Arknights story · Operator Records
Under the Shining Sun
Lutonada follows the voices echoing in her mind, and pieces together three once happy lives.
1 scenes, 222 lines
1. Interlude
222 linesSome ugly fowlbeasts circle about. They're nearly as big as I am.
With their stinking beaks and sharp talons, they tear the clothes off corpses in search of food. Sometimes they just eat the corpse. Honestly, I'm not much different from them.
I'm grown up now, so I can force my way past them. I grab the things out of the corpses' grasps. Goods and ID tags I can exchange for rewards, equipment I can sell for money, food I can eat...
Oh, but I haven't found much today. What do I do? I'm so, so hungry...
Ca... Can you... help me...?
—Ah! Th-This one's not dead yet!
I... I want to plant these seeds... See them bloom...
He takes a little, dirt-covered paper bag out of his shirt pocket and pushes it into my hands.
But then, another hand, and then another. Countless hands stretching out from nowhere, grabbing me tight. I hear so many voices, filling my head—
'I want to eat barbecue...' 'I want to dance once more...' 'I want...' 'I want...'
'I want—!'
Ah!
And that's how it is. I should find something I want, but I don't actually know what I want, and I'm always hearing those voices...
No need to worry, Lutonada. It's normal to not know what you want to do after leaving a familiar environment. Operators Cantabile and Frostleaf have found ways to adapt to their new lives.
Did the HR operators tell you to try writing these voices down? They should have.
Try organizing them in a way that makes you comfortable, just like how you organize the goods you find.
I can give you a notebook, if you need one. Of course, if you prefer to do it another way, feel free.
Maybe after writing down the voices, you can figure out what you want to do.
You're looking a little unwell, Lutonada. Can you still hear the voices, even after writing them down? Or maybe I should ask, what's causing you issues now?
I don't know... I wrote them down, but I don't think I got anything out of it. I still don't understand what they meant when they said those things.
Why were they thinking about these things before they died, instead of wanting to live? Are they... that important? Even more important than living?
What would it feel like... to do these things?
(Whispering) *phew* That's great.
You realize it, Lutonada? You've got some things that made you curious, aside from the 'living' conundrum.
If there's something you're curious about, it's best you go try it yourself.
Giving those things a try, huh...?
Hmm, where have I seen this flower shop's name before?
'Resplendent Flowers, on the corner of Third Street'. I guess this is it. I still have the bag of seeds that man gave me. I remember he said...
'I want to plant these seeds... See them bloom...'
How do I... plant flowers?
Hey, chica, what're you doing, blocking my door like that?! I'm closing for the night and I got stuff to shift, so move it!
Closing? Ah, sorry, let me—
Ah, wait, I see you got some seeds there. Here to buy a flowerpot?
No...
Doesn't matter. The street's about to get bombed to dust. Been a long time since I could make a living as a florist. I can't take these flowers with me, just grab anything you want.
Eh? I-I'm not—
Don't worry, free of charge. They're not my flowers anyway. I was taking care of them for a young man from a few years back. I only agreed after he bought a whole bunch. He never came back for them, though.
After so many years, he must not want them anymore. They're yours now.
Come on, move!
W-Wait...
Pots and pots of flowers are stacked atop the steps leading to the ruined street. Lutonada picks one up, watching the delicate flowers sway gently in the wind.
She vaguely remembers the expression on the face of the soldier who handed her these seeds, one full of... 'yearning', or perhaps 'tranquility?'
He spoke lightly, as if it were not a reeking battlefield before him, but a quiet afternoon.
'I want to plant these seeds... See them bloom...'
Planting flowers... Why were these on his mind at a time like that?
What emotion did he feel? To make him remember such a thing even as he died...?
(The office is only two streets away. Maybe I should bring these flowers so I can try taking care of them.)
Eh? There's a tag on the pot. The handwriting on it matches with the flower shop address written on the paper bag...
'Backyard BBQ'...
I... I want to eat barbecue one more time...
The kind that's real charred on the outside, but tender on the inside... Just one last piece...
I really want...
...I should try that too.
A plate of meat fresh off the grill is placed in front of Lutonada. Juice drips everywhere, the smell of spice and fat wafting into her nose.
