The Rescued Boy

Three days, seventy-two hours, four thousand three hundred and twenty minutes. Every moment, he felt as though he were trapped inside a body that did not belong to him, a strange existence completely severed from the past.

The conflict between the Earth Alliance and ZAFT, those two colossal powers, was like two giant continents colliding, while Onogoro Island, where he lived in Orb, had the misfortune of lying within the crushing zone of that violent impact.

The Orb government's desperate calls for civilians to evacuate over every channel still rang in his ears, but the warning had come too late. Or rather, the disaster had come too quickly.

Running, shouting, clutching his family's hands, and then... being swallowed by the torrent of battle.

"Ugh—"

His stomach churned, and liquid mixed with the sourness of bile surged up his throat.

That scarlet scene once again invaded his mind unbidden. It was not a hazy memory, but a scene as vivid as though it had happened yesterday.

The enormous explosion ruptured his eardrums, and the scorching blast wave hurled him to the ground.

He saw crimson flames soaring into the sky. Those flames seemed alive, greedily licking at the collapsed buildings and at the familiar figures at the edge of his vision. His father's shout, his mother's outstretched hand, and Mayu's pink phone falling to the ground... everything was swallowed by that merciless red.

The moment he thought of it, an uncontrollable physical revulsion welled up from the deepest part of his body.

He abruptly rose from the bedside and staggered toward the sink in the corner of the room. Leaning forward, he began to dry heave violently.

Yet there was nothing in his empty stomach to vomit, only spasms wracking his body and acidic fluid continually rising to burn his esophagus.