Part III

Method

The warmth in the nights waned as a chill crept into the air. There was an eerie silence that loomed around the dorm and hung over everyone, almost signaling the oncoming demise. Off and on, naturally with The Syndrome going around town and its inhabitants, gloom would ebb and flow with a sort of virtual tide. Fuuka would find herself watching the moon blanket itself from the city, shielding itself from the horrors below, from her horror.

She could only utter small talk now. Her social queue had dissolved into quick and vapid phrases to appease her roommates, to keep them out of her head.

"How was your day?"

She'd always make sure to turn the attention onto them, to turn them back onto themselves, unaware of her shadow. Her gentle façade was more than a little useful; it was the only thing keeping her hidden. However, she had her suspicions, and she would often catch her dorm-mate Mitsuru watching her, gazing at her from atop a sharp glare. There was questioning and suspicion behind her stare, and there was no doubt that there were calculating and turning gears as well. Perhaps she was on to Fuuka; maybe she saw the eerie shade under Fuuka's skin, the twisted machinations in her mind. This, as previously mentioned, was only more credence to the idea that Mitsuru would be one of the biggest threats to Fuuka's plan.

Grinding her teeth she would ponder how to dissect and deconstruct the walls and obstacles around her, forcing away the corroding reality her thoughts churned in.

That aside the idea was rather simple: originally she wanted to dispose of the others - the girls on her floor, namely Mitsuru, and the boys below. In the end she found that all unnecessary and unneeded. Despite her initial feelings of distrust and dissent with them, it wasn't logical to attempt on their lives, to free them from this world. Also, they were all considerably stronger than her; more likely than not she'd be over powered - the risk was too great. The focus of the plan was Minato, and that's what she needed to go straight towards. If done in the night at the right time, they shouldn't be an issue anyway.

So there would be one—or two. He wouldn't be alone, no that'd be too easy. Aigis' turn. It was noted that Aigis had a habit of disappearing and winding up in his room. Just the thought of this blasphemous act would make Fuuka's skin crawl.

Fuuka was counting on Aigis being there though, being there alongside him in his room, watching him, watching what was not hers. Fuuka had been considering that through some advanced sensory technology, perhaps the mechanical maiden would be able to sense disturbances and movements in her electric surveillance. Curiosity piqued, she'd wander off into the dorm, searching for the source. This is where the plan forked; if Aigis were to wander off, Fuuka would have to move quickly to finish up the strategy. However, if Aigis were still in his room upon Fuuka's entering, there would need to be some quick thinking to react accordingly.

Fuuka had been working on a small device that would incapacitate the steel seraph in her footsteps; she was incredibly excited to test it out and put the faker in her place and remind her what she was, a synthetic, a simulacra, a doll, parts and pieces to be manipulated and removed. Then, there, finally alone, she'd have Minato all to herself. He'd have to accept it, he'd have to accept her. It wasn't about her enforcing her will upon him—that's not what she saw it as anyway—it was about showing him what he'd been overlooking the whole time.

She would cook a treat for them to eat together, one carefully blended with special ingredients. It would whisk them both away to a new world without the fake girl and their uncouth peers. She'd been calculating this for a long time; the poison would be slow and painful, she wanted to savor every second of pain with him. She wanted their insides to churn and ache in absolutely retching discomfort. They would lie together under the dim light of dusk, their bodies withering and writhing in sheer agony, holding each other as they dwindled. It would feel like eons, and in that twisted euphoria they would meet death, their minds dissipating into the ether, their forms ascending to that bright realm Fuuka had so dreamed of so many times. It was perfect, and every time she went over it in her head it brought tears to her eyes. She belonged with him and he with her—it was destiny that their lives end next to each other. She was doing him a favor, them a favor really.

So she watched and listened to her roommates in and out of the dark hour; during she looked through Lucia, observing their every move if they were awake. Night after night she would observe them and all their processes, their mannerisms, their patterns. She looked for a particular time of night that they all were asleep. It was somewhat difficult—one had an incredibly erratic sleep pattern, not something she could rely on. Another seemed to wake up randomly, perhaps suffering some sort of sleep disorder. Sure enough Aigis would traverse the floors, curious and arbitrary; she seemed to be lost in thought, in electric cognitivity. This would be very difficult if it were to be like this on the nights they weren't venturing to Tartarus. Fuuka needed something to secure a fail-safe, to make sure she wouldn't be interrupted as she crept around the dorm, down to see him, down to end them.

She got what she wished for.

A seasonal flu had been traveling around and sure enough it hit the dorm and its inhabitants. Fuuka saw the warning signs early and armored up; the others weren't so lucky, and one by one they all fell to the early symptoms and eventual down time that the sickness had to offer them. This was perfect; bed ridden or sickly, they weren't in any shape to be wandering around or curiously investigating in the night's late hours. Through Lucia she saw that they were regularly turning in much earlier than before. Aigis obviously wasn't effected being what she was, what it was, all the same Fuuka found that Aigis would tend to Minato even more, trying to aid him in his tumultuous sickness. This infuriated Fuuka elevenfold, and clenching her fists she'd watch Aigis move like clockwork around his room, trying to be something she wasn't. It didn't matter, she could be there when the end comes - she needed to be taken care of anyway before they left this world for the better one.

This was it, it was time to make her move. On this next eve, she'd meet the end of her madness' procession.