Prologue: The Cell Door Opens

In this world, some people are born with, and some are born without. And some are born in between, but of course, no one likes to think about them. People like their little boxes, except when it comes to fitting in said boxes.

This is the story of all of these girls, and even a few ghosts. Of course, it goes without saying that they have an important game to play too.

The air from the window has changed.

Last night there had been a storm. I smelled it from my window, sweet rain on leaves and charred tree branches. The smell of the wind, the grime of the clouds... it was my only reminder of the outside world, of its existence. These days, the sensations from the open window meters above my head are the closest thing I had to freedom.

It gets monotonous, after a while.

Now the night sky is dark. There is no moon. It's lonelier without it. When the moon and sun are gone, I sometimes think the world has ended and it just hasn't reached me yet.

I can be truly morbid sometimes.

Can't be helped, I suppose. Things have taken a pessimistic turn for me.

I uncurl from the blankets. I feel stiff, clammy from many nights under the same covers with no company, little changes in food, and no bath yet. It grows wearisome, of course. This is how it has to be, however. When you are different, certain laws and ideas don't work on you.

It's for my own protection they tell me.

That's what they say every day, when they say anything at all.

I have started to wonder if it is for theirs instead.

I still don't know why they're doing this, or for who.

There is a loud creaking noise from the other side of the room. The hinges on the doors need to be oiled again. They usually do. For such an opulent room, it's not very well taken care of.

Not for the first time, I get the absurd idea that they want me to try breaking out.

And go where?

They'd probably kill me. Or they'd try to anyway. It'd be too much of a health risk for me to go outside. I wouldn't know. i've never not been safe.

I look at my wrists. The chains for the handcuffs are long broken, but that doesn't matter. The seal isn't for them. It never has been. They cover the marks.

the door creaks all the way open and I lift my head. I do not speak, I never have, not to the people who walk in and out. They usually never talk to me, only at me, like I am useless and unable to talk back. Or that if I speak, it will be a mountain of torture and swear words and suffering. Whatever swear words are.

So fair is fair I suppose.

The woman walks in with a food tray. They left a name embroidered on all of my precious items, but I am relatively certain it isn't mine. Still, I like the name, so I keep it in my head, use it in private, addressing myself as though I am a queen and my toys are my subjects and these people are my servants.

Tne servant places food on a nearby table, eyes downcast while she arranges the silverware. Then she pauses, and for the first time in I don't know how long, she looks at me. Someone looks at me.

"You have been summoned for tomorrow's breakfast." Her voice quavers, bundles of nerves and smelling like mint. "You have been called to take a bath and make yourself presentable. Is that understood?"

I must admit, I am impressed that she does't stutter and manages to look at me at the same time. Most don't do that. Then again, most don't look at me at all. I decide to nod. I haven't spoken in years, at least not loudly enough to talk to strangers. My voice will sound like a snake's.

Perhaps that is the idea.

Regardless, my prison is letting me taste fresh air. How could I throw away the chance?

Within moments, the cuffs were off and I was left to face my bare wrists, my untainted skin.

The maid goes away as quickly as she arrives.

I smile and eat my dinner.

Let us hope I can control my anger this go around.

In this world, there are the destiny tattoos, the conductors of fate, the special strings that bind people. In this world, the ones who you are drawn to are a significant source, and should never be taken from granted. Friends, lovers, acquaintances, we meet people for a reason.

Kominato Ruko slept on as the train rumbled onward, towards an old city, a new life. She wasn't very comfortable, not even in these nice train seats. Even in her sleep, she shifted under her jacket and squirmed into the plush fabric.

Nightmares can even make a massage chair uncomfortable.

She dreamed of a ruined city, of her broken shoes catching her in potholes. The air was thick with smoke and fog that made her cough until she saw stars.

Ruko brushed her brown hair out of her face, continuing to run. Something shrieked from inside an echo of a building and she forced her legs further, whimpering for breath.

Was it chasing her? Or was it simply happy, happy for reasons she didn't want to know? Maybe they were happy because the world of normal people was over. In a place like this, there were only monsters left.

The cuffs chimed around her wrists. She ignored them. She had to get away from whatever it was. She had to get away to the quiet, to where she could focus and could, could-

Could what, exactly? Fight it? Escape was more likely than that and Ruko had no idea where the thing even was.

A loud clattering sound prompted her into action again and she hurried down another block. Something went flying from the force of her foot. It squelched. She didn't look. She couldn't look. She ran until she fell, skidding into a piece of a wall. Ruko saw stars again and she coughed. Blood trickled down the back of her neck.

At the sound of footsteps, she froze. Light footsteps dragged down by heavy shoes. They tapped and thunked across the broken concrete.

'hurry...'

'hurry...'

She couldn't open her eyes. Ruko curled in on herself, covering her ears. The footsteps drew closer until they stopped. They were so close.

"Hello," they said. Child's voice, feminine voice, younger than her, maybe? "What are you doing here?"

She flinched, curling away. "What… am I…?"

"Did you get trapped here?" Airy, a voice like the sunlight through a window. She should open her eyes. She couldn't. She tried. It worked after a few moments, and she blinked the pain from her eyes.

A ghost stood in front of her, eyes as pale as the moon. She had the tiniest frown on her cherubic face, more of a pout. "What are you doing here?"

Ruko shifted slowly into a sitting position. "T-Trying to get out."

"Oh." The girl paused. "Yeah, you should leave. There's nowhere to go, but you should probably leave, die in somewhere peaceful. It's the least you get for trying. Trying to save us, trying to save the points. You gave us so much power, you worked so hard." The ghost girl knelt, gently tipping Ruko up by her chin. Ruko jerked away at the chill on her skin. She managed to get to her feet again, running once more.

"You're going the wrong way," sang the girl. The footsteps, her footsteps, started again. "That's towards the tower, that's towards the end. Ru is going the wrong way."

Ruko didn't care where she was going, she just wanted to get away.

"Come back, Ru! Let's battle together! Let's fight! Ru! Ru!"

She woke, starting in her seat. She wiped her forehead. Ruko let out a small sigh of relief, resting her hand over her chest. "Just a dream," she mumbled. "Just a dream…"

Her wrists thrummed white and black and gray, the color beginning to drain.

If only this train ride was a dream.

A/N: Yay, this chapter is done! This is my first big WIXOSS fic. It's a soulmate/powers!AU that still plays with WIXOSS. Sort of. It's complicated and fun. I like it! Anyway, please tell me what you think of it! Usual warnings apply!

Challenges: Anime/Manga Diversity K19 and WIXOSS Novel With Prompts: prompt - jail