ECHOES OF VICTORY

Silence draped around him like a heavy cloak, settling in the aftermath of the fierce contest. His eyes, once a steely blue, softened back to their initial amber hue, reflecting a mixture of exhaustion and bewilderment.

The Kaiju lay sprawled, his body drenched in sweat, each labored breath a testament to the intensity of the battle just fought. Yet, within him, a tempestuous turmoil persisted, refusing to yield despite his weariness.

Then came the triumphant cry, shattering the stillness that had descended, affirming the reality he had moments ago deemed improbable.

His mouth agape in silent disbelief, his gaze shifted to the scoreboard. There, in bold numbers, lay the proof of his pivotal role in securing victory for his team.

For the first time in years, a spark of hope and excitement flickered within his spirit.

Struggling to rise, he clutched at his sides, sweat trickling down his face. His vision blurred momentarily, the world narrowing as he fought to maintain his balance.

Unfamiliar thoughts raced through his mind, each one a puzzle piece of the larger picture.

What just transpired? How had he achieved such a feat? 

****

Settling onto a bench, he was engulfed by a whirlwind of questions, each detail magnified in his mind as he grappled with the reality of his accomplishment. 

A throbbing headache pulsed behind his eyes, a familiar sensation accompanied by fleeting glimpses of a memory. And then, as if a puzzle piece fell into place, understanding dawned.

Those sensations were all too familiar.

It had happened again, he realized. Perhaps, for the first time, it had occurred precisely when he needed that extra bit of help.

Orenji approached the boy in the yellow hoodie with a confident stride.

"Alright!" He exclaimed, settling down beside him. "You don't seem like such a klutz anymore."

"A klutz? I was never one of those," the boy protested, his eyes searching for validation but finding none. "I may or may not have been graceful, but I got the job done, didn't I?" He added, gesturing for emphasis.

"I still can't read hand signs, remember?" Orenji reminded him.

Oh.

Right.

Seeing his colleague's pensive and dispirited expression, Orenji sighed.

"But let's agree to disagree—you were a goof," he said, a hint of playful finality in his voice.

"What? All right, okay, fine." He threw up his hands in mock surrender, a half smile playing on his lips. "Maybe I was a goof. But I'm a pro now, right?"

"Okay? Sure?" Orenji replied, looking at him with a puzzled expression. "You up for another?"

"You mean, like, round two?" 

Startled by the idea, he raised two fingers in confirmation.

"Thank you, but I'll have to pass on that. I need to be on my way now, you see." He conveyed in finger-speak, his attention fixated on the shoelace he tied with remarkable speed. As soon as he finished, he stood up from the bench, ready to depart.

He bounced on his feet slightly, stretching his body. Finally, he could catch a breather! Unlike the skates that proved tight and restrictive, his shoes offered a welcome sense of relief he'd long missed.

"You're leaving now? Oh, come on, just one game," Orenji urged, his tone filled with playful insistence.

"Hmm, tempting," he signed, touching his chin in mock contemplation, "but it's a no for me."

"All right, then. I'll come with you," Orenji replied after a moment of silence.

The Kaiju paused, seemingly taken aback by the situation.

"Hope you don't mind. I need to be somewhere too." He said, his voice casual yet urgent. As he swiftly removed his skates, he glanced up with a sudden realization. "Oh, that reminds me—I never got your name," he added, a charming smile spreading across his face. "I'm Orenji. What's yours?" 

This took him by surprise again. After a brief pause, he collected himself, realizing he had never expected anyone to care enough to ask his name. To him, the hoodie he wore was a cloak of invisibility, shielding him from the world's notice.

"Dude, it's a simple, straightforward question," Orenji prompted, his broad smile radiating warmth.

Answering could create complications later, but he dismissed the concern with a shrug. Sharing his name felt inconsequential, almost trivial, didn't it?

Glancing around hurriedly, he darted off for a moment and returned with an alphabet chart in hand. Orenji inquired about its origin, but the Kaiju remained silent, his intense focus on the grid unwavering as he meticulously searched for the letter 'K'.

