Chapter 18 Oblivion
OBLIVION
FOUR MONTHS AGO
Kit walked into Rin’s bedroom, his heart heavy.
She was so beautiful lying there. The canopy draped around the soft, fluffy sheets made the whole scene appear soaked in a haze of surreality. Delicate and divine.
For just one moment, she didn’t know he was there, and he was able to watch her without her knowledge.
The twinge in his chest grew.
Pressure closed around him. How could he keep her safe forever?
Would he be able to?
Forever… was a long time. And she wasn’t guaranteed it; not in this life. At least they could try again next time. The thought was far from hopeful. Depressing. His only ray of light and saving grace, melodious and solemn, was death.
Her death—and his.
Even then, Kit and Rin were not guaranteed to meet in their next life.
He sighed, the weight of his uniform pressing against his shoulders. It suffocated him.
Sheets rustled as Rin turned on the bed, face lifted toward the thin strips of moonlight that pierced through the curtains.
Her hand curled under her chin as she blinked up at him. His boots were quiet on the carpet as he walked to her bedside, sitting slowly.
He stared at her, the lip of his dark cap casting a faint shadow above his brow, allowing his attention to narrow until she was all he saw.
Kit wanted her to ask him to stay, but it was such a selfish thing—she had a life beyond him. To her, he would forever remain an overprotective brotherly figure; though, the things he wished to do to her were far from brotherly.
"Are you sure you don’t need me to"—Kit shook his head—"to stay?"
Please, his Soul begged, ask me to stay.
"Go, Kit. Do what you have to do… When the time comes, and I might be called away because of duty, I’d want you to tell me to go, too."
He nodded. Right. They all had parts to play—and this would always be his.
As if sensing his unrest, her hand moved across the duvet, dragging lightly as her fingertips walked across the surface, until finally they brushed against his gloved hand.
He swallowed thickly as he turned his palm up, lacing their fingers together. He wanted to remove the glove. Burn it. Feel her warmth beneath his palm in truth.
The ceiling fan above stirred Rin’s white hair where it spilled over the pillows. The coolness chased away the summer heat of late August, the type that brought a sort of melancholy he would forever remember. Right when summer fell into fall.
Solar City was always reluctant to give in to the fall. Summer lingered far too long. And the glass shine of packed skyscrapers and stone buildings only made everything hotter, sharper.
At least here, in the lazy suburbs, there were trees and grass. The ceiling fan barely droned out the buzz of the cicadas beyond the walls of this home—his hell.
"Your medicine is on the counter," Kit said. "I refilled your prescription for you, just in case."
He knew she wouldn’t take the medicine. She only took what she had to. Never the myriad of pills that were prescribed to her by countless, faceless doctors. All beholden to the Blackfalls.
Kit was glad she made the choice. Because if she did try to take those pills, he would never allow it.
Neither would Lucien. They’d do whatever it took.
Flush them, replace them with placebos. But never let her swallow them down.
However, as if sensing something, Rin never took anything more than she had to.
"Thank you." Her hand twitched in his.
A lock of hair fell over her temples as her head shifted, and he reached forward, brushing it away. "I have to go," he said with reluctance.
The corners of Rin’s lips tipped down, and before Kit could really stop himself—he was always weak for her—he leaned over her. The medals on his uniform clinked softly; the shadow of his cap darkened her eyes. He hovered close. Her gaze dipped to his mouth.
Kit didn’t kiss her. He merely breathed her in, his exhales fluttering the hair at her temples. He kissed her brow.
Her lips parted. "Kit… I—"
Kit wanted to stay forever and hear every thought she’d ever think, every word she’d ever say.
"I love you," she said softly.
He sighed. A smile did not come easily. No, he had to force it onto his lips. He knew she didn’t love him like that, not as he loved her. The moment when he’d had a small taste of her lips had been a momentary lapse in judgment. Nothing more. She was clearly lonely, needed affection.
She hadn’t felt anything.
"I love you, Vesperin Vox."
Her name was etched into his Soul. Said with whispered breaths and softened eyes in their past life.
Merchants in the Stars. Until it had all gone terribly wrong.
Everything always seemed to go wrong. Could they not be happy?
Kit would plead to the Celestials for happiness if they could have it even once.
He forced his smile a bit wider, thumb brushing the back of her hand. Then, he stood. Her fingers slipped from his, and his empty hand clenched at his side.
