Everything felt wrong.

That thought was the first to cross Karin's mind. Her head was swirling with fragments of thought and images, but that one pushed itself to the front. Waking up to such a thought made it feel that much worse. Taking a deep breath, she pushed it aside and tried to focus.

The Vertex. The Shinju. The wall. Tougou. The Hero Club. Mankai. Yuuna.

It all flashed across her mind. The events of that day replayed themselves, out of her control. From chasing down Fuu, all the way to…

The muscles in her left arm twitched. Her fingers dug into the surface she lay on. Cloth bundled up in her fist. Thin. Soft, yielding surface underneath. Bedsheets on a bed. She slowly swung her arm out and felt for the rail often on hospital beds. She found it.

We won, huh… Karin thought to herself. She wouldn't be in a hospital – or even alive – if they hadn't. However…

She traced a line with her fingers across her chest, feeling them press the hospital gown against her skin, until… nothing. Her fingers could feel her arm start where her chest ended, but her arm felt nothing. She couldn't feel her arm. She did the same with her right leg. The result was no different.

Karin opened her eyes. Darkness. No, that wasn't right. It was an absence of sight. A void, joining with her growing awareness of nothing that was her hearing.

She grunted. She felt her voice work, but heard nothing.

A wave of mixed feelings swept through her. They threatened to break her composure. But she held firm and lay there, motionless, until it passed. It was all she could do. She chose this path. And she resolved to be strong for her. So she closed her eyes and focused. The world around her was blank to everything but her touch. The bed underneath her moved with her. The air above her was still. The events of the battle replayed in her mind over and over, but without an ending. She didn't know the ending.

How long she lay like that, she couldn't know.

A shift in the air brought her focus back to the present. Was someone in the room with her? A slight jostle of the bed, and then she felt the right side of her chest moving. It took her a second to realize that her chest was moving because her right arm was being lifted into the air.

Karin opened her eyes again. Not for herself – that was pointless – but to show she was actually awake.

"I'm awake," she said, to make absolutely sure. "I can't feel my right arm." She held out her left arm for whoever it was.

A few seconds later, a pair of hands closed around hers. Her right arm remained held up. A moment later, another hand grasped her by the arm. Three people, at least.

"I… can't see or hear you." She said it as calmly as she could manage. Even so, immediately the hands holding hers tensed up. She could feel them trembling slightly.

"Sorry." Karin resolved herself to be strong. "Is… who is this? Itsuki?" She took a guess that the small hands holding her left hand were the little sister's. Those hands gripped tighter for a second. An answer saying 'yes', probably. "Fuu?" The first person lightly touched her cheek. "Tougou?" The other hand on hers answered as Itsuki had.

Karin hesitated. She only felt three presences in the room. She didn't know what took place after they stopped the Vertex's attack before it reached the Shinju. How exactly did they achieve victory? After what happened, she was afraid to know the answer.

"… Yuuna?" She waited. Seconds passed. Ages. No response. "Is Yuuna here?" She asked again more directly.

A brief pause. Then, she felt a finger – Itsuki's, she realized – trace a path across her palm. It formed an 'X'.

"Yuuna isn't here?" The finger moved again. A circle. She took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. Her chest shook a little. "... Is she okay?"

She waited. It felt like an eternity.

Fuu took her her shoulder into her hand and rubbed it slowly. She felt Tougou's hand tense up, but she quickly squeezed her hand tight around her arm. And from Itsuki, she felt Itsuki's finger begin to move again.

She couldn't make out what it was.

Soothing warmth and a gentle breeze. Karin let the feelings wash over her. For the first time since the battle, she felt the stuffy hospital air be pushed aside by the fresh air of the outdoors. Only a week had passed, according to Fuu, but being stuck in her hospital bed was chipping away at her composure. So when Fuu came by and, still clumsily working with their only means of communicating with her, asked her if she was hungry, she was taken by surprise when Fuu pulled her out of bed after she answered.

