Ryuko followed Isshin through the claustrophobic halls leading to the mansion's basement, shivering imperceptibly every so often. As a very young child, when she'd still maintained some connection with her father and enjoyed his presence, he had occasionally taken her down here to prod her with needles, jot things down on a clipboard, and ask her strange, half-remembered questions. This had always been her least favorite part of the mansion, and not simply because she had no idea what he was doing beyond his mutters of "research".

And certainly not simply because she had a fear of needles, which was a completely unsubstantiated rumor that had never caused any embarrassing incidents during school flu shot season. Anyone who insisted to the contrary would be forced to swallow his or her own teeth.

Again she shivered. It was just that something about the basement had always felt… off, like a stranger in the background of a cherished family photograph. In spite of her repeated visits, she never remembered exactly what the room down there looked like. She'd tossed around the idea that she was blocking out the room due to some horrible childhood trauma, but that idea had quickly been thrown out. Her father might be a neglectful bastard and a bit of a freak in regards to his work, but he wasn't… anything else. That left a complete blank space in her head as to why a room was still freaking her out, even after all of her years of genuine physical suffering at the hands of very real people.

At last, they halted at a stainless steel door. Ryuko had been so focused on the thought of the room ahead that she'd barely noticed the halls they'd traveled through. She couldn't recall ever walking through metal hallways lined with security cameras, but that might just have been the same memory problems.

"Here we are, Ryuko." Isshin pulled the door open and hobbled inside. "Please be quick about coming in, and shut the door behind you. The temperature and air pressure in this room have to be carefully maintained until we can make sure that everything's in order."

Ryuko stepped cautiously forward, unsure of what to expect. The room ahead was enormous, almost comparable to a cathedral, and lined from floor to ceiling with objects of an incomprehensibly scientific nature. If her father was planning on explaining his mysterious reason for calling her back, she doubted that she would understand half of it.

Before she'd even entered the room completely, Ryuko felt a peculiar stirring in her heart. She felt it literally before her mind could even process the metaphorical meaning; it felt like there were insects crawling all over her heart, leaving faint trails of fibrous hair, coming close but never quite jabbing or biting her. Startled by the discomfort, Ryuko collapsed to one knee and gritted her teeth.

Easy. You've been through worse.

Isshin turned and looked her over, but he didn't rush to her aid like any other father would. Instead, he tilted his head quizzically and stroked a strand of his beard. It almost looked like he'd fully expected this to happen. "Are you all right, Ryuko?"

"Fine," she managed to say. "What the hell do you have down here, Dad?"

Rather than answer, he finally made his way back to her and helped her to her feet. The sensation was still there, but it was almost numbing now. Shaking it off, Ryuko pushed past her father and fully entered the room ahead.

The first thing to catch her eye was a cluster of crimson sparkles on a corner table. On closer inspection, she was able to ascertain that the sparkles were reflections of light off an elaborate red structure. Further inspection revealed, to her great confusion, that she was staring at an enormous pair of scissors, seemingly crafted from smooth metal.

"Yes, yes, we'll get to those in a moment." Isshin hobbled up to her, having noticed where she was looking. "Those are of great importance, but our first order of business is introducing you to the person who's been waiting for many years to see you in the flesh."

Since she was getting more and more confused by the minute, Ryuko didn't put up any resistance as she was practically dragged over to a far wall lined with various tools. A dark shape was hanging up on the wall, and when her father turned on the desk lamp to illuminate it, Ryuko's mind drew its largest blank yet.

She was staring at a grayish-black sailor uniform with a red scarf. The uniform consisted of a blouse and a skirt, connected to each other by thin straps of fabric that looked like they were already stretched to the breaking point. This left a sizable space where the wearer's midriff would be completely exposed, making it look more like the outfit of a stripper than a respectable school uniform.

"Go ahead and try it on."

Ryuko eyed her father, growing wary and suspicious. "Okay, Dad, what are you getting me into?"

"Just try it on," he urged. "I worked for almost fifteen years on it. Once you have it on, you'll understand."

