It goes like this: muffled whispers behind closed doors, a voice gets louder and louder; a shout, glass breaking, then half-swallowed sobs.
Ruruka is playing by herself in the kitchen, pressing cookie cutters into play-doh for a tea party with her toys, when the door is thrown open.
"Papa!" she crows with joy, too young to put together the pieces, and when he storms past her without a word, Ruruka can only look at his retreating back and wonder what this bitter feeling that's settling in her stomach is.
. . .
"You can't trust anyone, Ruruka," Mother tells her, when she is seven years old. "People will always betray you."
Mother is coated in the distinct stench of alcohol when she says it, and the next day she sleeps late into the afternoon, but Ruruka remembers her words even if Mother doesn't.
Three months later, the divorce papers arrive, and the next day Mother doesn't wake up.
. . .
Father doesn't want Ruruka anymore. He has a new family now, with a pretty young wife and a chubby newborn. There is no room in his life for a sad little girl with a dead mother.
. . .
Ruruka has to attend therapy sessions twice per week. Her therapist explains addiction to her, as if anything could soften the blow of Mother's death.
Ruruka wonders, briefly, if Mother liked Ruruka's sweets instead of alcohol, would Mother still be with her?
Ruruka locks away her grief, and channels her feelings into her craft.
It's not long before she wonders again, less briefly each time.
. . .
At thirteen, Ruruka wins her first pastry contest.
Yoi comes to congratulate her, and before Ruruka even knows what she's doing, her lips are pressed against his. She panics for a moment, afraid she's done something she shouldn't have, but when she feels Yoi's smile as he returns the kiss, something like happiness bubbles in her chest.
Strong arms encircle her, holding her close, and Ruruka feels, for the first time in years, like she's home.
. . .
There are girls at school that used to be her friends. But after Mother's passing, Ruruka lost interest in so many things, and Yoi and Seiko are the only friends she's managed to hold on to. And these girls that were once her friends, but no longer are, sneer when she walks past, whispers and giggles following her along with their eyes.
Mother told her about an English saying once, "Kill them with kindness", so that's what Ruruka does. She bakes a batch of light and delicate pink macarons, and delivers them to the girls with a handwritten note about how sorry she is for having ignored them.
They eat up the macarons along with her false apologies.
Ruruka has them falling at her feet before the day comes to an end.
. . .
They have their first fight after eight months of dating. For an awful moment Ruruka considers bringing Yoi some of her special candy, so they'll never have to fight again.
When the moment passes, Ruruka realises something.
She spends her afternoon working on the tastiest selection of sweets she's ever made, and wraps them in a red box with a silk ribbon. She takes them to Yoi's house, where she forces herself to breathe deeply while she waits for the door to open.
Yoi is quiet when he sees it's her, and that's okay. She has something to tell him, and she's not sure she won't lose her nerve if he speaks first.
"Yoi-chan," she says, in a voice smaller than she is. He's looking at her, and it takes so much to meet his gaze as she's talking to him. Mother's last words echo in her ears, but they're drowned out by the staccato drumming of her heart against her chest, and Ruruka wants to believe in Yoi.
One more deep breath; in, then out.
"I love you."
. . .
She has Yoi, and she has Seiko. Yoi do anything for her, because he loves her. Seiko will do anything for her, because Ruruka is her only friend. And if she needs anything else, well, she's learned how to get whatever she wants using her sweets.
Ruruka Ando feels invincible.
Her invincibility is transient.
. . .
It starts with a Sunday afternoon dinner.
Yoi cooks it, of course, but Ruruka makes dessert. Yoi learned to cook family sized dinners with his parents, so they end up with more food than they need. They eat their fill, and pack the leftovers away into bento boxes for lunch.
Afterwards, they are curled up on the couch together, when Yoi yawns.
And Ruruka thinks, wouldn't it be nice, if eating a large meal didn't make you so tired?
That's where it all starts to fall apart.
She asks Seiko to help realise her idea. She knows it will blow the Hope's Peak examiners away. She knows she can rely on Seiko, because Seiko is her friend.