He hunted with his finger across the different squares, none feeling quite right. Finally, his finger landed on a square bearing the letter 'I'.

"So K-I--?" Orenji paused, but before the Kaiju could respond, he continued. "That's your name?"

The memory of his own name echoed faintly in his mind, elusive yet familiar.

"K-I?" He shook his head, knowing there was more to uncover. He scoured the chart, eyes narrowing as he zeroed in on the letter 'E' and pointed decisively.

His gaze swept over the remaining choices until it landed on 'L'. With a purposeful slide of his finger, he completed the sequence.

"K-I-E-L?" He ventured.

The Kaiju rubbed his eyes thoughtfully.

"So, Kiel?"

A nod confirmed it.

"That's an unusual name, but alright. Nice to meet you, Kiel," Orenji replied, extending his hand. They shook firmly, sealing their introduction with a confident grip.

****

The gentle breeze carried the nostalgic melody of old memories. The glowing sun, a crisp circle of light, bathed the sky in golden hues as it slowly dipped below the horizon, crafting a breathtakingly stunning view.

The sunset held an irresistible allure for the young Kaiju. Its rare, breathtaking beauty made him feel at home, as if everything would be alright.

No matter his struggles, this time of day always granted him;

The warmth he longed for,

The colors he missed,

The hope he lost,

And the faith he needed.

"Kiel... Kiel," he repeated slowly, savoring each syllable. "I like that name," he said with a friendly smile. "It sounds solid, like a rock—immovable." After a moment's pause, he asked, "So, Kiel, what brings you here?"

Kiel stared at him, puzzled by the unexpected inquiry.

"I mean, you mentioned you're not from around here, right? So, where exactly do you hail from? What brings you all the way here?" He inquired, curiosity lacing his words as he leaned in attentively.

Kiel delved into his memories, recalling the countless times he had relied on deception, honing it into a fine art.

"Um, well," he began hesitantly, searching for the right words and proper placement, "I'm not exactly sure yet. Searching for something, I suppose." He trailed off, shaking his head moments later. Reluctant to share personal details, he remained wary of others and their motives.

His mind swirled in a kaleidoscope of memories, vividly replaying the exhilarating clarity of his recent triumph—the winning goal.

How had he pulled it off again...?

The sudden cascade of despair on his opponents' faces haunted him. Had he truly caused such emotional turmoil? He had single-handedly crushed their chances, confronting the team of six.

And the rush of triumph was nothing short of euphoric.

The boys pressed on in silence, weaving through the bustling crowd of passersby. Stonehaven, a beacon of modernity, loomed large before them, pulsing with life amidst its labyrinthine streets. Like the intricate chambers of a heart, its narrow, winding alleys intertwined, forming a complex network.

And its people were its lifeblood.

The landscape unfolded around them, rolling hills adorned with deciduous trees casting dappled shadows over meticulously maintained lawns.

Kiel stole glances at the bustling crowd around him as he walked. Everywhere, people strolled, chatting and laughing as if their burdens were mere whispers in the wind. He envied their carefree demeanor, wishing he could trade places with them. If only they understood the freedom they possessed, the privilege of wandering aimlessly.

Moving forward on his uncertain journey, Kiel appeared free to the world, yet an inner turmoil whispered otherwise.

Released from his metaphorical cage yet shackled by unseen constraints, Kiel grappled with the relentless fate of being a Kaiju—a label that marked him a monstrous outcast in human society. Forced into a constant masquerade, he navigated a world where survival demanded sacrifice and anonymity.

This was not the life he had envisioned. None would willingly endure such isolation and stigma. Yet, life often hurled obstacles like jagged rocks, giving only two choices; surrender in defeat or confront each challenge head-on, absorbing the pain with resilience. For Kiel, surviving meant embracing the unyielding struggle, facing it with every ounce of strength he possessed.

To fit in, Kiel endured every trial, feeling the ache of each stone hurled his way.

He had been fortunate with the officers during the match, but he sensed that luck wouldn't favor him again. He understood firsthand that luck is fleeting—it ebbs and flows, inevitable in its departure. It was a truth as old as time, unyielding and beyond anyone's control.