Against her better judgment, Ryuko obliged, pulling the uniform off of its hook and sizing it up against herself. Isshin politely turned around while she stripped down to her bra and panties, upon which she was instantly aware of just how cold the room truly was. She forced herself to withstand it and slid the skirt on, then pulled the blouse over her head and buckled the two sections together.

For an instant that passed by like lightning, the scuttling sensation returned to Ryuko's heart in force, but it quickly died down to nothing. With her faculties clear, she was aware both of how tight the uniform was, and of how much skin she was showing by wearing. People would call her an exhibitionist if she walked out onto the street wearing this, and she wasn't sure if she would be able to argue with them.

"How do you feel?" Isshin asked. The fatherly affection that had filled his voice earlier was almost invisible now, replaced by calm scientific curiosity.

"I feel like I'm about to pose for a hentai sketch artist." Ryuko tugged at the bit of fabric that narrowly covered up the underside of her breasts, praying that this was the kind of clothing that wouldn't shrink in the wash. "Now, can you actually tell me why I'm here, instead of stuffing me into your fetish gear with barely a word?"

In response, Isshin drew a sewing needle from his coat pocket, walked up to her, and pricked her finger with it before she could react.

"Son of a bitch!" Ryuko bit her tongue while trying to grit her teeth, and blood flowed from both of her wounds. She instinctively wiped her finger off on her skirt, leaving a minuscule blood trail. "Why the hell did you do-"

She stopped talking, aware of a bizarre sensation where she'd wiped off the blood. The fabric of the skirt was warming up, quivering, almost pulsating like a heart. She felt stitches ruffling as the warmth spread; it felt like she was getting groped by a thousand tiny perverts at once, but she was helpless to freak out or fight back. The feeling spread up to the rest of the uniform and all the way to the scarf, which, to a level of shock and awe that Ryuko couldn't have summoned up anywhere else, burst open like an awakening eye.

"Salutations, Ryuko," a deep voice offered from out of nowhere.

The numerous awkward sensations subsided, and Ryuko collapsed, panting and sweating. Whatever had just happened, she wanted no part in further activities. She worked her hand under the top and attempted to force it off of her, but it was stuck fast to her skin.

"Am I hurting you, Ryuko? If so, I offer my sincerest apologies. I'm still not used to your body, and I cannot yet detect your pain."

This time, Ryuko comprehended and acknowledged the voice, though her own was shaking and raspy with anxiety. "Wh-Who else is there?! Are you the one Dad brought me down here for?"

The voice chuckled. "I'm right here, clinging to your body, Ryuko. I only needed a small amount of your blood to make myself heard."

My blood? Ryuko's mind raced, trying to connect various pieces that didn't fit together as logic would dictate. "Um… this is a really stupid question, but are you the sailor uniform I just put on?"

"You are correct." As if to illustrate the point, part of the scarf moved in a manner that resembled an eye blinking. "I am one of the few Kamui in existence at the moment, and if my creator is successful in his mission, the final one to be stitched."

Ryuko barely heard anything after the affirmation that she was correct. All sound seemed to fade out of the room; her only thoughts were pure rage at her father and the disturbing knowledge that a living being was pressed against parts of her that were otherwise only covered by thin undergarments.

Slowly and unsteadily, she turned to Isshin and fixed him with a pointed glare. "Why… am I wearing… something that can speak?"

"Well, I can't hear him, so I hope he isn't making any inappropriate advances toward you. Otherwise, you'll be wearing him for as long as it takes to accomplish our goals." Isshin's eyes were unfocused, appropriately uncomfortable with seeing her body exposed. "And since that's the case, you should get to know him. Start with a name."

Ryuko was baffled. "You expect me to wear this THING?!"

"Your father is right, Ryuko." The uniform ruffled once again, making Ryuko whine under her breath. "I was created solely for the purpose of being worn by you. I understand how alarming I might seem, but we will be working closely for quite a long time. We may as well make it as pleasant a time as possible."