Karin reached back and touched the newly created braid in her hair. Fuu's handiwork was probably all that really made her look presentable. She had some loose clothes thrown on over her hospital gown that she was sure didn't do her any favors.

A hand grabbed hers. Fuu again, pushing her wheelchair. It was hard, but she'd learned to tell the difference between the girls by their touch, vaguely. Fuu's hand held tight to Karin's for a second. A reassuring gesture that brought a small smile to her face.

However…

Once Fuu relaxed her grip, Karin slipped it out and brought it back to her lap where her other arm, unmoving and unfeeling, lay. Slowly, she pulled opened the fingers of the other hand and slipped her hand into the empty space.

It was no replacement. But over the last week, imagining it was Yuuna's hand was all she had as a comfort. Hoping to finally feel it for real, to again feel the strength she felt from Yuuna's hands when she first woke up in this state. She could remember it so clearly. The one thing that kept her anchored when the reality of what happened came crashing down for the first time.

She couldn't forget the feeling, so ingrained it was into her consciousness. She gripped her lifeless hand tighter. It was no replacement.

Before long, her wheelchair came to a halt. They hadn't gone too far, probably. A cool, steady breeze wrapped around her that wasn't there before. It felt good, especially with the sun's warmth on her skin. The feeling reminded her of her days training on the beach. Alone with her thoughts under the sun. The time Yuuna found her on the beach flashed across her mind. Would she ever be able to see and hear her again like that? Would she be closed off from the entire Hero Club? These questions were constantly on her mind throughout the week. Being reminded of what she might be losing hurt. She existed mostly in a void, now, broken only when someone was kind enough to insert themselves into it.

A light touch on her good forearm. She wasn't sure who it was immediately. Despite herself, her heart leapt with hope. But she quickly realized her mistake; it was Tougou at her side now. The disappointment that threatened to settle on her heart, she shoved aside and replaced it with a smile she directed in the vague direction she expected her friend to be in. Another hand reached out to touch her shoulder – Itsuki, of course. Her friends came to see her every day. She could barely communicate with them, but they still came every day. It made her unbelievably happy, and yet there was hint of pain they exuded with everything they did. Even she could tell, through their touch, their hesitations. Was it due to her condition? Or could they see past her facade, see the pain lingering in her heart every time they came to visit? She felt terrible. It wasn't their fault, but every time they came, what occupied her mind more than anything was her hope that Yuuna would finally be there with them to greet her. To take her hand in her own. She so desperately wanted to finally know for herself that Yuuna was truly fine. It was her strength that helped her all this time, right to the end.

One of the girls took her hand and placed something in it. Utensils. It was then that she noticed the slight warmth of steam wafting around her face. She went to probe in front of her, but her hand was guided instead, placed onto the side of a large bowl on a table. She hadn't even realized the table was there.

"Thank you. Hospital food gets tiring too quickly," she said, probing the bowl's contents with the utensils. Its consistency felt very familiar. And knowing Fuu, it could only be one thing. "Did you know they don't serve udon in the hospital these days? It's terrible."

Hearing their responses was one thing she really wanted at that moment. Only the void was there, now.

Karin took a large bunch of noodles into her mouth. She smiled. "Delicious." Her imagination brought to mind the taste she ought to be experiencing. But the actual taste was muted. Nothing like their times at the udon shop. The pleasing scent of the meal was completely absent, and with it the wonderful details of the food the entire club loved. Her final mankai, that is what it took from her.

But Yuuna had her taste fully taken from her. Even if she was here, she wouldn't be able to taste this udon at all. In comparison, at least she could taste and experience the pleasure somewhat. Everyone would be able to. Except Yuuna. She would be alone without that experience.

She might be alone. Just like how she felt with the nothingness that surrounded her.

Her heart dropped. But the fear of asking that had gripped her the entire week evaporated in that moment of realization. Her mind was made up. A hand found its way to her shoulder, rubbing it slightly. They noticed the change. Of course they did. She was glad the three of them were there for her. The four of them sitting around a table, eating udon. She was grateful, so grateful. But there should have been five of them here. Together.

