Marie wakes up in the hospital, much more clearheaded than the first time.
Sitting up she looks around the drab room and finds herself alone. She vaguely remembers whispered words from an old man and feels a weight in her stomach.
I fucked up.
Gingerly, she attempts to get out of bed. She keeps a hand on the mattress to keep steady as her new line of sight gives her a case of vertigo.
With tentative steps she makes her way to a sink in the corner that's much higher than it should be. Thankful of the step stool she carefully climbs up, a hand on the sink to keep her balance.
What she sees when she faces the mirror is disturbing to say the least.
She expected to see fluffy brown hair and matching brown eyes, the body of a pear-shaped 26-year-old librarian —who really should have done more cardio, and less yoga but it's too late for that now.
Instead a child stares back at her, with spiky blond hair, blue eyes and round cheeks more fitting on a 5-year-old that needed to eat more.
What makes it surreal are the whisker marks adorning each cheek.
A moment of hysteria, a giggle escapes her. "Shit."
Shit shit shit shit shit shit no no no no no no nononononono.
The nurse finds her crouched on the step stool, with her hands clutching blond spikes and a vacant look in her eyes.
She barely notices being maneuvered back to bed, or being given a pill that puts her right to sleep.
Marie wakes up groggier than she had been previously. Ugh.
Her vantage point from the window tells her that night had fallen.
I fucked up. Time to try again.
She looks around from her spot on the bed, doesn't see anything that could help her in her immediate vicinity, until she sees a cupboard in the opposite corner directly across from the sink.
She'd rather end things painlessly, but she'll use something sharp if she has to.
After a beat she tries to sit up only to nearly collapse back into the bed.
She tries a second time, much slower than before, and starts to make progress before the exhaustion hits her. She adjusts the pillows behind her and rests against the headboard. She whispers, "Marie, you idiot."
She gazes at the ceiling and let's out a shuddering breath. Is this my punishment? Get out of a relatively simple life and now I have to be the jinchuuriki of the Kyuubi? The child of prophecy? No way!
She was supposed to have a quiet death, peaceful, not… this. Whatever this is, a coma, or something else, I need out.
Her life will still end on her terms like she planned, but that doesn't stop her thoughts from waging war inside her mind.
A gentle voice in the back of her head reaches out, her compassion. If you die, then Kurama will be released, and right now he hates everything and everyone. Everyone in this village, real or not, they will die.
Another voice cries out, her selfishness. That has nothing to do with me! Besides it'll take a century for him to reform. Whatever happens after I die is for them to deal with, I didn't ask for this!
Her fear is the quietest, but also the most frightening. Whatever is next, it will be so much worse.
She feels her tears steadily stream down her cheeks. "Shit."