After several moments, Ryuko sighed, allowed her initial wave of anger to pass and leave only lingering confusion in its wake. "There's probably no point to fighting someone I'm wearing, so for now, I'll keep you on. What was that about a name, then?"

"I never gave him a name, even though he's a sapient organism." Isshin made eye contact with the uniform's scarf eye, though he still addressed Ryuko. "I wanted to leave it up to you, to create an early connection between the two of you."

Though she was starting to develop a headache from the events of the past few minutes, Ryuko thought for a moment. "You drink blood, right, uniform-thing?"

The uniform 'nodded' by puffing its – or rather, his – collar up and down.

"Well, then," Ryuko concluded, "I'll call you Senketsu. Fresh blood."

Nui Harime took a small step forward, instantly traveling a meter with the action. She was used to small inconsistencies with the laws of physics by now, as they almost solely defined her life.

Even so, what had happened in that cute girl's house had caught her off guard, and she struggled to explain it even as she pursued said girl and her brother.

She nonchalantly lifted her head to look up at where they had run off to. At least, she did it nonchalantly from an outside perspective. Inside, she was fuming – which she actually found rather amusing. She loved surprises, and anything that could shake her like that counted as a surprise. Mama had long ago taught her some French phrase to that effect, but the events of the past few minutes were doing a number on her memory.

The building Nui was steadily approaching rested at the peak of the city, and it was a personal favorite of Mama's. Honnouji Academy, it was apparently called. It was where her big sister worked, and seeing her always put a smile on both of their faces. She imagined Satsuki smiling, at least. The poor girl never smiled, which Nui couldn't wrap her head around at all. Mama always gave Satsuki the utmost affection whenever she'd come to stay with them.

Nui sighed, a noise imperceptible to everyone around, which was further masked by her unflinching smile. She hoped she wouldn't have to kill Satsuki to get to wherever Soichiro was hiding. If her deduction of Soichiro's hideout had been correct – which she knew it was, so there was no point in questioning it – and the fleeing siblings were his accomplices, then their presence at Honnouji Academy would indicate that they considered it a safe place, which in turn indicated one of two things.

The first possibility was that Soichiro had managed to set up another of his rebel pockets in the school. If that were the case, then her tape measure blade was getting a bit too blunt for mass combat. She could easily rip them apart unarmed, but that always led to at least a half hour of her hunched over Mama's bathroom sink, picking meat out from under her gorgeous nails.

The second possibility was that Satsuki would protect the siblings, and that meant that she was against REVOCS, and against Mama by extension. She didn't relish the idea of ripping her big sister's head from her neck and presenting it to Mama after a hard day's work, but if that had to be done, then it would. She loved Mama too much to protest anything that would help her.

Nui abruptly stopped thinking heavily about the matter. It made her head hurt.

In her time reflecting on the situation, she'd strolled through Honnouji Academy's titanic outer entrance and was now making her way across the athletic fields. Numerous students paused their activities to look at her, and her cheeks started to flush pink from the attention. Without breaking her unearthly stride, she turned to blow kisses at several of her admirers. She knew without looking back that they would either be falling head-over-heels in love with her or skittering away like fragile little crabs. Those tended to be the most common reactions.

Once more, her brief mental pit stop took her through the front doors of Honnouji Academy's central tower. Inside, she didn't even have to try to pick it up – the scent that had taken her to that filthy house was so strong, her body instinctively guided her toward it like a shark to a school of minnows.

She didn't much like sharks. She allowed her mind to wander to other, more flattering animal-related analogies. Since the room the siblings had fled into was a single step away, it wasn't extremely important to keep focused.

- Fifteen Minutes Earlier -

The door to Mr. Mikisugi's classroom groaned under immense stress as it was flung open, and Mako and her brother hurled themselves inside. Mako was quick to slam the door shut, lock it, and jam a chair under the knob. She accomplished these things so quickly, in fact, that her brother had barely impacted the ground when she was finished.