But instead, Seiko embarrasses her, ruins her, has the three of them expelled.
Ruruka is lost and humiliated, haunted by the words of a dead woman that mock her for thinking she could rely on someone else.
She has no Mama, she has no Papa, she has no future. All she has is Yoi.
A poisonous thought enters her mind: but for how long?
. . .
A year later, the world ends.
Ruruka watches on the TV. She watches the destruction of cities, watches children hunt and torture adults, watches classmates murder each other in cold blood.
Ruruka thinks it would be so easy to give up, and accept that Mother was right.
But when Yoi wraps himself around her like a blanket and whispers about how much he loves her, how he'll keep her safe, and how despair will never reach her doorsteps as long as he still stands.
"Promise you'll never betray me." she whispers each night before they sleep.
"Never." he responds, and finishes the mantra with a kiss on her forehead.
Some nights she believes him.
. . .
News of the Future Foundation reaches them, and Yoi manages to make contact. Agents are dispatched to bring them in safely, and Ruruka finds herself in a building of strangers. She doesn't trust any of them, but Yoi insists they need the Foundation's resources, that Ruruka will be safer, with more people to protect her.
Still, she refuses to leave their room when Yoi isn't with her.
. . .
All the Future Foundation heads are called to gather together to discuss the infractions of Makoto Naegi. Ruruka doesn't like it. It would be easy to pick them off with everyone in the same place.
She confides in Yoi about her fears before the meeting. He understands, agrees even, and reassures her that even if something terrible were to happen, he would happily die protecting her.
When the attack happens, Ruruka forgets how to breathe. That awful black and white bear is prattling on about something on the screen before them, but she can't hear the words over the sound of blood rushing through her ears. Her heart rattles her ribcage, and her limbs are frozen.
But then Yoi places one hand on her arm, and cards the fingers of the other through her hair, while he murmurs into her ear. He grounds her, and before long the panic has passed, and Ruruka is back on solid ground, right in the middle of her worst nightmare.
. . .
It's too much. She can't take it any more. Paranoia is eating her from the inside out.
Seiko betrayed her once, and now is trying to kill her. Yoi is the only one here she can trust, but that isn't enough. He can't protect her while they sleep. He can't stop the others from using the exit, not forever.
Ruruka's body stiffens and she thinks that she can't stop him from using the exit. She's sitting on the couch while he barricades the door. His back is turned, and she has a small dagger he pressed into her hands after the encounter with Seiko. She could kill him, right now, and stay locked safely inside this room to guard the exit. It would be so easy.
Mother would say it's the smart thing. She loves Yoi, but she never wanted to be part of the Future Foundation. She wouldn't be here if it weren't for him.
Maybe he wants her dead.
Maybe he's in on the whole thing.
Maybe he is part of despair, and has been all along.
Maybe that's why he could love someone so broken.
He turns around and smiles at her, and Ruruka feels her heart sink.
She pops a candy into her mouth, and pulls Yoi in for a kiss.
. . .
She wakes up, but something isn't right. The room is bathed in a harsh red glow.
Mother stands before her, with bloodshot eyes and pale skin. "Why did you betray me, Ruruka?" she hisses. "Why didn't you want to die with me?"
Her skin itches.
Yoi is next to Mother, his face purple, blood trickling from his left eye. He is silent, but his stare is so intense that Ruruka feels it like a worm burrowing into her flesh. She turns away from his gaze, and there is Seiko, eyes wide and feral. "You killed me!" she howls. "I tried to be your friend and you killed me! "
"No," Ruruka whispers. "No, I-"
"Traitor!" Seiko screams.
"Traitor." Mother agrees. They chant it like a chorus.
"You killed us all." Yoi's voice is quiet, but she hears it like a death knell.
She squeezes her eyes shut, and clamps her hands over her ears. The itching is getting worse, like something writhing underneath her skin. There is a clattering sound, and the accusations are silenced.
Ruruka dares to take a peek. She is alone again, with only a shining, curved dagger on the ground before her.
Ruruka understands.
She takes the dagger in her hand.
She'll make the writhing stop.