For being called the city of death, Shini city was terribly boring. Despite the name, Yuko was fairly confident this wasn't the afterlife. Sure, there was once a plague over two-hundred years ago that nearly wiped it out that justified the name, but right at this moment? It was too normal, and really, why would people be born as babies into the afterlife? If Yuko remembered correctly then your spiritual essence would just move on to the afterlife, not become an entirely new person.
People still needed to eat, too. Rice was grown in the outskirts of the city in large plantations, and there were multiple insect farms. Grub was the most common, as the easiest to farm and most filling option, but crickets were also common. There were more, but those were expensive and rare. Yuko couldn't remember the last time she had honey or fruit, grown in the rich gardens of the West District.
Like the plague also made clear, people still died, too. If this was the afterlife, then people definitely wouldn't die when they well… died. They wouldn't have bodies that could get sick by a plague or get the Bloat or crushed in a cave and die.
Yuko wondered often if maybe Shini wasn't meant to be the city of death at all. She remembered a story her great grandfather would tell sometimes of his own great grandmother, which was once again passed down, and whenever he told the story like she told him, Yuko remembered that she would use shi, rather than yon, as a way to refer to the number four. Great grandfather never thought much of it, but it was something that always stuck with her.
So if Yuko was right, then Shini city was actually four-two city. It made even less sense than death at first glance. Four-two what? As in forty-two? People? Maybe if you multiply it by hundred, at least when the city was founded. Buildings? That would be arbitrary. Years? Since or until when?
The only way that number would make sense would be if this was the forty-second city or something like that. Yuko hoped that was the case. That somewhere in the kegare oozing tunnels there were other cities out there. Other people that maybe didn't suck as much as the people here. That the world was so much bigger than this boring, miserable city.
It's not like people could just leave to find them. Thanks to the kegare, leaving the city was forbidden. You'd only get lost and never return, starving as you wallowed in the kegare, at least if you're lucky enough to not just get the Bloat and find your way back just to be put out of your misery.
If it wasn't for how horrific the Bloat was, Yuko would've snuck out ages ago. The possibility of seeing something new, or even of dying by the hands of some mysterious monster was more intriguing than the continued fight for survival she was in every day. City would probably be better off too, with one less delinquent eating precious food and using up water and air. Her seat in class would just be free for someone else to take rather than being empty but “reserved” most of the time, and the bandages and alcohol she needed for her injuries could go to some other sod who needed it.
Yuko sighed and let go of the rag she was pressing into her arm. At least the worst of the bleeding had stopped. The cut wasn't pretty, though; she was going to feel that for a while. Rummaging through her patchwork backpack, she retrieved one of her spare bandages.
Damn bastard had pulled out a knife in a fist fight. She was lucky he'd only nicked her arm before she'd managed to kick him in the groin and flee. All that effort for a few extra credits, wasted. She'd just wanted some salt and pepper too, to make the grub less bland. The thought of the same flavorless meals made her gag as she wiped the blood off. Then she wrapped it up tightly and tried not to think about it for the time being. The throbbing in her arm made it difficult, however.
Satisfied with her work regardless, Yuko started packing her things to go home and clean up. Ready to leave, she carefully poked her head out of her little alcove high up in the outer wall. It provided a nifty view of the East District of Shini, able to count every bulb in the ceiling and nearly every building, glued together in an almost brick-like layout, on the ground. When her feet hit the ground, the lights flickered.
The moment of complete darkness only lasted for a second, but Yuko was certain it wasn't her imagination. Sometimes the light would go out in a region when one of the bulbs broke, but Yuko couldn't remember if basically the entire city, as far as she could see anyway, had gone dark like that.
What was up with that? A quick look up confirmed it wasn’t one of the bulbs in the East District. It certainly couldn't have been a good omen, that was for sure. Yuko couldn't help but hope it wasn't an omen meant for her, at least. She already had enough on her plate.
The walk home was quiet. The streets of the East District were always pretty empty. Everyone knew that being out and about either meant you were looking for trouble or on the safest direct route to keep yourself out of trouble. It's not like East had a lot of real job opportunities outside of working the paddies or farms. The water basins were strictly off-limits for the peasants, despite how much of the district they occupied. As a result, most people that tried to keep themselves out of trouble only moved to leave and enter the district, not to mention most people would get their places near the edge with the intention of moving back out as soon as possible. Not that that plan often panned out. East had been growing like the slowest Bloat ever seen, swallowing more and more buildings and streets over the years. At least that's what grandma said.
Yuko knew she wasn't gonna be harassed, she'd found some fairly safe passages to help her get home from her little lair. Even if she got spotted, most people knew she had nothing worth taking, or could infer as much from just looking at her, or maybe they pitied her enough to let her go. Clearly less than 20 years old, still a child by almost everyone's standards, she really shouldn't be doing the things she was.