Neither sibling spoke for what felt like an eon. Mako hadn't paid enough attention in this class to fully comprehend the length of an eon, but she'd heard people use it when they meant that something took a long time to happen, so she felt it a good choice. Then she patted herself on the head for expanding her vocabulary, before returning to crisis mode again.

The silence was eventually broken by Mataro's violent coughing fit. The long gash across his chest was worse than it had looked before, although Mako guessed that sprinting uphill from the base of the mountain to the peak hadn't done much for his system's wellbeing. She leapt into action immediately, though it took almost a minute before she was aware of what action she meant to take.

As she'd seen in the few movies she'd been able to watch in her lifetime, Mako tore a section from her skirt – hoping that Lady Satsuki would understand why she was damaging a school uniform – and pressed it over the wound, where it soaked from blue to blackish-red within moments. She ripped off another fabric patch and pressed it over the previous one, hoping that it would buy her enough time to find a first aid kit.

Her eyes flashed around the room, but her mind wasn't making it easy for her. She was used to the presence of Mr. Mikisugi and the other students, and her mind had adapted the room's layout to include them. Being in the class outside of school hours was like navigating around her living room with all of the scant furniture replaced.

Finally, after rifling through several cabinets, she was confronted with the instantly recognizable symbol. Thinking no further than the next half second, she practically ripped the box's lid off and grabbed a roll of bandages from within. Applying them to Mataro was easy, considering all of the cuts and scrapes he'd sustained in the past. This was just a much larger and more dangerous cut than either of them were used to.

But she knew that bandages weren't enough. Her brother needed something to wash out the wound, and something to keep any infections out. He needed painkillers. He needed more blood. The kit probably had some of that, but the bottles all had big words on them that she couldn't tell apart. Her father was a licensed doctor, if one really squinted at his medical license, and he would have known exactly what to do if he'd been here.

If he'd been here…

She shook away the tears that would surely bubble up eventually. Mataro's life was at stake, and as the older sister, she would continue to do everything in her power to make sure that nothing horrible happened. Her parents could wait.

Underneath Mako's shivering hands, Mataro shifted and grunted. "How… How did you do that…?"

She held up the bandage roll for him to see. "I found this!"

"No…" Mataro shook his head, despite the visibly agonizing pain it was causing him. "At the house. You got me away from that girl. I saw you both moving so fast…" He stopped talking, again wracked with coughing.

Mako thought about it, and came up without a solid answer. "I was just really, really scared. When people get scared, they can move faster than normal. Dad told me about it while a blood donor was trying to run away." She smiled fondly at the memory, even though it caused her heart to ache uncontrollably.

Something else bit at her thoughts just then, so while she propped Mataro up in what she assumed was a safer position, she started questioning him. "What happened at the house? Where'd that girl come from?"

Mataro bit his lip and scrunched his face up. "Um… I was getting the party ready with Mom and Dad, and then someone knocked on the door. Mom thought it was you, so she went to answer it, but it was… her." He paused, hacking up a droplet of blood and wheezing to catch his breath before he was able to continue. "She asked Mom where some guy was, but Mom didn't know, and the girl took out a tape measure and…"

Mako's desire to stifle her tears was almost cut short when Mataro started to cry, but just as she was about to comfort him, he continued on uninhibited. "Dad didn't get what was going on until she was right up next to him, and then she must've thought he wouldn't be any help, because I heard the noise when I ran into the bedroom. And she just kept humming, like she really was an innocent little girl…"

Mako shushed him with a tender hug, having heard enough. She could fill in the blanks from there.

If she got the chance.

The door groaned again and crashed off its hinges, sending the chair flying through the window. An enormous figure loomed into the room, and Mako's initial thankfulness that it wasn't that same girl was cut short when she realized who it was.