She didn’t say a word as he walked to the door. He was weak.
He stopped there, turning back as he allowed himself one last look at her, where she was half-propped up, hands braced on the mattress. She looked one second away from getting up and coming to him, begging him to stay.
Kit knew he wanted her to ask, but if she actually did, would he relent?
He licked his lips, his mask faltering for just one breath, then forced the smile back onto his face.
He left without another look back.
Her bedroom door closed with a soft click. In the hall outside, he tugged out his phone from his pocket, sending a text:
Keep her safe, Lucien.
Lucien’s reply was instantaneous. Always.
The control board of the ship was lit with flashing buttons. The harness cut into Kit’s chest as he flicked them with trained precision. "Prepare for entry," he said calmly into the headset.
He pulled back on the thruster. Beyond the curved glass, fiery plasma flared, Stars speckled the void, and streaks of white tore past as Kit guided the ship.
A faint boom echoed as they crossed through the atmosphere, and the orange-purple horizon darkened with a green flash before the ship finally leveled out.
"Stabilizing." Kit flicked the buttons with deft, gloved hands.
The engines roared as gravity took hold, propelling the ship onward in a smooth, streamlined motion.
"Grav decompression engaging," he said into the headset.
"One, two… three." The transition was seamless.
"You can remove your belts now and walk freely. Welcome to space."
The headset crackled as the Hunters on board laughed. "Never gets old."
"No." Kit tapped a finger on the control board, watching the Stars and distant planets. "It doesn’t."
On Veltryss, he’d spent more time in the Stars than on the ground. He couldn’t quite say the same for Earth. He was tethered to the ground by Rin and the rigid duties and formalities of learning to pilot a ship. If Kit had it his way, he would never leave the Stars.
And he’d take Rin with him.
The darkness of space enveloped the ship. Cold and lifeless, but to Kit, it was like coming home.
Stars sparkled. Taunting. As if they knew things he would never be privy to.
The Hunters came up to the cockpit to look at the sights, emitting sounds of wonder. He smiled at them. They clapped him on the shoulder and returned to their spots. Idle conversation drifted through the headset. Kit chimed in on occasion, much more content to watch the universe.
A different beep through the headset made him perk up. He touched the button on the side. "Yes?"
The private line of communication was filled with static. The ship was large. A cargo hold below was filled with crates of supplies they were taking to Sibeth.
A voice came through. "The heat sensors are going haywire. How’s the temp up there?"
Kit checked the temperature gauge. "All clear. Problem?" His voice was curt.
A pause. "We’re watching it. Be alert."
"Copy," Kit said, then released the button on the headset. He turned slightly, staring at the Hunters behind him. They laughed and joked with each other.
Kit’s jaw clenched.
Minutes passed. His worry grew.
He tapped the headset. "Any news?" Static. "Hello? This is Blackfall. Check in."
Nothing.
He was trained for this.
A small warning light began to flash on the temperature gauge as the needle began to slowly and steadily tick upwards into the warning zone of yellow, instead of hovering in the green.
"Fuck," he cursed lowly.
Kit tried one last time to get in contact with below. It was utterly silent on the other end.
His hands flashed on the controls as he worked to level out the temperature gauge by slowing the ship’s pace, hoping to cool the engines. Sweat prickled on the back of his neck.
The needle rose. Inching into the orange.
"Hey, Blackfall?" one of the Hunters spoke through the headset. "All good up there? We’re sweating buckets."
No training sim could have prepared him for this. Keep calm. Handle it alone. The Hunters weren’t trained in this—they couldn’t help.
It was up to Kit.
This was why he was here.
He touched the headset, staring at the slowly rising needle. The thruster began to tremor slightly. "All good," he said. He released the button.
Something exploded below, and the whole ship jerked, jolting off course.
Kit’s hands slammed into the controls, saving him from being thrown against it. Yells broke free behind him.
Red warning lights flashed. He began to sweat in earnest, dripping from his hair, making his suit stick to his skin. He blinked through the burn of salted sweat in his eyes, unable to move his hands away from the control panel as he flicked through the buttons and carried out emergency procedures.
"Warning, warning," a monotone robotic voice blared in time with the red lights. "Oxygen valves hit. Preserve oxygen levels. Preservation mode commencing in five… four… three…"
The warning systems counted down.