Chapter Text
It was dark. It was dark and so incredibly loud. He didn’t know where he was. All he knew was that he wanted out. He couldn’t see anything, nor could he feel exactly what it was that he was surrounded by, but he could hear, he could hear some kind of rails growling, scraping, touching another surface creating a sound that he was sure could make his ears bleed would he listen to it for longer.
He tried feeling around him, trying to localize and maybe understand what was happening. He had no idea. But he wasn’t scared, or so he tried to convince himself. He had to stay calm, that’s what he had been taught, he just couldn’t remember by who, his memory fogged by some unknown endless void.
Touching towards his bottom left, not wanting to try and feel the surface of what was surrounding him, he could sense a cylindrical object near him, probably a wooden barrel if the texture alone could tell him that, and it wasn’t the only one, on all sides he could find some of those either covered by some kind of cloth or void of it.
The noise started getting louder, and louder and even more so that he was forced to cover his ears with his hands as hard as he could, but still not enough to placate the pain that would for sure make his ears feel numb later, if there even was a later for him.
He didn’t really have any hope left at this point.
It was at that moment that he could feel his vision clear just the tiniest bit, and little by little his ears didn’t feel like exploding anymore. But as soon as he looked up on instinct he wished they were, so he wouldn’t have had to see what was probably going to be his impending doom.
A ceiling (or a pavement? He had no idea which way he was going) was right on top of him, and the box he was in was getting closer to it at an alarming speed. With what little sense he still had to him, head still clogged by the pain that had yet to fade away completely, he tried opening the barrels to try and find something to alleviate what was going to be a horrible crash. But none of them would budge.
This is it, he thought reluctantly, is this really how I’ll leave this world?
He tried covering what he could of his body with his arms to try and at least make his death a little less painful than it was bound to be. He shut his eyes tightly and wished for a sense of comfort he wouldn’t, couldn’t, receive.
He heard a loud noise. Weird, was the first thought that came to his mind, he was sure that he heard a loud sound, surely he couldn’t have imagined it, but he was still conscious and fully safe for all he knew. He tried slowly opening his eyes, still closed from what he thought was going to be his end. As soon as he did so he found himself forced to shut them again, as an astounding amount of light hit his face, and more precisely his eyes, like he was directly looking into the sun (turns out he, in fact, was).
While still trying to open his eyes, now even more slowly to try and alleviate what was going to be a hit to his nerves, he could faintly hear voices coming from over his head, too muffled to understand what they were saying but clear enough to understand that they were speaking his language.
Having finally managed to crook his eyes open he slowly looked up, what he surely hadn’t expected to see were faces upon faces of people looking down on him, talking amongst one another, whispers could be heard being passed by them. One of the people reached over the cover of the box, which he just now noticed was made of metal bars. A handle turned over and then up, and he was finally free. A fresh rush of clean air filled his lungs as he sighed with relief, thankful to have finally left that claustrophobic nightmare.
He reached for the top of the box, now seemingly slightly bigger than how he thought it was when he was being crushed between its walls. Someone offered him a hand to make his way out easier, he courtly refused, still oblivious to who those people were. He had to be cautions, wary even, he had no idea who these people were —he got out of the box— what intentions they had —he brushed his clothes as if to take off dust— he didn’t even know where he was—
—“Hey little guy, welcome home!” What the fuck did this guy just call him? He was this close to snapping at the dude because honestly who the hell did he think he was? But he knew better than that. He had to keep his composure, he couldn’t rush things and he desperately needed answers. He took a deep breath and looked the guy in the eyes (goddamn it he had to look up).
Though that wasn’t the only striking thing about him; he had an objectively handsome face, framed by round glasses, long blond hair going down his shoulders, tied together to form a ponytail. He was dressed rather badly, or so he thought at first glance, since everyone had that kind of attire, he noticed. Maybe in a place like this they couldn't afford the time for luxury, not even clean clothes. Abandoning these useless thoughts behind, (he already didn’t like the guy, he had no intention of thinking about him more than necessary) he got back to the problem at hand.
“What the hell do you mean ‘home’? And don’t call me that,” He said all in one breath, nervous as to what the answer was going to be.
“‘Home’, is this, of course—“ the guy looked around and swivelled on the spot, neck slowly twisting to see the apparent glory that was the place, to emphasize what it was that he was talking about “—the Glade.” He looked bitter while saying those words, glancing down he saw the person's fists clench and his eyes twitch, still he made no comment on it. “Also, if I can’t call you ‘little guy’, what do you reckon I should address you with?” He had an all knowing smile on his face, arrogant even, but he wouldn’t give those people the satisfaction of a reaction.
“By my name, obviously. I’m—“ he abruptly stopped, his voice and so his speech coming to a halt, he felt his breath hitch, the earlier refreshing air was no longer reaching his throat. He felt numb.
