light in the darkness

Perhaps things would have been different if Gonou could have remembered something about his parents, or about his sister; if he could remember anything before those long bitter years in the orphanage. If he could have remembered her as his sister.

Memory only goes back so far. He doesn't know how it was that he recognised her, but he did; his soul and body both knew her, both longed for her, and both lost themselves in her. He clung to her because she was the only thing he had, the only thing he wanted.

His childhood had been a long night without moon or stars. He hated the world, and he hated the nuns, and he hated the other children. He supposed that there might have been something which he cared for, some joy which he felt, but -- he couldn't remember it.

She was the light in his darkness. A lantern for his soul, a brightness to guide his footsteps, a fire to warm him in the night.

She was as bright as fireflies dancing in the evening shadows, and oh, but it was dark when she had left him.

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