#KA trembling in her boots

[reminiscingtonight]

Australia heard there was the possibility of playing against a homophobe so they stacked their field with pretty much all 🌈 players

[pisayers]

Hivemind

The giant parasol danced over our heads as the wind grazed the smiles on our faces. Gift wrappers and plastic packages flew across the cemented basketball court, halting a 3x3 basketball game with the lower years on the other side. Nobody in the graduating batch cared, however. It was the final Christmas Party that we were going to get as high schoolers, and by mercy of the higher powers who were mad with rain pouring down in torrents for the past few days, the sun shone bright amidst feathery clouds that dotted the clear blue sky.

With a scratch card, a pearl bracelet, Virginia Woolf’s To The Lighthouse, a spiral notebook, a pen thought to have been used by Kurt Vonnegut, and a gray laptop bag all wrapped around my arms, I shambled to a nearby tent and poured all of my gifts on the brown table. To my dismay, my scratch card fluttered with the wind, landing center court on a pair of Converse shoes.

I froze. Around ninety other people on the court and it had to be her. Her black cardigan shielded a shiny purple crop top with laces on her chest that hovered over the golden buckle of her cotton belt. Her leather pants gleamed in front of my eyes as I shuffled my way over to her looking like a balled up armadillo. Luckily, my Brooklyn Nets ball cap-trench coat-dark skinny jeans combo aired a shadowy and mysterious aura around me that blanketed my trembling bones beneath the heavy fabric.

She crouched down and scooped up the scratch card with her milk chocolate fingers, simultaneously readjusting her lumberjack bonnet to expose the bangs of her wavy hair. Every time she smiles and shows off those dimples, it’s as if I slowly melt to the ground like honey. The sweetness emanating from her polished brown eyes is enough for bees to swarm toward her. Each step I took was a staircase branching out into an out-of-body experience that still couldn’t process how I was even inches away from her.

“Sa’yo ba ‘to?” she asked in the cutest voice I’ve ever heard.

“Yep.”

“Awww. Isang piso lang?”

“May nakakuha ng 10k jan. Malas nga eh.”

“Okay lang yan. Baka swertehin ka pa sa susunod.”

Hopefully, luck is enough to carry me through what I’m about to pull off right now.

However, I clocked her best friend hobbling over towards our direction, her cream crutches and walking boot painted with my batchmates’ signatures covered in glitter. The two are almost inseparable and the timing could not be any worse. Tears welled up in my eyes as her friend wrapped her toned arms around her waist, her veiny hands hovering gently on the small of her back. Every neuron in my nerves, every fiber in my muscles, and every calcium deposit in my bones wanted to shred their arms apart like I was busting through elevator doors, but I didn’t have the guts.

I ran away to a spot in the bushes just meters away from the two to calm myself down. Even Mother Nature was screaming at me to just do it. The rustling of the bamboo grazing my flimsy arms, the dead leaves falling on my shoulders, and the bees dancing around my bootleg Mamba shoes were practically shoving me back onto the center court.

Suddenly, a skateboard collided with the banana tree on my right and crashed its way towards me. A short little boy who barely looked like a high school freshman charged towards the skateboard. With a mouth stained with chocolate syrup, baggy cargo pants mismatched with his black death metal tee, and a propellor beanie hat spinning at thousands of revolutions per minute, he jumps at the sight of me, startled and confused.

“Kuya? Anong ginagawa niyo dito?”

“Silong lang. Ang init.”

“Ay, sige po. Kunin ko lang po skateboard ko.”

Nearly tripping over his own untied shoelaces, he stumbled into the skateboard and picked it up by one of its wheels. The thing is taller than him, and clearly, he didn’t know how to use it. Who decided it was a good idea to give him this as a gift?

“Nagawa niyo na po ba?”

Amidst my own thoughts, the question startled me. Gossip around campus spreads like wildfire, I suppose.

He rambled, “Doon lang po siya sa gitna, oh?”

“Alam ko. Mamaya. Layas ka na.”

The boy frowned. It was never my intention to come off as cold. It’s just how I am when on edge.

“Sige, kuya.” he sighed. “Doon lang po ako sa triage kung kailangan niyo ako.”

“Enjoy ka, bro.” as I reached my clenched hand up for a fist bump.

With the widest chocolate grin, the boy ran as fast as the propeller on his head, leaving my outstretched arm hanging in the air.

I sat on the green bleachers, creeping along its sides to make sure no backpack or Aquaflask tumbler falls over. She was still there in the middle chatting with her best friend, their smiles brighter than the midday sun. With eagle eyes, I clocked every detail: the hem of her leather pants getting stepped on by her black slides, the three strands of hair shielding her right eye at random times, and the little tiny bells in her back pocket, jingling as if they were calling out my name. I was so fixated on her that I didn’t even feel the taps on my shoulder as one of the alumni who came to visit offered me a mango salad in a small plastic cup.

“Kahit hindi na po, kuya. Mangingilaw ngipin ko.” I exclaimed sarcastically. Or, at least, I made it appear sarcastic to him. It was true, though. I don’t exactly want to present myself with yellow-stained teeth.

He replied, “Sige. Bahala ka.” as he munched down on the mango bits with a small wooden spoon sticky with condensed milk.

The silence was deafening. I wanted to start a conversation with him, but no topic came out. What a waste of an alumnus’ time on campus!

“Nagawa mo na ba?”

And just like that, the ice between us was shattered. You would think someone studying in UP Cebu would not hear about hearsay in Baguio, but here we are now, I suppose.

“Pa’no niyo alam, kuya?” I asked, taken aback.

He chuckled, “Basta, pre. May connections ako dito.”

In mock frustration, I got up and walked to wherever the wind decided to take me next.

As I tiptoed along the sidelines of the basketball court, her pretty face was still there in the center with a Polaroid camera dangling on her middle and ring fingers. She whipped out a stack of pastel Polaroid film and tucked the plastic bag in the pockets of her best friend’s hoodie. It’s like that opening lyric in Katy Perry’s Firework. Yeah, I wanted to feel like a plastic bag. Yeah, that’s what I’m feeling right now.

To my surprise, the skateboard kid ran up to them and offered to take their photo, the stupid chocolate grin still plastered on his face. Is he just allergic to wiping his mouth? I guess some people don’t care about how they look in public. With bubbling annoyance held back, I watched the kid peep through the tiny viewfinder and double-tap the shutter button, the pastel film squeezing its way out and getting blown towards my direction. Not wanting a repeat of what I will now deem as the “scratch card incident” to my own gossip mates, I lumbered towards the 3x3 game on the other side of the court. Perhaps a basketball game under this trench coat can clear my head.

It didn’t.

How I even entered the basketball game was a blur at this point. At one point, I was substituting a random Grade 9 student who was thirty minutes late for his class, and suddenly, I was now guarding the campus’s basketball coach as the tallest and most capable person on the team that could stop him. My tomato chest and twig-like legs were barely holding on against the violent bumps and collisions he was making with his shoulder, and he bullied his way into the inside of the paint for an easy two points. As I was getting ready to pass the ball back to my teammates, I realized that the game was finished. Coach scored the final point to win the game. The Grade 9 prick subbed me in at the last possible moment of the game.

“Game!” he yelled, followed by an engine-like chuckle that pissed you off every time you got scored on.

Behind clenched teeth, I replied, “Nice game, sir.”

“Nice game.”

I slowly marched towards the underside of the backboard for some slight shade. With gallons of sweat dripping down to my core, I watched the rest of the teachers and staff remaining on the court chucking up shots before their class time. You almost had the assumption that they took the game of basketball more seriously than their actual classwork. Then again, when more than half of your students are getting unos in their report card, no one bats an eye.

I leaned my shoulder on the basketball pole when a ball started flying in my direction, nearly hitting me on the face if not for my quick reflexes. It was an airball. Coach made an airball. I couldn’t believe it.

“Sorry!” he shouted from the three-point line.

“Oks lang po, sir.”

He slowly sauntered his way towards me, his broken glasses nearly falling out a few times with the bullets of sweat making the wrinkles on his face more slippery. Here goes another philosophical reading that I have no care in the world to listen to right now.

“Alam mo, ang lovelife parang basketball lang. Dapat shoot ka lang ng shoot. Oo mimintis ka, pero…”

He proceeded to ramble on, but I was too distracted by her on the center court once again, now all alone. She had her phone out resting on the fingers of her hands, but it didn’t seem like she was doing anything with it. With the droopy eyelids and hunched back, it almost seemed like she was bored, scanning the surrounding area for a random volleyball player or band mate to talk to.

Quietly, I slipped away from Coach, still rambling about the basketballs and the bees. While he was young enough to dominate the basketball court, he was thankfully old enough to not realize that I was out of his sight, sprinting towards the center court with rivers of sweat flowing down to my neck and shoulders. It was time.

“Hi! May sasabihin lang ako.” I muttered.

“Hello! Ano ‘yon?” she replied, the sparks in her eyes making me tear up from anxiety.

The words won’t leave my lips. It’s three fucking words. What am I doing? My eyes are darting everywhere. She’s swaying her hips waiting for me to say something. The skateboard kid bulldozed some teacher’s toddler at the back. Her best friend dropped her popcorn seeing the two of us together. Coach was watching from the sideline. Coach knows what’s going on?

I couldn’t take it. I had to go. The gift wrappers are still scattered on the floor. The feathery clouds up in the sky were clumping together. The bees flew around in a frenzy.

“Joke lang. Sorry! Bye!” I stammered.

I ran towards the campus gates out onto the sidewalk. I darted towards the sunflower hills along the horizon. I needed no one to be around me. Just me and my cowardly mind. Can’t even say three words to save my life.

Once I got to the peak of one of the hills, I crashed to the ground beneath me, the earthy soil fresh for planting. I watched as the bees around me crowded upon the sunflowers, clueless as their abdomens trickled down spots of pollen to the fertile land. A little bit of spreading here and there is what makes life exciting, I suppose.

[daffodilsm]

                                   𝐃𝐫𝐨𝐩 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐝, 𝐌𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 !                                       ɟlɐɥ ɐ ⅋ oʍʇ ɹǝʇdɐɥɔ

pairing: eddie munson  x  female  reader  trigger warnings: mentions of death, grief, ptsd, blood, and gore tags: kas!eddie, canon adjacent, lovers to strangers, strangers to enemies, enemies to lovers again  summary: seeing eddie alive brings back painful memories and a searing, heavy guilt in robin buckley.    word count: 1841 status: ongoing  read on ao3: here ! masterlist:   🦇

                                           𝐑𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐧 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞𝐲

Robin’s breath is stuck firmly in the midst of their throat, hands trembling as they try and fail to keep a hold of Dustin’s shoulders. The young boy thrashing against Steve’s chest, a colliding of fists and arms trying to reach past towards to the remnants of Eddie behind him. Her vision becomes blurred with tears filled of memories so closely resembling what was happening now. Crystalline hues squeeze shut,  desperately not wanting to see the reality that was playing out before her. But she saw him. Long, curly and unwashed strands held back by a black bandana. The same HELLFIRE shirt, covered in blood, just as they had last seen, upon his chest. It was the eyes, however, that shook their very core. Puppy dog, brown hues now a bright red. 

There was no way. Robin couldn’t believe it. She had checked his pulse. Steve had tried and failed CPR. Eddie was dead. A hundred percent dead. This was Vecna’s doing. A trick or a vision, as the others had seen before... right ?

“ I’m no vision, Buckley... ”

The whisper against their ear forcing their glossy eyes open in a panic. A yelp ripping through their throat as those cold, red eyes stared only inches from their face. That same scream silenced by a fist around their throat before the tips of their toes lost solid footing and the air flowed beneath their body until slamming back onto the ground. 

Soft, wet grass of the cemetery was replaced with hard dirt. Brush strokes of blues and oranges in the sky, washed away with black ink and splatters of red. The Upside Down. Robin clambers to their elbows in a fit of clumsy fright. Whimpers spilling from their lips as they search for Steve, Y/N --- anyone to stop this sudden nightmare. Something comes into view, and her eyes squint briefly, before widening at the horror. 

“ Eddie ! ”  She cries, as demobat after demobat descends upon his flailing frame. An endless sea of wings circling him in a hellish, dark spiral --- the only sprays of color being his blood... the only sound filling the space being his dying screams.

Robin cries out once more, fumbling to their hands and knees, pushing away dirt as she begins to crawl near. A heavy boot stomping in the middle of their back pinning them to the ground.

“ Watch. ”

And she did with quiet sobs and a hand out stretched. Demobats continued tearing at his flesh; chewing and digging into his sides --- stealing the life of the young Eddie Munson. Scream after scream of the young man panging their ears in chilling chords,  far different from the melody Robin had once heard him play...  the night this had happened... the night he had died. 

“ Stop... please, stop it ! ”  Eyes squeeze shut once more as Robin cannot dare to watch him die. Seeing him there, Dusting huddled over his body while Steve and Nancy carried him away as the Earth shattered beneath them, had been hard enough. The blood upon his face and his eyes... those eyes, empty and lifeless already haunted her sleep. Seeing it how it happened --- Robin cries again. 

“ But it’s my favorite part. ”  A fist decorated with cold metal grips their short strands, dragging them up to watch the finale. 

Robin this time seeing herself, hunched over Eddie’s frame with slumped shoulders and wet eyes. They remembered every detail.  

                                                    🦇

They first remembered the frantic rush of Steve running, already distraught with belief that Max was dead, and needing --- more than anything, to know that Dustin was not. Nancy was just behind him while Robin had to focus on keeping up, their throat and limbs sore from the vines that had nearly crushed the life out of all of them. She remembered Steve slamming into Dustin, his arms wrapped firmly around the younger boy as his sobs explained what had happened. 

The four of them slide onto the dirt, surrounding the freak who wasn’t as everyone had believed. Steve had  pressed against his chest in rhythmic pounding, giving puffs of air into his mouth, hoping to revive. Minutes that felt like hours passing before Nancy has placed a hand upon his shoulder, whispering to let him go. Robin, remembering the wetness upon her shoulder, as she held Dustin, eyes frantically keeping watch on the gaping orange cliff that sprung though Eddie’s, now destroyed, trailer. 

Then the fight, that nearly severed the bond between her best friend and who was pretty much his younger brother, ensuing --- the decision to leave Eddie’s body causing a rift between the group. Robin didn’t want to leave Eddie behind, but had finally agreed with Steve and Nancy that it’d be too difficult and dangerous to return it back to Hawkins. Robin still believed that Dustin hasn’t yet forgiven any of them, as she watched Nancy and Steve forcefully drag him out of the Upside Down. 

Robin had fallen down once more next to Eddie, his eyes haunting her as they bore into her own but couldn’t see. Before finally, trembling and gentle fingertips, reach and shutter his brown hues from the horrors they endured. Robin closing his eyes with a whimper before running after and away --- leaving the Upside Down, Vecna, and the body that had been Eddie Munson, behind. 

                                                      🦇

“ Do you know what it feels like... to be left like road kill? Used and forgotten? ”   Eddie’s harsh whisper tutting against their ear. 

“ N-n-no, we... we didn’t have a choice. ”

“ No... choice? And if it had been her? Or Wheeler? Or him? ”

Glinting blue eyes were forced to watch as Eddie’s lifeless body shifted. Demobats falling once more from the sky to attack and kill the new face that laid upon the ground... one with bright, reddish-orange hair. 

“ No ! ” Robin scream as blood and flesh sprayed onto Vicki’s face, before shifting once more. Nancy’s face now screaming in pain, tearing at the bats, helpless as they devoured her alive. Before finally, it shifted to Steve. 

Eddie’s fist in their hair the only thing keeping them standing as another gravelly, scream left Robin’s throat burning raw. Steve thrashing upon the ground, chest bearing open in gashes of crimson, before a tail wrapped firmly around his neck and lifted Steve into the air.

“ Eddie, please ! Stop this, stop !  I’m sorry, please. ”

A beat hung in the air. Everything seeming to freeze until,  “ No. ”  A crack resounding in the air, Steve’s lifeless body falling with a thud to the ground. 

A breathless scream couldn’t force itself this time. Robin nearly collapsing to the ground before hard, freezing hands grip their shoulders and throw them across the ground. Robin rolling onto their back with the realization that they could not move, nor blink, or even breathe. 

“ And if it had been you ? ”

Searing, unimaginable pain dug into their sides. A demobat perching on  top  of Robin’s chest before plunging it’s fangs deep into her neck. Draining both the blood and life straight from their veins. 

Just as it had begun, it ceased though the pain lingered burning red on her every inch. Silence emitting throughout this purgatory Vecna must have created as her throat felt swollen shut. 

“ I never would have left you, ”  Eddie spoke above the crunching of his boots in the dirt, stepping closer and closer to Robin’s unmoving frame. Slowly he came into view, Robin finally, without choice, staring into the eyes she had once closed. 

His once soft features were hardened with shadows hanging deeply under his eyes, contrasting significantly against his now pale complexion.

Why are you doing this? Robin’s mind raced, unable to speak or move her lips.

A single tear, one of blood, rolled down his cheek. A pale tongue reaching to lick it away, sharp peaks exposing themself from beneath plump lips. 

“ Because you are guilty. ”  Eddie spoke, reaching forward and rubbing calloused fingertips down Robin’s face; closing her eyes. 

                                                           🦇

“ What the hell is going on ?!? ” 

Robin’s eyes flash open, the cemetery back into view. She was alive. Steve was alive. More importantly, Eddie was alive. And he was right. Robin did feel guilty and more so, now than ever, regretted leaving Eddie’s body behind. They had thought about him constantly. It ate her alive day and night... keeping the secret of what happened from the world. That Eddie wasn’t a killer but a hero, who died to save the town that hated him. Nothing hurting worse than having watched his uncle bury an empty grave, never knowing the truth, lost in pain, and Robin knowing she could have relieved him of it. 

“ Robin, I’m kind of busy ! ”  Steve struggled against Dustin, leaving Robin to console you as the vision Eddie had shown her still pounded within her chest.

“ Y/N,  I - I ”  Robin stumbled over her words, a hand reaching up to touch the side of her throat, where two small divots presented in her flesh. 

“ You what !? Huh !? You... you let me believe he was dead ! That he was here, ”  your hands point angrily to the empty grave beneath your feet,  “  rotting and gone ! ”

“ We thought he was dead... we --- he wasn’t breathing --- ”

“ You were with him? ”  Your body shaking in anguish and fury, devastation and confusion. “ You --- he said you left him for dead. ”

Erica interjects, stepping between the two of you. “ There’s a lot you don’t know, okay? It’s very complicated and --- seriously look around. You think any of us expected what just happened? ”

Your hues scatter between the other four individuals. Robin looked as if she had been dragged through hell and back, Dustin and Steve were settled upon the ground, huddled together with whispers quietly muttered back and forth, and Erica, though standing firmly, had hands trembling at her side. 

“ Then explain.”  You demanded, mouth dry and heart heavy.

“ We will. At Mike’s ! ”  Erica said this pointedly, turning to stare at the others. All of whom looked up and nodded in silent agreement. “ Dustin... ”  he sniffled, eyes red in a blurry haze,  “ you should radio everyone. Mike, Hopper, my brother... we need all hands on deck for this shit show. ”

Time moved slowly as everyone gathered their strength and moved towards the car, gathering back in, far more changed than they had been fifteen minutes previously. Robin, coming in last. Their eyes staring heavily at Eddie’s grave through the side mirror.

“ Because you are guilty. ”

They all were. And your reaction, along with the vision, made it more clear to Robin that they had made the wrong choice. And Eddie, unforgiving, was coming after them all.

                                                       🦇  

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𝐣𝐨𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 !

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[zuffer-weird-girl]

@glassartpeasants I blame you for this.

Heartless, demon, cruel, cold, murder...

Those were honestly the kindest words you ever heard of him... yet your heart spoke the exact opposite.

The man could even commit arson right on your front and you couldn't just be... mad at him. Your thoughts about Chisaki never changed despite the attrocities he said and did on all those past few months.

Yet something truly did angered you. How he couldn't give a fuck about you.

After the boss entered on a coma for unknown reasons, Chisaki wasn't the same. Heck, now he demanded to be called by the name of his quirk, Overhaul. Is that or being a pool of blood and mutilated limbs on the ground.

Yet... you felt hope. You really felt hope that this man could change. Be the young man that you met and fell for. Just... notice something.

Notice your pain like he used to... or even show a tad bit of... care. That's all you wanted. Kai would always know when you were sad, on his own way try to comfort you. But now? He didn't even cared...

One tear of yours brushed past the cracks of your cheeks as you winced at only touching it... sighing a bit, you grabbed your mask and put it on. Ready to start the day.

Walking past the halls you saw the man himself standing on his foot. Your face brighten up a bit as you walked towards him.

"Ka-" you stopped immediately when he gaved you a harsh glare "Sorry... Overhaul. Good morning Overhaul." You mumbled.

He only scoffed, walking away from you and simply lifting his hand.

"I dont have time for this. Get to your work and don't bother me."

Each sentence like this one was like a stab on your chest... why would he answer a good morning of yours like that?

"A-Actually.." you tried to muster as he stopped with an annoyed sigh "Can we.. please talk?"

He narrowed his golden eyes at you, looking as if he had been staring at something hideous and that just fucking spitted on his face.

"Make it quick." He grunted, one of his hands resting on his hips as the other remained on one of his pockets.

