Chapter 10 Metamorphoses

How am I supposed to live my life now?

Am I a murderer now?

Fear enveloped me, washing away my courage.

I fell to the floor.

Of course I was scared. I knew that revealing the secret would do a great deal of harm.

My father would turn his back on me like Grandma had before.

The country would send people to confirm the rumors, and then... then... then... I would, like in any work of the supernatural, become a guinea pig.

A creature that never saw the light of day, someone else's property.

But that still doesn't change what I did!

The most disgusting thing was that I was cold-blooded at the time.

I remember my recent determination and quick action....

Feeling disappointed in myself and bitter, I shouted with all my might.

"That junior is now dead, and I did it!" the words were filled with despair.

Vesta rolled up to me.

"Shinji, and you're good."

I, feeling disbelief, looked up at him. My gaze shuddered.

"You're... serious?"

He nodded.

"Like I said before, our whole life is a fight for survival."

Seeing my lost look, he turned to the white Bakugans lying there and continued...

"Look at them, haven't we been fighting them, trying to kill them?"

Even though I feel slightly dizzy from what I've recently done, I'm starting to get the meaning of his words. It's just funny.

"I mean, they're turning into a sphere..."

"That's here, but in my world...? What do you think?"

My pupils narrowed.

"No transformation?"

Thoth laughed.

"When I attacked the Gryphon's neck, in reality, it would have bled. When Raven attacked Saurus' skull would have been fractured, and with Juggernaut... the shell would have cracked, and he himself would have been hiding inside."

I was taken aback by his revelation. I knew the Bakugans were alive, but Vesta's words about their hunger for battle had dulled my guard. If you want it, get it, you asked for it, especially since the rest of the Bakugans say so when talking to Vesta. I had completely forgotten that this was not a game, but a simulation of a real battle, modified by the rules of this space.

I turned pale and began to shiver. Cold sweat soaked my heated back.

It turns out that this is not a cute childish and harmless game, but the very real training of terrifying death machines.

"N-but... why are you fighting then? I mean, here, survival isn't at stake anymore, right?", I grasped at the last straw.

"Boy... if you don't use your fangs and claws for their intended purpose, won't they get dull?"

"Claws and fangs for their intended purpose..." I muttered, but soon continued. "But there are those that fight 100 times a day too, it's not like you have to fight that often, right!" I was still hopeful.

"I can't explain that to you. I didn't used to want to fight all the time, but now I have that desire," he simply replied, apparently not intending to bother asking the source of that desire.

Checkmate.

No answer was also an answer.

It appeared that every game was already geared towards killing, with each Bakugan master taking the side of his monsters, and in return, those monsters fighting for him.

The point was that those monsters viewed the master the same way they viewed the enemy Bakugan - the enemy.

Of course, there were gate map restrictions and some other mystery that caused attacks outside of the gate map to not happen, but still, the point remained like this.

"Why are you telling me this now?" - I decided to inquire.

"Friend, I've seen what you're going through, I've seen it too. Your world is the same."

"Huh?"

"Weren't you afraid for being exposed?"

"T-that's... not that, I won't be killed," though I answered like that, for some reason I remembered grandma's scary glance that day.

It curled up, rolled to the side, stopped at a black spot and revealed itself.

"Yeah? Well, even so, why do you have to suffer these consequences? I see this as a rock in your garden, and not just any rock, but a rock."

"It's..."

I couldn't come up with an answer. And really... why should I suffer? Why should my whole life go down the drain because of some little brat?

This junior high school student, obviously, even if I was scared, would still complain to someone, or just start telling a story like "look, what a freak I saw today".

Even when he saw my flame, he didn't beg for mercy, swearing he wouldn't tell anyone.

But then, by that logic... am I right? So it was still necessary to have him... no... or rather, it was the only right option?

"So there was no other way?"

Vesta lifted his head up.

"You know, you could have left it 1 time, it would have hit, but as you say, it didn't kill. If there are, say, 5 more hits like that, still wouldn't kill?"

I wondered.

It was really starting to make sense. If you follow the same Bible and turn the other cheek to a slap on the cheek, knowing human cruelty, you could end up getting slapped to death that way.

And the reason...for such cruelty is unnecessary.

Ignorance is the main factor here, but even so... they won't want to listen to me. All my explanations will be passed over. No one cares about my suffering!

At the moment I thought of suffering, I felt a nagging pain in my hands. When I looked closely, I saw that they were very red and burned.

When people see me, they'll think the same as this kid: I'm evil! I must be destroyed by definition. Why? Because I'm not like them, and I'm a danger to them.

What the giant scolopendra monster was trying to convey to me was the principle of "eat or be eaten already."

In reality, what is right and wrong in life was only taught to me by teachers at school. Sure, there were some kids who wanted to impose their superiority on me, but what good was it to listen to those who ended up being my slaves?

The teachers treated their work too professionally, never really connecting with the students, so I heard little truly useful from them other than what would make me comfortable.

My father never gave me guidance, and my grandmother... she doesn't even want to see me.

And now someone who has only recently appeared to me is giving valuable advice, the kind that no one in my 13 years has ever given me.

My perspective on everything hasn't changed, but it's changed. Somewhere inside me, a predator must have been laughing quite a bit.

I embraced the idea of not suffering myself because of others, but making others suffer because of the intent to harm me.

If one were to watch me closely from the sidelines, they would notice that the vibrant green of the meadows had darkened in my eyes, now resembling murky lakes of poison.

"I understand, Vesta," I rose from my knees. "Thank you!"

Thoth wriggled a little.

"Come to your senses? That's great, I like you better that way!"

I smiled sadly. Of course, mentally I had already realized it was necessary, but the guilt, though dulled, wasn't completely gone.

Looking around, I saw that the gate cards were closed and the field of play like space was still holding because my card was activated.

Even if Akira wanted to get out of here, he wouldn't be able to without the card closing on my part.

And the space itself didn't close because the owner of the card that opened the fight had dropped it.

Next to me lay a rolled up bakugan of Ventus Bee. I, as the winner, should have gotten a Bakugan in my hand, but those earlier just quietly and slowly went down.

There were 2 and 1 Chaos bakugans lying off to the side nearby, at different distances.

There were also 5 cards. 1 in those 2 Chaos bakugans that fell out when Akira escaped, and 4 were on the black spot.

I quickly collected all my Bakugans, put them in my pocket, and then picked up the trophies.

Following the principle of 'no body, no case', I wasn't afraid of an investigation. It was too mystical a case.

Just as I raised the card, wanting to close the space, it hit me.

I could move away from here and, say, find myself not 3 meters away from the crime, but about 400 meters away.

One thing - walls. I don't want to be in a wall on the way out.

Then... since I'm in a park, and a long one at that, it won't be a problem if I go forward 200 meters.

Done and done.

I closed the battlefield and found myself in the real world.

Lucky or not, I found myself in the center of a bed of violets. Well, that's okay, as long as there's no people around.

After the power surge, the spot on the sleeves of my sweatshirt was somewhat... no, not somewhat, it was completely burned, and now I could call it a white t-shirt with black jagged edges on the sleeves of slightly different lengths.

I headed home.

"Vesta, and my flame... how hot was it?"

"Shinji, I don't know, it's not like you burned me. But I think it's pretty powerful."

...

That's how I got home, chatting with Vesta, and a day later some Shuji and Nene started putting up missing person posters in the streets...