The soul's tether to the body is quite weak. Evident by how the slightest undoing of a normal body function can make one pant for their lives. Whether a physical or mental disruption, the soul doesn't really have a choice on whether the body could be rehabilitated back to full health. A single mishap and its lights out.
But that doesn't mean it doesn't strive to stay in the living. No.
Throughout one's life they are bombarded with many things. Family, friends, love, hate, revenge, anger, pleasure… the list goes on. But point is, these things act liking binding strings that swirl around the soul and making it want more of the world. They tie it to the world. They give it expectation… something for tomorrow. Something to make the soul want to remain in the body.
And this has helped a lot. Even our boy Lozo. And in many other stories most have heard or even read, these things give the soul the will to fight the cold embrace of death and fight their hardest to come back to the warmth of a tomorrow.
Now all said and done, one question remains. The question escapes the mind but if you really thought about it would spark in yours too. As the soul leaves the body, as the last strands tethering it to the world become undone a spontaneous plane occurs. One that supports the undecided soul and paints the canvas for its current struggle.
The question to wonder is what that plane is. The plane holding a fading soul as it fights the soothing relief of nothingness and in search of this gods' forsaken world.
Well in this world, that plane is called…
The white world.
***
The dark was night. The dark was cold.
Lozo lay on his futon, head rested on his hands that served as a substitute for the pillow he did not have. His eyes drew imaginary objects on the dark ceiling, sometimes some protruding out and reaching out to him. He would shrug and push away the childish fear and drift back to his thoughts.
A lot weighed down on him. A lot from the past day and for his future. The beginning of his journey in a new family was near. What it meant… he did not know. For now, only questions paraded through his head.
One of the few was the piece of paper fluttering on his small drawer. It was held in place by the arm of his jacket that he had lazily thrown over the drawer when he first arrived. It was the family contract that Kisharu had given him. His words still stressed in his head.
"Everyone has selfish reasons. As you protect the family's interest so does the family."
The term selfish reasons felt like too much power. For example, who would stop him if he asked for a large sum of money in return for his services. Or just say he would not work and expected maximum returns for his time there. The possibilities go on but an answer never seemed to be in one of them.
He sighed, rolling his eyes to the garden adjacent to his room. The low waters flowed in glittering stream passing through the flowers of the garden in an enclosed loop. Quite the wonder how it worked but Lozo didn't get into its dissection.
The other thing on his mind carried a larger potion of his curiosity. 'Cat caller Covy' He remembered the name that had showed up on the TNT.
Just before they had left the Correspondents house, the conversation between the correspondent and little Covy had started the quarrel in his head right now.
'Your mother has gone to bring you some new pair of clothes. Just wait here.'
He had tried as much as he could to reject it but the mother's intent was more than clear. Over the day he had seen the fear in the Normals hearts. In the tears they shed, their fears became clear to him. The very idea of association with mysterious phenomena was to be shunned, let alone housing one. The association with Harmatia or anything to do with them is considered a blemish in the Normals world.
A blemish that stood out in the white and purity of the society.
So much so that one would easily abandon one of their own in order to remove their blemish.
As for the last thing was the girl he had being paired with, Karin. Other than her mesmerizing silky hair, her demeanor was quite confusing. At first, Lozo sensed a subtle sense of superiority in her. That she liked to take charge in situations and lead for others to follow.
That view took a slight turn after their encounter with Covy. Her pride set aside and overshadowed by something else. Compassion.
"I wonder where she is right now."
See after their arrival in the Harmatia sect of the village, they were welcomed by Mr Kisharu. Not with a smile or anything like that. More of a boat load of grief.
On seeing them Kisharu called Karin to the side.
"Karin…" His voice lingered as they looked at each other. Then suddenly Karin's face gloomed like they had just had a secret conversation and it was all bad news.
The two walked away, leaving Lozo to find his way back to the dormitory all by himself in the dark. Hours later and she was still not back from wherever she was.
… Lozo yawned.
His eyelids had grown heavy and keeping the open was cumbersome. He did not know why but his brain didn't body didn't want to give into his brain's will. He felt like there was something else important he had to think about but his brain was too tired to try and remember.
As he nodded of the thought finally came to his lips.
"Hinari… Wonder how she's doing?"
And with that, his eyes sealed.
***
There was a bright light in a distance. It was warm in its touch and blinding in its brilliance. Lozo turned away from the light but everywhere he looked the light rays always met his eyes with a sting. He rubbed them to sooth them but that didn't help that much. The sting would flare up and warm his eyeballs to a point they felt like they were burning.
Like this wasn't enough, a sudden munching sound echoed in his ears. It was the sound of endless and unsatiable nibbling. The nibbling came to a sudden stop and was replaced by some hopping. The hopping sound was soft and padded. It would continue for a few seconds before coming to a halt and once it did the nibbling continued. Only this time louder and more direct in his eyes.
In all his days Lozo had never liked a lot of things. But as he grew up, he had come to learn to live with them with an exception of five things.
As his eyes futtered open, he was welcomed by one of those five. A fluffy beast that harbored bloodlust none like any other. A wide-eyed killer with a blade on its back red to spatter the floor red. A long-eared barbarian ever aching to thrusts its dagger into someone.
As his eyes ached open… the exaggerated monster of his lingering childish imagination spawned.
Cropped in his vision the monster stood. A fluffy long-eared silver fur Bunny.