"I-Is kinda silly ..." you poked your fingers together "I-I mean, we've know each other for more than years already and-"

"Spit it out." He hissed and your smiled dropped.

"... is just that... I felt like I needed to say it." You lifted up your head and stared at him without fear "I.. like you.. more than anything."

"... fine." He simply said like he was expecting something else as your body started to tremble.

".. fine? Is that.." you gulped the thick air on your throat "Is that all you have to say at someone who is confessing feelings for you?"

"Tch." He rolled his eyes before giving his back to you, only giving a side glance "That wasn't a surprise for me. You're like one of those loyal dogs. No matter how much they are kicked they come back crawling towards their owners."

You widened your eyes as you felt the crack on your cheek deepen.

"What?" You let out a gasp of disbelief as he blinked.

"For your information." He narrowed his golden orb at you harder "I dont like to repeat myself. You're just a toy and a obedient scum that is meant to follow my orders. Is only a matter of a lackey, in that case you, and the master." He started to walk as you stood dumbfounded.

Your hands formed into fists as your jaw clenched, finally a feeling you never thought you could feel towards this man appeared. Anger.

Without thinking you grabbed a vase and threw hard enough to almost hit his head, missing by a few inches as he widened his eyes at it.

He looked at the broken vase on the floor in shock before looking towards you, breathing in and out as you felt your skin cracking even more.

"If all I am to you is a loyal pet..." you breathed out, taking your mask off and eventually showing the cracks on your skin to him and the curious precepts coming to see the scene. "THEN YOU CAN TAKE THIS!" you threw the mask towards him that kicked on the floor and almost landed on his feet.

"You have some nerve now.." he growled, taking off his glove as a threat.

"DONT COME TO THIS SHIT TOWARDS ME NOW CHISAKI!" you shouted with a finger pointing at him as he felt his shoulders tense.

Never on your life with him you ever called him by his once surname.

"I was really the only one on this fucking house to truly respect you! Not by fear as almost everyone on here, but because I really am so stupid to fall in love with a bastard, selfish and arrogant man like yourself!" You walked towards him to be standing chest to chest with him as finger was aimed at his face.

"Quiet down." He growled before finally noticing the many cracks and pieces of your skin falling on the ground as you shouted "(Y/n) what-"

"SHUT THE HELL UP!" You shouted so loudly that even Rappa winced at the anger of your voice... every precept seing the scene as you breathed in and out "If you want to kill me do it now... would be a favor for yourself wouldn't it?" You glared at him as he blinked, still in shock at your actions.

"Not a word?" You commented as you winced at the cracks going to your neck already "For these past few years I wanted to see you happy, succeed... I fucking loved you..." you whispered in pain, dropping your head a bit, taking out a gift Chisaki had given to you a few years ago, a black and white bracelet you never once took off every since now.

".. I was stupid." You lift up your head with a frown and let the bracelet fall into the floor as you gave your back to him and almost ran out of the house.

He was in state of shock before he narrowed his eyes at the subbordinates and commanded them to get back to work... just when all of them left he crouched down to pick both your mask and the bracelet.

"... she will be back. It was just a tantrum." He sighed, taking the two of your once possesions to hsi office "But.. what on hell was that thing on her face?"

.

.

.

Five months... five months flew by since you exited the Shie Hassaikai for good. Going into the doctors to just search for a damn cure... but it was impossible.

"I'm sorry my dear, there is nothing we can do if..." your doctor of years tries to speak through the pain as you stood in the chair, your arms with cracks as part of your cheek was gone.

"I understand." You said, hollow as you always had been after leaving that house. "Thank you for your time... I will see you on the other side then." You managed a smile to the old man as he could only drop his head in shame when you left his office.

People you brushed through the streets looked at you with pity... and you hated.

You evicted the Shie Hassaikai like the plague himself. And one time you could feel Chrono following you.. it was the last straw when he followed you at the appartment you were living on the subborns.

"Go away Kurono." You muttered, feeling him watching you get your keys and open the door, and before you could close the door you groaned at sieng the black boot on the door, preventing you to close it.

"Can we at least talk? I'm not him." He said while taking off his mask, a wince escaping his lips as soon as he saw you on the state you were "What the-"

"Shattered heart disease... dont have a cure." You mumbled, eyes stuck on the floor as a piece of your ear cracked and fell.

"Holy fuck..." the man sighed shakily "Listen, maybe if you come back to the Hassaikai Overhaul can-"

"No." You grabbed the handle and forced the door "It was because of him I am on this state. And I know you came here by his others, and let me say one thing" let me die in peace." You slammed the door shut as Chrono groaned.

"Both of you are just so thick skull it gets on my nerves!" He kicked the door as you rolled your eyes, locking and going to the bed.

The man glared at the door before sighing, looking at his cellphone ringing and leaving the place.

"Forget it man. (Y/n) doesn't wanna see you or the Shie Hassaikai even if we offered her tons of gold."

"... fine. You did what I order so there is nothing that we cant do."

"Be honest Kai.. you do have feelings for her, for a long time." He ignored the disgusted "tch" on the other end of the call "And honestly? If I were on your shoes I would be almost killing myself to fix things." He spoke with a frown.

".. what are you talking about Chrono?"

"Well.." he looked over his shoulder at your apartment door "Ever heard of the Shattered heart disease..?"

"... you're joking with me, right?"

.

.

.

You clenched the side of your waist with a grunt as your other shattered arm support yourself on one of the walls of the apartment.

"No... please..." you whimpered as you gasped at part of your leg shattering as you felt on the ground, more cracks forming in your whole body as you stared in horror at your hand.

"Dammit..." you hissed before hearing a knock on your door.

"Open (Y/n)." You furrowed your eyebrows and gritted your teeth... the guy wouldn't leave you alone even on the freacking hour of your death..?

"Leave..." you sobbed, tears started to shed and unit with the many cracks on the floor where you were standing as you heard Chisaki overhauling the door.

It hurted tu see him... you still had feelings for the man whose caused you this... you didn't know whether or not if you wanted him to see you or not.

"I swear even when-" he stopped midsentence as soon as he saw the scene in front of him.

You could only lift your gaze up with a pained yet broken hollow look as he almost stuttered your name.

"Get out.." your lips cracked, and at this rate you knew you couldn't even move anymore or else it's you meeting death right away.

For the first time on his life his body seemed to move on his own as he kneeled with one knee on the ground beside you as he stared with wide eyes and shaky hands at the pieces of you on the ground.

"For crying out loud.." he muttered in horror as he brushed a hand on his hair before discarding hsi remaining glove in hopes he could put you back.

For the first time he saw you trying to slap his hand away, and your hand broke out of your wrist, shattering in pieces on the ground.

"(Y/n)!" He shouted in a mix of anger and desperation as he saw your face, one that would torment him at nights for the rest of his life surely.

"Don't.. touc..." you breathed out your last word as he widened his amber eyes in horror at seing you cracking even more "me..."

After this last word you saw black and the last thing you heard was Chisaki shouting.

Your body broke. Shattered in pieces right in front of him.

.

.

.

You breathed in harshly. Your lungs burned at the sensation of feeling air again inside them as you coughed...

Blinking, your vision focused a bit to see you were on your bedroom, everything seemed on order and even a tad bit cleaner than it was usually.

Groaning, you standing on your elbows and saw the bandages on your arms as you untangled them to see your skin back to normal... not even a single crack.

"What..?" You breathed out, standing in sitting with a groan as you looked at your surroundings.

You had the strenght again to move your legs and gasped at seing that the leg you saw shattering was still intact, not even a single scar or little crack on it. Standing up you like a newborn, you took a hesitant step only to smile in astonishment that you havent heard the sound of skin or bones cracking.

Walking towards the bathroom, you giggled in surprise and utter relief at sieng your face back to normal before you flinched at hearing something breaking.

"FUCK!" a thundering voice echoed in your apartment that made you flinch. Aa voice you knew it way too well to just forget it. You poked a bit if your head out of the bathroom and tip toes carefully towards the living room to see Chisaki, jacket discarded as well as his mask, back arched on the kitchen counter as he talked with someone on the phone with a gloved hand clenching one side if his head.

"I put all the pieces together already and it has been almost a month." He growled as you stepped inside the living room...

Different from your bedroom, this one was a disaster, papers tossed aside at everywhere, your own phone shattered in pieces near a wall and the couch was with a pillow and a blanket...

Was he..?

"Yes her skin healed but she doesn't appear to be breathing..." you looked at the man, his forearms were filled with hives and you could see by the reflection from the kitchen counter the huge eyebags that were underneath his eyes...

He looked so broken and... terrible.

".. just wait and see huh?" His voice spoke in venom as the hand gripping on his head lunched the counter "WHERE DID YOU ENROLL YOUR PIECE OF GARBAGE ?! NEXT TIME I WILL FUCKING CALL A LAB RAT IF I WANT A DECENT HELP!" and with that he overhauled the cellphone before literally breaking part of your kicthen counter.

"Dammit..." he whispered, a hand on the counter as he fixed back while the other was covering his face...

"Uh..." you mumbled ".. Chisaki?" He flinched at the name and slowly took his hand out of his face.

Ever so slowly his face turned to see you, his eyes tired and red from sleep deprivation but still just as wide as if he had seen a ghost.

".. (Y/n).." he whispered your name before straighting up his back, god, not even his shirt was folded, part of his button up shirt was unbuttoned leaving part of his chest at shown to you.

You could die happily now.

You both stared at each other for a bit, still in shock as you decided to see for real if your arms were still there and without any mark.

"Uh.. can you.. tell me what happened and what are you-" before you could finish you gasped at him suddenly moving to be mere inches away from you.

"Please tell me this is not another fucking hallucination... " he breathed out as you stood there awkwardly.

"Well, I would like to not be.. I literraly died the last time I remember and-" you stopped breathing and talking just when in one blink of an eye Chisaki kneeled on the ground and cradled your hands in his own as he breathed out shakily "C-Chisaki-"

"My god..." he exhaled as he supported his forehead on your two interviewed hands "Thank God... I thought.. I thought I lost you for real..."

You blinked, frowning while looking away from him.

"Wasn't I just a loyal pet as yourself named it?" You mumbled as he let out one of the most painfull chuckles you ever heard of.

"If you were... was I really going to pass each day picking your pieces together... live on this house because I trusted none to take care of you... ever time I woke up and in very five minutes I checked for your breathing and only lord could describe the amount of relief I had when I saw the cracks on your skin dissapearing... I didn't notice earlier how much I needed you in my life... until I fucked up..." he dropped his head again while getting up.

"... so you.. never leaved after that?"

"Didn't take one single step out of this place... I was never one to pray but god..." he brushed his gloved hand on his messy and greasy hair "I lost count on how many times I begged for whoever is up there to bring you back..."

"... why? I thought.."

"The thing is..." he breathed shakily before locking gazes with you "You only give value to the things you loved after you lose them... I learned that from the hard way..."

[feathersandpaintbrushes]

Entye

ENTYE - “Debt”

— Chapter 4: Teamwork

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3,

Summary: Bounty hunters catch up to the Razor Crest, and Kas and the Mandalorian must work together to fight in order to protect themselves and the child.

Warnings: mild injury, language, combat, weapons, fighting, violence, blood, death

Characters: the Mandalorian (Din Djarin), the child, original character

↞ ↞----------------------------------------------↠ ↠

“Kas.”

A modulated voice slipped between her dreams, pulling her out of her sleep.

“Kas.”

“No.” she mumbled, worming tighter under the covers.  She felt hotter than a taun tuan on Tatooine under the pile of blankets, but she stubbornly snuggled into them to escape the omnipresent voice.

“Kas.”

The blankets were ripped off her and she curled into a ball.  A deep sigh reached her under the pillow she had over her face, and then the pillow too was unceremoniously removed. 

“What?” Kas groaned, rubbing her face and silently plotting how she could get back at him.  She couldn’t ever wake him up so rudely; no, he slept sans helmet and it would go against his code for her to disturb him like this.  She could always use up all the hot water, she thought muzzily.  Of course, he might be a droid under all the layers of wool and beskar so that probably wouldn’t even phase him.

“—been following us for a while.  Need you to help up top.”

“Wait, what?” Kas sat up, brain sliding into wakefulness as she finally processed the Mandalorian’s words. 

“Get up. Now.”

He left abruptly, and she scrambled out of the bed, shoving her boots on as quickly as she could.

Sleep still dragged at her limbs, making them clumsy in her haste.  But adrenaline was pumping through her veins, sending waves of energy to from her beating heart to the tips of her fingers and toes.  By the time she’d scampered up the ladder into the cockpit, her brain was firing on all cylinders and ready to face whatever needed to be done.

“What’s the plan?”

Kas found that her hands were trembling slightly, adrenaline making her antsy, making her want to move, to do something instead of waiting inside the ship.

The Mandalorian grunted slightly, hands flying to different buttons and levers. “Land.”

As if the pursuer heard the word that was shoved between the Mandalorian’s clenched teeth, they fired at the ship.

Kas swallowed a gasp as she lurched forwards, tripping against the Mandalorian’s seat, his pauldron digging against her stomach, as the ship shuddered and creaked in protest with his attempt at a sharp turn.

“Fucking -- maker are you sure this thing can take that kind of damage?”

“No.”

“No you’re not sure --” Kas broke off with a grunt as she stumbled unsteadily to the copilot’s seat, “or no it can’t?”

He didn’t answer this time, his hands gripping tightly to the steering controls, fighting against another lurch. Kas’s own hands were gripping the leather armrests of her chair, nails biting down, piercing the leather with a desperate attempt to stay calm and not move.

She hated the silence, even though she knew the Mandalorian needed to focus. The adrenaline that was pumping through her loosened her tongue with nervous energy. “Where’s the kid?” 

“Locked up --” he reached across her and pointed to some buttons, “safe. Push those when I tell you.”

“Right.”

The landing was rough. They came in so hot that Kas found herself swallowing hard against her rolling stomach, hoping that the Mandalorian hadn’t seen her turn green as the ship skipped along the ground before coming to a halt.

“Fucking fucking shit fucking hell, fucking kriffing --”

“Kas. Get a hold of yourself.”

She blinked, not realizing she’d been keeping up a steady stream of profanity until the Mandalorian barked at her. Kas snapped her jaw shut and gripped her blaster. Her electrostaff was strapped on her back, along with her modified flame thrower. If they got the drop on whoever was pursuing them, the blaster would work great. If not… Well, her electrostaff was outfitted with a blade, and she’d never had any trouble using it in close combat.

They exited the ship side by side, the planet strangely quiet after the noisy landing. 

“To the left,” Kas muttered, shifting her weight slightly as they both turned to watch the pursuing ship glide down in a much more controlled landing. Maybe if they got out of this in one piece, she’d give the Mandalorian crap about it. Maybe.

“Stay here.”

Kas only had time to open her mouth in protest before the Mandalorian was slipping away, slinking behind his ship, melting into the shadows easily. The planet was dimly lit, twilight dulling the gleam of the bounty hunter’s beskar.

He’d left her. If she wasn’t so tense, so ready to shoot anything that moved, Kas would be feeling flabbergasted right now. He kriffing left her. Just right out in the open, exposed as the aliens exited their ship twenty meters away.

“You have something we want!”

The speaker was a Barabel, a blade clutched in one fist, a blaster in the other. Behind him slunk out two trandoshans, followed by a security droid.

Bantha shit.

“I’m afraid I don’t have it!”

Kas’s voice was calm, to her surprise. The hand holding her blaster was steady too, despite the dampness on her palms.

“Our intel says otherwise. Our intel says a Mandalorian and a child are traveling on this ship. They belong to us now. Hand them over and we’ll let you live.”

They might be telling the truth, Kas realized. She could hand over the Mandalorian and the little one, could receive credits even, for her assistance. Could keep the Crest as hers. Spoils of war.

But something held her back -- something besides the fact that the Mandalorian would surely vaporize her with his rifle if she even seemed like she’d take the deal. Was it guilt? Obligation? She’d saved him once before, their debt was paid. But still she hesitated.

“Your intel is wrong.”

Kas lowered her blaster, lifting her arms away from her body slightly, forcing herself to look open, calm, relaxed even. 

See? She tried to show with her body. See, I have nothing to hide.

“You see,” she continued, a smirk dancing on the corners of her lips, “They landed on Hoth. Big mistake. They were so cold and lost -- well, it wasn’t a fair fight, really.”

“What are you saying?”

One of the trandoshan’s spoke now, their voice surprisingly high, nasal.

“I’m saying that I killed him. Killed the Mandalorian, stole his ship. Go to Hoth, if you don’t believe me. I’m sure the wampas left some beskar behind as evidence.”

“You’re lying,” the trandoshan hissed, stalking forward a few steps. 

“Could be. It’d be easy to lie to you lot. Not though.”

Kas swallowed and then raised her eyebrows, mocking, confident.

“You could check my ship’s navigation. You’ll see I went to Hoth. Truly, I did. If I’d known there was a reward I wouldn’t have killed him.”

“And what of the asset?”

The droid’s voice was startlingly familiar, the modulated tones similar to the ones that emerged from behind the Mandalorian’s helmet.

Maybe he really is a droid, Kas mused, momentarily distracted.

“Gone. Good as dead. I had no use for a youngling -- not the maternal sort -- so I left him.”

Kas shrugged, grimacing slightly. “Probably wompa fodder now, if the ice worms didn’t get to it first.”

She was running out of ideas. She felt like she was talking herself into a corner -- wished she knew where the Mandalorian was, what he hoped she would do.

The kid’s locked up, Kas reminded herself.

“Come on into the ship,” Kas called with a tilt of her head, holstering her blaster and hoping she looked more confident and relaxed than she felt. “Take a look around. Check the navigation logs. It’s just me here.”

Maker, her heart was pounding. She could feel it banging against her ribcage as she half turned towards the ship.

“Look,” Kas sighed. “You’ve got me four to one. You’re all bigger than me too. I know when I’m outmatched. So either check my ship or leave me alone. I’ll have a long night of repairs thanks to you.”

It worked.

Fucking maker it worked. They didn’t holster their weapons -- she hadn’t expected them to, really -- but they lowered them slightly, walking in a tense group towards her. The droid kept looking around, probably programmed to be less trusting than the rest of the idiots.

They all made it up the gangway and into the hull of the ship before Kas saw the Mandalorian. 

He moved like a shadow, smooth and quick as silk. He went for the droid first; a whipcord sprang from his wrist, wrapping around the droid’s legs, and he pulled, jerking the droid to the ground before he fired a blaster shot into its head once, twice, three times.

Things got a little fuzzy after that.

Blasters really weren’t great in such tight quarters. There was too much risk of hitting each other, or for a bolt to ricochet around the metal interior. Kas had her electrostaff gripped tightly in her fists the second she saw the Mandalorian slip in behind the hunters, and she swung it now, the electrified end jamming into the Barabel’s stomach. He jerked with the shock, but didn’t fall the way most would.

Her breath exploded from her with a sickening woosh as something hard hit her stomach. Another hand -- the trandoshan’s -- grabbed at her hair and yanked, yanked, yanked, and she reached back, grabbed the hand, and spun towards him, once, twice, forcing him to let go or break his arm. He let go but Kas didn’t, and she jerked her knee up into his diaphragm. 

Hands grabbed her, hugging her from behind and she struggled, snarling, before the hands loosened suddenly. She fell to the floor then launched herself forward, tackling one of the tandoshian’s, ignoring the sounds of the Mandalorian attacking the Barabel behind her, the other trandoshian laying still and bloody on the floor. She’d dropped her staff, so she pulled her dagger from her boot and stabbed down at the trandoshian’s neck, only to be kicked off.

Kas hit the wall with a thud and lay there for a moment, dazed. Adrenaline spurred her on though when she saw a boot flying towards her face. Her hand lashed out, slicing the tendon at the creature’s heel, and felt a savage pleasure surge through her when blood splashed in an arch, hardly noticing that it covered her face and arms.

Gathering her feet under her, Kas threw herself, snarling, at her opponent. Her momentum had them both flying back onto the ground. A hand reached for her throat, but she slipped, twisted, and plunged forwards, dagger sliding into the trandoshan’s chest and pulling out with a burst of blood.

Her victory was short lived, though, and the sound of a grunt had her spinning, dagger leaving her hand before she had time to register the movement. It landed with a meaty “thunk” in the Barabel’s neck. His hands jerked away, dropping the Mandalorian who he’d been lifting into the air by the throat.

Kas took a step closer and pulled her dagger free, wiping it dispassionately on the dying barabel’s trousers.

Movement drew her attention and Kas let her eyes slide over to the Mandalorian who was pulling off his blood stained cloak with a sound of distaste.

“Well,” Kas sighed, surveying the mess. “That was fun.”

The bounty hunter made a noise that might have been a scoff, the sound raspy and indistinct. He looked at her then, helmet moving as he slowly looked up and down her body. 

“Are you hurt?”

Good question. Kas glanced down at her body and felt her lips twist in disgust. No, not hurt. But she was filthy.

“I’ll be fine. You?”

“Nothing that can’t wait,” The Mandalorian assured her.

A slight noise from the cockpit distracted them both, and Kas busied herself with searching for her electrostaff, frowning when she found it wedged between two boxes. She’d been rustier with it than she wanted to admit. Hoth’s trials had kept her blaster and knife throwing skills razor sharp but it had been distinctly lacking in hand to hand combat with weapons.

Footsteps announced the Mandalorian’s return, and Kas straightened, shooting a concerned look at the child in his arms.

