Quanzai Cone

On a brilliant autumn evening, the clouds in Yokohama surged across the sky like flames.

I stopped in front of the window and looked at the girl vaguely reflected in the glass.She was wearing a school uniform, a white long-sleeved top, a black knee-length pleated skirt, and the same black and white socks and small leather shoes. She looked at the face exactly like mine, full of confusion.

Strange why am I here.

A lingering sense of disobedience floated in my chest, and I looked down at the brass school badge pinned to my collar, but the writing on it had been worn away, leaving only fuzzy scratches.

The boys and girls who had just finished school walked in twos and threes, laughing and playing behind me. I clenched my schoolbag tightly and turned to watch them go away.

The sunset glow poured into the sea, and the dreamlike brilliance came with the wind, waking up my confused mind a little.Suddenly, I murmured in a stiff and weak voice: "It's time... to go home..."

Yes, no matter where you came from before or where you are going, you can never go wrong when you go home.If you don't understand something, just ask your parents, it's useless to just stay where you are and worry.

Having made up my mind, I took a step forward.

The bustling commercial street was left behind me, the street scene and crowds gradually disappeared, and I was the only one who stepped on the familiar and quiet path.There was no sound, but I was not at all afraid.

Walking steadily forward step by step, my thoughts slowly emptied, but I caught a glimpse of blackness before sinking completely into the blank.

It was the corner of the boy's black clothes fluttering.

Chasing him from behind, he rushed to my hand in an instant, as if he had gone through a long journey or a [-]-meter sprint for a temporary extra test, his breathing was short, and his black hair was matted in all directions.

Obviously I don't know him, but my emotions are violently shaken, I can't distinguish between joy and anger, but I just keep boiling and agitating, so that my chest is blocked.Seeing him trying to stay calm but showing hesitation, I couldn't help but slow down and talk to him.

The opening remark is a greeting about the weather, unknowingly asking about their respective destinations.

He didn't answer, but instead asked me, "Where are you going?"

I answered as a matter of course: "I have to go home quickly. Mom and Dad have been waiting for me for a long time."

Hearing this, the young man paused, and looked up at me with his lowered head, his kite-colored eyes seemed to be about to cry, like a child who was about to be discarded.

"Don't go back." He said an exaggerated suggestion, but because his voice trembled, it was more like a timid pleading.

I can already see the dense jujube trees in the yard, and a tree of red fruit is like a bloodstain, crumbling in the autumn wind. Hearing his words, I couldn't help being surprised, stunned and sad.

"Mom and Dad are waiting for me..." I hesitated to answer, walking more and more slowly, but still took a step forward.

"Don't go back," the young man was carrying the sunset on his back, the setting sun was like blood, sinking into his eyes, burning with tears, "...please."

His voice was so low, almost like the dying of flowers in late spring, the fluttering of mayflies out of water, that I had to pay attention to hear it clearly.

Shocked, I stopped in front of the courtyard.

The parents in the house were laughing and talking about something, when suddenly, the mother said: "Why hasn't Xunguang come back?"

Dad laughed and said, "I made fried shrimp and grilled eel that she likes tonight. If we don't come back, we will eat first and not leave them for her."

The smell in the restaurant and my father's teasing floated out of the open courtyard door. My hand was already on the door, and I only needed to push it open with a little force.

But the boy called me softly.

...Ah, forget it.

I lowered my hands in defeat, and slowly turned to look at him.

It doesn't matter if you come home later, Mom and Dad won't be angry.But this man...

Holding his outstretched hand, I rolled my eyes and smiled.

——If you leave him alone, you will always feel worried.

The severe pain invaded every inch of nerves, and even breathing became extravagant.I lay in the silence, my consciousness drifted lightly, and for a long while, I vaguely heard someone's voice.

Being drawn by the sound, the body finally felt something real.

Some kind of metal container is repeatedly trying to pour the bitter liquid into the mouth, but my mouth is closed tightly without my control, making the liquid overflow the corners of the lips in vain.After a while, the metal container was withdrawn, and a cold, soft object was attached to it.

I was in a daze, and after the teeth were pried open, I swallowed a few mouthfuls of bitter liquid with difficulty, and after a moment, I fell asleep again.

Upon regaining consciousness, the first thing that catches the eye is the low ceiling.

The old and gray concrete creations brought back the flood of memories of that morning after I was 15 years old. I almost thought I was still in the safe house, but when I looked carefully, this place was much cruder and narrower than the safe house. It looked like Some kind of bunker.

The metal camp bed can only accommodate one person lying flat, with a layer of combat uniforms on it. I don't feel the pain of the wound, I turn my head weakly, and see Zhijun sitting not far from the bed.

He should not have closed his eyes for a while, and he did not know where he went to fight hard. Even without the combat uniform outside, he could see a large amount of blood stains, which was shockingly dark under the light of the campfire.

I frowned lightly: "... Zhi..."

With a dry throat, he couldn't utter a sound, but Zhi Jun still looked up at me instantly.The shadow of the flame was swaying, I smiled at him and raised my hand slightly.

Zhijun stared at me for a while, then heaved a long sigh of relief, obediently walked to me and squatted down, holding my hand.

"Miss Guang." His voice was also hoarse.

Excessive blood loss made me tremble slightly, my mind was numb, and I retorted with a completely wrong focus: "My name is Gan Xunguang, not Gan Xun, Guang, Zhijun."

"There is no need to look for it anymore," Zhi Jun stared at me with downcast eyes, his cold fingertips resting on my forehead hair, like a butterfly resting, "Miss Guang."

It wasn't until he fell asleep lying on the side of the camp bed that I belatedly realized the meaning of these words.

The unopened face was leaning against my hand, and the closed eyelashes cast a slender shadow in the firelight, and I couldn't see the lingering coldness when I was awake.The fluffy black hair made him look younger than 15 years old, like a stray cat for a long time, finally willing to rest by my side for a while.

I put my knuckles against his cheeks that had recovered a little bit of warmth, and smiled quietly with my lips pursed.