"Jade, I think I get it. Some of the pills are for my schizophrenia and some of them are filled with brugmansia extract." Mei looked at the girl sitting at the desk. It's been some time since they stepped foot into the room the Writers' Guild usually used and she wasn't surprised if Jade had to look at her surroundings.

"That means..."

"You can't heal me of my schizophrenia. I have to take my meds. Now we sort out which is which."

Mental illness isn't something that can be healed so easily. It takes time and patience, as well as the right attitude, and the healing is usually a long process. Mei thought.

Jade turned to her. "You know, I got out of depression because life got a little better. Now, I'm just in pursuit of vengeance and justice. I'm sorry. I really didn't mean it."

"Okay." Mei nodded. "The effects of brugmansia is gone so I'm just a person with schizophrenia."

"I think you're doing better ever since you took the meds. Believe me, you will really get better. I know of others like you who lead better lives after taking meds and exercising daily, going out with friends, etcetera." Jade took a sip of water.

"Okay." Mei glanced at the chairs, the four white walls and the the laptop on the desk. "Sayo."

"Huh?" Jade dropped the bottle.

"She's a good friend. She fly away. Spread the message. If you see her, don't catch her and put her in a cage."

Jade relaxed her shoulders and hummed. She knew it would get better. Life would get better, no matter how cliché it sounded.

"The society we live in is afraid of us. But I'm not afraid of them. We don't even want to hurt them; we only hurt ourselves. Of course, they shun us because of that stigma."

Mei clicked her tongue. Jade's words reminded her of the labels and the misunderstood people around them. She thought of Bloodglass, that one line that resonated with her. She thought about the passport, the stamps on the passport, the label makers and the victims. She thought about society placing the labels on them because some of them would be a hindrance to society and lower the productivity level.

They don't understand us, but they need us.

"We look no different from them. We humans."

"Why are we labelled mad, mental, crazy, psycho, cuckoo... and not them?" Jade whispered. "We need a voice. Our voice."

Jade got up and shut the laptop down. Mei looked at her as Jade stroked Mei's blue hair.

"Okay. Shall we find Ciara?" Jade asked and received a nod from Mei. "Let's go."

「」

Everyone was smiling. They walked past the boy with dark circles around his brown eyes. He faced them, but they never turned to see him, as if there was a barrier separating them that made invisible. Men in suits, women holding briefcases, all on their way to work. Boys and girls played tag. Grins and laughter were everywhere.

Pain flared in his lungs. Some unknown force—was it himself?—kept battering, battering and battering his heart. His shattered spirit drowned in everyone's obliviousness to his condition. The scar on his wrist was the last thing he wanted everyone to see, but they never failed to notice that.

Outlandish thoughts lashed at his mind. They told him how stupid he was to visit Gengar that day only to find the Pokémon was not there anymore, that his friend must have been so disappointed and left him. They told him that nothing good ever happened to him, that he was born a cursed child. They told him to smile, and he did smile and feel his muscles twitch from time to time due to numbness. He did smile even when he was alone. Why, you fake it till you make it.

"It's all in your head," Tarocchi had said. The woman would always give him the look as if he was so special. Only he knew that he wasn't. He felt like he was constantly being watched and he didn't like it. He didn't know so much about family other than the fact that the cult was his family—that was what they told him too.

Look, the thought circled around him and whispered in his ears, so close he could feel their sharp fangs sinking into his skin, no one understands you. Sadness lasts forever.

It sounded so true, so credible, so much so that he had lost himself in the midst of finding himself and picking himself back up. Who was he? The boy who cried to sleep every night, and barely slept at all? The boy who smiled to please the world no matter how empty he was inside? He'd look into the mirror—"that pathetic-looking boy!"—and wallow in self-pity. The world was not made up of people, but of masks, of visages of cheerfulness.

We're all just playing pretend, aren't we?

Soon, within days, he became his own world. Sometimes, he would invite his other friend, Blade the Gallade, into his world, because Blade accepted him. Blade loved him.

But the boy wanted more. He wanted affection. He wanted to know what parental love felt like. That was something Blade couldn't give him, no matter how close they were.

Every single time he said "I'm fine", his eyes would be full of varying shades of melancholy, his heart singing a different tune, his soul weeping. He took in his surroundings, the happy world he lost touch of—he thought he could have been part of it in the past.

The questions the cult often asked him were meaningless ones like "Have you eaten your breakfast?" and "How's everything?". His smiles were plastic. The eggs he ate for breakfast were tasteless despite the peppers he sprinkled on them. The jam was plain and the bread was just as plain. He was forced to eat, forced to forget about Gengar and forced to sleep even though he couldn't do these mundane chores well.