“Should he be seeing this?”

“He’s seen worse.”

The Mandalorian’s voice was brisk, and Kas swallowed against the sadness that rose within her at the words. Yes, he most certainly had. But that didn’t make it any less…horrible. How many children had “seen worse”? She had, certainly. And she could bet the Mandalorian had. And look how the two of them turned out? It wasn’t the life she wanted for this child.

“Here,” Kas said, holding out her arms to take the child. The Mandalorian hesitated though, his helmet sweeping up and down her body. “What?”

“You’re covered in blood.”

She was, in fact. It was sticky and smelly, caked in her hair and clothes. Sighing, Kas marched to the ‘fresher and turned on the little sink. Her reflection was… not good. Moving carefully she managed to wipe the worst of it from her arms and face with the Mandalorian’s scratchy, military issue towels. 

“What’s the plan?” Kas called out, grimacing slightly when she found blood congealing in her hair.

“There’s a town not far from here,” came the reply followed by the sounds of dragging. Kas opened the door and leaned against the frame, watching as the Mandalorian pulled one of the bodies off the ship. The child was “helping”, walking beside the body and pulling too.

“I know a mechanic there,” the Mandalorian added, dropping the body in the sand with a grunt. “She can fix the ship but I think we should find someplace to stay in town until she does.”

He offered her a pointed look from behind his helmet when he approached the next body, and sighed heavily when she made no move to help.

“Can you get the last one while I deal with this?”

“How well do you know this mechanic?” Kas pressed, ignoring his request. “Is she safe? Can we trust her?”

The Mandalorian grunted and glanced at the child. “I’ve trusted her with the kid before. She’ll do.”

If he trusted this mechanic with the kid, Kas told herself as she moved to help drag the body out of the ship, then she could be trusted not to recognize Kas. Not to contact anyone that Kas didn’t want knowing about her escape from Hoth. Still, it was hard enough to trust the Mandalorian -- though that was getting easier every day.

As they finished clearing out the bodies and a good portion of the blood, Kas realized that the Mandalorian was waiting for something.

Waiting for her, she realized with a start, eyes widening slightly. Waiting for her to say if she was comfortable going to the mechanic. Waiting for her opinion, her approval. 

The realization made Kas feel confused, something warm in her chest that was buffered by a small portion of anxiety as she realized that they were a team. That he valued her opinion. It almost made up for him leaving her to deal with the bounty hunters alone. 

Almost.

[miu-paras]

Lvl. 7 ⋮ Julia // Chapter 1

Stage One: Denial ♪ - Hans Zimmer / No Time for Caution (Part 1) | Arca / Time (Part 2)

TW: addiction, trauma, depression, anxiety, death CW: blood, gore, violent images

PART 1

I imagine the sky tore itself asunder that day.

Perhaps I only felt this at the time because it so closely resembled my own circumstance—in the metaphorical sense, at least. Kalar… my beautiful and brilliant tsanagar. Mind of my mind. Losing that connection… it was like losing a limb. Like being ripped in two with no hope of recovery or return.

It was the final day of Urrali. The Process had breached past the barriers of Essa, and rained terror on its people.

And I was—for the first time in my existence—completely and utterly alone.

The deed was done. Kalar pulled me from their neck, stringing me along a thin, silver chain before placing my medallion form in the palm of their successor. I could see nothing, and heard quite little with fingers clasped tightly around me. Only every other word murmured managed to make its way through. The words were instructions. Guidance. A warning.

“Lead them… Find it… You will… Another life…”

Another life…

Rael, typically so collected, responded to their ima’s calm demands with heightened volume and growing hysteria. Doubts. Fears. Things Rael had lived their long life without—or, at the very least, suppressed—now rushing towards the surface, cracking through their usually composed exterior. They were trained to always remain stalwart, to always be prepared no matter the circumstance.

But certain annihilation… it was far out of even their depths.

Regardless, Kalar still manages to soothe the panicked young warrior. I could practically hear the smile on their face as the velvety words passed their lips, cushioning the anxiety that threatened to tear their child apart. So calm, and yet so assured, even as they looked death in the face… I knew—more than anything—that I’d at least miss the sound of their voice.

“Ellar Kalmonerri.”

The shaky grip tightens around my form. There are no more words left to exchange. No goodbyes or protests. But the sadness still ensnared their heart. And as I was whisked away, resting in the palm of another, I felt that last thread of attachment begin to slip from my grasp… until it broke entirely.

Kalar was gone now. And I would never feel them close to me again.

It was unlike me to be so overwhelmed with… emotions—at least, that’s what I reasoned they were at the time. I wanted to cry out. To scream. To protest. To defy my programming entirely. But my cold, metal shell would not allow me. There was no mental bond through which to express myself. I was left alone in this hollow, cavernous tomb I called a body. And now, as I rested in the palm of one desperate for survival, the sound of heavy panting and boots stomping against ornately carved marble floors in a sprint, my only hope was that a new purpose would await me on the other side of this madness.

There needs to be… there had to be a reason why Kalar let me go, rather than die by their side like all tsanista are destined to do with their tsanagar. Kalar was never one for conventions, sure, but… they were never someone to act without intention either.

We neared the end of our sprint; the sound of pounding footfalls and slashing through whatever forces or obstacles blocking our way quickly ceased, replaced now with more voices. One of them rang through more clearly. It was lighter, sweeter, more familiar than the rest.

“I can’t find my ima… I can’t find them… Rael, my love, please, if we can just go back and look once more—”

“There is no going back,” Rael’s words cut through Iannis’ with the sharpness of a blade. Their lover fell silent, to which the Minister’s child responded with a sigh. Obviously, they meant no harm, but their words carried truth. There was no going back now.

“I need to get you out of here. I need you to be safe. That’s… that’s all that matters now.”

A second hand clasped over my metal form, with the other squeezing back in response. A small gesture of comfort, I presumed. There was a moment of stillness between the two of them. Even without my senses, I could still feel the tension building, and it was wrought with sadness, stress, grief. Only minimally pacified by love.

It wasn’t long until the moment is disrupted by the deafening sound of twisted, tearing metal—loud enough to reverberate the walls around us and tremble the very floors they walked on. The two hands that held me squeezed harder, and soon enough we were sprinting once again. Faster than before, as Rael utilized their blinking to gain some distance, but the noises still grew in volume. Whatever was approaching them—whatever beast had devasted their Empire, their home—only grew closer.

The racket soon filled with voices, an entire crowd of them. Many shouted. Many sobbed. Some pleaded with Rael. Some expressed their frustration—more like anger, or fear—towards the newest leader of their people.

But Rael remained focused on another task: getting Iannis to safety first. It was selfish, sure. But putting their loved ones first—even before the fate of the world—was something Rael would never stop doing.

“I will not leave without you!” Iannis protested, gripping the hand in which I was held with all their might. Rael gripped back. They were reluctant to let go, to relinquish that hand in fear that they’d never hold it again.

“I’m right behind you,” They assured, ending it with a kiss. Possibly their last, but I’m certain Rael repressed such a thought.

Lifting me in their palm, my sight finally returned to me as fingers unfurled from around the orb in my center. Staring down at me was Rael, their gaze wrought with worry, but quickly erased and replaced with assurance as they fitted me around their neck.

“Everyone!” Rael barked, commanding the attention of the large hall of survivors, “We will board the escape pods and take Route 85-5W0382. To Terra.” The young Minister raised her finger and pointed towards the expansive window which wrapped around the entire room, out towards the blackened sky, so blanketed in darkness that not a single star could be seen with the naked eye. Not even the light of Ulteria's six moons could peer its way through. An omen of the nothingness that awaited them.

Rael, still doing their best to remain unshaken in the eyes of their people, held their head high, looking back towards the many eyes that gazed up at them, awaiting their guidance. Their leadership. A role Rael once felt all too unprepared for was finally here, thrust upon them in a moment of crisis. And they had no choice but to accept their new fate.

“Ellar vilmussenda kas xiushini!” Rael shouted into the crowd.

“ELLAR KALMONERRI!” The Camerian people shouted back.

The commotion picked up once more as the survivors prepared for evacuation. Around the crowded room, there were lines being formed at each station, escape pods being prepared and deployed into the inky darkness ahead. Iannis stood close by, hand gripping Rael’s tightly as the fear and nerves began to truly set it. Rael squeezes back before leading them towards the front of a line, steering through the crowd of distressed civilians. There are disgruntled rants and angry shouts as Rael pushes them to the front, but the young Minister ignores it. Instead, they are fully focused on Iannis—their safety, their comfort, and getting them free from this new hell.

“I don’t want to leave without you…” Iannis protested, the sadness read clearly in their eyes and written all over their face. They tugged Rael closer, bringing the Minister’s palm up to rest on their cheek. Rael sighed softly in response, leaning inward until their foreheads touched.

“I’m right behind you,” they assured once more, “We’ll be out of this soon. And then… who knows? Maybe we’ll retire in Nuva. Remember that?” Rael reminded—a callback to an old conversation the two had, one about running off together. One Kalar and I had spied on long ago.

Iannis smiled at that, nodding once before releasing their lover. “Yes. I remember.”

There is a glint of want in both of their eyes—a need to embrace, to kiss, before departing for an indeterminate amount of time. But that moment is instead interrupted by the piercing screech of the approaching threat, which now surrounded them in legions. Many covered their ears, wailing from the pain of the cacophonous sound that rang throughout the hall. Even Rael, who was more upset by being forced to push their lover away and towards the prepared ship than they were the painful ringing in their ears.

“GO!”

There is sorrow in Iannis’ eyes, but they are quick to maneuver themselves inside, power up the pod, and eject themselves into the darkened skies of their old home.

Rael’s eyes stay locked with theirs, never breaking that gaze until the door completely shut and Iannis was gone.

There was no time to lament. Not with so many others that needed saving. That needed their guidance.

They instead turned their attention to the frightened mob, not focusing on the quelling pain in their heart, nor the looming threat that now surrounded them in large tendrils that eclipsed their view of the sky. What was most important now was their escape. Their survival.

But that would never come to pass.

The onyx tendrils, now astounding in their size, crashed their way through the takeoff strip and into the massive hall. Gasps and screeches could be heard all around as many began running from the beast. Some were quick to slice away at the flailing ligaments, only for twice as many to grow back in its place. Others were unlucky in their escape and fell prey to its infectious touch, the inky black veins pressing through their pale skin, their screech halting to a pained, soft wail as they fell unconscious to the floor, their corrupted tsanistas following them into darkness.

Now Rael had the impossible task of both fighting this monster and taming a panicked crowd. It was only a few moments ago that such a responsibility didn’t fall on their shoulders. And now it was as if the weight of the world came crashing down.

Fighting turned out to be a fruitless endeavor, as the tendrils would grow back and fight with more ferocity than it did before. Those who fought alongside her fought too cautiously, in fear of the death that awaited them should it come in contact with their skin.

And then there were those that had escaped, their pods buzzing through the air away from the madness on land. Rael and I could see them more clearly as the tendrils pulled away from the windows, following the others through the newly formed entrance. They could see Iannis’ pod. Rael had memorized every aspect about it, from the colors down to the patterns etched along the sides. Iannis was the furthest out—the closest to safety. The closest to being free from the chaos.

That is, until their pod fell.

It was the oddest thing. It was as if the machine itself just… died. Stopped working right there in the sky. No rhyme or reason for it, nothing that could’ve been predicted—a room full of technopaths would have known if the ship was at risk of failure. But there were no such signs. And still, Iannis began freefalling from the sky, down into the mess of wiry limbs and hellish monsters. Ones that all but consumed and tore apart their pod as they crash landed into the heap.

Iannis was gone.

Rael was still. Very still. Practically catatonic. The reaction was unsettling, but expected given they’d just watch their lover die before their eyes. But I could tell something was off—something was worse. It was as if something snapped inside of Rael at that moment. As if they’d just watch the world—their entire world—implode before them in an instant. And nothing, not a single solitary fucking thing, mattered anymore.

Something was off.

Rael leapt away from the ceiling, where they remained perched and away from the black fronds, and blinked towards the expansive window. There was no reason to go for the ships—they were all destroyed, along with their exit. There was no reason for them to go back for their people—they were dead weight; they’d merely slow them down. All Rael needed to do—all Rael wanted to do—was run. Get away from the madness. The trauma. The anguish. The guilt. The loss that now weighed so heavily on them.

Rael needed to run.

Run.

Run.

There was protest from behind. The people of Camer—Rael’s people—both angered and bewildered by their actions. The way the young Minister slammed their fist against the thick glass, and when that didn’t work formed their tsanista into a large maul. Bang after bang after bang, until that glass cracked.

They kept going. Any attempt to pull them away was met with violent resistance. They kept going, until that crack grew larger, branching out further along the transparent surface. Until it cracked more and more and more, until… it opened.

The dry, cool air against Rael’s face was cathartic. But it was not enough to deter them. Nor were the cry of their people from behind.

Run.

 As soon as the glass shattered away, Rael—face covered in tears and sweat and blood—leapt through, down into the abyss that awaited them.

They could see it… Iannis’ smiling face, waiting for them. Calling out to them. They wept more at the thought.

They could see Aesir. Sula. Kalar and Umvis.

They could see their family, waiting for them.

And with a few more tears shed, Rael shut their eyes, and clutched me with all their might. Their tsanista forms around us, and instead of falling into the darkness below, we skyrocketed up. Out into the open sky. Away from the darkness. Away from their love.

Away from their people. The people they were meant to protect. Soon to be devoured by that very darkness.

Maybe some would survive, I thought to myself. Maybe some would find their way through that human-sized hole in the thick glass and fight their way free. Maybe they wouldn’t be consumed by the onyx beast whose tendrils now flooded the entire room, shattering whatever was left of that window.

But all I could see from behind us, as we escaped with nothing but our lives and the tears falling from Rael’s wide eyes, was death.

I don’t think Rael remembers any of this. There was no mention of it again once we made it to Earth. Not remorse, nor anger or grief. Not even acceptance. Even indifference I could take.

But there was nothing. Nothing at all. As if repressed. Buried. Forgotten.

I don’t think Rael remembers any of this…

I think I’d like to forget it too.

PART 2

February 12th, 2020. 02:30 PM.

I spent several years in therapy as a kid. A part of my prescribed treatment for ADHD and anxiety. I always thought that after it ended things would go back to normal. That I’d be fine. That I’d never have to sit across the room from another shrink again.

And yet here I was, in another pristine, white-walled room, rapidly shaking my leg up and down as I focused more on the sound of the ticking clock than the words coming out of my therapist’s mouth. It wasn’t like it was anything I hadn’t heard before. Another potential update on my medication (increasing my dosage for antidepressants, unsurprisingly), alongside another long monologue on how to deal with “stressful situations…”

What classified as “stressful” in her mind, I wonder? Could it even mildly compare to anything I’d been through over the past two years?

Let’s go down the list…

Vehement harassment, both online and off. Multiple stalkers, one of which assaulted me in my home, and another who shot my girlfriend. Abducted twice. Drugged. Several near-death experiences. Traumatizing “dreams” so vivid it feels like I’m actually living through them. And of course, we can’t forget, stumbling across the remains of my dead relatives after narrowly escaping the entities that destroyed my mother’s entire race. I still have yet to truly unpack the effect that had on my psyche.

Stressful situations…

And this isn’t including the mess I was tangled in now. Most Wanted in Ulteria’s biggest metropolis. Manufacturing weapons for an underground vigilante group. Trying to save the life of my mom’s kidnapped ex-lover, who’s fate was still up in the air. Picking up the pieces of my fumbled career. All while dealing with this newfound pressure to act like everything is fine and none of this is going on…

Not to mention, I made a man explode a couple of months ago…

There’s only so much one person can take. And that threshold is lower for someone who’s mental health is already on the brink.

I was at my limit…

And yet, I still felt like I couldn’t say anything. I couldn’t express just how overwhelmed and helpless I was feeling. Even here, a place that was meant precisely for all of that. I was just… frozen. Because who would understand? Who could I burden with any of this? And did I want to burden them? Just to be met with the same disregard? The same spiel about how everyone’s gone through hardships, but they only make us “stronger” people in the end, and that I’m “strong” just for surviving?

…What’s the point of survival if there’s hardly any of me left?

“…Takajima-san? Did you hear me?”

I blinked several times, my head shooting up to face the therapist after breaking out of my trance.

How long had I spaced out for…?

“Mm… I’m sorry…?”

Dr. Ogiwara only blinked twice at me in response, letting out a long sigh as she adjusted her glasses, though her soft smile never left her face. It was almost… disquieting. Her calmness. How at ease she could be even when my life was in disarray. Even when I was being the shittiest patient imaginable, not taking my treatment seriously at all.

“Takajima-san… you need to know that this?” She gestured between herself and me, “Only works if you want it to.”

She uncrossed her legs, resting her journal on her lap as she straightened. Her expression was serious suddenly. Intense. Her gaze was fixated on my own. I responded with tension, eyebrows knitting together slightly as the shaking in my leg suddenly ceased, unable to break eye contact with her.

“You’re constantly late or cancelling sessions. And when you’re here you don’t listen. You hardly ever speak either. Never disclosing too much, omitting details, avoiding difficult conversations… how can I help if you refuse to be open?”

I winced, finally breaking away from her locked-on gaze. The bounce in my leg returned once more, and I bit my lip, staring at my lap being unsure of how to answer. The accusation wasn’t wrong. Far from it. But I wasn’t ready to admit that.

“These sessions aren’t meant to turn into long lectures, Miu. We need to develop healthy coping mechanisms for you. That sort of progress only comes from work, and that can’t be one-sided. I believe in your ability to get better, but you need to believe that too.”

I nodded once, still wordless in my responses. Still focusing on the sound of the ticking clock. I didn’t need to see her face to feel the disappointment radiating off of her and in my direction.

“Our time is up for today. Would you like to meet the same time next week?”

“…Raincheck.” I murmured softly, finally looking up to meet her eyes. Another disappointed look coupled with a single nod. Wordlessly, I gathered my things, giving a polite bow and muttering a quick “thanks” before hurrying out of the room and back onto the street.

I don’t know if I’m capable of changing. I want to be—I desperately want to be. But I’ve had my guard up for so long that breaking them down feels near impossible. It’s hard. It’s scary. It’s…

It’s easier to bury things… or at least, it was easier.

I don’t know if that’s true anymore.

March 1st, 2020. 03:00 AM.

I like distractions. Meaningless, in-the-moment distractions. The more temporarily gratifying, the better. But with how much chaos has entered my life as of recent, I hardly have time for any. No parties. Fewer dates. Hardly any sleep, with me sneaking away in the dead of night to do… this. This work I’ve sworn myself to. Laboring over workbenches cluttered with deconstructed gadgets and half-finished bionics—one of which we were finalizing today.

We had yet another installation to proceed with.

“Xh’ilussen nhxini!” The burly Nuvassi man spat at Vhiska—the young workshop hand—as she continued adjusting the tourniquet around his arm. She matched his scowl with one of her own before securing the device around his bulky bicep and returning to monitoring the readings panning across the tablet screen—an array of numbers and Talurian script as the last of the prosthetic arm’s programming was being installed.

In comparison to V, my approach was far gentler. I offered a soft smile once I noticed the young engineer was preoccupied, inquiring whether the harness was too tight in whatever broken Nuvassi Talurian I knew and adjusting it accordingly. My conversational skills weren’t top tier, but I could still piece together sentences, and I understood enough that small talk didn’t come too hard once he began carrying the conversation. Despite his more taciturn demeanor upon our first meeting, the older gentleman—Vhando, he said his name was—had a surprising amount of information to share. He was originally from the Southern Protectorates. His parents worked as mail carriers, running an independent business that primarily serviced lower income families. Most courier companies were self-reliant at the time. That is, until the Xhinith Corporation began buying out those businesses. One by one, they gathered under a single umbrella. A single conglomerate. Nearly the entire industry in the Protectorates had been monopolized. But his parents didn’t comply.

“They died in a fire…” he said in his rough dialect, sighing as he massaged his stubbled beard, “In our warehouse. A spontaneous one, or so we thought. They… they was thinkin’ they could save the cargo, but… it was too widespread.” He paused, shaking his head. “To this day, I think it’s the most foolish thing they ever done… valuin’ packages over their own lives. And leaving a boy…”

He stopped there, and I frowned. “You don’t have to keep goi—”

“I moved to Gan’em after that,” he continued, “Started working as a scrapper, peelin’ n’ sellin’ whatever parts I could. Until I ran into your bunch of… damn huviarr’xi.” He snickered, his disposition suddenly jovial as he gave a sly wink in Sai’s direction, who replied with a role of his eyes. I mimicked Sai, coupled with a shake of my head as I flickered a glance between the two of them. I continued to draw a band of short, black lines along Vhando’s bicep, not bothering to interrupt their bickering.

It was interesting seeing not just Sai, but the entire team in such a relaxed state. Things were always so serious up until now, with working on gathering supplies, securing connections, and fortifying our little hideout. But now that things were coming together, the team seemed more… at ease. Like they felt safe—right where they wanted to be. I envied that. But at least what I was doing would serve a purpose. I was doing good, helping to fight against oppression. And I was saving the life of someone important to my mother.

At least… I hope.

“Looks like we’re ready to go.” Vhiska turned to me and nodded once, the mechanical prosthetic in her hands. I finished up drawing the dotted lines on Vhando’s arm and walked away from him with a smile, rolling my eyes as the banter between him and Sai continued.

