Amber
An inhuman sob was wrenched free from her lips.
She couldn't breathe, wouldn't allow herself the necessary oxygen to her already singed lungs. The insides of her were raw and bloody, smeared with wet, slimy tears. And her heart pounded, thundering so loud that she was almost deaf to the world.
And all Amber had was the soundtrack of the fire crackling with the phantom screams of her loved ones. She could almost hear them in the roar of the flames—her beloved Oliver, wailing and begging for mercy. Her baby, the most precious piece of her life—bawling in pain. The tears that blurred her vision stung in her nose, then her throat. She was numbed to the quivering of her body.
They needed her, they needed her.
It's all your fucking fault.
Her eyes were wide, wider as she stared at her own hands. The fire was burning in her head. It hissed gorged flames that were red, yellow, and black. The fire was angry. And it whispered in her ears, her own personal hell. She was trembling so hard she couldn't stop. A ragged first breath after seconds of none was like salt to her wounds. It hurt, tasted worthless, tasted like what her child needed in that fire.
She had what they didn't have—this bountiful oxygen.
It's all your fucking fault.
Sieon knelt before her, hands around her cheek, his lips moved. But she could not hear him, she couldn't see him. And her mind was spinning, her body breathless. Her lungs begging for air that she would not give. There was destruction, there was chaos. There was only hell in this unforgiving world. The tears sprung freely down her cheek and meandered down her neck. They were warm, dripping to her lips, soggy in her nose.
He ran back in for you.
She'd been kicking and screaming when Sieon had pulled her free. He'd dragged her so far from the destruction he'd been running, bare feet to asphalt—his shoes were gone, they would only pinch at his toes. The soles of his feet were bloody. But the burst of rage had begun from within, and she'd lashed at him, angry, hissing mad. She'd been delirious, rambling with insanity.
"TAKE ME BACK!" She'd screamed. "TAKE ME BACK! I NEED TO SAVE THEM—"
The fire had flowed like a river, taken everything—drank on air and spat its poison. There was nothing she could have done behind that wall of fire. She'd only burn her hands, burn her skin, trying to get through the flames.
She knew that, but her mind refused to cooperate with her heart. It only wanted to try.
"It's not your fault," Casper's hands were cold on her cheeks. And she blinked, her eyes finding his. They were bloodshot, with soot on his cheek, and eyeshadow smeared over rubbed lids. They were watery from the ashes, watery from the heat, watery from the loss. They burned blue. "It's not your fault," he repeated voice hoarser, lips trembling.
But she didn't believe him. It was difficult to when he'd gone back for her. When he was there only for her.
And this time she raised her head and looked. Sieon with his arms raised for the paramedics—his flesh burnt from his attempts to save her. JieMi and MinJae sobbing against one another, arms on each other. Hikaru, shaking by their side. And then to Casper and Ezra who knelt before her, worry in their brow. Their eyes were red, and there were tears.
They worried for her.
"God, if you hadn't left that room," Ezra mumbled, throat thick. "If you hadn't left the stage and stood in the crowd. You'd be—"
He didn't need to continue, his hands around her wrist. The ghost of the word hung in the air. But it didn't matter if she survived or not, their family was still in there, still fighting for their lives. Her Oliver, her sunny, beautiful soulmate. And her baby.
Her baby.
Her soul bond pulsed, burned within her chest, tearing at her heart. It was agony, and her eyes were back on the wreckage, on the fire. Her lids closed and begged for sleep. It'd take her to him, she knew it would. And she'd return to that fire.
She'd find herself in his body, and she'd try. She'd try for them. It didn't matter if he was burning, if his limbs were broken if he had no oxygen. She'd take his place, and he'd be safe in hers. And she was stronger, so she could try. She could try to save Rumiko —
Someone slapped her, the pain was sharp across her cheek. Air rushed from her lips and she was spluttering, eyes wide, a frantic Ezra. His rage was horrifying, black in sharp eyes. His fingers clawed into her wrist, but she didn't feel it. On his lips was a snarl. He was so angry he burned.
"Don't you fucking dare," he almost screamed, a flood of tears streaming down his cheeks. "You're not going into his body. YOU ARE NOT FUCKING GOING, YOU HEAR ME?" And she was shaking, almost weeping. The tears spilled down her cheeks, salty on her tongue. She was pleading, her hands on his jeans, tugging, pulling, begging. Casper held her fingers around her waist, just before she could fall onto her knees. And he too, struggled to breathe through his own sobs.
"He's alive," she mumbled, almost deranged. "Give me sleeping pills. Give me anything. I'll try. I'll try to find him. Just need a moment—"
"YOU ARE NOT GOING!" Ezra was panting, heaving. His body caught up in his lack of oxygen. He quietened and wheezed. "For fuck's sake. Let the firemen find him. Let the professionals do their fucking job." He was standing with his hands on her shoulder. "You're not going to sleep until, we're sure. You are not going there—"
"They're still alive!" she was screaming now. Her voice was raw, it tore out of her throat, powered by the rush of emotions. The rush of need, almost animalistic she thrashed in Casper's arms. "They're both still alive. And I know it. I know it. I can do it. I can find them; I can bring them back. Let me do it. Let me try, please God, please. Please, Please I can do it—"
"DON'T," he was roaring, eyes wet. There was crying in the background, and one of her soulmates was heaving on the ground. God, they were spiralling. He pulled her into his arms, and she was begging, swimming in despair. And he was around her, holding her close. Tears in his eyes. "Don't."
