto the balcony, its door already open, where the tub of water was. Dipping his cup into the water, he drank, letting its cool touch soothe his nerves.

As Yakeru took another sip, his longing gaze scaled the chasm’s walls, past the ensnaring jagged teeth, and out into the peaceful night beyond. Even the moon’s pale light struggled to reach him. Because at his depths, the abyss would never afford him the luxury of comfort.

“Can’t sleep?” a soft voice announced to his left.

Looking over, he found Fuyumi with her legs hanging freely off the balcony’s edge, leaning back on her hands.

He lifted his cup. “Just a parched throat.”

“Right.” Her tone told him she wasn’t buying his excuse.

She glanced at the empty space next to her, a silent invitation. He sat down beside her, his feet hanging off the edge as he leaned on his hand. The world lay in silence with only the perpetual plunge of distant waters to fill the void.

From the corner of his eye, he knew Fuyumi had noticed the lingering fear still quaking through his hand, even if it never showed on his features. Her face softened with understanding, and she contemplated something, her fingers twitching in hesitation. Looking up at the sky again, Yakeru tried to use the calm of twilight to ease himself, but to no avail. It was only when he felt something soft caress his hand that his nerves responded.

Looking over, Fuyumi had laid her hand atop his, and her face angled away. Even in the night, he could still make out the color tinging her cheeks. Regardless of the callouses on her palm, her warm touch melted away his distress, and the trembling in his hand gradually subsided.

“I suppose I can’t get past you,” he admitted. “I take it you’re out here for the same reason.”

She looked at him curiously. “What makes you say that?”

He sifted through his memories, drawing upon an old conversation. “If I recall correctly from our time in Yama, every time you close your eyes, you… well, you implied that getting a good night’s rest can be something of a chore.”

Surprise moved through her eyes as she hadn’t expected him to remember, and her saddened gaze fell to her lap. “Yeah...”

He considered her for a moment and let out an empathetic breath. Turning his palm up, his fingers curled around her hand consolingly. Her startled eyes naturally jumped to their joined hands, and he half expected her to pull away. Instead, she relaxed and reciprocated with a gentle squeeze of her own.

They stayed like that for a while, embracing the faint melody of the echoing waters.

“How have you been holding up recently?” She asked softly.

He thought about his answer before saying, “It feels like it’s been pushing back against my efforts to come to terms. I guess it’ll take more time.”

She nodded in understanding and lifted her gaze towards the quiet heavens, far out of her reach. “It’s a deep place that seems like you can’t quite climb out of, huh?” She leaned her head toward him. “But I know you. You just have to be patient with yourself.”

“I know. And I trust that you're heeding your own advice?”

She didn't answer, but the conflict flickering across her features was telling. His mind jumped back to her rigorous battle with the bloodhound, the day he almost watched his friend die. He’d stockpiled many hidden truths to protect his only family. He wondered if she’d done the same.

“Does your family know about your ruthless crusade?” he questioned.

“They don’t need to know,” she answered resolutely. “My dad saw the aftermath of what happened to my old village, so he was already skeptical about me becoming a ranger. Kei was on the other side of the spectrum; he was eager to know about monsters and unique landscapes and whatnot.”

Yakeru smiled fondly to himself. “I can imagine the passionate gleam in his eyes every time his idolized sister came back with a tale to tell.”

Fuyumi chortled. “The brat has a terrible habit of ambushing me with questions every time I come home. And is particularly interested in what the profession is like. It isn’t what he expected, so he often pesters me.”

Yakeru looked over, her cascading silver hair almost gleaming under the starry sky. “And is it what you expected?”

She paused, trying to find the right words. “My focus has always been on slaying monsters, so I had no reason to care about anything else. I used to think being forced to travel with a party was going to be an inconvenience. But now…” She squeezed his hand again, almost possessively. “It annoys me to think that I might’ve been wrong.”

Something fluttered inside him at her answer, but he quickly quelled the uncomfortable sensation.

“Still,” she continued. “Neither of them knows my true motive, of course. Kei would beg me to stay, and my dad would kill me himself if he knew the lengths I would go.”

“Huh…” he muttered thoughtfully.

She looked at him with a curious brow. “What?”

“I’m just trying to understand why it’s okay for you to go to extreme lengths, but when I do it, you nag me for it,” he pointed out.

She tried shooting him a serious look, but couldn't quite hide the faint smirk at the hypocrisy. “I don’t nag.”

He returned her smirk. “Apologies. You only honor me with the most colorful of words.”

“If such colors wound you so much, you could’ve just said so,” she bantered back.

He shook his head. “And neuter your delightful icy charm? That would truly be a shame.”

Fuyumi rolled her eyes and tittered as he looked back up at the shimmering lights beyond the abyssal maw.

“I get it, though. Having your people worry can be… distracting.”

She nodded again. “Indeed.”

Another moment of calm silence passed between them. His mind hung on her earlier words, and before long, curiosity took hold.

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” he finally said. “But I take it you and your family used to live in another village than the one I’ve seen. What was it like?”

She didn’t answer for a long while, and he was going to drop the subject.

“Ordinary,” she broke the silence. “It wasn’t very extravagant, but it’s the place that holds my most treasured memories.”

She paused again as the surrounding air turned wistful. “My mother would always take me to my favorite diner, and I’d order the same thing every time. And along the way, she’d let me run around the playground.”

“I can’t imagine you at a playground,” he said, struggling to picture a young ice queen running with other kids with playful abandon.

She shrugged somberly. “Life can have a twisted way of changing people.”

His thumb gently stroked the back of her hand, over a scar that wasn’t there when he’d first met her. “It can also have a way of bringing people together to get through change.”

Fuyumi looked at him for a long while, and for the first time, heat threatened to rise to his face. Embarrassment clashed with surprise when she turned her head to conceal chiming laughter, a delightful sound to his ears that he never thought would come from her.

“That was cheesy, even for you.”

He angled his face away, too. “I thought I worded it better in my head,” he admitted.

The moon had shifted in the sky, and its reposeful light finally managed to reach their depths.

“It doesn’t matter. Because it's like I said before...” She touched his shoulder with hers to get his attention. When he turned back, a genuine smile graced her lips, and her soft oceanic gaze held a tender sparkle under the moon’s tranquility. “I can tolerate you.”

Yakeru’s words got lost in his throat, and he had to peel his eyes away to free himself of the spell. Closing his eyes, he let out a relaxed chuckle. “Yeah. I suppose you can.” He looked up at the moon one last time. “Let's get some rest.”