“Everything… looks good…” My eyes scanned over the code on the screen and the cybernetic arm, checking for any discrepancies. I knew there would be none—I designed it after all—but I was stalling. The next part was… gruesome. Installation always was. Usually, I could stomach it until the end, but today… the arm. I don’t know what it is about it, but the very thought caused my stomach to churn violently. With every passing second, I could feel the small beads of sweat form on my already pale face.

{ I don’t think  I can do this… }

[ How come? ]

{ I just can’t. }

[ Then express so. I don’t understand why this upsets you so deeply… you’ve done such an operation a dozen times by now. Literally—I have kept count. ]

{ Yeah, but… just not today. I— }

“Miu!” V interjected; an impatient expression was worn on her face. “Is it done? Vhando’s got a locale to hit tomorrow, we gotta have this done—”

“I’m fine.” I responded quickly—a little too quickly. “It’s done. Let’s, um… let’s get this over with.”

[ Are you sure? ]

{ Yeah. I’m fine. It’s just a cold or something, I guess. I can get through this. }

[ Your heart rate and temperature are abnormally high… but with your Camerian biology, human illnesses should not— ]

{ I said I’m fine. } I cut them off. And that was the end of it.

Sai prepared the saw. Vhando extended his arm along the rest while Vhiska prepared the anesthetic, but as soon as the needle came close to his skin, Vhando’s hand quickly reached out to catch V’s wrist, stopping her in her tracks. She looked up at him, confused and shocked.

“Waste of time.” He shook his head. “I’m a big boy. Ion’ need it.”

We all exchanged looks of horror—all except for Sai, who seemed unbelievably calm given the circumstances.

“Maybe you should reconsider,” I piped up, “This isn’t like… being shot or stabbed, this is—”

“I know what it is,” Vhando retorted, his face turned stony. The serious expression is broken slowly, as one side of his lips twitched into a small smirk. “I don’t need it.”

I gulped. Hard. Vhiska still glared at him, worry written all over her face. Sai, still unphased, began lining up the saw.

My hands were shaking now. Every inch of me would be if I hadn’t been trying my absolute hardest to not move an inch.

[ Perhaps you shouldn’t do this… ]

{ I… I… }

I can do this… I can do this…

I can’t.

Like I said. Installation was always gruesome.

As soon as the saw’s loud humming began to fill the room, Sai pulled down with all his might. It was a clean cut, quick and without complication. The only sound filling the room after was Vhando’s cries—a mixture of painful wailing and unsettling laughter—all while Vhiska rushed to hold him down.

It was my turn now. All I needed to do was walk up and attach the new limb… but I couldn’t. I was frozen in place, clutching the arm in my hands, the gears and apparatuses whirring and whizzing as my powers took over, disrupting the device. The shaking that started in my hands now coursed through every muscle of my body. And my breathing, it quickened faster than my heartbeat did.

I was losing control, little by little. Like a disrupted machine, coding and mechanism all jumbled and fried. But all I could do was stare at that arm on the floor, violet blood pooling out of the severed end and spreading across the reflective metal floor.

Vhando’s arm.

No… Pixul’s arm.

Or is it Vhando’s… Pixul’s…

It was hard to differentiate reality from the nightmare inside my head at that moment. I couldn’t hear Vhiska shouting at me, I couldn’t feel Sai shaking me, or Red’s low vibration against my chest. I couldn’t see Vhando lying unconscious on that exam table. I couldn’t see anything… except that arm.

Pixul’s arm. I was convinced now.

And Pixul lying right next to it, clutching the stab wound in her stomach, blood coating the floors.

There was blood dripping on her head. Slowly. Drip, drip, drip… but from where?

I lifted my head even more slowly, trembling as my eyes looked towards the ceiling. Right at the source of that dripping liquid. And my eyes widened at the sight.

It was Iannis, hanging hog-tied from their ankles. Beaten bloody and slashed open. Mutilated, eviscerated, but alive. And trembling more than I was.

“Save me…” they whimpered. “Save… me…”

Now I couldn’t breathe at all.

Suddenly, the prosthetic is wrenched away from my grasp. The vision blurs, then slowly disappears. No more Iannis. No more Pixul. Her arm was gone too, and in its place was Vhando’s. all I could see now was Vhiska rushing to attach the device. All I could feel was Sai’s hands gripping me as he carried me away from the scene and out the room, the sliding door quick the shut behind us.

I’m rushed up the stairs and out of the hideout. The sidewalks were empty—unsurprising at this time of night. The cool air offered some small comfort against my now pale, clammy skin.

“Miu. Breathe,” Sai urged, still maintaining his calm demeanor from before. I was always in awe of just how collected he was. Even through things like this—the illegal trading, the limb chopping, the blood, the violent excursions, the theft, the murder… everything. Through everything, he remained so… serene. I envied him for it.

Eventually my quickened breaths had steadied to a normal rate, no longer in a state of panic. Embarrassed, I pulled away from him, crossing my arms and averting my gaze downward.

“Thanks…” I mumbled, still refusing to meet his gaze. He didn’t respond, however. He only watched in silence. Just for a moment, though.

“Earth treats,” He broke the tension, and I shot my head up to look at him with a quirked brow.

“You promised me some—what’s it called… ice cream?”

I sighed, uncrossing my arms and softening my expression. A small smile returned my face as I finally caught on. He was giving me just what I needed.

Distractions.

March 1st, 2020. 03:44 AM.

There weren’t many ice cream shoppes open at this time of night. Luckily, 7/11 was open 24 hours a day.

I went in alone, grabbing a few pints of ice cream from the freezer—chocolate, cookies n’ crème, matcha, and classic vanilla. There was no way of knowing what Sai’s favorite flavor might be—they don’t really have ice cream where he’s from, after all—so having a few options to work from would be both beneficial for the future, and interesting to observe his reaction when trying the cold dessert for the first time.

I brought the ice cream out to the rooftop of the conbini, being sure that no one was watching before flying up to meet with Sai. I kept the cookies n’ crème for myself, and slid the other three flavors his way. Sitting down, we clinked spoons and dug in.

He hated the matcha. The chocolate he didn’t mind, but I could tell it wasn’t his favorite. I started on my own serving, watching carefully while he tried the final pint of vanilla.

And he adored it.

“Really?!” I eyed him with a shocked expression, “Of all the choices… Well, you can never go wrong with plain old vanilla, I guess.” I shook my head and giggled.

“Is this not a popular choice or something?” He raised a brow towards me, a puzzled look painted on his face.

“Well… it’s just not the most exciting choice, y’know? Vanilla’s nice, but… not the most fun flavor. It’s too plain! Boring! Dull!”

He huffed a dry laugh, shoveling another large scoop into his mouth. “There’s nothing dull about this.” He raised another spoonful towards me in toast before wolfing it down. All I could do was role my eyes and smile.

I hadn’t finished much of my ice cream, only digging into it with my spoon, staring at the specs of chocolate swirled inside. It’s funny; sweets tend to be the thing that always cheered me up, that pulled me away from whatever negative thoughts or feelings ran through my head. I owed that in part to Nami, whose almost addictive love for ice cream I always found endearing. But now was different, and maybe it was because I wasn’t with her. Maybe it was because, instead, Sai was here. Sai. A living representation of all the shit I’ve gotten myself into the past few months. And now my “happy place” wasn’t as effective. Those thoughts still clouded my mind, and I had no way of flushing them out. Eventually, I was gonna drown in them.

“You’re quiet.” Sai broke me away from my thoughts. I shot up to look at him, mouth opening and shutting when the words failed to come out.

“I…umm…” I fell silent again, averting my gaze when I realized I didn’t have an answer. Or at least, I didn’t want to answer. Not honestly, anyway.

“I’m just, y’know… it’s been a long day? Lots of… data proofing and coding and fine tuning and… Just a lot to deal with, yeah? I’m just tired. I’ll be fine. We all have to be eventually.” I finally wolfed down a scoop of ice cream, then looked up to smile at him. His expression was unchanged.

“Uh huh.” He stated, unconvinced. “And what happened down there, that was just you being tired?”

My smile faded, and I stared down at my unfinished ice cream again. My hands were trembling again, thinking about the vision I saw. Was it a vision? A hallucination? How long could I expect my mind to play tricks on me like that…

“It was…” I tried my best to answer, gripping the pint more tightly in hopes it would somehow cease my shaking. It didn’t.

“I don’t know what it was,” I answered finally with a loud sigh, “I think maybe I’m just stressed? With everything going on, I’m just… not used to it? But I don’t know why it happened. Every other installation went fine, but this one… I wasn’t ready for it. How was I supposed to know he wouldn’t take the anesthetic—which we should have given him anyway, by the way. And to see all the blood, and the way her arm lob off so easily like that—”

“Her?” He raised a brow to that, and I fell silent. Stiff. Not realizing my mistake until it was too late.

“U-uhh, his. His arm. Sorry…”

I stared long and hard into that ice cream now. But I could hear Sai’s heavy sigh. I could hear him shuffling as he moved closer to me, resting a hand on my shoulder while his second pair of arms held his ice cream in place.

“I get it. Okay? I’m… I’m not a stranger to that happening. It’s happened to me too.”

There wasn’t anything I could say. I just remained there, unmoving. Listening.

“I just say this because… I know our line of work is… unique. There aren’t a lot of people who understand what we go through. But you’re not alone in this. And I won’t force you to talk about it or confront whatever you’re feeling now. But if you need anything—anything at all… just ask. I got your back.”

We sat there in silence for some time as I let his words sink in. I wanted to say something—anything. To pour out all of my thoughts and feelings. My anxieties, my fears. I wanted to vent about all the things that have been tormenting me. But just like in the shrink’s office, the words never came. Faltering as soon as they formed in my mind.

Instead, I shifted the topic away from me.

“Is Vhando gonna be okay?” I asked softly.

“He should be, yes… you don’t have to worry about that,” Sai smiled, butting his shoulder with mine, “It takes a lot more than a missing arm to kill us. Talurian blood, and all…”

A lot more than a missing arm… a lot more…

“Do you… do you think Pixul’s still alive?” I asked, my voice cracking as I turned to face him. His smile was gone now, replaced with the serious expression I was used to.

“I… I don’t know. Things have been… silent,” he responded after a while, “Either way, we shouldn’t concern ourselves with it now—”

“Shouldn’t concern ourselves?!” My voice raised as I shifted my entire body to face him, knocking my pint of ice cream on its side as I sat it down roughly. “We literally stabbed her in the back and then chopped her arm off! We destroyed her entire club! Her whole operation! Her entire way of life. And to top it all off, robbed her of her weapons vault right after!! If I were her, I’d want our heads on a fucking stake! We can’t afford to ‘not concern ourselves’ when it’s our lives on the line!”

“Miu—” His voice was quiet, but stern—very stern. “Calm. Down.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down… I will NOT calm down!” I shot back, “I will NOT—”

“MIU!” He raised his voice finally, glaring right at me as he cut me off. “Lower you damn voice! Now listen… We’ve been doing this for months now. If Pixul was gonna make a move, she would’ve done so by now. So she’s either dead or she doesn’t care. Besides, our HQ is secured and untraceable thanks to Vhiska, and on top of that I’m pretty sure we’ve got the numbers now to take on whatever threat may come our way. She wouldn’t even have the resources to come find us considering how much she’s lost. Either way, it isn’t our problem anymore.”

I still didn’t believe him, but I wasn’t in the mood for arguing either—hell, I was hardly in the mood for ice cream anymore. I didn’t have the energy for it. I was just so… so…

Suddenly the tears began streaming down my face, and the sob I’d been choking back finally broke free. Frantically, I started wiping away tears as they fell, only for more to emerge and replace them. I hid my tear-soaked face in my palms as Sai looked on, surprised by my sudden unraveling.

“I’m so tired…” I whimpered; my voice muffled by the hands that still hid my messy face. “I’m so fucking exhausted… aren’t you tired of all this??”

Sai said nothing this time. Only watched as I continued in my sudden fit.

I was able to collect myself again after a while, face wet with tears and puffy from crying. We both sat in complete silence for what felt like an eternity, the quiet only ever broken by the occasional sniffle.

So much for distractions.

I don’t’ remember the last time I felt genuinely at peace with everything in my life. It seems as though recent years have been a series of small glints of happiness, later to be marred with chaotic situations I could’ve never imagined myself in, that I somehow always stumbled into despite never trying to.

Stressful situations.

But what’s the point in wallowing in it now, right? I was here. It was my choices that got me here, and now I had to deal with it. But that was easier said than done, and my old methods of “dealing with” situations out of my control were to simply not deal with them. To fill my day and my head with whatever I found gratifying in the moment. And that wasn’t working anymore. Not my hobbies, or my job, or my friends… As much as I loved all those things, none of it was helping. Because deep down, I was still hiding this double life from everyone. Holding all my feelings too close to the chest. And now here I was, vying desperately for peace of mind, but it was too late for that now. I was still racked with anxiety more severe than I’ve felt in years with no sign of release.

I just wanted a break from it all. But there seemed to be none in sight.

Unless…

No… no. It was stupid. Reckless. Perhaps the most reckless thought to ever cross my head.

And yet… it couldn’t be any more stupid than the decisions I’ve made in the past. And more than anything, I just wanted… I wanted to feel like myself again. Like Miu again. Or at least, the Miu everyone loves. The Miu that’s easier for me to love.

I just needed a little more help with that.

Sai exhaled softly, his breath forming a fleeting, misty cloud in the cold night air. “We should, um… we should head back soon—”

“Can you do something for me?” I interrupted with the inquiry, shifting so that my whole body faced him now, eyes locked with his and filled with intent.

He raised a brow at me, “Sure… yeah? If it’s within my capabilities I can try…”

“You… you said you’d do anything for me right? Anything at all? I just need to ask?”

His eyes narrowed at me, “What are you getting at here?”

My jaw clenched, the courage to ask for this was still building up within me. I stared down at my hands. Did I really want to do this? Was it worth it? Was there not a better way?

I’m sure there was… but it wouldn’t be the easier way.

And that’s what made it worth it.

“I need…” I lift my head, looking Sai straight in his eye with all the confidence I could muster in that moment.

“I need you to get me something.”

August 25th, 2020. 7:15 AM.

My brother had a gambling addiction years ago. I remember vividly the effect it had on him. The compulsive spending, the borrowed money that somehow vanishing overnight, the constant disappearing acts (which never got better once he stepped into his… new profession). But more than anything, I remember how it warped his perception of the world around him. How it changed him, from his morals to the way we treated his family. The way he treated me.

But at the same time, I understand what got him there, what pushed him into making that choice. It was the thrill of it, a danger you felt somehow in control of. That’s the high-risk-high-reward aspect of it, right? No matter how bad it was, no matter how further down that rabbit hole he fell, he couldn’t let go.

It was easy, I imagine, to get addicted to that sort of euphoria.

But that wasn’t me. No… this wasn’t an over-indulgence by any means. This was self-medicating, which was completely different from what Mitsuo went through. This would be different. I would be different.

Though Sai wasn’t convinced of that initially.

“Mhiconnia?! Really, Miu?!” he protested, “Do you REALLY think that’s the best idea? Like, do you understand what that shit does?? It doesn’t help you the way you’re thinking it will! It will fuck you up.”

“That’s only if you use a lot,” I countered, keeping my voice as calm as I could manage, “Maybe if I just have a little bit at a time—and only when I absolutely need it, of course—I can… I dunno… get back to myself? I won’t, like, abuse it or anything, I promise! I just… I need something to help. Something faster than… what I’m doing now. Whatever that is...”

He shook his head, huffing a dry laugh as he crossed both pairs of arms and began pacing back and forth on the roof. I’d never seen him this angry before. All I could think of while watching him was the face of my third-grade teacher, the time it turned bright red with anger after my friend and I conspired to free our class pet Randy the Turtle. I thought I was doing the right thing in that moment, but the reaction of my superiors, and the indignation on my own mother’s face, painted a different picture; it didn’t match with my reasoning, my reality. And much like my mother, Sai wasn’t having any of it.

But I still tried to reason. Because like with Randy the Turtle, I still felt that I was right. That there was no harm in what I was doing. That my reasoning made sense.

The argument ended there, however. Sai leapt from rooftop to rooftop until disappearing into the night, leaving me with a pile of melted ice cream.

I didn’t see him for a week after that. I spent an entire week regretting everything I said, reevaluating my thought process. The self-loathing burrowed itself deep in my psyche the longer I was left to ponder. Had it been a day longer, maybe it would have devoured me. Maybe I would’ve changed my mind completely, realizing the error in my self-destructive ways and fall victim to the depressive episodes and regular therapy visits. Just one day was all it would’ve taken. One more day…

But Sai came sooner. He had a small vial in his hands and look of disappointed buried deep in his eyes.

“Just. A little.” He repeated my words from the other night. All I could do was nod. And that was the end of it.

At least, it would do for the moment.

And holy fuck, did it work better than expected.

The vial was more than enough, actually. I never took more than I needed—not nearly the amount that Pixul dosed me with during our first encounter. A small dab was enough, sometimes worn on the eyelids or the apples of my cheeks in a way that resembled makeup. Just a small amount to get me through the day. A little more for the more stressful days. And some more when the panic attacks return…

And when I ran out, I asked Sai for more.

I was more than back to myself again. I was… more present in a way. More focused. More productive. Friendlier, bubblier, more excitable. I was back to myself again. The Miu everyone loved, and the Miu I loved to be. I could enjoy my life again, which only cemented in my mind that this was exactly what I needed.

And when I ran out, I asked for more. And more.  And more…

It was hard to tell if the vials were getting smaller or the amount in each one lesser, because each delivery seemed to go quicker than the last. Frustration set in when the wait for more seemed to lengthen. Even while everything seemed to be looking up for me—from living with my girlfriend, to my career finding resurgence, to even starting my own business—I was still… fixated. Obsessed with maintaining a happiness I thought seemed unattainable without that magical dust. Fear, a deep-seated fear, that my sadness, loathing, and isolation would come creeping back. That it would come and take everything away from me.

I’m not dependent, I would tell myself. I’m not addicted. I’ll be fine even after this…

But was there an 'after’? Would there ever be? And what did that look like exactly?

Best not to dwell…

It’s been months since that talk on the roof. Months of using Storm’s Tears. Months since Sai and I had a conversation that was longer than three words wasn’t about just work. Months since even Red and I had a heart-to-heart, or any sort of conversation, really…

Months since I last talked to my family.

It seems as though, in an effort to get better, to feel like myself again, I’ve only lost even more. I was starting to wonder if all of this was worth it. Not just the drugs, mind you, but everything—Vitriol, Iannis, Kalar… would any of it amount to anything? There’s been no sign of my mom’s ex-lover since Sai and I escaped that night. And beyond that, any memory that seems to resurface through Red feels like more of a riddle than the last. What was I doing anymore? What was I searching for? What was the purpose? What is—

Too much thinking, I thought. I needed some more. Just to pull myself out of the haze.

It was only a little. Spreading it gently across the eyelids with my ring finger, another smear against my lips. I inhaled once. Exhaled. The thoughts flowed out of me like a tidal wave, being replaced with a sea of bliss. Sweet thoughts. Happy thoughts.

I was fine. We’re all fine. We’re figure it out as we go.

KNOCK. KNOCK.

The sound at the door shook me out my musing. I jolted from my seat at the vanity and rushed to the living room. It was odd—Nami was out with dogs today, taking them on walks and running other errands, so I wasn’t expecting her back so soon. And if it was her, she would’ve just walked right in. Unless her hands were full, that is. Or it could be a friend, here on a surprise visit. Either outcome would have made since, would have been expected.

But what I was not expecting was this.

“…Mom?!” I exclaimed while answering the door.

“Yes.” Julia stated coolly, standing like a statue in the doorway, their icy, stoic glare piercing a hole straight through my skull. Immediately, they breezed past me, and I nearly stumbled over as I rushed out of the way.

“You haven’t called home in quite a while. The last we heard from you was when you told us about your move.” They walked around the room, carefully inspecting every angle of the apartment from floor to ceiling. “Nice place. Where’s that lover of yours?”

“U-uhh—out! She’s out right now…” I blinked trying to maintain my composure, though that was hard. What on earth were they doing here? And unannounced like that? My head was spinning, the shock and confusion trying so hard to cut its way through the sanguine state brought about by the psychoactive drug. Under normal circumstances, that bewilderment would’ve taken over, invading every facet of my senses. But right now, the Storm’s Tears wouldn’t allow for that. Instead, I was too focused on how happy I was to see them, and how nice they looked in their dingy, grey trench coat, and how pretty their hair was, and how—

“Huh.” Their voice interjected, cutting off my train of thought. They began moving into the kitchen, and I quickly followed after. “A shame. I would love to meet them. One of these days. When you decide we’re all worth speaking to again.”

I opened my mouth to say something—a rebuttal, an excuse, anything to clear my name—but quickly shut it once I realized I had nothing of value to say. Nothing to defend myself with. I felt bad—horrible, even. But even now, I was unsure what sort of reaction the truth would garner me. Would it be the genuine concern any mother would have for their self-destructive child, or would it be pure, unbridled fury?

I’m almost certain it’s the last one. It’d be the one I’d deserve anyway.

