I: i'm right here, see?

[ ambition. ]

Irina muses on the word as she lay on the gurney, with the word echoing repeatedly like a broken record in the depths of her mind.

There are things between her legs, poking and prodding, steel clinking with steel, and her legs were spread wider than she liked. His gloved fingers could be felt against her pale thighs on occasion, and not one word of apology came from his mouth for experimenting on her with the cost of her supposed virgin dignity.

The clock read 10:30 pm.

Her head tilted to see the time, letting herself be occupied with the movement of the second hand and its mechanical ticking as she kept the word in her mind.

People have ambitions. They want to be doctors, they want to have their own businesses, they want to be rich and whatnot. Goals, aims, dreams. They have so many words for people's desires, and people's desires are insatiable. That was the curious thing; once they get what they want, they want more, and more, and more.

What did she want?

[ for this stupid burning pain between my legs to stop. ]

One thing that Irina would say about herself was the fact that she was being robbed. Stolen from. Starved of what she had.

Her beloved brother was slowly being taken away by that wench, and if Irina stood by and watched and wished them well, she would be long forgotten. Her efforts would be in vain. Her hard work would be disregarded, all for a pretty face and sweet words saying 'I love you' to a man who barely knew love, and took this stunning woman to be his. Her peaceful home would not be under her control anymore; Elluka Chirclatia was slowly directing how things are done, and all she had to do to get things her way was to put on a smile and make a sweet suggestion to a man who couldn't even eat on time.

Irina had once dreamed of her brother looking at her with an strange, uncomprehending expression on his face, asking her: 'Who are you?'

She dared not tell anyone that following morning that she cried for the whole night.

[ you sad, sad woman, you can't even hold on to what's yours. what's the use of blaming others when you can't do shit? ]

TwiRight jerks his gloved hands a bit, and it stings. It stings, and she curses, and all he does is carry on.

Irina wonders what on earth motivates this man, this man who barely has any time for anything that's not his ticket to the fulfillment of his ambition. Is there a clear answer, or is there an answer that's far more complicated than that?

...What is the meaning of desire, in general?

What is the meaning of a word, anyways? A word is created to hold a meaning, but what?

If that whore Milky wanted sex all day, she could get it and still won't be satisfied even if she had sex for three days straight. Irina didn't understand that. That's more of an addiction.

If that snooty Ly wanted everything she wanted, she could get it and still won't be satisfied even if she owned the world. Irina didn't understand that. That's more of being insatiable.

If that bitch Elluka got her brother, she could have him and still won't be satisfied even if she had married him and bedded him. Irina didn't understand that. That could lead to that blonde whore being tyrannical in her own home.

[ i hate you. i hate your blonde hair, i hate your height, i hate your stupid nicknames, i hate you coming to my room at night when you can't sleep, i hate it when you deem me as unimportant, unnecessary, unneeded, unwanted- ]

His gloved hands stopped moving.

She stopped thinking.

"...It's done? Ah, finally!" Irina said, making herself laugh. "I needed to pee."

[ your laugh sounds as if someone shoved sand in your throat. ]

"Well, you wanted the full test. Sans modesty."

...Ah, she did.

"We're done for the night," she heard the scientist say, but she made no effort to close her legs as he finished up. Irina looked up at the sickeningly white ceiling, and it stared back at her as if to say

[ stay the night? ]

Maybe she would.

"Bet they threw you out because you sucked in your job," Irina grinned, drinking some hot milk as she conversed with the bespectacled scientist. TwiRight looked awfully like Kiril; that could be the reason why she liked speaking to him despite his horrid attitude.

"They didn't throw me out," TwiRight pointedly said, drinking his coffee as he pushed up his glasses for the 6th time. "They suspended me. There's a difference."

Here sat a funny pair in a laboratory room, talking about the differences between being fired and being suspended. The white fluorescent lights were still on, painfully so, probably to keep anyone working in there awake. It made Irina a little sleepy, and for a tiny second, she wondered whether the saturnine look on TwiRight's face would ever disappear.

His face looked as if someone had wrung him through hell, and here he was, a brooding survivor of whatever he braved.

"Fine. You were sus-pen-ded," she said, syllable for syllable. "Because you sucked in your job."

If anything else, TwiRight's face looked as if he was trying very hard not to laugh.

"You don't have anything else better to say, do you?" he sighed.

"Hm, no."

Of course she doesn't. She wastes her words. She wastes her smiles. What's most important are her thoughts, and whatever she says barely mean anything. Her promises are like promises under a false duress. How clever, Seth TwiRight, how clever.

"You do know that having coffee with me won't increase your chances to be the next MA," TwiRight added.

Irina found a pout from somewhere and plastered it on her face. "Oh, it won't. Shame. I wanted us to be good friends, and maybe you can do a few favors~"

"Aren't you needed at home?"

...Was she needed at home?

She used to have various agendas in her head. Wash the bed sheets and blankets. Mop the floors. Wipe the windows, because they're getting really dirty. Cook dinner. Get Kiril to sleep. Feed the stray cats outside when you hear the meowing. Wash the clothes, hang the clothes, wash the dishes...

...

...Where did all of that go?

[ why does it matter? they don't care. ]

"Nah. I'm free, nya. Unlike you."

"I have work to do," he said, groaning at his mountain pile of work. "I'm not done yet."

"Why do you work so hard anyways?" she laughed, sitting on the gurney as she held the warm cup of milk in her hands. "Is it because of the pay? I know the pay's good, but I don't think that you have to work that hard for it."

He fell silent, and Irina could've sworn that she had seen something on his face.

"...For the sake of my ambition."

What she saw was a terrifying amount of longing, greed and desperation.

And much to her surprise...she realized that she had that too.

A/N: ...idk man idk.

-Densetsu-no-Maguro.