He was so emotionally lifeless, shutting himself from the rest of the world. Yvette didn't like it and Tarocchi didn't take it too well. The world was monochromatic and monotonous, filled with darkness that swirled and thickened every second. He had stashed his feelings behind a wall of numbness since a long time ago. He made himself into a liar even though he hated it.

Blade told him to challenge his thoughts but it was so difficult. He succeeded once or twice, but never again. Every time Blade entered his world, he began to push the Gallade away.

It doesn't mean that you can understand what I'm going through if you're a Psychic-type. I have a shattered psyche.

That was his excuse. Sleep became a good way to escape. Ever since his reality was manipulated by the cult and seized by them, he didn't care about ideals. He only wanted Shrike back.

The more the world didn't understand him, the emptier he felt. The more they made him use that strange power of his, the worse he felt, and the more stressed he became.

He hated the world.

The world must hate me back too.

「」

Sage jolted up, his hands flying to grab at the air as his chest heaved and ached. That had to be a memory. He had a psychotic episode in the past.

"You're awake," Zayn said, coming to his side. "Feeling better?"

"I don't know," Sage mumbled. He pulled his shirt, a white graphic tee with a Gengar doing shadow play to cheer a Mimikyu up, and tightened his grip.

"It's okay. I'm here."

"Is it really okay?" Sage asked. "The memories, the past..."

The war rages in my mind. It's a battle to regain myself.

"You've got to remember." A childlike voice seeped into his mind. "Everything."

Sage clasped his hands together. "Zayn, I'm scared. It's been long since it came. It's back. I'm so scared."

Zayn bit his lips, sat on the bed and pulled the boy in. Sage was so fragile and so precious to him. He wished Sage wouldn't have to go through all this.

"I'm here. Just... don't do that again. Life is precious, Sage. You don't want to lose me too, right?"

"I'm here too." Blade came out of the bathroom, announcing his presence.

"So am I."

Sage flinched at the soprano voice. It was... strangely familiar. "There is no hope. My name's Sage, a healing plant, but I'm not healing at all. I'm not a plant. I'm only human. It's a mistake. My parents shouldn't have named me that."

Sage cracked. What could he become? He couldn't be anything. If he were fire, he would be dangerous. If he were rain, he would flood the world with his rage. What could he become?

"Why, you become what you've come to love. Shit squared, Shitshit."

"That's not true. And I'm here. I promise I'll support you." Zayn slid his lips onto Sage's dry ones, thrusting the latter out of his mind and into him. When they pulled away seconds later, Zayn said, "I promise."

"But promises can be broken."

"A promise— A vow cannot be stolen." Zayn patted his head. "We'll take things one step at a time."

A knock on the door broke the atmosphere. Zayn was about to get up when Sage tugged at his sleeve.

"Stay here," Sage said.

"I'll go get it. It's okay."

Stop telling me 'it's okay'. What is this 'it'? Sage cried internally as his grip loosened.

"It's okay. I'm here for you. We can get through this."

Who are you? Sage retorted in his head before looking at the ruckus at the door.

It was his fellow Emo-Senpai members. They were smiling.

"We heard what happened," Gin muttered. "Want to... take a late afternoon walk?"

"I'll be your dog. People say it's good to spend time with pets. I brought both of my rock and electric guitar. Wanna see me perform magic?" Lynx said.

"It's just your Singularity. Your rock guitar becomes a Pokémon, and your electric guitar, ditto. Just Gigalith and Vikavolt," Alain spoke sotto voice.

"Hey, you just revealed the trick. No fair!" The blonde-haired boy nudged his friend before raising a brow at Sage. "So? Wanna walk a dog?"

Zayn glanced at his roommate. "It'll be good for you. Spend more time with your friends."

"Yes. Go, go! Out into the air!"

"Being alone and being lonely are different," Sage mumbled.

"I never said anything about that," Zayn said.

"Okay," Sage mumbled. "I'll go. See you later."

"Oh, see you soon... And the name's Shrike."

Nodding to himself, Sage hoped his decision was right as he saw the door close and cover the entirety of Zayn and Blade. Yes, he probably needed a dose of sunshine. Whoever Shrike was, it had to be a part of him, his consciousness he'd reckon. Shrike was right, too. It was the same name as the Gengar back then too. Maybe he's back. Everything's coming back.

Sage truly needed to be out into the air, inhaling whatever freshness nature had in store for him.

"I got your back." Zayn told him before he lost consciousness.

A small smile sailed across Sage's face. He needed more support and validation. He needed to be free of the shackles of solipsism. He wanted the world to understand him, and he decided now that he had to understand the world first.

I wouldn't want to shuffle off this mortal coil just yet.

Sucking a breath, he followed his band mates to wander around the island as he searched within himself for a way to challenge his thoughts and possibly touch the light at the end of the tunnel.

Suddenly, he felt an urge to know just which part of the tunnel he was at and whether that light was Zayn's.