On the battlefield, she would eat anything to survive, even a leather belt. The sensation of a foreign object in her stomach filled her with dread.
At Rhodes Island, she would stuff herself full with their healthy, nutritional meals, and she would feel at ease.
Now, she eats the entire plate of meat, brimming with an irresistible, alluring scent, delightedly. She feels... joy.
But it doesn't match the expression on the face of the soldier when he repeated his mantra of 'I want to eat barbecue one more time'. It's an expression she can't name.
What was it? The barbecue was delicious, but it was just a filling meal. What was the emotion that would invoke such longing in the face of death? She has never felt it herself.
...
You're a rare sight, muchacha, eating barbecue while carrying a flowerpot. Been a good few years since I've seen that particular combo.
How's the taste? Too much seasoning? Do you want some more veggies?
...
Lutonada shakes her head.
Ah, seems you're not much of a talker. Don't worry about it! As long as you're up for a listen, I'll talk for both of us.
Back when business was booming, I could serve fifty kilos of meat a day. Now, though... With a battle raging out there, who's in the mood for a meal like this?
Seems like you're not in much of a mood either. What's got your brow all scrunched up like that? Care to share your worries with me?
I...
Haha, no need to tell if you don't want to. Sorry, spoke without thinking.
Customers these days always come in with something on their minds, but half the time some barbecue and a chat will clear them up.
If you're up for becoming a repeat customer, I'll give you some sides, gratis!
No, it's not that, I just...
The barbecue's delicious, and the flowers are pretty, but why would a dying man want to experience these things one last time?
I just don't understand...
Eh? Hahaha, that's it? And here that look had me thinking it was something serious! Isn't the answer just 'it's something he loved to death'?
Take me for example. Before I die, I wanna to eat a big pile of barbecue, then have one last beautiful dance! Burn all that energy up!
After all that, I'll have a nice lie down on the ground. If I really do breathe my last, I won't have a single regret!
Satisfied with that answer, muchacha?
...Dance?
What a pity... I want to dance the zapateado... one last time...
It's been a real long time... since I wore a dancing skirt...
Just one more time... That's all I ask...
Is this dance... the zapateado?
Oho, you've heard of it? You don't look like a local, so I never imagined!
Time was I'd have plenty of customers who, after eating and drinking their fill, would rush to the backyard to dance up a storm. Though with all the fighting nowadays, there's nobody to dance with.
The backyard...?
What, you want to have a look?
There's nobody here. It's completely empty.
Si, sadly so. The grass has quickly grown wild, too. Shame it's been so long since I've come out back. I've nearly forgotten how to even dance the zapateado.
Let me think... Lift your hands up high, stamp your left foot, then your right, do a full turn, then jump!
*pant* *pant* Phew, been too long, took me right out! I remember there was another muchacha, now she could really dance! How her skirt spun round and round... Like a perfectly grilled skewer of alambre, fit to burst. Both beauties to look at.
Sure! Not like I've got any other customers. Just do as I did. Lift your hands up high, stamp your left foot, then your right, do a full turn, then jump!
...Lift your hands up high, stamp your left foot, then your right, do a full turn, then jump...
So that's how you do the dance? I don't really feel anything different...
Ah, but dance it a few more times and you'll learn to love it, muchacha! Come, let's keep going!
Umm... Sorry, but I can't today. I still have some flowers I need to return. Muchas gracias.
...*sigh* Alright then. Come by for some more barbecue whenever you like!
That night, I heard those voices once more in my dreams.
Those people tugging on my hand, are they... 'yearning'? Or maybe 'reminiscing'? Or maybe they're 'happy', having said the things lingering on their minds in their final moments.
What was it that they were feeling?
It's not the feeling of finding something on a corpse. It's not the feeling of finally having a full belly. It's also not the feeling I had at Rhodes Island, when I learned I didn't have to do anything to keep living.
What was it that put such a look on their faces, even as they died a sudden death?
June 7th. I'm learning how to plant flowers. It's hard to get them to grow, but some seeds have sprouted, and I've planted them in a flowerpot.