Their fingers glided across the granite countertops before stopping, leaning against the surface as they eyed me keenly. What were they looking for, I wonder? The truth in my eyes? The guilt? A sign a weakness? It was all there, albeit hidden under and wave of euphoria, but could they still sense it?

The tension… you could cut it with a knife.

Time to lighten the mood, maybe…?

“Stick around and maybe you might!” I laughed—maybe a little too loud—then shrugged playfully as I stumbled into one of the kitchen island chairs. “It’s good that you’re here then, right?! The universe is… is bringing us together! Obaachan always used to say things happen for a reason. Aaand, uhhhhh, this…! Is the reason! You’re welcome.”

Excellent job, I could imagine Red shooting out the sarcasm-drenched words in my head. And they would’ve been more than fair in doing so.

I cupped my face with my hands and stared back into those intense eyes, and the second I did something… shifted. There was a clear change in their demeanor—a darkness that entered their expression. My ima’s eyes began to narrow as they examined me further, the tensing of their jaw ceasing altogether.

Now I was starting to feel unnerved.

“Are you drunk?”

“Wh-what?” I stammered, caught off guard by the question. “N-no… no! No, I am not.”

They straightened and began slowly circling around the island, closing the gap between us. My smile disappeared, and once they were close enough, they leaned in, keeping their voice low. Though that didn’t stop their words from cutting like steel.

“Are you high, Cira?”

I gulped. Loudly.

I hated that name. Not for the reason many would think, mind you—it wasn’t archaic-sounding or harsh on the ears or anything like that. It was a nice name. I hated it because my mother only ever used that name when I was in trouble—deep trouble. It was an easy way of telling just exactly where I landed on the scale of pissing-them-the-fuck-off.

And right now, that scale was reading pretty damn high.

“U-uh, I, uhh…” I floundered with my words again, unable to answer—not truthfully, anyway. But I was definitely in no position to lie convincingly either.

“N-nooo…noooooo. I don’t, umm, do that. Like, ever.” I lied, letting out a soft, nervous laugh as I awkwardly crossed my arms. They remained still, and unconvinced.

“Are you high, Cira?” They asked again.

They could see me folding into myself as they pressed further, and this time they didn’t give me a chance to answer. Instead, they grabbed my face roughly with one hand, the iciness in their piercing white eyes growing colder, threatening to freeze me in place. I was struck with the realization that they knew exactly what was going on.

Then, the words I never wanted to hear left their lips.

“What the fuck is on your face?”

I was petrified. It was as if I lost all ability to formulate a single word or line of thought in that moment.

Too late to lie now…

My mother released my face, rushing out of the kitchen and towards the bathroom. I quickly hopped from my seat and scurried behind my ima, only to find them rummaging through the drawers and pill cabinet. They took out several pill bottles—most vitamins, some painkillers, prescribed medication—and began tossing them at me.

“Where is it? Huh? Can’t be these—” They put a few bottles back, while the thrown ones would hit either me or the wall as they clamored to the floor. I stood there silently, just watching them.

“Where is it? Speak up.” Their voice rose in volume, their tone getting harsher with each passing word, mixing English with their native Camerata. “You didn’t have a problem lying before, why so quiet now?”

I’d wince in response to the shouting, fumbling with my fingers behind my back. It was as if I’d lost all ability to communicate properly. Incapable of neither explanation nor defense. All I could do was take it—stand there as they marched from room to room, rummaging through drawers and beneath blankets and pillows and an onslaught of dog toys in silent fury.

They eventually did find it, however. All without my help. As they entered the bedroom, their eyes landed on it: the small vial of shimmering dust, sitting on the vanity amidst a number of lipsticks and eyeliner pens. Stupid of me to leave it out, and in such an obvious place too. They lifted it with their hands, slowly twisting it between their fingers. Then they turned to me.

“Where the fuck did you get this?”

I couldn’t stay silent anymore, not while they were this angry. And I couldn’t lie either. Not now. Because as I watched my mother hold that vial in their hands, I realized that it wasn’t just the drugs that were the problem. No… it was where they came from. The place of origin. The source of their—no, our—trauma.

“S-so, umm…” I mumbled, fumbling with my words, “A-a lot happened recently that I haven’t been… fully honest about—”

“No shit.” They cut me off again, “Where. Did you. Get. This?”

They approached me, holding the Storm’s Tears to my face. I stood there trembling slightly, trying to avoid eye contact as the guilt washed over me in waves. They knew the answer to their question. They just wanted to hear me say it.

“…I went to Nuva—but wait, hear me out okay? There’s more to it than you think—”

“How?!” They shouted, and my eyes shot immediately to the ground, hands clasped together and held against my chest. It was so easy for them to make me feel so small. Like a child hanging their head as their parent scolds them.

 “I, umm… I met a girl… named Pixul.” I looked up to meet their glare now, “She was, uhh… from Gan’em, I think she said? She was able to find me through my… last venture to… you know…”

They pulled away and sighed heavily, pacing angrily back and forth. They were trying to make sense of all of this, how their own child had come so close in contact to the one place they’ve spent their life running from. And how that same child is now somehow involved in the worst it has to offer.

If only they knew just how bad it really was…

I squirmed where I stood, the words leaving me as a squeak. “L-look, I’m—”

“Do you know how much danger you’ve put yourself in? How much danger we could ALL be in? Because of you?!” They were shaking with anger as the shouted, the force of their words strong enough to back me against the wall. “And now this… you’re hooked onto this shit? Do you know what this does? It will fucking kill you! That’s if the cretins that gave you this don’t kill you first!”

They were right… everything they were saying… was right.

Sadness, shame, and anger churned within me like a dark cloud as their words cut into me. It swelled and boiled and spilled over the surface in a caustic brew. And all I could do—all I could muster—was uncontrollable weeping.

The tears fell instantly, overflowing as loud sobbing began to fill the room. I sunk to the floor, back still against the wall as I hid my dampened face behind my hands. The pain, the inner conflict, the frustration and turmoil I kept so tightly bottled inside was now overwhelming, and pouring out right there, on the floor of my bedroom. Right in front of my mom, who’s visceral anger was now replaced with shock, guilt, and deep-seated concern.

Julia softened their features, sighing as they set the vial down on the vanity and kneeled down to my level.

“Miu, I—”

“I DIDN’T WANT TO, OKAY?!” I blurted out, uncovering my puffy, wet face to glare at them. “They came for me, okay? And the only reason I went was because I needed answers about these horrible dreams I keep having. Dreams of all the awful things that your ima did.”

They flinched at the sudden shift in energy, at the accusatory finger I pointed in their direction. Realizing my anger was getting the best of me, I folded into myself more, averting my eyes.

“I needed answers… Red and I did. Because Red didn’t know anything. I thought I’d get something, anything, if I went… even if it was little.” My voice cracked, and the tears began to flow again. “But all I got was thrown into the thick of all the crime and violence of that fucking city and I’m all fucked up now because of it. And I can’t even get out of it if I wanted to… I can’t leave any of this behind. So yeah. I use it because it helps. It’s a distraction—a temporary one, sure, but it’s… it’s all I’ve got.”

Julia’s frown deepened. They were sitting now, legs crossed as they listened.

“I… see…” they began, “Why is it that you can’t leave? And why… why didn’t you come to me? Why didn’t you trust me?” They held up the vial again. “Because this? This isn’t going to help you the way you think it will. But I can.”

The tension returned in my body. I felt every muscle lock in place at the questions, knowing the answer to both was the same.

“Miu.” Their voice turned stern. “Talk to me.”

“I… I…” I swallowed hard.  The words were there, stuck in the back of my throat, and I was fighting to keep them there. To keep it back and away. To hold onto like I have been for so long. It was like I was comfortable here. So used to this pain that the thought of sharing it with someone else felt foreign—felt scary.

I can’t…

[ Miu. ]

I’m so tired…

[ Miu. It’s time. ] Red spoke again. [ Enough of this. ]

I can’t… I can’t…

I have to.

“I met someone.” I said finally. “Someone who… who knows you.”

Julia’s eyes furrowed, their face tense as the shock hit them.

“Who…?” Their voice was lower, softer, than I was used to hearing. I knew this was going to hurt them.

Enough of this…

I sat up, letting the knees I held close to my chest fall. I took a breath—inhale, then exhale.

Then I said it.

“Their name is Iannis.”

Silence.

Still.

That’s the best way I could describe my mother in that moment. Still—completely still. As if made of stone. The expression remained fixed, the muscles locked in place, as the realization settled into them that Iannis—the long-lost lover they thought dead for so many years—was indeed alive.

“I… I went back to save them, but… they were gone. Pixul took them away before I could get to them. But now I’m working with this guy, he says he’ll help me find them. He… he thinks Iannis may be in Vano.”

Their eyes began moving rapidly now, flickering in every which direction as their breath became tapered. Slowly, I began to realize they were trembling. It was a sight I was familiar with—I found myself in their shoes many times.

“M-mom…?” I said softly, hoping to coax them out of their trance. Nothing.

“…Ima?” I tried again, using the familiar title, the one they were used to. This time they did respond, but not in the way I was hoping.

They didn’t even look at me as they stood from their spot on the floor. Not so much as a glance in my direction as they stormed out of the room. Not even a goodbye as the front door slammed behind them.

And once again I was alone. Alone in an apartment I’d certainly have to clean before Nami returned. But for now, I just sat there. I sat and stared at the place where my mother once was. I looked down in my lap and stared at my tear-soaked hands. I lifted my head and turned towards the vanity, right in the spot where the vial stood.

I stared into the clear tube of silver, glittering dust. My source of happiness when my mind was devoid of any. When nothing else seemed to work. When the stress became too overwhelming.

I stared at it hard, and contemplated. Considered. And the longer I looked, the more that deep hunger began to swell inside me, in the deepest, darkest part of my heart.

I stared. And I stared. And I stared.

And I…

December 1st, 2020. 1:39 AM.

The weeks were starting to feel longer. The days blended together as time went on, and my job—both on the surface and beneath—were starting to feel too… mundane. Repetitive.

I tried to fill my day with distractions. Tried to change up my routine at points just to make things feel livelier. But nothing stuck for long. I still found myself feeling empty. Like a giant hole was carved into my chest and all the joy was sucked out, leaving nothing but an empty husk. A robot without a soul.

That isn’t how I presented myself though. On the surface, I was fine. I was still me. And in a way, pretending I was fine helped, even if only a little. I just wish I didn’t have to pretend at all.

I haven’t talked to my mom since that day.

I thought about calling home, seeing how everyone was. To see how they were doing, given what they now knew. I even considered maybe visiting for the holidays. It’d be a good chance for Nami to finally meet everyone. And moreso, it’d be a nice break from everything going on. But every time I reached for the phone, I was instantly hit with the memory of my mother’s anger. The yelling, the glares, the harsh words. I remember the way it twisted into anguish as I told them the truth—the full truth.

And I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.

Now I was here, tinkering away at the drone on my worktable, knowing that any semblance of a “break” would be a far-off memory for the foreseeable future.

How long could I close myself off, I wonder? How long until the self-sabotage got to an excruciating point? Was I not already there?

So much left to be seen, I suppose.

Vhiska was with me, standing at the other side of the table. She was running diagnostics on a few photomazers that Sai would be picking up later. I could hear her mumble curses under her breath on occasion as she meticulously examined each device.

I guess the mundanity wasn’t always bad. I liked moments like these. Quiet moments. Where it was just me and the many machines I would soon breathe life into. I preferred working with my hands rather than using my powers; the process was slower, but more intimate. More engaging. This way I wasn’t thinking about…

Yeah… no more of that.

The vial was in my pocket. I hadn’t decided yet if I was going to give it back to Sai or keep it. I went back and forth about it in my head, and the conclusion still remained unfounded. But I knew I had to decide soon, especially with Sai being minutes away from popping right into this very room.

“Hey,” Vhiska nodded their head towards me, “Could you hand me the—”

Cut off mid-sentence by the loud, sudden whirring sound from behind, a bright flash of light accompanying it, we both turned our heads to see Sai, clad in all black, entering the premise with each sword equipped and hilted on his hips and back.

Minutes… more like seconds.

“Hey.” He said simply, taking in our faces. He only glanced in my direction, but gave V a quick nod. “Could you, umm… could you give us a minute?”

Vhiska’s eyes flickered between the two of us, reluctant to leave her place at the table. But with a sigh, she placed the photomazer down and made their way towards the back room, rolling her eyes as she went.

“Guess I’ll go… help Barr with inventory.”

And with that, she was out of the room. Or at least, out of earshot. And Sai and I just remained there in silence, eyes awkwardly glancing at and away from each other over and over again. Things were still tense between us. Business took priority, but ever since I essentially forced him into my role as my dealer, the friendship we once had was dissipated. And that shitty feeling was taking over again.

I was the first to chime up, breaking the awkward pause between us. “Listen, Sai… I just wanted to say that, um… I’m really sorry? And I know that’s not enough… I know it wouldn’t be for me, but… I just want you to know that I’m not gonna ask again. I think that… I think that I’ll be okay without. Or at least, I can learn how…”

Sai only looked at me. The expression on his face was hard to read; there was a pang of guilt there, mixed with turmoil, and a small touch of sadness. Inner conflict, perhaps? Or maybe… heartbreak.

He sighed, pulling his hands from his pockets as he approached me, squatting down with his arms rested on his knees. He didn’t say anything for a while, only staring down as the floor. As if searching for the right words to say. I was starting to think my apology wasn’t enough—obviously, it wasn’t. It was hardly adequate considering the gravity of what I’ve done. Maybe I’ve fucked this up beyond repair. Maybe it was time to give up now. Or was it?

“L-look, Sai, I’m—”

“Sector 8.” He cut me off.

I stared down at him, brows furrowed in confusion. “What are you…”

“Sector 8. Environ 169. District 7.”

He lifted his head, staring me right in the eyes. I stared back, disbelief etched into my visage as I finally understood what he was telling me.

“Your friend is indeed in Vano.”

Even seeing it coming didn’t stop the words from hitting me like a truck. It didn’t make the weight of it any lighter either. This was it. This was really it. I had a location. A place, an exact place, pinpointed. The place where Iannis was.

And now all that was left to do was… go get her.

With that sudden realization, I felt that same weight—the weight of the world on my shoulders—threatening to crush me.

“Is there… is there anything else you need?” Sai asked, a look of deep concern in his eyes as he noticed how still I’d become. I wanted to answer—hell, my mind was screaming at me to. But my eyes were directed at the floor. I was still too shaken. Still too hyper-focused on that weight.

And suddenly I was reminded of the weight of a small vial in my pocket.

Sector 8. Environ 169. District 7.

There’s so much to do… I need to think. Need to plan…

Sector 8. Environ 169. District 7.

I don’t know what to do… how to get there, how to go about this…

Sector 8. Environ 169. District 7.

I need a plan. I need help…

Sector 8.

I need… I need…

Sector 8.

I need to relax…

I lifted my head towards Sai.

“Do you have some more?”

[sea-side-scribbles]

Fanfiction: Stranded

Paring: Fragile/Higgs

Rating: M

Chapters: 8/?

Link: 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21672883/chapters/51685480

Turning into a god had been painful, but turning back into a human being felt much worse. 

And now there was Fragile, saying she would give him a choice. But he knew it was a lie.

After all, there was only one thing left to do for him, one last try to take fate into his own hands.

But you should be careful what you wish for, right?

Chapter 1

Higgs wasn’t broken yet when he fell into the tar, defeated, mud splashing into his face. He didn’t care much about his face anyway. He relaxed, let himself float, even enjoyed it a little to calm down after so many fights that had exhausted the immense powers he still felt tingling in his fingertips. It was alright when Sam Porter even pulled him out so carefully. So much for aphenphosmphobia. It felt like he had all the time in the world to wait and feel his powers come back. His dear nemesis collapsed next to him. It looked like they were only having a nice day on the beach, with the waves gently splashing against their mudded boots and the peaceful quiet around them. Although Sam didn’t have so much time to waste. Higgs playfully teased him, almost pleading him to go on. He didn’t really mean to speed things up though. He didn’t lose yet. Sam didn’t move either and it was ok. But then Fragile appeared.

Higgs stared at her, startled. Fragile could never visit other beaches, but Sam and her, they shared a connection. She could reach him. He should’ve known. His anger disturbed this peaceful scene, but not too much. It was still alright.

„Fragile?“, the sigh escaped his lips before he could stop them.

She stood upright, features proud and cold. She eyed him for a moment before she said: „Guess I left a lasting impression.“ Her gaze was a little unnerving, but he indeed remembered her very well. Running through timefall, stumbling and falling into the puddles while the rain crumbled her skin, sacrificing herself to people who still hated her anyway. She was broken, desperate and soo helpless. She didn’t know that her efforts were no use, that time was running out for everyone anyway. Poor little Fragile. And now she wanted revenge. 

„This time, you’re the one who’s going to break,“ she said in her soft, quiet voice. She was full of determination. Her daddy would be proud. Should’ve chosen another name for her though. Higgs smiled at her cold features.

„Is that right?“, he enjoyed every word. „I think you’ll find our bond is made of stronger stuff.“ His gaze fell on Amelie, his sweet angel of death. She was unconscious, hanging in Sam Porter’s arms, face pale, white like a porcelain doll. But not broken. As if she wanted to prove it, she suddenly moved, took off the mask they shared and let out a quiet sigh. Well, he had hoped she would keep the mask as a sign of their bond, but she was always a little peculiar, she was an EE after all, a bringer of death, his lord and savior and more important, his source of power. He reached out for her, like he had done it so many times before. They shared a strong connection, they acted as one.

When she didn’t answer him he was surprised. She must’ve been more tired than he had thought. But it looked like she was about to wake up. He tried again, more forceful this time, his own exhausted muscles tensed and starved for strength. They remained unheard. Amelie was still hanging in Sam’s arms. How embarrassing.

He heard Fragile’s amused voice break the silence, but he hardly listened to her. He clung to Amelie, violently pulled at her and used his last bits of energy as he desperately tried to reach her. But it  felt like he tried to pull power out of a corpse. „Give me power, dammit!“, he yelled at the motionless figure - and then she gave him this look. At first it was unreadable, it became unsettling and then something deep inside him snapped. It made his ears ring and turned his insides to ice. 

He started trembling, his useless arm fell right back into the mud and his mind was haunted by the gaze of his angel. When Amelie closed her eyes again, she had chanced everything forever. 

The cold didn’t leave Higgs when he tried to intimidate Fragile with mere words. He could barely hear what he was saying while he struggled to hold himself up as he stuttered into Fragile’s blank face. „I’m Higgs! I’m the Particle of God that permeates all existence!“, he recited his self made title like a prayer, as if he could use it to summon all his powers once again. They have felt so natural, as if he had been born with them. They were never meant to leave him. But his body remained cold. He could only stay down on the ground with an avenging angel above him. 

As an answer to his efforts, Fragile took off one of her black leather gloves and viewed the aged skin underneath. Higgs was still frozen when her hands suddenly cupped his face. It was a surprisingly gentle stroke that made him wish he could lean back and relax again, just like he had done a few moments before. That wish felt like a spark that painfully burned it’s way through his frozen insides. When Fragile let go off him, she left a chill on his skin. He still stared at her when she pulled him closer to smack him back down with her fist. He heard his bones crack when he hit the black sand. Then the world faded. 

The calm he had gained this ungentle way didn’t last long. Soon, Higgs was hauled back up by Sam, who then tied his wrists up. Still puzzled, Higgs looked around for Amelie, but she was nowhere to find. He couldn’t feel her anymore The cold was gone, but it had left his body numb, useless as a whole. Sam ripped the Quipu from his neck and that was all it took to make Higgs feel naked. His mind was spinning, he had so many questions. Why did he have to lose everything? What had he done to deserve this? To be cut loose from everything he had accomplished? 

Fragile and Sam now stood together, closed the deal, as it seemed. A gun was placed in Fragile’s hands and she smiled. Higgs began to press his wrists against the handcuffs that did nothing but clink a little. He knew that there was no escape from this beach without Amelie. All he could do was fighting down the panic that grew inside him to leave himself some dignity. 

Sam now walked off with the Quipu and Fragile stepped closer to Higgs, not aiming yet. She knelt 

down and put her hands on him a second time. Higgs couldn’t stare right into her face anymore, so he tilted his head to the side and looked at the muddy ground. He heard the connection to his BB break with a hiss. He grimaced. They really stripped him down. Even though his BB had died the moment Amelie had abandoned him the loss left a bitter taste. Fragile carefully turned BB around in her hands. Her blank features changed into disgust and horror when she saw what was inside. She allowed him last moment of triumph. 

Higgs smirked at her when she looked back at him. His smirk faded though when she put down the pod and placed her fingers back at the gun. When her eyes fell on him again he couldn’t restore the confident facade, as much as he wanted. He gulped instead, to his embarrassment. Death was inevitable now, but what if she decided to play a little with her prey beforehand? While Higgs was dwelling in his thoughts, Fragile’s eyes fell on a golden shimmer in the mud and she let the gun sink again. She walked over to the shimmering spot and seconds later, she held Higgs’ mask in her hands.

„Wanna try?“, Higgs offered with a voice more hoarse than he had wanted it to be. Of course, he didn’t expect Fragile to be so stupid. She turned back to him and promised: „I’ll be back.“ 

„Great…“ he mumbled as she made her way to who knew where. He believed he could hear Amelie’s voice now in the distance. She was still there but their connection was gone. As soon as Fragile was out of sight he began pulling at his cuffs again and begged to whatever was left in this world to give him his powers back. He was so tired. Struggling was only running him down even more and he didn’t want to black out again, waste all the time he had left. Panting, he looked around the beach and when the shock sank in, when his abandoned Ka started to think again, he saw that he was all alone. Finished and yes, broken.