"NO STUDENTS ARE ALLOWED WITHIN THE CLASSROOMS OUTSIDE OF CLASS HOURS WITHOUT THE PRESENCE OF A STAFF MEMBER!" Ira Gamagoori bellowed, rattling the foundations of the building. "MAKO MANKANSHOKU, YOU WILL BE SUMMARILY-"

The instant his eyes fell upon Mataro, everything about Gamagoori changed. The blood vessels withdrew from his eyes, while his brows lifted from an expression of seething rage to one of professional concern. His teeth remained gritted together, but he firmly sealed his lips over them. Mako could have also sworn that his entire body dramatically reduced in size, but even she knew that that was insane.

"What happened here?" Gamagoori asked in a voice that sounded genuinely worried.

Mako didn't hesitate to leap up and wrap her arms around Gamagoori's redwood stump of a neck. "Gamagoori-senpai!" She screamed in the most pathetic, pitiful tone she could muster. "Someone's chasing me and my brother! She's gonna kill us if she catches us! She already killed my Mom and Dad!"

Nodding coolly, Gamagoori shook her off and cracked his knuckles, producing a sound Mako compared to a door slamming shut on a human skull. "As the Honnouji Academy Chief of Security and Disciplinary Committee Chairman, it is my sworn responsibility to protect any students under threat of harm on or off of the campus. After I have dealt swift justice to your attacker, I will notify the medical staff. Your brother is a student here, right?"

"Enrolled." Mataro coughed and wheezed far below Gamagoori's titanic frame. "I just never showed up."

Gamagoori's eye twitched with annoyance, but he said nothing about Mataro's truancy. "His personal information will still be in our computers, so he will be transferred to our hospital ward without delay. Rest easy, Mankanshokus."

With that period of uncharacteristic kindness out of the way, Gamagoori stepped back into the hall. Mako peered out, curious about how the little girl would stand up to the gigantic Student Council member – and froze in shock.

The girl was already in the hall, flashing from side to side with each step like the one scene Mako remembered from Ju-On. She still wore an ear-to-ear smile, and she was still splattered with bloodstains from her golden hair to her heels. Upon sighting Mako, the girl flash-stepped right past the startled Gamagoori, bringing her tape measure to bear once again.

Hatred boiled up in Gamagoori's eyes. Barely moving from his position, he pivoted on his heels and gripped the girl's head in one massive fist, raising her up so that the two of them were at eye level. "WHO ARE YOU TO MARCH ONTO THE GROUNDS OF HONNOUJI ACADEMY AND THREATEN THESE INNOCENTS?!"

The girl sharply cocked her head, causing her body to snap up in Gamagoori's grip. "Who are you to stand in the path of the Grand Couturier when she has important business?" She giggled childishly and swiped her arm out in multiple directions, extending only her pinky finger in lieu of her actual weapon.

For exactly one second, nobody moved, and Mako foolishly thought that the girl had done something pointless.

Then, with slowness almost as sickening to watch as it surely was to feel, the tips of Gamagoori's thumb and index finger slid from their correct positions and fell into a bloody puddle on the floor. Gamagoori's eyes bulged, and he was forced to let the girl drop, but he never screamed.

The girl landed on her feet, continuing to move forward as if nothing had interrupted her. Mako retreated into the classroom, pulling Mataro along as quickly as she could, but the girl had the speed advantage. They all knew it, and she was clearly enjoying herself by slowing down just as she was about to reach them.

Just then, Gamagoori shoved one of his arms through the doorway and grabbed the girl around the arm. He began to pull, but the girl barely budged. In fact, she yawned, covering her mouth with her free arm.

"This is getting boring!" The girl followed up this exclamation with a chilling smile directed at Mako. "I'm really more interested in you and Soichiro than I am in a thug with a shoddily stitched uniform!"

Seconds later, the girl effortlessly wrenched her arm forward. All of the fingers Gamagoori had wrapped around her arm bent and snapped, but still he refused to let up on the assault. Already anticipating this, the girl spun around and jabbed Gamagoori in the chest with her thumb, sending him flying into the wall before he could follow up with any further attacks.

The girl's smile widened as she stepped over to where Mataro was laying. Lowering her tape measure to his neck, she addressed Mako as innocently as ever. "I'll ask you one more time: where is Soichiro Kiryuin, and what is he up to? It's an easy question! Just answer it, and I'll let you both go!"