I've been learning to look after the flowers that the florist gave me, but many of them wilt away and I don't know why. I've kept them watered, so why is this happening?
I've also kept learning the zapateado. I hope I can dance it well one day.
June 19th. There's too many flowers now, and the office can't hold them all. I've given a few to the barbecue man. He said he would put them in the backyard. I hope a change of scenery lets them grow better.
I'm still doing my best with the seeds. Some sprouts have grown well, while others have withered.
I'm still learning the zapateado from the barbecue man. I can't do it well yet, and I'm really tired.
July 2nd. Even more of the flowers have wilted. Growing them is really difficult, and kind of dull.
I still can't do the dance. It's like my limbs can't keep up with the beat, and I can't control them well enough to make the dance look good.
The barbecue man can't dance it that well either, but when he does it, he looks so happy. Why?
It's like... I can't get anything out of these experiences.
July 15th.
I've tried many things. Planting flowers, eating barbecue, dancing, but I still don't feel that... I would care about this even in my final moments.
I don't know what I should be doing now. It's like I survived the war, but I... also didn't. I don't know what I should care about.
Is it because these things aren't mine? Can I not feel the same way because they're the feelings of others?
It's like there's nothing I can do to change.
...
Muchacha! The muchacha who eats while holding a flowerpot, you here?!
...Eh?
Those flowers you gave me have bloomed! My backyard's never been more beautiful! Come, I'll show you.
R-Right now?
Of course right now! *cough* Are you here by yourself? Why've you got an entire scrapyard with you? Do you sell it to earn money? It really doesn't look like your kind of thing...
No, I'm only... I'm used to it, and I didn't know what else to do, so...
Ah, it's fine, as long as you live another day! Never you mind all that. Now, come! Your home doesn't get any sunlight, and my backyard's a place of beauty now, so you have to come see!
I...
I'm serious! I insist!
Eh? Ah!
See? Watering them wasn't a waste. It's why they're still here! And they're so pretty!
When's el jefe coming back? He said I could look after the place while he went to get someone, so if he doesn't come back, that makes me the boss! Hahaha...
Ah, I never imagined we would do the zapateado here again. I thought nobody would ever be in the mood to dance again!
You're right. I almost forgot that this place had both barbecue and dancing.
Look, muchacha! It's all thanks to you coming to eat my barbecue and mentioning the zapateado. It's been a long, long time since anyone talked about that dance.
The fighting out there has everyone on edge, so I've been dancing in the backyard when I've got nothing better to do. Some customers of mine saw, and decided to join me after not dancing for so long.
And they love the flowers you gave me. They've been helping to water them, and bit by bit, my backyard's so lively again! It's been a long time since it was this busy!
Of course! All thanks to you, muchacha!
Oh hey, jefe! You're back!
What are we waiting for? Aren't we going to dance?
You've been learning the zapateado for a while now. Don't you want to dance with everyone?
I-I don't...
Bah, no need to be shy! Ándale, ándale!
Haven't seen you before, chica. Want to join?
I—!
All you have to do is have fun dancing with everyone. Lift your hands up high, stamp your left foot, then your right, do a full turn, then jump!
Come on, join in!
S-Stamp your left foot, then your right—ah, sorry, I stepped on you!
Hahaha, ¡no pasa nada! Keep dancing!
Do a full turn! And then jump!
Haha! Watch your steps! Don't worry about it, that's just how the zapateado is!
Now lift those arms up and wave your hands!
Lift your arms up, wave your hands...
Stamp your left foot, then your right... Oh! I'm really sorry!
Yowch! You've got some real force behind your step, chica. This from eating jefe's barbecue?
Just watch out, I might end up stepping on you!
I-I'm so sorry!
Hey, look, you're scaring her!
Really, it's fine. Jefe is dancing in his own special way, but he's still a joy to watch, right? Just dance as you like!
Come, take my hand, I'll guide you! Lift your hands up high, stamp your left foot, then your right, do a full turn, then jump!
Lift your hands up high, stamp your left foot, then your right...
That's it! Now once more! Stamp your left foot, then your right, do a full turn! Then jump!
Do a full turn, then jump...
Nicely done! You're a quick learner! Just dance along to the music! As long as you're happy, we're all happy!