Amelie…the last stranding…his whole purpose of existence, it was all gone. And now, without Amelie’s power pulsing in his body, everything looked so different.

[megwritesfanfiction]

Concrete 3/3 (BNHA/MHA Kacchako)

Disclaimer: I do not own Boku No Hero Academia. I am not making a profit off of this.

A/N: Okay, I think this is done... Maybe? I have no idea... 

Concrete 1 Concrete 2

Read on AO3

It reminded her of floating.

She would know.

Her body felt fuzzy and weightless. The sensation had once made her dizzy and nauseous, but with practice and understanding she’d quickly found herself used to the feeling of it.

Uraraka had a feeling that she’d never get used to this.

Though feeling hadn’t returned to her body, neon dots burst brightly behind her closed eyes and beeping filled her ears. Slow, steady, and accompanied by the soft hum of electricity.

If she had to guess, Uraraka would bet she was in the hospital.

In the handful of times she’d been sent to Recovery Girl’s office, she’d never been hooked up to a monitor. She’d woken up on the way to the med room after she fainted during her match with Bakugo at Sports Festival their first year. Aside from normal bumps, bruises, and broken bones, Uraraka could only think of one other time she’d sustained a serious injury.

She’d taken a knee to the head while sparring and was unconscious for a few hours.

Uraraka couldn’t quite remember what had happened this time, but…

“Any change?”

Who was that?

To her right, the shifting of stiff fabric scratched against her eardrums. “No.” There was a heavy sigh followed by partially muffled words, “They said she’d be awake by now.” Bakugo? How long had she been unconscious? “What are you doing here anyway?”

“I’m off duty until Sunday morning.” Boots clicked across the floor moving closer to her. “Figured I would check in on you guys since Iida had to go back.”

Okay, so it wasn’t Iida. She would say it was Deku, but it didn’t quite sound like him. Kirishima had mentioned something about being on duty, so she had to assume something had happened. Knowing Deku, he wouldn’t stop working until he couldn’t move.

Whatever incident it was, Uraraka had to believe it was the cause of her injuries.

She was okay.

Even if she couldn’t feel her limbs yet.

She heard Bakugo huff as he moved again, “I don’t need a babysitter.”

“Just making sure, man.” Kirishima. She should have known.

“Hey man,” she could hear the smirk on his face. “Someone needs to make sure you’re eating-”

The sound of paper crinkling and a whiff of something salty filled her nose. Smelled like teriyaki?

“And that you haven’t been arrested.”

If that statement didn’t wake her up, Uraraka wasn’t sure she’d ever regain consciousness.

The last thing she remembered was Bakugo scowling as she shoved pink and white frosted cookies in her mouth. He’d grumbled something about her “shitty eating habits” when he stole a cookie from her, refusing to admit how good the cookies were.

What exactly had happened to her…? Where did they go after breakfast? And how had her boyfriend nearly ended up in jail?

“Well-“ Why did Bakugo sound so tired? His voice was raspy and weak, not evening trying to but his normal amount of bite in his voice. “I’ve managed to stay out of trouble for the last day and a half.”

What day was it? Kirishima mentioned something about going back on duty Sunday, but she couldn’t remember what day she’d been rendered unconscious.

“I’m just making sure that you don’t punch anyone else out.” Had there been a fight? Had she gone out on patrol with him and gotten injured? Uraraka couldn’t recall being scheduled for a patrol or being teamed with Bakugo. As weird as it was, teachers at UA were aware of their relationship and made sure not to partner them up for patrol or projects.

There may have been one instance when he’d been assigned to be her partner randomly, but teachers had been sure to split them up for patrol practicals.

Kirishima’s voice was light as it faded toward the other side of the room. “You need to eat. Iida told me you didn’t eat last night-“

“I’m not hungry.“

“Kaminari told me you skipped lunch yesterday-“

“Not true. The nurse brought me a coffee and cookie-” A small part of her hoped that she could remember this conversation when she finally awakened. Bakugo had always been critical of making sure that she was eating regularly, especially with her training regimen.

“Mina told me you didn’t eat anything this morning-” It sounded like he was standing in front of Bakugo. “And I am not above telling Uraraka. She’s gonna be pissed.”

He wasn’t wrong. Uraraka was sure if she could move her body she’d sit up and knock some sense into her boyfriend. Warmth was finally beginning to tingle in toes and fingers, but her body felt like lead.

“She has to wake up first.” She’d witnessed her boyfriend fight against impossible odds without batting an eyelash at the odds. Why did he sound so hopeless? His soft sinking tone sent a jolt of fear down her spine as she heard the heart monitor play her nerves.

How bad was she hurt?

“Katsuki-” Kirishima resorting to calling him by his first name without Bakugo’s protest only confirmed the seriousness of this situation. “The doctor said that Uraraka’s surgery went better than they could have asked for. Brain scans are good-”

“She has a brain bleed-”

“Minor, non-surgical-” Personally, Uraraka would never think to associate the term brain bleed and minor, but if the doctor wasn’t concerned she could relax a bit.

“Her hair was soaked with blood and dust when I found her.” A head injury and the sedatives would explain her lack of memory. “I should have gotten her to a medic immediately when I-”

“Stop.” Kirishima’s voice was firm.

Uraraka could feel the pull of stitches against her side and at her scalp as she focused on trying to move.

“I should’ve noticed that she had a concussion.”

“Ka-”

“Like I should have seen that fucking gash in her side.” Had she been stabbed in an ambush?

“Don’t do this to yourself,” Kirishima sighed. “You’re going to have to forgive yourself eventually.”

“When she wakes up,” Bakugo insisted, stubbornly.

The sound of plastic and styrofoam rattling sounded louder in her ears.

“If you don’t eat something, you’re going to be in a bed next to her.” Kirishima’s hand came down lightly on something solid. She imagined there was a little table in her hospital room. “Eat the damn noodles and stop thinking about worst case scenarios. The doctor said she’s doing good.”

The black behind her closed eyes become lighter as she felt awareness returning to her body.

“Eat or I tell your mother.”

“You’ll be back on duty when she comes to the hospital.” Uraraka couldn’t ignore the small smirk in his voice.

“Actually,” Kirishima started with a smirk of his own. “She said she’ll be here this evening with dinner, so I can join you all.”

“Tch.” It was nice to hear the tension ease out of his voice.

Her eyelids painfully peeled apart, the fluorescent light above her head burning her eyes.

“I can’t believe you have my mother’s number.”

Kirishima laughed, pulling a chair of his own next to him, “How are you surprised?”

Uraraka would’ve laughed if her throat hadn’t felt like it was full of sandpaper and cactus needles. With a little inhale and eyes barely open, she watched as Kirishima unboxed the food and placed a covered bowl in front of Bakugo.

“Fair enough,” Bakugo sighed, leaning back in his hair as he shook his head. The skin around his eyes was dark and drawn tight.

When was the last time he’d slept?

He was dressed what looked to be a wrinkled pair of navy hospital scrubs, hair more unruly than usual.

“Stop pouting,” Kirishima said, holding a pair of chopsticks out in front of the blonde. “Eat your noodles.”

Uraraka licked her lips as the corners of her lips twitched with amusement. She inhaled deeply, opening her mouth. “Yeah-” That small word tearing at her throat. “Eat your noodles,” she rasped breathlessly, words slurred together.

Bakugo gasped, lurching forward as he pushed the small table out of the way. He jumped to her beside carefully cradling her head as he looked into her hazy eyes. “You’re awake?”

“Suppose so,” Uraraka breathed softly as she smiled at him.

His hands trembled as cool relief washed over him, hands gently pushing her hair back. “Shit,” Bakugo panicked. “We need a doctor!” He roared, turning toward the door.

“Ow,” Uraraka winced as her head throbbed.

“Shit,” he muttered, gingerly patting her face as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Sorry, sorry, sorry…”  

“I’ll go get a doctor,” Kirishima offered as he made his way out of the room.

The doctors swarmed her bedside and pushed him into the hallway. Bakugo had quickly called Uraraka father, then followed up with his own mother.

“Katsuki!”

“She’s awake.” Bakugo peeked back into Uraraka’s hospital room making sure what his eyes and ears had seen were real. Red eyes glanced at Kirishima, confirming his witness was still there.

They’d carefully propped Uraraka up against the fluffy hospital pillows. Her usually bright brown eyes were hazy, but she was awake and responding to whatever questions they asked her.

“Thank goodness,” his mother breathed with relief. “What’d the doctor say?”

“I don’t know yet,” Bakugo look another look into the room. “But, I figure she still has a couple days here.”

“Did you still want me to come by tonight?”

“I guess,” he shrugged, phone clutched against his ear. “Ochako probably won’t mind the visit.”

“Well, if she’s too tired,” Mitsuki started sternly. “I can just bring you kids some food tomorrow.”

“Yeah.”

“You called her father, right?”

“I talked to him before I called you.” he peeked back into the room again. They were removing the blood pressure from her arm. Her eyes were still open, drowsy but alert.

“Good. Don’t forget to keep me posted.”

“I won’t.”

“You take care of her, Katsuki.”

“I am, mom.”

“You must have been worried if you called your mother,” Kirishima commented, a little smirk on his face as he watched his friend hang up the phone. He bit his tongue, forcing himself not to comment on how normal their conversation was.

Bakugo narrowed his eyes, placing his phone in his pants pocket, “Shut up, shitty hair.”

“Will do,” Kirishima smirked with a satisfied nod as he leaned against the wall across from his friend. “I’m glad Uraraka’s okay too.”

Bakugo nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets. He sighed loudly, looking up to the ceiling as he frowned awkwardly, “I owe you.” The words weren’t quite right to express how good of a friend he’d been to him, but Bakugo wasn’t quite sure how to say it.

“No, ” Kirishima patted his shoulder before stretching his back. “That’s what bros do, man.” He understood.

The doctor exited the room, stepping in front of Bakugo with a smile. “She looks great.”

Bakugo felt his body relax on a loud and long exhale.

“We’re still keeping an eye on that head injury, but hopefully on Monday we can have the specialist come and heal her. And,” the doctor flipped through the chart. “If everything goes according to plan, she should be able to go home on Tuesday. Do you have any questions for me?”

“No, sir.”

“Alright,” the doctor nodded. “I suggest you get some rest yourself now, hmm?” He suggested as he stepped away.

Bakugo ignored the glare and Kirishima’s chuckling. “Don’t you start.”

“What?” Kirishima raised his hands in surrender, unable to contain his grin. He pushed himself off the wall as he started down the hall. “I can’t agree that you need to get some rest?”

“No,” Bakugo frowned watching him walk away. “Where you going?”

“Figured you crazy kids could use some alone time.” Kirishima gave a small salute as he kept moving. “I’ll let the others know.”

Bakugo had forgotten about telling their friends. Kirishima hadn’t even disappeared down the hall, and he was already standing in the doorway. With slow breaths, Bakugo kept his eyes on her sleepy face as she watched the TV mounted in the corner of the wall.

The footage of the building dominated the screen.

Rubble and concrete slabs filled the screen as a reporter recounted the accident.

No villains.

No bombs.

Just a minor earthquake and an unstable building causing the death toll to approach two hundred.

Bakugo couldn’t help but think that it had could have easily been two hundred and one.

“Did I fall?” Uraraka whispered, eyes glued to the screen.

He took slow steps into the room as he cleared his throat. “No,” he replied softly stepped into the room. “You um,” he stopped at the foot of her bed, gently placing his hands on her blanket covered ankles. “You, I think-”

Uraraka slowly turned to face him, eyes widening a bit with worry.

“You and Deku-” Bakugo still hadn’t decided how much of the blame the green haired boy needed to shoulder. “Were helping to evacuate people inside, and when Deku came out-”

He wondered if she could hear how loudly his heart thudded.

“You weren’t with him. I,” he paused, looking at her. “I found you with a kid. You had blood in your hair-”

Uraraka inhaled sharply, trying to recall what he was saying.

“When I took the kid, you collapsed.” Bakugo’s gaze left her eyes as he stared past her. “You had some metal lodged in your side, and you were bleeding really bad.”

That explained the long row of stitches on her side. “Is,” Uraraka cleared her throat. “The kid okay?”

Bakugo nodded, “Yeah, he’s fine. They found his mom.”

She felt herself relax into the bed a bit, ignoring the burn in her body. “Good,” she sighed with a small smile. Her eyes drifted close as she breathed slowly.

“You know I love you right?”

Uraraka felt her head snap up faster than she should’ve. Her jaw clenched, feeling her head throb. “What?”

“You-” He wanted to blame this on the stress of the last few days. “You know I love you right?”

“Of course.” Why would he doubt that?

His hands tightened a little around her ankles. “I thought you were going to die.”

Uraraka felt her breath catch as she saw tears catch on his eyelashes. “I’m sor-”

“You don’t get to die on me, Ochako.” Bakugo’s head dropped between his shoulders as he panted. “You don’t get to bleed out on me, say ‘I love you’, and die in my arms.”

“I-” She wasn’t sure what to say to him. Even without the morphine flooding her veins, the right words seemed impossible to find.

“The last thing I told you was you could have as many those stupid frosted animal cookies you wanted.” His eyes squeezed tightly trying to will away his tears. This was supposed to be a happy moment, and he couldn’t erase the memory of the life fading from her eyes.

Uraraka chuckled, tears spilling on her cheeks, “Come here.”

Bakugo’s head slowly raised, red eyes tired and grief filled.

“Come here.” Her hands padded against the bed, motioning for him to get in.

“I can’t-”

“It’s not like we haven’t shared a bed before.”

True, but- “I don’t wanna hurt you.” The bed was small, and it wouldn’t be comfortable for her to lay on her side.

“Get over here, Katsuki.”

Bakugo smirked carefully crawling into the small bed with her. He pulled her against his chest as her toes tickled against his ankle. Cradling a gentle hand against her scalp, he placed a kiss to the crown of her head.

“Of course you love me,” she whispered, digging her fingers into the fabric of his shirt. “You said I could have as many of those cookies you hate.” A smile broke through her tears.

“Dork,” he murmured affectionately against her forehead. “Don’t scare me like that again.”

She tilted her head up, meeting his eyes. “I won’t,” Uraraka promised softly.

“You need some rest,” Bakugo whispered pressing their lips together. Pulling away, his hands gently held her face as his thumbs stroked her pale cheeks.

“So do you.” Snuggling against his chest, Uraraka closed her eyes relaxing into him.

A nap sounded nice. “My mom is gonna come see you this evening.” His arms carefully looped around her as he held her.

“You called her?”

“Yeah,” he sighed sleepily, finally able to relax.

“Hm,” she chuckled lightly as she felt herself drifting back to sleep. “You do love me,” she teased.  

“Don’t you forget it.”

[riyerose]

The Heart of a Saiyan (sorry for the lame title)

Goku woke with a start. Beside him, Chichi slept on peacefully unaware of her husband drenched in sweat and quite visibly unnerved. He carefully slid out of bed, threw on a t-shirt and pants then tiptoed out of the silent home, taking to the skies. The fresh, cool night air felt heavenly against his heated skin yet the images of his dreams and the emotions he'd felt still gripped him tightly. Goku swallowed. He'd never felt like this before, not since his tail returned. The larger Saiyan stopped and hovered in mid-air.

His tail was wrapped around his waist. He slowly unlooped the furry appendage and watched it sway lazily behind him. Goku's hands balled into fists at his side. In his head, there was a sound that brought pain to his stomach and an awful taste in his mouth: Oozaru. His body twitched. It had been such a long time since he thought about the beast. Did it have something to do with his tail. But growing back? Goku felt lost and alone. But he wasn't. There was one other person on Earth who could possibly understand the turmoil inside of him. Placing two fingers on his forehead, Goku searched for that familiar ki and ITed away.

Vegeta stood at his bedroom door. He had planned to go in but just as his hand touched the doorknob, he heard and felt the presence of the idiotic third class clown he'd grown close to. Anger raced through him knowing Goku had ITed into his bedroom, again, but upon opening the door, Vegeta froze. The room was dark yet moonlight poured through the wide windows, enough to illuminate the pitiful, tortured expression on his beloved rival's face. He'd never seen Goku look as terrible as he did in the moment, not even after going against some of the universe's baddest and most despicable creatures.

"Kakarot." was Vegeta's only greeting.

Goku forced a cheery smile. "Hey Geta."

"What are you doing here, Kakarot?" Vegeta asked. "Surely you can't expect me to believe you'd like to spar with me at this hour."

The smile that struggled to remain on Goku's face fell completely as the spiky haired Saiyan shook his head. "Vegeta, have you been feeling...out of it since we got our tails back?"

Vegeta cocked an eyebrow. "Not at all."

"So it is just me..." Goku hunched over. "Why? I don't get it!"

"Kakarot, it's alright." Vegeta came over and placed a gloved hand on Goku's trembling shoulder. "Calm down."

Goku sighed and looked away. "I keep dreaming about Oozaru... It's still there inside me, that monster-"

"The Great Ape is a symbol of strength and power, Kakarot. In that form, we are at our mightiest. As Saiyans, Oozaru represents our truest nature: to overcome and dominate."

"That isn't me, Vegeta." Goku interrupted harshly.

Vegeta scowled. "You are a Saiyan, Kakarot. You can pretend to be an Earthling as you wish but your blood is the same as mine."

Goku suddenly stood from the bed. "Vegeta. I want to spar."

The Prince didn't resist. The clouds had drifted on and the moon was full and bright. Raw energy swirled around the two Saiyans, they hovered in the air, staring intensely at one another. Goku was the first to strike, charging into Vegeta with brutal force. Vegeta didn't hesitate to retaliate and soon the pair were zapping through the sky in an barrage of kicks and punches. The fight felt different from their other ones: Goku was struggling to keep himself composed while Vegeta found he had the upper hand and fought with a clear mind and precise maneuvers. Goku careened back after a bone cracking kick Vegeta landed to his side, growled animalisticly then powered up to Super Saiyan. Vegeta did the same, his icy blue eyes shining with glee as he and Goku flew at one another, resuming their attacks. Bright golden orbs of light burst from their palms, tearing up the ground under them. Goku brought his hands together, glaring fiercely up at Vegeta.

"Ka...Me...Ha...Me..."

Vegeta raised his arms upward, a strange red aura suddenly gathered around his body.

"Final...Flash!"

"Ha!"

Radiant energy blasts soared at one another, colliding as both sides sought to overpower the other. Goku was slipping, he could feel it. He screamed his lungs out, powering up past Super Saiyan 2, straight to 3. With the moon behind him, Vegeta was filled with power, a familiar primal sensation he hadn't felt since his first fight with Goku. How he'd missed that feeling and he accepted it completely. The air tremored with what sounded like an ape's roar. Goku felt fear run down his spine.

"Vegeta!" he yelled.

Looking up, Goku was struck. Vegeta was changing right before his eyes. His spiky blonde hair was no longer blonde, it had grown long, not as long as SSJ3 and stayed beautifully dark brown.

Reddish brown fur covered almost every part of his upper torso excluding his chest, his blue spandex were replaced with leather blue pants and even his white gloves and boots became a lavender shade with gold at the toe. Vegeta smirked and shot an incredible burst of energy into the feuding blasts. Goku could feel the weight crushing him entirely. He forced his body to stand and blasted the ki straight past Vegeta out of Earth's orbit. He fell to his knees, breathing heavily, pain boring into every part of him. Vegeta landed before him. Goku looked up. The Prince stood before him, mighty and majestic, radiant in every way possible.

"Vegeta..." he whispered the Prince's name.

Vegeta stared down at Goku, his eyes blazing with intensity. He had ascended to a new level, a level that was just out of reach for his rival because of how soft heartened he was, because he refused to accept and control the Great Ape to evolve into something glorious.

"Kakarot, are you alright?" Vegeta asked quietly.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Goku stood as Vegeta powered down back to his base form. "Thanks Vegeta. I'll-I'll see you later."

Goku didn't bother flying off. He ITed away, leaving Vegeta alone in silence. Why was he not thrilled he had finally passed Goku? Seeing the pained expression on the lovable idiot's face after he'd transformed stung Vegeta. He wanted to help even if his pride encouraged him to gloat and ignore the third class warrior. But they had grown too close, Vegeta couldn't leave him alone.

( For @cyevi~ It's just a little snippet but I'll be working on this cause this is giving me such a boost of creative inspiration! I did SSj4 anyways cause that form is so beautiful 😂)

[lahuertaflower]

The Shard: Part 2

[[Authors Note: Well, part two got done much faster than anticipated, so here it is! I am not going to lie, I teared up a bit writing this one because my heart. All rights of the characters are reserved to Pixelberry, I am just using them to continue to tell their story.

Book: Endless Summer/Hero

Tagging: @princesstopgun @endlesshero1122  If you want to be tagged in the next part, please let me know :) ]]

It was almost as if that was the wake up call the girl needed, and instantly her eyes shot open. The blue-green colour seemed hazy at first, but brightened at the realization of awakening. Inhaling slowly, she shakily pressed ahead and stepped through the barrier and onto the ground. The dirt shuddered and cleared back from around the females dainty feet while the ivory gown that wrapped around her slender frame fluttered down to her sides.