Mako immediately noticed that the girl was crossing her fingers behind her back. She wasn't sure what it was, but the fact that the girl felt the need to actually cross her fingers while she lied terrified her.

A shadow once more fell over the classroom as someone entered the doorway, and Mako assumed that it was Gamagoori, back up for yet another attack.

Instead, a lithe figure flashed through the air, landing just behind the girl and curving a black katana around her neck. "Nui Harime," the figure asked in a firm voice, "I demand to know what you are doing in my school."

Mako's heart skipped a beat, and then two. She would have fainted if not for the shock of the situation taking over.

Satsuki Kiryuin – THE Lady Satsuki whom Mako worshipped as much as she feared – had come to her rescue.

"Aww, Satsuki, I'm not doing anything bad!" The girl, whom Mako now identified as Nui, leaned forward and rubbed her neck up against the blade. A trickle of blood flowed out, though she didn't seem to be bothered. "I was just looking for your papa, and I followed my instincts to this girl and her brother. I'm only doing what Mama told me to."

If the mention of Satsuki's father had any effect on her, it was invisible. "Regardless, you have no business on the grounds of Honnouji Academy, much less inside it. If you refuse to leave, I and my Elite Four will have no qualms about killing you."

For some reason, that sent Nui into a cackling fit. She backed away from the blade, and the flesh of her neck seemed to partially close up around the injury. Then, as suddenly as the laughter had started, it stopped and left Nui's face with a completely blank smile. "Okay, if you're gonna be like that, I'll leave! Mama's going to know that you got in the way, though!"

With a final glance back at Mako, Nui vanished into thin air.

Satsuki took one look at Mako and Mataro, and immediately went into her familiar commanding tone. "Gamagoori! See to this boy!"

"Yes, Lady Satsuki!" Gamagoori marched in, appearing no worse for wear other than his injured hands, and scooped Mataro into his arms before carrying him away. Mako breathed a sigh of relief, which caught in her throat when Satsuki turned and made eye contact with her.

Mako didn't hesitate to throw herself to the floor in front of Satsuki and bow as low as she could. "Thank you so much, Lady Satsuki! You saved our lives! I'm in your debt! I know I was already in your debt because you're so fantastic and you let me take classes at this school even though I'm not as smart as the other kids, but you…" She had to pause to catch her breath, which she chalked up to exhaustion. Normally, she could speak for hours on end without interruptions.

Satsuki kindly waited for a break in Mako's panting before addressing her. "You are Mako Mankanshoku, yes? I could hear Ira shouting your name even in my office, which is what drew me here in time to stop Ms. Harime from disemboweling you. Why was she in pursuit of you, Mankanshoku?"

Tears flooded Mako's eyes, and she couldn't wipe them away to honor Satsuki's presence no matter how hard she tried. "She… she showed up at my house and… killed my Mom and Dad…"

A grim expression formed on Satsuki's face, though it wasn't a marked change from her normal expression. "Then you have nowhere else to go. How old are you, Mankanshoku?"

"Six…" Mako paused to let out a particularly heavy sob. "Sixteen, Lady Satsuki. Today was my birthday."

For nearly thirty seconds, Satsuki said nothing. Then, suddenly, she turned and slowly began to walk away. "I do not normally make arrangements like this, but since Nui is involved, I have no other choice. After your brother has recovered, I will allow you both to live on the campus until the threat to your safety passes. You are more than old enough to live on your own, but as you are visibly a No-Star, I know that you have no other safe place of shelter than Honnouji Academy.

"You will be fully expected to make preparations for your exit, of course. Whatever money your parents possessed, I will have funneled to you. I cannot harbor you any longer than it takes for Nui to lose interest in you – however it is that she gained it in the first place."

The moment Satsuki disappeared into the hallway, Mako was so caught up in the rush of information that all of her muscles gave out. She finally fell into unconsciousness, but it was thankfully with a smile on her face.