Haha, I guess you did!
Hah, you finally laughed.
This place is really heating up. It's been a long time since I've had a day this good... And it's all thanks to a muchacha cradling a flowerpot who came to eat my barbecue.
You didn't know this, but there was once a muchacho like you who ate while carrying a flowerpot. He never let go of his treasured flowers. The day I saw you, I thought of him, and how long it's been since I last saw him.
He had two friends, one who could eat an entire roast in one meal, and the other the muchacha who could really dance the zapateado, whose whirling skirt was just like his flowers...
Those were good days, back when those three chicos visited all the time... Haha, you all look as happy as they did back then!
And then there's you, muchacha. After seeing you laugh, I'm guessing today's a happy day for you too?
Lutonada has not yet recovered from the bout of dancing earlier. She is still catching her breath, her heart pounding within her chest.
The sun continues to shine, just as the people before her continue to dance. The voices echo by her ear once more, but this time, her mind does not envision a murky battlefield.
She feels as if she has caught sight of three indistinct figures. One holds a flowerpot, one is biting down on some barbecue, while the third is whirling her skirt while she dances.
There is a warm feeling spreading through her once-empty chest.
Eating barbecue, planting flowers, and dancing... So it was you three all along...
This feeling that brings an inexplicable smile to my face seems to be 'satisfaction'. Seeing the people around me with such joy on their faces lets me feel... 'fulfilment'.
I think I know what these emotions are now.
It's the feeling of wanting to cherish this moment forever, a warm feeling that leads to longing in your heart...
But...
Lutonada looks at the blooming flowers before her, at the meat sizzling away in its own fat, and at the people dancing as the music goes from tune to tune. The three indistinct figures fade away.
She only barely remembers those people fallen into the mud of the battlefield. She searched them all over for supplies to survive, while they softly told her their final wishes.
What did they look like? What were their names? Did they say anything else to her? She does not remember.
...
Forgive me...
I took your things and traded them in for money and food, all so I could survive... And now I've taken your place in the things that brought you joy...
But you're already... And I don't remember anything...
...
Is the meat done yet? I'm thinking I want some more!
Ah, today's been a real good day, eh?
That chica wasn't a bad dancer just now. She's a fast learner. I hope she comes along next time... Hmm? Where's she gone off to? I didn't see.
Drink time! ¡Salud!
Lutonada skirts around the crowd. The flowers she gave away that day are swaying under the sun, their blossoms yet small.
She bends down, picks up a flowerpot, and quietly departs.
Hey, muchacha! Where're you going all of a sudden?!
Two weeks later...
Say, Lutonada, everyone's invited you to dance so many times already, why do you never come?
Umm... I'm been busy planting flowers here in the office...
Planting flowers? Sure, everyone likes them, but you'll take a break, have some barbecue and dance, right?
Ah, forget it. The ones you gave me last time have bloomed real nice in the backyard. All my customers love them, say they want to have three square meals a day here. Won't you come have a look?
I will. Thank you, jefe.
The backyard is covered in flowers in full bloom. Several people are dancing the zapateado amidst the aroma of roasting meat. They do not recognize Lutonada, content to marvel at the beauty of the flowers.
A tree stands, covered in mottled bark except for one bare spot, three names carved onto it. She places the flower she carries below the tree, grown from her bag of seeds, the pot sporting a drawing of her own design.
A flower, a big plate of barbecue, and a dancing woman.
The barbecue man says the people who come to dance really love these flowers. So I thought, if I grew more of them, and even more after that, there would be lots more people who come to dance.
You all loved these scenes of bustling happiness, so this way, you won't fade away...
The florist closed down his shop. I put a bucket of flowers on the streetcorner where it used to be, filled with fresh flowers I grew, free for anyone to take.
Many people came to dance today, and they had the biggest smiles on their faces when they saw the flowers. There was also one who challenged himself to eat an entire flank of barbecue...
The things you three loved are now being enjoyed by ever more people.
Lutonada stretches out a hand to touch the flower in the pot lightly. The sun shines brightly. She exhales, letting out a long breath.
Have I... managed to fulfill your wishes?