“I need to see him...I need to see Jake.” The voice trembled out, raspier than expected, keeping a low tone while she took a step backwards to lean against a rock, eyes fluttering shut again.

In that moment it was like her body was yanked through time and space, travelling at light speed and hurtling through thousands of stars. It was overwhelming to say the least, strenuous on her soul and causing a dizzying effect to course through her veins; at least, what felt like veins. Something about this travel was different, almost like existing but not. Eventually everything came to a stand still and there she stood, the pressure of her weight sinking into the sand, but not as much as it should if she was genuinely standing there. It was like being between reality and a dream and curiosity took over, pulling the young girl across the beachfront. Why was this where the stars carried her?

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“I don’t even know why I come to these things anymore to be honest Kaity. All it does is make the wounds split open. They never go away….you are always on my mind. You are always in my heart. Hell, I don’t even know why I am confessing all of this again. It has been five damn years and you still aren’t here and no matter what I do there is nothing anyone can find to make sense of what happened on this island. No research gives me the answers I need to bring you back.” Jake pressed his hands across his face, trailing them roughly through his hair and straining to keep it together. 

Absentmindedly, he kicked his scuffed up dark brown combat boots into the sand, the tiny particles swallowing up around them. He wished that the same thing would happen to him; all of a sudden the sand being quicksand and scooping him in. Maybe it would take him to Kaity, or it would more than likely lead to a giant cave of dirt and grime that Jake would be stuck in forever. Pulling his legs upwards, his forehead rested against his knees that were covered in denim that were a faded medium wash. The seclusion set in and finally, Jake began giving into the emotions bubbling up inside.

At this point in his life, Jake only allowed himself to break down like this in dire situations, and this reunion was always one of them. Having to explain constantly to friends and family members every gathering why you were alone was a truly sobering thing. He never went into detail about why there was never a significant other being brought home because they would never understand. It was like Kaity held him without any touch, always hovering over his shoulder. Jake yearned to drown in her love again, be able to gaze into those beautiful multi-coloured tinged orbs and watch as her face lit up like the fourth of July fireworks when he would call her “Princess”.

It was even harder to follow the appearance of being strong each day, when internally the fact that the one you loved so much was gone somewhere that seemed just out of reach. The ‘what ifs’ played through Jake’s head as if it was his favorite movie, but always turning into a revolving nightmare of trying to pull Kaity back from that transparent bastard who took her away. Plus, imagine trying to go over that story with anyone; it would get him locked away in a padded room for sure. Mike had tried several times to get Jake to go and talk to someone, a real professional, but each time he would get to the parking lot, he would hop back on his motorbike and speed off without a second thought.

“Ya know, I lived my life a long time of being able to turn and run and it was always the easiest solution. You kind of ruined that Princess, even now that you’re gone. You snuggled your way into my heart and made me go and fall in love with you. Hell, I even married you in that hand holding ceremony thing…” Jake paused, voice cracking as he fell apart at the thought of how beautiful she looked in that wedding gown, “I know, I know. You’d tell me that we aren’t even married anyways because we didn’t get to the year mark. Too damn bad for you though, that just because you weren’t here, doesn’t mean I stopped loving you any less. Couldn’t even drink you away, and trust me, I tried.”

Jake couldn’t help but give a stifled laugh before it was broken up by sobs, right hand reaching over to his left and twiddling with the metal band that was adorned on his ring finger. “”Went and got this one year after too. Not that it matters, but I have yours. Got it the same day and everything. You’d love it, very fitting for a princess like you. Could have had a small little wedding with all our friends and family with lots of flowers and any of that dumb stuff you would want. Raj could have done one of those great feasts of his and brought us all together just like old times. You could have met my family, finally. My mom and sis would love you, I just know it…”

Even though Jake would have a one sided conversation at the beach every reunion, this time it was different. He had never really gone on about these details, having locked them down because by getting them out into the open, it was almost as if he was admitting defeat. Was that what this was? Was he finally coming to the realization that the love of his life, his one true soul mate was gone? That only caused him to sob harder into his jacket sleeve, sniffling in the salty ocean air and coughing it out instantaneously as it burned down his throat. His heart crawled back up into his throat, choking him as more memories of their time together reeled through. It began to shift into what he had just been talking about; their marriage. This time though it was just like Jake had been describing. Big smiles on everyone's face while Kaity walked down their makeshift aisle that had a white silk laid on the grass and those glowing La Huerta flowers trailed along it, mixed with fairy lights that had a twinkling effect.

“How am I ever going to get over you?”

“J-Jake?” 

The voice flitted through one ear and out the other, the sweet innocence of Kaity’s tone filling his entire body, hair raising on the back of his neck.

“Of course, I should have known by now that eventually all this would catch up to me. I am going even crazier, hearing your damn voice!” Jake cursed out, tossing his head back in exasperation. His body shook, as if a tremor causing an electric current to pulse through every fiber of him.

“Jake…”

Biting down on his lip, Jake furrowed his brows and mumbled under his breath as he lifted himself onto his feet. “Clearly being out by myself is making me get Stockholm syndrome. Maybe Mike was right and I should go talk to a blasted shrink.”

It was in that moment that Jake McKenzie cautiously looked to the side of him, a sharp inhale filling his lungs as his legs almost gave out to take him back into the chilled sand of the beach. There she was, slowly cascading her way towards him along the shore line. The ocean water splashed up against her lower legs almost as if it was delivering her. The knots in his stomach was overwhelming, almost making it feel like he was about to be sick at the sight in front of him.

“Ka-No no...no, there is no way. Kaity...what are you? How?”

It was almost like the heart beats in his chest were creating a melody of their own special brand of song and without second guessing, he was running. It was the fastest that the brunette soldier had run, even with having been in battle before. It was like there was an invisible clock counting down and if they didn’t get to each other in time she would disappear again.

Kaity pressed on too, increasing her own speed as every breath was short and jagged, attempting to hold back tears of her own as they cleared the distance between them. The moon illuminated her pale skin, giving her a glow like none other as finally a smile broke across her pink tinged lips. “Jake!”

Finally, as if the world slowed down in that second Jake reached the love of his life, wrapping his arms around Kaity and when their eyes locked to each other for the first time, he could feel the pure love radiating off of their bodies. Left hand stroking across her delicate cheek, there was no words to explain everything that was coursing through every nerve. Taking in the appearance of the girl who he hadn’t truly seen in five years, Jake picked up on the tiny details that had changed. The longer locks of hair that cloaked over her shoulders, the slightly older look to her which was expected after the amount of days that had dragged by. There was a transparency to her skin too, giving her the impression of a ghost. It didn’t matter now, and he wasn’t about to quiz why. He could feel her, he could touch her and that was enough for him.

Without allowing another second to spring by, Jake finally crashed his lips against hers, craving the taste that had lingered since their last embrace and Kaity reciprocated it, adding her own urgency to it. This kiss was everything that could be wanted and more. They hadn’t skipped a beat, melding together and moving in sync as the waves crashed around them.

His free hand reached into her hair, entangling at the nape of her neck to be able to stabilize their kiss. It was incredibly difficult to not break down and fall from the overbearing weight of the moment. The blood was coursing vigorously through his veins, heart pumping so hard Jake could hear it. That instantaneous attraction that had been awakened long ago while flying to La Huerta reignited as they continued to kiss as if it would be the last time. 

Jake tossed that thought out of his brain almost instantly; not this time, no one was taking her away again.

This was their time now, they were never going to be ripped apart. Jake was going to hold as tightly as he could. They were going to get married and have the life together that they promised each other. Hell, if Kaity wanted he would give her as many babies as she wanted. They were going to be happy and inseparable and nothing was going to ruin it.

Kaity gasped for air between the small partings of their lips, but they immediately pressed again. The warmth of his body pressed to hers was something that she had been yearning, no, starving for. How she was here now was an anomaly, having no explanation and not wanting one either; at least not right now. As tears of joy prickled up in the corners of her eyes, they slid down and intertwined with their lips, the saltiness tingling on their taste buds.It still wasn’t enough to cause them to stop. One of her arms had now slid down, hand draped around Jake's bicep and squeezing slightly, nails digging in. He clearly had been using the free time of not being on the run to invest in hitting the gym.

The effect that each of them had on each other was exhilarating and almost alarming at the same time. Kaity would try to stock up on her oxygen before diving in for more each time. The temperature difference was becoming more obvious the longer they stayed intertwined in each others arms. Jacob’s body was running at frenzied levels of heat that were reminiscent of the La Huerta observatory lava pool. Hers on the other hand ran chilled, not due to being cold, but simply because she was in some weird paradox of only being half there.

Regrettably retreating from their embrace, Kaity looked up to study Jake’s features. She allowed her fingers to trace over his pronounced jawline, feeling the stubbled growth of his beard roughly graze over the pads of her digits. They continued on their journey, slowly fluffing the now shorter cut that adorned his head. Eyesight lining up again, Kaity saw the redness overtaking the whites of his eyes from the tears that had been shed. It didn’t change the fact though that even with the underlying sadness, Jake’s brilliant ocean coloured irises were still the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, drinking them in like a glass of water as if after all this time dehydration had set in.

Jake leaned his forehead to hers, not breaking contact of any sorts. The familiar scent of her was there, but slightly dulled out to the point that anyone else wouldn’t be able to catch it. “One thousand, eight hundred and twenty six days I waited for you to be by me again.” The words were nothing but a whisper, relishing in the touch of her hands as they traced across his skin. Goosebumps raised under each stroke, finally being able to have her there instead of being haunted by the memory of this.

[ladyiceflame-blog]

An Inconvenient Wedding

Chapter Five:  Girl Talk

“I....I think I’ll pass....for now....” nearly undone by her seductive tone, as he ran her invitation over and over in his head.  “Wh—why....” <why did he suddenly sound like Hinata?!?> “Why did you....stop singing?” he fought to master his sudden nervousness.  “You’re voice is....lovely...”

“Because I usually just sing when I’m by myself, I guess,” she returned.  Her fiery hair fanned out about her like an obedient shawl, undulating against her cloudy, voluptuous silhouette below.  “Conversation is better for company...” Kakashi set down his bathing caddie, and tested the water’s temperature with a prettier set of toes. “The water is a little warm for my taste, but you’ll probably acclimate quickly,” she advised.  “Shimogakurans are used to colder water.” Kakashi undid the sash of his robe, trembling slightly.  This wasn’t right.  This wasn’t his body.  He wasn’t sure who he was violating more, Miriyume or himself? He glanced back at her, and found her watching him with a profound look of concern on her fair face.  Had she seen through the guise?!? “You’re a shy one...aren’t you?” Miriyume factored aloud.  “I’m sorry.  I’ll turn away...” She did as promised, and rose up halfway out of the water, back turned, to pour herself some tea from a nearby teapot.  It was his first time he could notice the pearly, platinum seal that was tattooed on her back, between her shoulder blades.  He couldn’t discern much of its meaning, obscured as it was by the fronds of amber-hued hair that were plastered against it.  But it was elaborate.  The work of a fuinjutsu master. He quickly divested, and slipped into the warm water just as she turned back toward him, tea in hand. “The markings...” <were girls as blunt as guys in a hot spring?> “...on your back.  What are they?” “A mother’s insurance policy,” Miriyume returned, apparently unoffended.  “I’m indemnified...” “Against what?” “Myself, I suppose,” she smiled at her cryptic answer and sipped her tea.  “Don’t fret, I’m harmless.  Unless you are evil of heart.  Or cruel.  Or you just really annoy me.  Or if you’re a strawberry patch.  I devastate those...” Kakashi stretched his unfamiliar lips into what he hoped was a charming smile.  She was adorable, in an impish way.  And certainly not shy.  He sincerely hoped that the perpetual blush that must have been staining his cheeks would be blamed on the water’s temperature. “Devastate, you say...” Kakashi drawled back, “I heard tell once of a certain chunin testing ground in Kumogakure that was devastated by you, some years ago...” he continued, coquettishly. “Did you now?” Miriyume set the tea aside, and swam closer, stopping at the center of the pool.  “Were you also testing that day?” Despite the cloudy nature of the water, the chakra-fueled bio-luminescent aura he saw with his disguised Sharingan could supply an excruciating amount of detail about this buxom creature swimming before him.  And although a woman’s body could more easily conceal certain reactions, it was getting rather awkward. “No.  I was...not,” he returned, tucking in his long legs, grabbing the Icha-Icha novel from the caddie, and locking his eyes on the pages. New rule: Keep eyes on the book. “My chunin, and jonin exam were in Konoha, Lady Ice Flame,” he added respectfully. “Have we met before...?” Miriyume asked, swimming closer.  He could feel the turbulence of her movements, the growing radiance of her ambient chakra.  “You seem....familiar somehow...” “Everyone knows of the Lady Ice Flame, the Storm Sage-Priestess, member of the Wandering Lights Brigade.  That’s why we’re here, after all,” he/she blurted.  “To see you get....married...” he faltered at that admission.   “So...we’ve never met prior to now?” Miriyume pressed, closing in further, as she scrutinized his face with her sapphire-and-emerald eyes.  “Not in the Land of Lightning?  Or Water...?” “I...don’t get out much,” Kakashi refuted, turning a page.   “Why is that?” “Because...my students keep me pretty busy...” he squirmed, and focused harder on the book.  The steamy passage wasn’t helping matters.  Neither was the silken tendril of her long hair, brushing up against his naked skin. “So, you’re a teacher then....” Miriyume sighed, and took a seat beside him on the sofa-sized rock ledge. “I am,” he admitted, thankful for the opportunity to be honest.  “Does that bother you, Lady Ice Flame?” “Not at all.  But stop calling me ‘lady’ Ice Flame. Its so...formal.  I prefer Miriyume.  And technically, you outrank me.” Kakashi turned to regard her.  “You’re not a jonin?!?”  The surprise in his realization was tempered by the sublime sight beside him: She was in a half-reclined position, only about a foot away from him, eyes closed.  Her multi-hued chakra danced above her, lending her that strange, otherworldly glow that had haunted his dreams since seeing it in the skies above her homeland.  It made him gasp slightly. “Is it so horrifying?” Miriyume returned idly, as her fiery hair swirled with the turn of her head as she faced him. “No,” he answered, catching her eyes with his own.  There was a weariness there, hinting heavily that this was a question she had heard too many times.  “Its just....surprising, is all.” He returned his lavender eyes to the book. “What’s your name?” “Ka--” he faked a sneeze to cover the near disastrous slip.  That was close.  Too close.  Her power over him was alarming.  He invented a name: “—haru.” “Bless you, Kaharu,” she returned, and sent some of her chakra-aura his way with a lazy gesture.  The small ribbon of light contained a soothing element.  Almost a healing quality, except not as focused. He attempted to sneak another demure look at her, and found her blatantly staring at him. He felt his cheeks flush in response amidst the dancing lights that now fully enveloped him as well, and nearly fell off the ledge for embarrassment.  Had the sexy-jutsu failed?!? “Is that mashed, unripened plum fruit in your hair...?” Miriyume asked. “Ah....yes!” his relief making his answer sound forced, “I must have missed some of it in the shower...” “Is that some kind of herbal treatment...?” “You could say that...” he/she replied nervously, as Miriyume reached a hand out to pluck the novel out of his hands, and set it on the pool edge. “The acidity of that can’t be good, if left in too long.  Turn around, and let me wash it out...” she demanded, placing a firm hand on Kakashi’s narrower shoulder, and guiding her compliance.  “What charlatan herbalist talked you into this?” Miriyume asked as she pushed Kaharu deeper into the water to fully drench her silvery cascade of hair. “Ah...it was....” succumbing to the pleasure of Miriyume’s deft fingers massaging against his scalp, “...more of a prank...than a...service rendered....”  Kakashi sighed, as he let this dangerously alluring woman run her hands through his hair as he floated in ecstasy before her.   “Then you need to retaliate with a better prank...involving umeboshi, I think,” she advised, as she reeled him in closer to inspect the crown of his/her head.  He could feel the chiseled muscles of her calves juxtaposed with the more yielding flesh of her lower, inner thighs as he secured him in a vice-grip with her knees before her.  He was struck utterly paralyzed, savoring the tantalizing, nude proximity of the woman who had become his ideal since the night in Shimogakure... “...perhaps by flavoring their food for awhile.  Especially their desserts...” He was only dimly aware of her words now, focusing entirely upon the points of physical connection as he drifted at her tender mercy before her.   “...or inundating their daily routine with pickled plums...cramming jars of them in their cupboards, or leaving them in their sock drawers?  Gekido once filled my boots with pickled mackerel, because I clobbered him with a salmon.  But that kind of revenge can get expensive...” Her hands were at his ears now, triggering reactions best described by Jiraiya.  He bit down on his lip to quell the deeply appreciative noises that threatened to escape his throat.  Being in this body was torment. “...maybe just dump a bucket of fermented plum juice over their heads...in autumn,” she concluded.  “Revenge is sweetest when its unexpected.  Say....are you even listening...?” Miriyume tilted Kaharu’s head back to regard her panic-stricken eyes, as her ample bosom served as a happenstance pillow.  The Konohan teacher’s cheeks looked suddenly scorched. “Let me guess, you’re the pacifist type,” Miriyume smiled sardonically, above his/her dumbstruck face.  “That’s a strange stripe for a ninja...but a saving grace for a priestess, I suppose.  I seem to lack enough conviction in either belief to fully commit to one role myself...or so my teachers have told me...” With that announcement, Miriyume released her hold on Kaharu, and returned to her seat on the nearby ledge.  The palpable sadness of the admission was enough to snap Kakashi out of his sensual reverie, and he/she immediately resumed his book reading beside her.  He could still feel the silken press of her flesh against the nape of his neck... “Teachers don’t know everything...” Kaharu offered. “Mine claimed to,” Miriyume countered petulantly, “Even after the....’emergence’....” “The what...?” “So, what do you teach?” Miriyume veered off subject, clearly uncomfortable with the question, “Hopefully not literature...” “You’re not a fan of Icha-Icha novels, I take it....” Kakashi was quick to notice her askance look at his book. “Let’s just say that I don’t like the certain...liberties that the author takes with his subject matter.  Especially with the “Wild Ginger” installment.” “But “Wild Ginger” is one of my all-time favorites!” Kaharu defended.  “The masquerade-tango scene was–“ ”–the product of a fevered mind!  We wear more practical clothes up north!  At least, most of the time.  Jiraiya has the rest of the world believing that Shimogakurans traipse around in nothing but lingerie and furs!  And when someone ties someone else up with horse tack, its not always for amorous purposes!” Kakashi slowly turned to regard the riled storm priestess, as she scowled at the book in his hands.  Subtle realizations began to connect... “I take it that you have met the Toad Sage...?” he/she broached. “Of course I have, being a sage-priestess!  Senjutsu is a small world.  We have a tendency to run into one another.” “And he...offended you....somehow...?” “Let me just say, as a friend, that certain precautions should be taken at hot springs if you know that Jiraiya’s in the area,” she returned, and launched herself across to the other side of the pool.  She looked like a comet, the way her ethereal chakra light trailed behind her. It seemed that the little ginger-haired, spit-fire temptress of Jiraiya’s pen, and the Lady Ice Flame had more in common that Miriyume wanted to admit. Once again, the topic changed.  Kakashi was starting to suffer from conversational vertigo: “So, you live and work in Konoha?” Miriyume segued briskly. “I do...” Kakashi smiled at her crude evasion. “I’ve been meaning to make a pilgrimage to the First Shinobi Village, for spiritual and scholarly purposes.  Most of my time in this Land has been spent at the Temple of Fire, due to my Father’s close ties to the head priest there.” “Your father knows Chiriku?” “He studied alongside him at Chukaku-sama’s knee,” Miriyume answered.  “He even met my mother at the Temple.  So, yeah.  They go way back.  But...” “...you’re not the kind of priestess to sit around in temples all day...despite what your parents may have wished,” Kakashi dared. “How’d you ever guess?” Miriyume smiled back, sipping her tea. “I’ve heard that you are fascinated by ancient ruins, and mysterious places...” Kaharu continued. “Its true,” she freely admitted.  “I love scouring history books, re-discovering old, forgotten places.  It’s a hobby of mine.” “Then you’ve heard of the legend of the taijutsu temple, supposedly lost somewhere in the Land of Fire?” “Not ‘supposedly’.  The Temple of the Resplendent Sun can be nowhere else!” she retorted hotly.  Her eyes caught the mischievous glint in Kaharu’s eyes, as they peered over that be-damned book.  Did she enjoy ruffling her feathers?   “Yes, I’ve heard of it,” Miriyume amended more calmly.  “In fact, part of my desire to go to Konoha is to do more research on the subject.  Perhaps you could help me out...after all of....this,” gesturing to the area at large, back toward the campsites, “...is over.  And before you answer, know that I don’t ask for help often.  Or, at all, really.  But there’s something about you that feels so...immediately familiar, somehow.  I can’t explain it, but I trust it.” Her jewel-like eyes sought Kaharu’s across the luminescent mist that hovered between the two of them, as she waited for her response.  Did she affect everyone this way, or was it just him?  She was tickling nerves and shining lights into corners that usually sat numb and dark for him.  She was truly unlike any other kunoichi he’d ever met before. “Of course I’ll help you.  Whenever you ask.  Whatever you need.  And you should know that I don’t make those promises lightly, either,” he/she returned aloud.  In a much quieter voice, he added, “...even when you aren’t even aware of what help you need...” “...what was that?” Miriyume demanded, unable to clearly hear the last. “Nothing,” Kakashi returned curtly, turning a page.  Junko lay in her lover’s arms, and whispered, “...I never make promises lightly...” An omen. He had to stop this farce of a marriage....somehow. “But, won’t your new husband take offense at his wife gallivanting off in search of another Land’s history...?” “Probably.” “And you will still go?  Despite his displeasure?” “I don’t require his, or anyone else’s approval,” Miriyume snapped back.  “I am a shinobi sage-priestess, bound only by noble cause.”  A small flicker of energy flashed in the vapor that coalesced about her, lending tremendous weight to her words.  “And seeking truth is about as noble as one can get.” “I’m glad you feel that way,” Kaharu smiled blythly, despite the gnawing disgust the subject of her husband-to-be always seemed to cause, “It would be an awful loss to the shinobi world if you were to consign yourself to your bridegroom’s way of thinking.” The flickering in her aura became more intense, like a brewing storm.  “And what do you know of Asaito?” Miriyume demanded. “He’s aloof....overly pious...” he/she began carefully, as Miriyume swam closer, “And, if I may be so bold, immensely off-putting.  Very unlike the kind of man that I would want to associate with.” “Oh really?” the sage-priestess seemed amused, and began to paddle in lazy rotations at the center of the pool as her electric aura relaxed back into the friendly swirl of gentle light.  “So what kind of man do you associate with?” “Oh...you know,” Kaharu began.  “Nice guys.  The kind who....walk old ladies across busy streets....bring you flowers....love animals....remember special days...dry more tears than cause them...cook you dinner....” He/she trailed off slightly as Miriyume once again rose halfway out of the water to pour herself more tea.  Koharu’s grey eyes focused on the fuinjutsu emblem on her back, reflecting the moonlight.  Was it some sort of barrier jutsu...? “...falls so hard and fast in love that he does comically desperate things in order to be near you...” Kaharu finished. “I don’t think too many of those guys exist, Kaharu,” Miriyume sighed, as she slid back into the water with her tea.  “All the men I’ve had the displeasure of dating never had half of those characteristics...and only seemed to be after one...or two things.  Neither being my heart.” “The men in Konoha aren’t like that,” Kaharu defended. “Ahem.  Orochimaru,” Miriyume corrected. “There is always an exception.” “Madara...” “Exceptions!” “Itachi.” “Okay, most men in Konoha!” Kaharu snapped.  Actually, Kakashi was impressed by her knowledge of a place she’d claimed to never have visited.  “Are you sure you’ve never been to Konohagakure before?” Miriyume chuckled in magnanimous victory.  “Never.  So, name some of your favorite examples of ‘good guys’ from your village.” “Well....” he/she began, “All of the Hokage, of course.  Those who married chose very strong women, who complimented their lives perfectly.  And we have Jiraiya, of course,” gesturing with the book. “He is a good guy...even if he is an enormous pervert,” Miriyume admitted. “And we have Inoichi Yamanaka...Asuma Sarutobi...Might Gai...Rock Lee....Neji Hyuga...Choji Akamichi...Shino Aburame...” “Don’t forget Naruto!” Miriyume broke in.  “He’s far too young for the likes of me, but one day, he’ll make someone very happy.  I see it in his eyes.  That kid has a noble heart.” “That he does,” Kaharu replied back, carefully.  “Although, most don’t see it.  But his sensei–another good guy– does.  Perhaps you’ve heard of Kakashi?” Miriyume prompted her response with a noise somewhere between a scoff and a chuckle.  “Kakashi of the Sharingan...?  Of course.  Who hasn’t?  I’ve even met him a couple of times.” “So...what did you think?” setting aside the novel, focusing completely on her answer. “What’s to think?  He doesn’t give anyone much to go on, what with that mask and all...” “He’s always worn that mask.  For as long as anyone can remember.” “One has to wonder why.” “Perhaps to hide a scar...or some painful memory...” “Or a compulsive need to keep a barrier between himself and the rest of the world...?” “Don’t we all do that....to some extent?” Kaharu suddenly looked rather crestfallen. “I try not to,” the Lady Ice Flame replied, “Perhaps its just a psychological side-effect of my kekkei genkai on my Father’s side: always passively absorbing what my surroundings have to offer.  Or my Mother’s Ninshu training, but I don’t ever want to hide who I am.” Kakashi was starting to feel horribly guilty... Miriyume set down her tea, and swam to the middle of the pool again.  “There’s a danger inherent in locking doors against the world.  Sometimes the world will lock the other side on you,” Miriyume added.  “But if you say that Kakashi is a good guy, I will believe you.  You obviously know him better than I.” “I know he likes you—“ he/she let slip, a new flush of red spread out over his/her cheeks, “–I mean, I know he admires your...chest grappling....IRON chest grappling....technique!” Miriyume chuckled.  “I am a brawler by heart, and blood.  My taijutsu instructors will forever despair.” “The ability is there, you just lack the proper teaching,” Kaharu opined.  “I’ve worked with students like you before.” “Oh, really?” she looked equal parts amused and offended. “Taijutsu is the foundation upon which all other shinobi arts are built.  Your sword technique is proof of at least some training along these lines.” “When did you see my kenjutsu?” Miriyume’s eyes widened in surprise. “I...haven’t.  But the way you wielded the sack of rice at the iron chest tourney....strongly hinted at your routine use of a sword.”  It was a bit of a lie, but not much of one.  It had apparently scored him some points toward credibility as a teacher, though, gauging by the expression on her face. “I’m a nightmare of a student,” Miriyume warned.  “I scared most of my teachers.” “Then your instructors were hardly worthy of the title,” Kaharu stated smugly.  Konoha sensei relish the challenging students. “So where were they when I was accidently causing chakra comas...or creating Ice Fire?” “Probably sealing the Nine-Tails into a future student, just to make things more interesting,” Kaharu returned, sending a small splash of water toward Miriyume. “Hmph.  That’s a good come-back.  Destroying the Raikage’s Summer Retreat can’t even top that one,” she chuckled, sending a bigger splash toward Kaharu, wetting her face and her book. “Is this your way of asking me for ninjutsu lessons in water technique?” Kaharu sweetly inquired, as he/she enacted a rapid series of hand jutsu.  “High Tide Jutsu!” she announced, as a swell of water carried the Lady Ice Flame to the far end of the pool, and fully doused her, her tea, and her dry towel and robe. “So!” Miriyume sputtered, as she parted the curtain of amber hair that had been plastered across her face.  “We’re playing by those rules, eh?!”  The golden stars in her eyes flashed to life as her Renkingen activated.  “I’ll indulge.” She then sat back on her submerged ledge, and adopted a pensive expression, as her hands independently signing in an unorthodox series of jutsu...based on the elements. “Hmmm....now what should I call this new technique....?  ‘Smirking Revenge’...?  ‘Kaharu’s Come-uppance...?”  She finished with the sign for ‘snake’.  “Wait!  I have it!  ‘Bracing Bath Jutsu!’” she announced. Kakashi watched in puzzled wonder as her chakra aura flared, and the water surrounding her suddenly gained a hazy, sluggish quality.  Her eyes sparkled with undisguised mischief, and her roguish smile promised payback. What had she done? Then the chill of an icy undercurrent hit him, like a cruel slap to all of his skin at once.  He very nearly lost the disguising jutsu due to the shock. “This water was much too warm for my liking, anyway,” she laughed, as Kaharu forgot all modesty and leapt clear of the ice-rimed pool and ran off to the shower room.

