By the Remaining People

His name is Ash. It has fur all over its body, round ears and blunt claws, and amber eyes. The most useless Fury boy in the town. Skin the fish, apologize, get whipped, get laughed at. He curled up into a ball and buried his chin in the longest down on his chest, not even daring to cry. He doesn't resist. Never. He's just timid. I'm afraid I look like this. Afraid of taking up space. I'm afraid I'm wasting air even breathing. He spent the whole winter asking "who am I" - beneath the skin, it's skin; beneath the skin, it's still skin. Nothing. Until he met a bird girl flying from the south. Her feathers are dark blue. Her eyes are a darker blue. She said for him the four words that he wanted to say most in his life, but could never say them out—— "I'm here." She said it very softly. But she didn't know that this admission would hurt him even more when he lost everything later. What she didn't know was that she herself was also the one left behind. They are all waiting for an omission called "closure". And losers happen to be the last category to be erased in this omission—— Because they are "not worthy" of being remembered.