Okay so, I know exactly what's going to happen in Lost In The Frost, I just wanted to get some creative juices flowing more for the next chapter, which will probably be posted in a day or two. No worries :3

Anyways, this is my dark take on Pretty Cure, a more realistic take of after Futari Wa ends. My first one-shot.

K, let's roll this story up…it's in the POV of Nagisa, by the way.

I don't think this will ever really go away.

It's a scar, no, a stitch that keeps opening up. One day you think you're fine and healed enough, but then something opens again. Something awful and vile bleeds out, the agony indescribable, until passing out numbs the pain.

I'm talking about those nights when your head knows, but your heart refuses to realize that no matter what, things will never be the same again. Problems will never be as little as my hair-do or my grades. Those nights when memories you thought you'd bury deep enough to die bubble up to the surface in a flood, when flames rush through your heart to burn up every shred of happiness you might have and hit you with vivid flashbacks. Those flash backs are so vivid, that you can still feel the physical pain of when the zackenna's ice cold hand squeezed the life out of you, or the emotional pain of feeling like there was no way we could win. I got over that, so why can't I get over this?

I sighed. This was one of THOSE nights.

I pulled my curtains closed, shut my door, and sat in the corner, cradling my knees. My knees are the only thing I'll ever get to cradle. Do you think any man would marry a woman who has killed and sent people to the darkness? Do you think that I would be able to live with having children, so they could have a mom that was a murderer? I didn't close my eyes, because the memories are even thicker that way.

Another flashback hit, the time when Luminous had to block the café. Why didn't I stand up and protect it, or protect Honoka and Hikari? Hell, why didn't we just let the world fall to pieces? The Field of Light had their Queen destroyed, so we had to step in a second time thanks to my carelessness in the first place. Why didn't we just let this world, the Field of Rainbows, crumble like it's fate had shown us? I wouldn't have to live with this, and nobody else would be suffering. Mepple and Mipple, Pollun and Lulun, they would probably rather be dead as well. Ryota, he has such an awful sister.

I grabbed the wood from my bed stand, clutching harder and harder for dear life. Hard enough for my tan knuckles to go ghost white. I want to cry, but no tears are coming. I want to die, but for some reason I keep holding on. Why do I keep holding on?

Why the hell is this worth it? So I can fight off the Dotsuko Zone ONCE AGAIN? So I can fail high school? So I could grow into an adult bum, just to die from old age? What purpose does all of this serve?

I finally let go of the night stand with one hand, grabbing the rubber handle of a knife. Stroking the rust and blood dried up to the sharpest part of the blade, I realized that I'm here to suffer for what I have done. I don't cut myself now for dying, I cut myself enough that I will survive, but feel the agony. I sliced my arms on old scars, to make the pain even worse. In an odd way I feel satisfied, and I'm not sure if it's because I'm getting what I deserve, or if I'm sick and enjoy pain and that's why I deserve the punishment. It's all one big bloody circle, and there's no way out of it. Do I WANT to get out of it though?

As I'm carving, I realize that it's making me think more about the past. The bloody battles. The dark thoughts that never really go away. I've made a big footprint to all of life out there, and definitely not a good one. How many lives did I take? How many things did I destroy? How many opportunities have I thrown away for myself and friends? What would I be doing right now, at this very moment, if I was never Pretty Cure and continued being a normal, teenage girl? How do I bring myself to sleep at night, or wake up in the morning, or continue to take things for granted?

I dropped the knife on my rug, the fresh blood on it already drying with the rest. Why am I asking myself these questions? Does this mean that I'm crazy? Do I care about being crazy? Why do I need to ask myself how I feel? Is it really me asking me these questions?

I plugged my ears, because the memories are now into how loud the Zackennas screamed their own name, how Cure White would scream for my help, how Pollun tried to save our weak selves on multiple occasions. They were screaming at me, punishing me, ruining me. I pressed harder and harder into my ear drums, but that just seemed to trap them in more. "MAKE IT STOP! MAKE IT STOP! PLEASE!" I can't tell if the liquid running down my cheeks is tears or blood. I just want to be trapped in the darkness like the rest of them we destroyed. Did we really kill them, or did we just send them somewhere awful, dark, and lonely?

"MAKE IT STOP!"

As soon as I finished screaming that, I slowly unplugged my ears. All I could hear was the blood from my knife dripping on the hardwood. Drip drop. Drip drop. I had realized that by wanting it to stop bad enough, I could control it. If you want anything bad enough, you can control it.

A thin stream of light grows bigger and begins to devour me in brightness. I see a silhouette of someone standing at the door, which seems so distant from me right now, and as it comes closer I realize that it's Honoka. She knows what I'm going through, and she goes through it too, I could tell just by the look of empathy on her face. I look at the bright red scars on my arm, and wonder how that would help me, or get rid of my depression. As I see Honoka, I realize that she is my reason for living. We aren't vile people, because we were merely protecting what we value. THEY'RE vile because they can live with it, because they don't realize that they are in the first place. There is a reason to live, it's out there somewhere, and Honoka, Hikari and I will find it together.

Hikari follows behind her, and they both sit on opposite sides of me. We all hugged, because we needed the physical and mental comfort of empathy and understanding. They're the only people besides me that truly understand.

So how was my night, you might ask me at school tomorrow, because I look a little worn down.

Don't worry, it's no big deal. It's just one of those nights.