He didn’t know. He had no idea what his name was.
His first instinct, all reason having now left him completely, was to lash out at the guy in front of him. “What the fuck did you people do to me?! Why can’t I remember my own damn name huh!?” He had more to say, more to scream about, but the man (boy? He did kind of look his age) put his hands on his shoulders and started speaking again, this time in a calming manner, looking down at him almost sympathetically.
“First of all, my name is Kunikida. Secondly, it’s normal, it happened to all of us. When you get sent into the Glade you cannot remember anything about your own person, little by little things will start coming back to you, your name being the first thing.” He looked him in the eyes and giggled, probably understanding the frustration, “No worries, in a day or two I’m sure we’ll be able to stop calling you little guy!” He wanted to ease the tension maybe, but that just created even more frustration in him.
He had more questions to ask, more things he needed answers to. But he was quickly shoved by some of the other guys surrounding him towards the middle of the so-called Glade. Just great.
He found himself in front of a man this time, an actual one. He looked older than the people from earlier, the atmosphere that surrounded the old man (or was it just the grey hair?) made him want to give him respect, unexpectedly enough. Though he still was rather dirty, his long light grey hair didn’t give that impression, he actually looked very presentable, compared to the others. He stood tall (even taller than Kunikida, What the hell were these people eating?!) and looked down to start talking.
“I’m Fukuzawa,” he started, “I’m pleased to make the acquaintance of our newest arrival. I’m sure you must be confused” —he started walking toward what looked like a treehouse— “and must have lots of questions. Sadly, I won’t have enough time to explain everything to you, but I’ll try to clear up your confusion.”
He didn’t respond, just gave a slight nod with his head, he liked this guy already. He followed him inside the bottom of the treehouse, then started making his way up right after the man. They reached the top and sat down on the wooden floor, with their legs hanging from the ledge and oh.
He hadn’t even tried looking around when he got out of the box, too caught up in the moment to try and be as rational as he knew he was. He was just now really seeing where the hell he was.
A big green space, filled with trees, wooden houses, farms and people, and surrounded by goddamn walls. Screw respect.
“Hey so what the actual fuck are those things?—” He didn’t even have the chance to finish his thought before Fukuzawa was already giving him an answer.
“The Walls.“ He sighed harshly, the weight he carried on his shoulders was evident, though he was clueless of what it could be. “These Walls are what keep us here, they keep us safe. You have to listen to what I have to say very carefully, or this won’t end well for anybody here.” His tone was serious, different from the one he used when introducing himself, this man meant what he was saying.
He cleared his throat and continued speaking, “There are three rules that have kept us all alive until now, and you must follow them, we make no exceptions.” He started listing the rules, now making eye contact, probably to make his point come across better. “First, you have to give respect to everybody if you want the peaceful atmosphere we have created to last, I have no intention of dealing with troublemakers—“ He put a finger up “—Secondly, you must work to stay here, everyone puts in their fair share of work, if we want to survive everybody has to show for it—“ He put another finger up, his look becoming now stern, “—And lastly, you will never, never, cross those Walls. It is prohibited and there will be consequences.” He put the last finger up. He too was starting to get up when he was stopped by a (really to be expected) question.
“Why? What is it that lies behind those Walls that makes you all so afraid?” The question was genuine but serious nonetheless. He had to know certain things if he was going to be stuck in here for who knows how long, he wouldn't entertain them without being paid the same respect they wished to receive.
Fukuzawa looked at him for a while, seconds that became endless because of the tension now between them, “This discussion is over, I apologize, but I have matters to attend to, I’m sure Kenji-kun will answer any other questions you might have. See you soon, young man.” He wasted no time getting down the treehouse, giving him time to organize his thoughts before also going down the treehouse to find this Kenji guy.
In the end finding Kenji turned out to be way harder than he thought it’d be, not because the people were a little wary when giving him directions or because he wasn’t capable of orienting himself through the Glade (hell he was damn good with directions), but because Kenji was a little kid, a very kind one at that, apparently. He was told by some random dude giving him directions that Kenji was one to always go around the Glade and lend a hand to whoever needed it.
But as difficult as it had been to localize the place where this kid currently was, it was fairly easy to spot him once he heard him. Really loud kid. Great.
He heard his voice coming from what seemed to be a small farm, all types of vegetables could be seen together with tons of people working on them. He slowly got closer, trying to only get the attention of the kid rather than all the others surrounding him. Looking around a bit, now being on the floor and thus seeing the place head on, he noticed how organized everything was. Everyone seemed to be careless with their attitude but careful when regarding their jobs, seems like Fukuzawa really wasn’t joking.