"You know, powers, elemental manipulation, hidden techniques—those are the currency around here," Orenji remarked, shattering the lingering silence. "My mom was adamant about me attending Claive Academy, despite my lack of innate abilities."

A wave of embarrassment crashed over the Kaiju, marking a rare moment of genuine concern that his social interaction might stumble, compounded by the fear of being misunderstood. He longed to effortlessly voice the thoughts that eluded him due to his speech impairment.

Instead, the Kaiju could only offer a blank stare in response. Soon, Kiel realized he had little to share or say back. He remained silent, shaped by a lifetime of rejection and persecution that bred deep distrust for others. The fear of being confined once more amplified his hesitation, hardly a conducive beginning for any interaction.

Orenji pressed on, his voice heavy with emotion. "Do you know what it's like to be seen as different, to endure constant criticism and judgment just because you lack a certain trait others possess? That feeling sticks with you. Until one day, you feel compelled to prove, not just to others but to yourself, that you can belong, that you can make a meaningful impact. That's why I play Photonball," he admitted softly. "It distracts me. It reminds me of my worth, even without powers. I just want to feel valuable. Sometimes, I worry I'm not doing enough."

Kiel's throat tightened, his Adam's apple seeming to catch as he struggled to swallow. Anxiety prickled his skin, leaving him slick with cold sweat, his body instinctively bracing for danger. Clad in a blue shirt, black trousers, and shoes, he watched the police officers approach, their footsteps echoing ominously on the ancient stone bridge he crossed himself.

Suddenly, Kiel's mind flashed back to the dream, fear slicing through him like a knife through butter. He desperately wished things had turned out differently. Who were these people targeting his life? What had he done to provoke such hostility? He scoured his memory for anyone on whose toes he might have stepped but none came to mind.

The chime of a passing bicycle snapped him back to reality. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets and slouched, trying to blend into the background, his gaze locked on the ground.

He held his stance until the officers passed by, completely oblivious.

"I probably shouldn't burden you with my problems," Orenji continued softly. "You likely wouldn't understand." He trailed off with the assumption Kiel wasn't listening.

He was mistaken.

Kiel kept his silence, turning away with a thoughtful expression. Inside, he silently urged. Trust me, his eyes avoiding contact. You'd be surprised how much I comprehend.

"Sorry," he gestured after, a gesture laden with regret.

"What? Sorry?" Orenji chuckled, his tone playful. "Oh, come on, you're just saying that because that's what everyone says, right?"

The Kaiju nodded in agreement, a subtle smile playing on his lips.

Orenji followed with an exasperated sigh moments later. "Yeah, I figured."

He shifted his gaze to Orenji, earnestness coloring his expression. "I do mean it though. You know?"

Orenji comprehended the gesture perfectly. Turning slightly, a soft smile adorned the boy's lips.

"You're quite the amenable one, aren't you? Made a fair share of questionable decisions, I gather," he remarked with a chuckle.

Kiel lingered in silence for what felt like an eternity after that question. A fleeting, troubled expression briefly crossed his face and vanished just as swiftly. It didn't surprise him; after all, it was the kind of question he often pondered himself.

"I try not to dwell on it," he finally admitted.

But he knew it was a feeble attempt to evade a deeper truth.

Caught between the ceaseless pursuit of armed containment units and the relentless struggle against personality takeovers, it consumed his thoughts inescapably. With no real options to choose from, he knew an elusive Foundation had marked him for elimination but why?

Then, a self-critical thought crossed his mind; What on earth am I doing, standing here alongside a human? I should be in hiding, shouldn't I?

His movements were devoid of any trace of amusement or spontaneity, resembling the calculated precision of a machine. Every action seemed meticulously planned, a methodical dance choreographed to evade a looming, unfathomable fate.

As he continued on this path of mechanical obedience, the weight of his predicament bore down on him like an impending storm. He felt the walls closing in, his world narrowing to a desperate struggle against forces unseen.

And so, with the shadows lengthening around him, Kiel pressed forward, a figure caught between the ruthless pursuit of the unknown and the haunting echoes of unanswered questions.