56 of 100: Live


Medical sedation was hell.

In Nanao's experience, and certainly her most recent one, it left a person fog-headed and restless. She felt like she could curl into her futon and sleep for a week. Which begged the question: when had she been sedated and for what purpose? She and Hinamori and Hanatarou had been having breakfast... and then what?

Despite feeling as though her head were four foot wide, it no longer hurt and her vision had cleared to its normal clarity. In the interim, daylight had broken and she could move with greater ease. At least she thought she could. Lifting one arm to push herself out of bed sent a ripple of pain across her chest stretching from wrist to wrist. Laying herself flat she reached across to slide up her sleeve.

It had gotten worse.

Exponentially.

The discomfort she'd been experiencing on her mission hadn't been alarming. It had vaguely resembled a chest cold, a deep feeling of congestion and then later pain when breathing at certain periods. But those periods had been brief and had always subsided. She had assumed it to be normal tear on her body from using such high level kidou spells repeatedly.

Kidou chains were, by definition, restricted and therefore in a class 99 category. There was bound to be some rebound effect for using them in such quick succession in a limited timeframe. Now, however, she wasn't so sure. Perhaps her enthusiasm for the project had caused her some unintended effect. She regretted not taking Hinamori's pleas for moderation more seriously.

Turning over, she pushed her weight onto both elbows and knees instead of one arm and pushed herself up. It was awkward and it hurt but at least she was on her feet. Though, once there, she wasn't certain why she'd wanted to be out of bed. The floor was cold, her feet were bare and she hadn't the faintest idea whose house she was in. Was it appropriate to leave a guest room? She had not encountered the situation with frequency.

In fact, she'd never encountered the situation before.

With her imaginatively swollen head she wandered toward the door and leaned her shoulder against the wall. The world was wobbly. Again, she slid her sleeve up and looked at her skin. The sleeves weren't long enough to hide the ugly red welts. They were raised and gnarled and circular and… they continued up her arm as far as she could see.

Alarm rang in her ears.

Nimble fingers plucked at the ties of her hakama and in moment she was yanking open her top.

Gnarled, angry red flesh met her eyes over the caps of her shoulders. She tore at the cotton bindings over her breasts and stared in horror. It wasn't circular scarring.

It was a chain stretching from wrist to wrist.


AN: It's short. I've run into the complication of writing things out of order. My plan: post up to at least 58 today.