"I CAN DO IT!" She was screaming, her vision swam, blurry. "I CAN DO IT, PLEASE!" She didn't sound like herself, didn't feel like herself. It was as if another had taken over her body. And her voice was broken in the dry sobs that ravaged her body as she wailed. "PLEASE!"
"No, baby, no." He was sobbing, his voice breaking. His arms around her as she flailed towards the destruction.
"PLEASE!"
She was screaming when they took her back. His arms around her, her fists pounding his chest. And she was screaming when they left the venue. The heat burned on her skin in the back of the ambulance. Even so, she pounded her fist on his chest, again and again.
She was quiet when they had her cleaned, bandages to her fingers, and oxygen in her lungs. Antibiotics to her wounds. She slumped in his hold, head on his shoulders. They watched her, Sieon's hand on her wrist, pinched her the moment she tried to sleep.
They wouldn't allow it, wouldn't let her. And then she was in their hotel room, with the baby crib waiting. But her soulmates made quick work to remove it, bodies blocking it from her view. The crib was tossed out into the lobby. Their arms were around her shoulders. She felt empty, floating in her bubble of horror.
They wanted to change her, fingers on the hem of her shirt, but she stopped them at her jeans. Her hands were around the package deep in her pocket. Her fingers were numb and clumsy as her wounds tore as she dug around in her pocket. Finally, she looked up at them, her gaze dragged to exhausted eyes. Fatigue burned in her limbs, scorched her muscles, but she was thick with the adrenalin of loss.
"Ezra," she blubbered, eyes wet. Cruel was the fate of life, and its sudden change. "I made him go in there. He followed me. He followed me. It's m-my place to take. I wanted to save her—I wanted to— It's all my fault. It's all my fault."
"It's not your fault," Ezra repeated, like a mantra, like a broken record. "It's not your fault—" He was the only one who seemed to be able to speak. The rest had grown silent, and had retreated into their bodies. Ezra seemed to be the only one holding up their world. Her blood was thunderous in her ears, her breathing even louder. It echoed, deafening. And her cheeks only grew wetter.
"I- I wanted to propose tonight."
There was silence, eyes on her. Ezra shook as she opened the box in her pocket. The rings glittered, gold, platinum, and silver. Colours that would suit their skin. The box was warm, ashy, and burnt. But the gemstones remained seven colours. Her name with theirs, a design she'd spent ages on. A star for Ezra. A rose for Sieon. A handprint for Casper. A lilac for MinJae. A bunny for JieMi. A heart for Hikaru.
And a sun for Oliver.
They were seven. Always seven.
"It was for everyone. Everyone." Her head bowed, tears flooding she pressed her face into his shoulder and screamed.
*
It took far too long for the fire to die.
The fire had been too quick, too fast, and had scorched the venue as if it had a mind of its own. Its location was specific, the stage had been tampered with, sprayed with something flammable. Someone wanted the destruction. Someone wanted them dead.
And she knew what they suspected, what they couldn't tell her, what her boys didn't want to tell her as she lay curled on the couch, whimpering. She was numb at the end of it, eyes wide and staring into the darkness.
There was always someone watching her, pinching her skin. She could not sleep, and they would not allow her to. But she never did listen, and she tried to when one had left whispering quiet words of reassurance. She'd sunk to the base of the closet. Her eyes closed, her body leaning against the wood, begging pleading.
She was on her knees. Please take me to Liv. Please. In her mind, spun his laughter, her baby's laughter. A ragged breath and there were tears dripping down his cheeks, puddling, and her nose was clogged. A ragged sob. burning ache inside of her. All Amber could do was beg through the waves of despair, heavy in her throat. It strangled her with the ocean of tears.
The body exchange did not come. JieMi broke open the door, dragging her out of there without a word. There was no scolding, only more tears. She was placed on the couch. MinJae had her in his lap, and she screamed at them, sobbing into their arms. She wished they let her try. Her mind continued replaying the scene like torture, and behind the walls of grief, the emotions almost seemed to taste like fear.
Oliver with their daughter in his arms. Rumiko blubbering, Oliver with the smallest of smiles. And then the beam. Oliver had been smiling. Oliver had been smiling. He'd taken her phone. He'd gone into the fire because of her. He'd gone in there because of her.
Time seemed to go on endlessly.
*
When daylight came, hope dwindled, and exhaustion grew.
The heartache continued roaring. And her mind spun over the thousands of times she'd begged for Rumiko to leave her. She tried to think of the last time she'd told them she loved them. She wondered if they knew. The thought gnawed in her gut, and her mind spun. Her attention was so short, the ability to concentrate seemed to wane. She couldn't speak to her soulmates, not knowing what to say, not knowing what to do.