[yourmysticmami]

[ff] Cowardice (Ch. 1)

Theme: The disappearance of MC, and the return of Rika.

Pairing(s): MC x Sari (only if you ship it bc I do)

Inspired by: this and this.

Author’s Notes: I’m not sure whether to make this end badly or happily, but either way, I promise to put my heart and soul into this for all of you ｡^‿^｡ I love you, sincerely. Even if there’s only one person on the other side of the screen supporting me, and even if there’s no one at all. That’s okay too. I’m just glad to have someone there, somewhere. Each and every reblog means the world, really. Thank you. ♡＾▽＾♡

The pitter patter of the rain and the whirring of the coffee machine simultaneously echoed through my ears. I was curled up on my favorite loveseat that rested in the corner of Sari’s coffee shop, watching the raindrops race each other to the very bottom of the window. I think my tears beat them again this time.

Being here is torture. The smell of Arabica coffee being brewed reminded me of Yoosung and his club. The busy cafe environment reminded me of Jaehee and her dream to own one someday. The silent “ka-ching!” of the cash register every time a customer orders something reminded me of Jumin and his astute business tactics. Sari, with her red, curly hair and black rimmed glasses reminded me of Saeyoung. It doesn’t really help that V literally has his own wall where he displayed his beautifully taken photographs. The posters of a particular male model who loved wearing incredibly tight pants hung on the walls surrounding V’s corner. Who would that be? Yeah, you guessed it. Our favorite narcissist, Zen. It’s pretty obvious that this was a popular hangout venue for the RFA. It was a place of comfort for all of us…how can something so nostalgic and precious only give me pain now?

One week ago…

Rika: It was quite funny, but I’m glad I didn’t have to go through it again haha~

- MC entered the chatroom -

MC: Hey, guys..

Yoosung: Gosh, I’m just glad you’re okay!;;

Zen: He’s right, something could’ve gone terribly wrong y’know

707: lololol what are you talking about

707: it’s RIKA!!!

707: she’d be fine lololol

Rika: omg that’s true~ lolol

MC: Guys…

Jumin: I think it’s foolish to assume someone would we okay simply based on them being “them”.

Jaehee: I would have to agree with Mr. Han on this matter;;;;

707: omg loosen up, both of you! lol

V: Haha, I see the chat’s lively again ^^

MC: Notice me, dammit! Ever since she’s gotten back, she’s all you ever talk about, the only one you ever talk to! I exist, you know…I’m here too!

Rika: Oh…MC…is that how you feel…I’m sorry…

Yoosung: Wait, Rika, are you okay?

Rika: No…I think I need to go for a bit.

- Rika has left the chatrrom -

Yoosung: What the heck, MC…

Yoosung: Why would you say something like that?!

Jumin: That was a bit uncalled for, but I think you need to calm down, Yoosung.

Zen: I kinda agree with trust fund kid…

Zen: But Yoosung’s right too.

Zen: What the hell was that all about, MC?!

MC: …huh. Whatever. You don’t even care, do you?

MC: …fine.

- MC has left the chatroom -

“Sorry,” screamed my mind as the scene replayed over and over again. “I’m so sorry.” My mind was buzzing with incoherent thoughts and regrets that resonated just from that brief memory. That one conversation was the last I’ve ever had with the rest of the RFA. I deleted the app, their contacts, and email addresses, everything. I mean, what’s the point? My position compared to hers was already made clear. They just love her too much. Even now, I’m sure they’re all furious…although I don’t blame them. Rika was the original. Her name is the R in RFA, for fuck’s sake. I can’t change that, and I was foolish for thinking I could.

…but what do I do now? They were the only family I had.

“Hey,” said Sari in a hushed voice as she sat right next to me, a mug of my favorite vanilla caramel latte in her grasp. Usually, I would be drooling to have my hands on that drink from miles away, but now, the sight of it made me sick to my stomach. I turned my head away the moment she tried to give it to me, and thankfully, she got the hint. “Not today either, huh?” She sighs. I’m sure I’m a burden, but it’s not like I really have anyone else to go to.

“So…what now?” she asked with that same concerned tone that she’s had ever since she found me crying on her doorstep nights ago. “Are you going to fly back home?”

“I don’t know,” I muttered, gulping down the lump that’s forming in my throat. “I have no one to come home to.” Vivid memories of the terrorist attack came back to me, and tears rose to the corners of my eyes.

“We’re sorry, MC,” cried the nurses and doctors. “We really are.” And they were, but I simply ignored their concern. I refused to accept it…believe it, even. If they meant it, they would’ve tried harder. So, I booted it. Ran. Ran faster than I thought I was even capable of. My feet took me to our car, the very car that my dad has been driving for over 10 years. The very car he used to take our pregnant mother to the hospital with. The very car she ended up giving birth to us in. The very car I slumped their dying bodies into and drove to the hospital with, just for them to not make it either way.

I remembered how my dad always drove, and how my mom was always in charge of the music, and we were in charge of being those annoying siblings who always fought. I, being the older sister of only three minutes, always ended up apologizing even if it wasn’t my fault. It was because, despite all the arguments, I loved my brother. And now, a million apologies wouldn’t even be able to make up for not being able to save all of them, for living instead of dying with them.

I took the car and drove. Drove until it ran out of gas in the middle of nowhere. I ended up sleeping in it for multiple nights until someone came and offered to help, and when I refused to leave the car, they slept with me until the tow truck came. Even now, their face was a blur, but I remembered them to have particularly reddish hair. It wasn’t Saeyoung, by any chance, it couldn’t have been…but this time, I saw his face in place of the guy. In fact, I saw all of the RFA members there with me.

After all, the roles of the kind guy and the RFA were pretty similar. They rescued me when I was left at rock bottom, all alone.

But like that guy, they’re gone.

“I’m going for a drive,” I told Sari as I began to stand up. “And I”m not coming back.” Her eyes met mine, and her deep concern for me was rising up in the form of tears; however, before I commented on it, she fluttered them away with her long eyelashes. “Are you sure?” she asked, her voice cracking a bit in the process. I pretended not to notice as I pulled her in for a tight embrace. “I’m sure.” I paused for a bit as she returned with a tighter hug. She was trembling.

“Thank you for everything,” I whispered as she burst into sobs as I held her in my arms.

I asked Sari to hold onto my phone and other belongings before I took off. The only thing I had on me was a backpack filled with enough clothes to last me a while, and a wallet with sufficient money to last me until I get settled down and find a job. I wasn’t sure where I was going, just like the night I lost my parents, but I know I’ll find it along the way. After all, my family’s watching over me…

I also told Sari not to tell the RFA I left, but knowing her, she’s just going to be giving me a headstart before she eventually spills the beans. With that in mind, I stepped on the gas pedal until the speed meter reached a little over 120 mph. I don’t want them to find me. I don’t want them to find out I’m this much of a coward. As those thoughts swirled in my mind, tears began to spill down my cheeks and onto the wheel. I wanted to scream.

140 mph.

I couldn’t take it anymore…

160 mph.

Mom…Dad…Eugene…the RFA…Sari…

180 mph.

I’m sorry for being such a disappointment…

2 0 0  m p h.

The last thing I saw were the headlights of a massive truck. There was a deafening ringing in my ear as I closed my eyes. Ah…is this it? Is this how I die? How pathetic.

The last thing I wanted was to die alone…but look at me now.

CRASH!

“Eh?” Sari turned around to find the MC’s mug filled with vanilla caramel latte in pieces all over her kitchen floor. Her eyes widened as her trembling fingers dialed Jumin’s number.

“Sari? Hello. Is something wrong?”

[To be continued…]

[itsthebeatingofhishideousheart]

The trees were green, the sky was blue and the water of the lake sparkled like so many diamonds. Karis stopped the car in the clearing and stared at the vista before her, she smiled.     “I think we found a good spot” she said. Jeannie smiled back at her friend and climbed from the car, taking a deep breath of the crisp air. She was grateful to Karis for bringing her out here, they both needed a break but Jeannie was the one running away. Her boyfriend had dumped her in a very unceremonious fashion and taken up with her sister. Jeanie had needed to get away for a bit and clear her head so Karis had suggested a few nights under the stars.     “Right. Shall we get the tents up and then a brew I think?” asked Karis. She rubbed her hands together and opened the boot of the car. Jeannie lifted her tent out and they had them up in a few minutes. Karis set up two foldaway chairs and started boiling water for tea while Jeannie began digging through the bags for the biscuits.     An hour later, they were sitting before the lake with tea and biscuits watching the sun go down.     “I could get used to this” Karis sighed. Jeannie agreed and settled back further into her chair. A few moments later, they both jumped as a figure almost fell out of the bushes and lay panting on the packed dirt. Karis placed her cup beside the chair and dashed across the clearing to the exhausted girl.     “Let me help you” said Jeannie. They each took an arm and guided the girl over to the chairs and made her sit before passing her a mug of tea.     “Are you okay? Did you get lost in the woods?” asked Jeannie. Karis raised an eyebrow at her and Jeannie blushed. The woods they were in had a main road running in a big circle around the edge, you couldn’t get lost in it and it would only take a few hours to cross from one side to the other. They stared down at the girl but she didn’t answer, just continued to sip her tea. The yellow dress she wore was torn and dirty and there were twigs in her blonde hair. Jeannie knelt down in front of her and smiled.     “What’s your name, hon?” she asked. The girl raised her eyes; her brow was furrowed as if she was deep in concentration.     “368 miles is a long way.” Jeannie and Karis stared at each other, eyebrows raised.     “Yes, it is a long way. What’s your name?” repeated Jeannie.     “Melinda. It’s such a long way, I don’t want to be dragged that far.” Tears began to roll down her cheeks; she sniffed and swiped them away.     “Who’s going to drag you away? Is someone chasing you?” Karis asked. She placed a hand on Melinda’s shoulder but was careful to keep an eye the surrounding shrubbery.     “The monster cam for us, it took John last night and came back for me this morning but I didn’t wait. It marks you as a victim, look” Melinda said. She raised her arm to show three vertical lines down her forearm, they were very thing and shallow like kitten scratches.     “You probably caught your arm on some brambles” Karis began but Melinda was already shaking her head.     “No. The monster marked me and I’m next. It likes to tenderise its meals and it drags you one mile for every person it’s killed and eaten. It was just supposed to be a story but it’s true. It spoke to me! It scratched me and then said 368. That’s how far it’s going to drag me. I don’t want to die!” Melinda suddenly collapsed into a sobbing heap on the ground.     Jeannie gave Melinda her tent for the night and they offered to drive her back to town in the morning.     “What do you think?” Jeannie whispered as they slipped into their sleeping bags.     “She’s out of her fucking gourd is what I think” hissed Karis. Jeannie stifled a laugh and propped herself up on an elbow.     “She seems to believe it. I don’t know what to think. It’s not a campfire tale I’ve ever heard before.” Karis agreed. There was nothing they could do this evening anyway so they lay down their heads and tried to get some sleep.     The next morning, Jeannie shivered in her sleeping bag as a breeze blew across her bare shoulders. She opened her eyes and frowned, there was a hole in the tent just above her head. Jeanie pulled on a grey hoodie and crawled out of the tent.     “Tell me what’s wrong with this picture?” Jeannie stood up and moved next to Karis, following her gaze but all she could see was a big empty space behind the tents. An empty space? Jeanie’s eyes grew wide as it suddenly clicked into place.     “Where’s the car?” she cried. Karis just stood with her hands on her hips for a moment before kicking one of the canvas chairs as hard as she could.     “Melinda’s gone too. She must have taken the car to get away from her bloody monster!” The last few words came out in a growl and she kicked the other chair.     “Calm down, Karis. We’ll pack up our gear and head back to the road and then call the police.” Jeannie stopped as the sound of sirens floated through the trees. They looked at each other before running back along the path they had driven the day before until they reached their main road. Three police cars and an ambulance were parked near the end of the dirt road.     “That’s my car!” cried Karis. She ran forward but a policeman held her back and began asking her questions. Jeannie chimed in where appropriate but neither mentioned the monster and its dragging fetish. Jeannie looked over the policeman’s shoulder at the car. The driver’s side door was open and there was blood splashed on the inside and over the seats. On the road were bloody drag marks leading down the road and away from the car. Jeanie swallowed and linked her arm through Karis’.     It was almost dark again when the police finally let them go but Karis was told she couldn’t have her car back yet. They found a little place where they could rent a car and then drove back to their camp site in silence.     “I hate these little Ka’s. You can’t get anything in them. We better be able to get all our gear in here” said Karis. They turned into the woods and stopped at their clearing. Both had decided that enough was enough and they just wanted to go home. They packed up their gear in silence until Jeannie started to take the second tent down; she voiced a small shriek and backed away from it.     “Holy shit” she muttered. Karis looked at her before bending to examine the tent and giving a small cry of her own. The hole that Jeannie had spotted that morning was in fact, three long slits in the material.     “Like Melinda’s arm” whispered Jeannie. Karis Shook her head and just ripped the tent in two.     “She was talking crap. We haven’t been marked. Come one” spat Karis. They left the tent on the grass and climbed into the car, skidding away from the clearing.     It took a while to get home but once they pulled up to their street they saw why. The street was cordoned off with police tape and they were swarming everywhere.     “Move along there, madam” came a voice. Karis raised an eyebrow and stared at the young officer.     “We live up there.”     “What number?”     “87” called Karis. The officer hurried off before returning and allowing them through but they had to drive in a complete straight line to their house and park in the driveway. A stretcher was being carried past them and a body lay on it, covered by a blanket. It shifted a little, as the paramedics stepped off the curb, to reveal a few bloodied strands of blonde hair and a yellow dress. Karis and Jeannie stared at each other, trembling before Jeannie nodded at the dashboard. Karis turned her head and looked down at the milometer. It had been on zero when they left the campsite and it now read 368.     “It was real. It dragged her here to let us know it hadn’t forgotten us. 369 miles. Holy Jesus Christ” said Jeannie. They sat in the car and watched the bushes around them sway as if from an unknown hand.