When she got home, Yuko had her hoodie up and head low. Finding her old man passed out on the couch made her relax, though, as well as roll her eyes. At least she wouldn't have to fight with him too. Him spotting her like this would've been bad. If she tried to stand up for herself, tell him about how he should stop wasting away so they'd be able to eat more than rice and grub, the yelling match could last for hours. Sometimes it felt like those shouting contests were the only thing he still had a fire for after the accident. She missed mom too. Did he not see that?
Not wanting to test fate by having him wake up right now, she scooped up a bowl of water from their reservoir and hid in her room.
She rashly retrieved her broken hand mirror, posing it on her makeshift desk before sitting down at it. If it weren't for her dad potentially seeing she'd been fighting again, she would've tossed the thing out ages ago. Good thing that fixing her choppy brown hair and wiping any gunk off her face did the trick. Just had to comb the knots out and get it all to face one side.
Taking out her bloody rag and cleaning it in the bowl, the dripping of the water had always been a calming sound to her. She closed her eyes to enjoy it. It certainly beat the neverending buzzing of the lights this side of the city. She started to wipe the black smudges off her cheeks to reveal her pale, striped but otherwise unblemished skin. No bruises revealed themselves. Good, her dad noticed them.
Once done cleaning her skin, her gaze lingered on her eyes. Lime green irises that almost glowed in the dark. The horizontal slits of her pupils narrowed to allow the vertical ones to focus on the mirror. At least, she remembered something vaguely like that from her classes, anyway. She remembered Mr. Satoru droning on about how their cross-shaped pupils evolved to filter light in such a way that they could see well both up close and far away regardless of how well lit the place is so long as it's not completely dark. Yuko often wondered what the point was to learning that sort of stuff. History, she understood, even some forms of math, and of course it was important to know how to speak and communicate. Biology was sometimes useful for tending to her injuries, but then other stuff was a complete waste.
Using whatever clean spots were left of her rag, Yuko unbandaged her arm to clean her cut again. Maybe she should go find Miss Shizumi for some clean bandages, but then she’d get one of those disappointed gazes and anything was better than that. This one would still do the job well enough.
The lights flickered again, only to stay out. Yuko rolled her eyes as she dug up her hand crank flashlight. She looked at the small clock by her bedside. Six-thirty. Too early for maintenance. Then she heard a loud, mechanical groan. It sent a shiver down her spine as she pushed herself towards the window. Opening it, she hopped onto the fire escape connecting her room and that of her opposing neighbors, and headed up towards the roof. She didn't quite have as good of a view as she did from her alcove, but the ceiling was dark as far as her eyes could see, as was all of East. It hadn't just been the East acting up. It didn't take long before her neighbors joined her on the roof. Flashlights flickered in the distance in the direction of the water tanks. That had to be the noise she heard.
Worried murmurs were the only noise Yuko could hear now. She missed the buzzing of the lamps.
It ended up taking twenty minutes before any lights started coming back on in the distance, and another thirty before East finally got power back. The light never went out in, presumably, the entire city like that. If the lights were going to go out for more than a minute or two, then those things we scheduled and made common knowledge well ahead of time.
The groaning of the tanks on the hand ended up taking several hours before it died down, or at least became less frequent. Yuko could still hear the occasional sound as she was trying to fall asleep, before the exhaustion took over anyway.
Something was wrong and everyone knew it, yet were powerless to do anything, in some ways quite literally. Yuko wasn't sure what to do either. Sure, Shini was boring and miserable, but this was not the kind of excitement she'd been hoping for. This was the bad kind of excitement, the kind that would make things worse without even any hope of getting better afterwards.
Yesterday, Yuko was considering skipping class the next day. Now that that day was actually there, though, the idea of having an excuse to leave East was quite welcome. As such, she decided to get ready for class, though quickly paused as she started getting changed and felt the pain in her arm. She needed some painkillers and something to clean her wound with. It was going to get infected at this rate. Sighing, she finished getting dressed, grabbed the few school utensils she had and shoved her multitool into her pocket. First she'd find Miss Shizumi, then class. She was gonna be late having to find the nurse, but it'd keep her busy at least.
Not wanting to get the attention of her father, Yuko opened the door to her room quietly in an attempt to sneak out. She prayed he was still asleep, but then again, if he'd slept through everything that happened yesterday and the occasional machinal rumble still didn't wake him up, she'd have reason to be concerned.
He was in the kitchen as she entered it to grab breakfast.
“Where are you off to?”
He didn't even turn to face her as he handed her a nutrient bar. Instead he stared rather blankly out the window, gaze stuck on their neighbor's window. Another groan could be heard outside.
She took the food, taking a bite immediately. The bland taste made it harder to swallow, but she forced it down.
“Class.”
“Hm? Good. Catch up on everything you missed, yeah? I don't want you home until curfew.”
Considering the state of their lives and how rarely they had normal conversations, Yuko sometimes forgot that her father didn't actively hate her. He always wanted her home on time, though. He didn't know the streets and pathways as well as she did, and didn't want her attracting trouble.
Yuko shrugged. “Sure? Anything else?”
“Just watch out, kiddo. The last time the machines failed, well. You know.”
Mom died.