And then she was preparing, preparing food. Her body moving, her milk leaking from her breast. Oliver's favourite meal—tofu soybean soup for his throat. Her baby's milk, pumped and stored into the fridge like nothing ever happened. A bottle that was warmed and ready on the counter. And there stood Hikaru with his arms around her, whispering broken words.
"Momo, baby it's ok, go sit down."
"B-but they'll want to eat when they're back," her eyes were teary. "Right?" He went quiet, nodding as he followed her just as numb as she was, just as broken. Her soulmates returned then, the door closing. And she was running to Casper, to JieMi, to MinJae. "Did you—"
"They didn't find them," Casper whispered. And she froze, eyes wide searching for answers in his face. In his eyes, there was only the dull emptiness of grief. She flinched back, burnt. It didn't take much for her to understand that expression. But still, she hoped, and they knew she did. Their eyes strayed to the kitchen. The table of food. The baby's bottle. JieMi's breath hitched.
"M-maybe," she whimpered out, peeling the skin of her fingers, "maybe he escaped."
There was a hiss, a shake of his head. "They're dead," MinJae answered blankly, eyes eerily wide. "They found bodies. No survivors."
"It can't be they would have found a-a—" she was grasping blinking, a strange twitch of her lips. Her body was odd, it struggled. "A baby." Her eyes opened wider. She blinked. "Rumiko. Rumiko always exists in Sieon's dreams. She couldn't—"
"The future can always change," Sieon reminded her softly. His voice was hoarse, his hand on hers.
Amber shook her head. "What if, what if—"
"THEY'RE DEAD!" There was a cry from MinJae, a broken sob. "They're dead." And JieMi's arms were around him, hushing soothing. Then he was pulled to the side. And then Casper was scooping her into his arms, body warm.
"It'll take some time," Casper whispered gently. "They can't find anything conclusive."
"But they were right at the front, they should have found them—"
"It'll take some time for them to identify the bodies," he explained. And she understood his words now, her mouth gaping. The bodies were burnt to a crisp, they were unidentifiable. And if her Oliver was dead, he must have—She fought the nausea that billowed in her throat. "It'll take some time," Casper repeated.
"But they could have escaped—They could have—" Her tears welled up again. She shook, terror filled her throat. "Who? Who did it?"
"They don't know yet—It's not—"
"I don't—" her hands were on her chest, holding, clawing. Under the grief, her soul bond remained whole. "I don't feel it breaking. I'm still okay. He's not. He's not dead. I'm sure." She smiled, her lips stretching. "I'm sure."
"Amber, your bonds were broken once. Please," Casper whispered, there were tears in his eyes. "Please."
"I would know," she nodded, ignoring their looks at her. Their eyes seemed to say that she was crazy. "I would. Just trust me. I'm sure. I'm sure, he's there. He is. And Rumiko, she's alive. I know—I know she is. I can feel them. I can feel them here. They're alive. They're alive."
"Baby—"
"You don't trust me?" her eyes were teary again. Her chest was on fire. Her head hurt.
"You are tired," Casper answered slowly. "You are very tired."
"I'm not I—"
Then she was stumbling, stumbling back. Her smile grew, she was unable to stop. The grief tugged at her lips, pulled at the tears. She couldn't seem to control her face. But now it was crumpling, her smile. Her eyes swept over the utter despair that wracked their family. She didn't feel like herself, lost in the wind. Her soulmates did not speak, deep in their bubbles of grief. The shock was too new.
She moved, darted back and Sieon caught her wrist. "Don't," Sieon stated, his eyes were tired when they met hers. But they burned with his warning. "I'm not leaving you alone. You will stay here with us."
"J-just a bath..." she mumbled. "The door will be open. I promise." She watched him blink once, then let her go, his fingers slipping from her wrist. It was the resignation that scared her, gone was the need to stop her from attempting sleep. They truly believed them dead. A whimper escaped her throat, a destroyed keen.
And then she was stumbling back into her room, back into the bathroom. She closed the door, holding herself, her eyes were leaking once again, now unbearably hot. Her heart shuddered painfully in her chest. The walls of her bath seemed to close in, pulsing with her tears. She inhaled and exhaled almost hysteric. She breathed, slowly, steadily.
It's her fault.
Already there was a knock on the door, and she called back a barely half-hearted grunt of acknowledgement. The person stood for a beat, a shadowy figure that disappeared. Her eyes were on the bath, a bath that she ran with clumsy fingers. She twisted the knobs. She felt fragile, and broken, and yet there was something in her that was calm. Something that urged her to continue, to work through her horror.
To try.
The feel of Oliver's lips on hers burned in her mind. The taste of him on her tongue. She sighed. The water was so hot it scalded her skin; but she was sinking into it with her clothes on, leaning against the tub. The water was warm when she fell asleep too quickly. It was almost as if her body knew, almost as if it wanted to try.
Someone screamed.
And she switched.
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