The treehouse he'd just left was right in the centre of the Glade, facing the box he'd previously come from. All around the structure smaller ones had been built, the treehouse seemed to be some kind of headquarters (he could remember seeing stairs going underground). On the top left he could see some kind of dormitory, a structure made entirely of wood (like the rest of the structures here) and composed of at least three floors, he guessed; on the top right there was something akin to a forest, obviously smaller than how one was supposed to be (he supposed, at least, he wasn’t sure if what his memory was telling him was actually how things were before); in that same forest he saw some makeshift beds on both the grass and the trees. Weird. He didn’t dwell on that though, and brought his attention back to where he was actually supposed to go.
The farms, stationed on the bottom right of the Glade, faced some kind of big field on the bottom left, composed of high grass and what seemed to be hay.
“Hey kid!” He tried to shout loudly enough to be heard but also quietly so as to not get any more attention on him than needed. The kid he supposed was Kenji turned to look at him and his freckled face downright shone when he saw him, already smiling and waving in his direction.
As he made his way closer to the kid he could see how his apparent bubbly personality was presented also on his outer person. He was rather short —he guessed he really was young then— and had short blond hair that framed his face adorned with what he thought was a farmer’s hat on his head. His clothes were just like those of the others, if not even worse, given he was actively doing manual work in the dirt.
He was now face to face with said kid, he looked sweet, had a kind glee to his eyes that gave him a slight pain to the head and for a moment he felt like fainting. He tried holding himself up by putting his hands on top of his knees, while a blurred face was showing itself inside his mind, unwanted and so incredibly painful for a reason he had probably forgotten. He held his breath and started breathing in and out, just how he had been taught, only then did he realize that Kenji had been talking to him, he had his gloved hand on his shoulder, giving him stability (it was probably thanks to him that he had yet to meet the ground face first).
“Are you okay mister?” Kenji asked rather worriedly, if he was trying to keep his composure he really wasn’t great at it.
“Yeah. Yeah I’m fine no worries. Pay that no mind, please.” He wanted to sound sure, certain of what he was saying even while knowing that wasn’t the case, only if to not worry the kid even more, he already appreciated his presence.
He watched as Kenji gave him a reassuring smile and got back to work while still staying close to him, very aware, by this point, of the questions he was about to be asked.
“So! What questions did you want to ask that Fukuzawa-san couldn’t answer already?” He said with a joy in his voice that he had yet to see in anyone else’s faces here, obviously trying to ease the tension previously (unwillingly) created.
“Well first of all I’d like to know what the—“ He stopped himself abruptly, just now remembering that he was talking to a kid, “—heck even is this place? And how old are you, also.” He was fairly curious about that, everyone apart from him and Fukuzawa looked close to his age, and he didn’t enjoy the thought of someone so young being stuck in a place like this. Familiar. Weird.
“Oh! Well I’m sure Fukuzawa-san already said that this is the Glade, but more specifically it’s a place that was created by them. We don’t know who they are, but they’re responsible for us being here. They’re also the ones who bring new people and supplies here monthly!” He quickly turned around and pointed at the box (that was sure to give him nightmares, probably, at least still better than the usual void, tch.) ”That's how new people and supplies get here, I’m sure everyone has already taken everything from inside, it closes real quickly, ehe!” The boy laughed at what he just said, thinking of it as a funny joke, before remembering he was asked two questions, “Oh and I'm thirteen! Before you came, I was the new one here, it’s a bit rough at first, getting used to everything and all—“ He looked at the ground for a second, a lingering emotion showing on his face for just a fragment before he could actually be able to entertain it, he sighed and looked up again, “—but I’m sure you’ll do just fine! You look real tough, mister!” Kenji smiled kindly at him while getting back to work.
Them? Who the hell was he talking about? Goddamn it this whole situation was getting more complicated by the second and he was enjoying none of it. He needed answers but apparently he could not get them from anyone if not himself. Guess I’ll just have to take matters into my own hands, huh.
His questions having been fairly answered (apart from the ones he knew he wouldn’t be given one) he got up to move and go to sleep, probably not in the dormitory as he was still not used to the place, since clearly the sun was about to set. When all of a sudden from the corner of his eye he saw the Door of the Glade’s Walls (one of the four positioned in each side of the cubic form of the Glade, he just noticed), more specifically, the people coming out of it.
Now that was weird as hell.
He turned quickly toward Kenji again, “Hey kid sorry, I was of the impression that nobody was allowed to go past these Walls? Consequences and all?” He knew he sounded eager for an answer, and he was, but no way was he going to let some old man tell him he couldn’t go past those Walls just to see right after that someone else got back from inside them. Hell no.
“These are the Runners! They’re allowed to go into the Maze because they keep track of the roads, it’s their job!” The kid beamed.
“Sorry what?”
“Huh?”
“Did you just say Maze?”
Eyes widening. Fuck.