"... Yuuna…"

She said it softly. The hand on her shoulder stopped moving. She silently apologized; they probably wanted to distract her, even for a little while. Distract themselves too, maybe. Even so, she straightened herself to sit upright in her wheelchair. She slipped her good hand back into her other and squeezed. Her voice came out clearly this time. She had to know.

"Take me to Yuuna."

The inside of the hospital again. After getting out briefly for the first time in a week, its sterile atmosphere felt even more oppressive even with the limited awareness of it she could manage. Perhaps it was the anxiety of waiting that merely brought the feeling she had the entire week into sharp focus. Stuck in her wheelchair, unable to see or hear, all she could do was wait to be brought somewhere or someone to come to her. The past week she waited, fearing what might have happened, hoping for one person to come to her side. Now, she was being brought to face that fear. The smooth floors of the hospital only made her feel as if she were floating toward that outcome, out of her control. The void threatened to swallow her.

It felt like the trip took forever. But eventually, she felt herself stop. A hand settled onto her shoulder and gave a light squeeze. It was firm and steady, as she expected from Fuu. Then, someone else picked her good arm up out of her lap. Itsuki. Gently, she was guided by her friend to reach out to her side. Her arm brushed up against the side of a hospital bed.

Slowly, Itsuki lay her hand down onto the top of another person's hand. A hand that was burned into her memory. Karin wrapped her fingers around it and gave it a squeeze.

The strength she sought wasn't returned to her.

"Yuuna?"

Karin's fingers continued to rub the hand she held. Warm, but limp. Devoid of the gentle strength she remembered. She just wanted a response. Any response. But none came.

Her limited awareness of anything beyond her hand touching Yuuna ceased to exist. Karin tried to keep her breathing steady. Her own strength disappeared. She ran her hand up Yuuna's arm, up to her shoulder. She raised her arm. She hesitated. And then, gently, cupped Yuuna's cheek in her palm.

When she first woke up after her fight, and she reached out to touch Yuuna, Karin could feel every bit of emotion Yuuna felt, every pained word Yuuna said, conveyed through the only sense she had left to know she wasn't alone in a void. And then to have Yuuna take her hand in her own, she could feel the strength that girl had just under the surface. Even with everything she was going through, she still had the strength to continue on, even if she didn't know it. To feel that, to have Yuuna's presence there, it kept Karin grounded when she needed it most. She had to respond in that moment. She had to give some of that strength back to Yuuna so she could realize what she needed to do. To bring Tougou back and bring back the life they all shared. And to thank her for everything she did for her. But now, after everything was done, Karin knew.

Yuuna wasn't here with them.

Karin felt her throat tighten. Her hand trembled as she pulled it away from the soulless face of her friend.

"Could… I have some time alone?" she asked. The emptiness was closing in on her. She didn't care. A few moments passed. Someone laid a hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze, and another pat her on the back. And then the presences disappeared into the nothingness.

Karin waited. She kept her body tense. She had to keep control. A minute, or ten minutes, she couldn't tell. It didn't matter. She waited as long as she could bear.

Karin bit her lip. Her arm reached out into the void again and found Yuuna's hand once again. She turned it over and slipped hers into the empty space. Their palms touched. Their fingers intertwined. She squeezed tight. If Yuuna was there at all, she wanted to feel her presence, somehow. She wanted to do whatever she could to bring her back. Her strength would be Yuuna's; she had to convey that.

Surely, Yuuna would take her hand in hers again. The hands of her dear friend that connected with her and pulled her out of the emptiness of her life. The hands that grasped hers after her fight and gave her an anchor to the world. All she wanted was for Yuuna to hold her hand again.

But there was nothing of that in this hand. It was no different from her own lifeless hand that she used to keep calm and remind herself of the connection she felt with Yuuna at that time. There was no life to feel. It was an empty touch. She was alone in this void of sensation.

It was no replacement.

"Yuuna… Please..." She sobbed. Her grip didn't waver.

Karin refused to let go for a very long time.