Where?
That word slipped through her mind's drowsy clutches. It wandered in ecstasy together with the swaying hay above her... The breeze did not hinder her and the sun's rays poked at the exposed skin only partially, as if frightened to interfere.
Where?
Again Sakagami Kouya was troubled with the same question... She had no answer. There was no need for one. No need for thoughts, for clouds. Concurrently, the cyan sky had a similar deduction:
'Rest. You've done enough.'
Kouya's lips pinched together at that. Why did it felt so wrong? What should have she'd done? They were wrong, so wrong. And as they proved time and time again, she was simply not enough.
'Not true!'
Kouya's digits pressed against the grainy soil. This bedding was not for her, she did not deserve it, and thus she had to fight again. The girl slowly rose to a sit, sealing her eyelids temporarily against the traversing chill, which still gladly tickled her ears and scratched her numb arms. It proved to be much fiercer than she had imagined, yet another falsehood she fell into... No more... No more... No more. Her eyes languidly took in the clear scenery. A bright sky, with no sun or clouds - artificial; the golden hay, veering away from her touch - scared, a figure standing farther away... Him again... What was he doing here?
Kouya's eye suppressed a twitch. A sharp inhale was made. The twelve-year-old girl hastily stood up, intending to run, though a sharp needle pinned her to the soil by the edge of her shirt. Kouya laid bewildered, eyes wide and throat dry, as if harboring remnants of a snuffed-out flame.
This giant fell from the sky? How could it? There was nothing, that could have brought forth something as huge and heavy as this. With that thought in mind, Kouya attempted to wiggle her way out of the iron clutch. It proved to be futile and the glazed-over needle remained in place.
"Hah... What are you doing here?" Came a careless tone. It drifted to her perception faster than the tobacco smoke, he favored. Kouya chose to stay quiet, since she doubted, he required such a dubious answer. A sharp inhale from her part; a poisonous exhale on his. It was as if they subconsciously shared, whatever they had left, or whatever they dared to hand - both being selfish creatures. Without a warning, Minami Ritsu came closer and inspected the damage. All the while his expression held onto a distasteful grimace and a slight pinch on the lower lip. He nodded once, twice... And the words came out, as if all this had been orchestrated: "I expected as much."
Expected...
Kouya frowned. What was he talking about? If Minami stood here, where were the others, where was Yamato? In the middle of Kouya's fearful pondering, the man added.
"The Zero project is incomplete..." He stated matter-of-factly, before reason came knocking at his door. Ritsu languidly turned to face the immobile girl. "I suppose I don't need to tell you, that you lost the battle, Sakagami-san." Kouya's eyes portrayed confusion. Lips quivered next. Oddly enough, her bewilderment caused the man to smirk. "You're clueless. Understandable. What Nagisa views as a newfound strength is a hidden disability. Pain is proof of life..." The cigarette was dropped and stepped on. Next to a puddle of blood lay his scattered ash... "As you are now, you're already dead."
In a moment's pass, Kouya's lips parted, trying to urge her brain for an opposition. As she had feared, none had come and instead the girl could feel, how a side of her hair became matted with a thick liquid. She turned to the side and spotted the same river oozing out of her wounded abdomen. The perpetrator, this metal pin, stayed rooted in her irrationally quivering side, like a haughty statue worthy of praise. Ridiculous... How had she failed to notice that? Her vision was beginning to cloud over, yet she could not feel a thing. Eventually, the stage darkened.
"K-kouya!"
"Yamato, calm down! I'll throw you out otherwise!" Nagisa's shrill voice came to trouble her. And despite her tiredness, the dark-haired girl managed to stir. She breathed out thoroughly a couple of times, feeling her chest tighten around the lungs in an awaited embrace. This gave her a shimmer of strength to part her eyes. She saw both Nagisa and Yamato fussing in the infirmary, the older female reprimanding her sacrifice again.
"I swear, if something's going to happen to Kouya-"
A bitter chuckle fled Yamato then. Kouya knew exactly, what that little display of emotion meant. She interjected weakly.
"Stop it..."
"K-kouya?.." Momentarily, Yamato leaped back to her fighter, gripping the edge of the bed in desperation, while her cat ears fell flat. "Kouya?"
"She's fine. Let her rest." Nagisa pulled the blonde by the shoulder, before walking next to the laying girl, as if opening up a path to herself. Her eyes darted between both wounded arms, before meticulously settling on Kouya's face. "How are you feeling? Any dizziness?"
The girl managed to shake her head. That answer mostly satisfied her curiosity. Nagisa turned to the side, so she would face both members of her newly formed unit. A mere week had passed, since they became a unit...
"I still can't believe you lost to Ritsu's students. You should have known better than to fight carelessly." She paused for a minute, thumb flicking at a stray folder, set on the work desk close by. "Your bond has not fully manifested yet. Yamato, remind me, you haven't suffered any damage from the unit?"
"No, sensei."
"It's just as I feared then, Kouya ended up fighting on auto. Until I figure this out, I'll redo your training schedule for next week. You need to train harder next time." Nagisa finished. The folder was gently picked up and she strolled to the end of the infirmary. "Rest for now, Kouya, and call the nurse, if anything comes up. That's all." Her stern gaze met Yamato, who instantly wagged her tail. Nagisa's words came out hollow. "You're dismissed, Yamato."
Once the older woman was gone from the sanitized white room, the blonde released a giggle and fled back to Kouya's bed. Her voice beamed with excitement.
"Let's get out of here!"
"W-wait a minute..." Kouya responded a bit flustered, though Yamato did not allow her friend to overthink any of this. She pouted and clutched the fighter's wrapped wrists, tugging them away from the bed.
"Come on, come on, hurry up!"
"Where do you want to go this suddenly, anyway?"
"To that junk food store, we saw before! Come on, I'm hungry!"
"Isn't it the one in Tokyo?"
"That's what I'm talking about! It closes in a few hours, if we can catch the last train, we'll get there in time to order dinner!"
Kouya sighed, slowly setting her bare feet down onto the cold tiles with Yamato's help. The whole time, the blonde teenager was gently rocking on her tiptoes, eager to go.
"You're such a glutton. What if you'll get fat?" Kouya enquired finally. Yamato waved her off, shoving a discarded sweater her fighter's way. With that their dialogue ended. Kouya followed her sacrifice's quickened pace, eventually catching and entwining their fingers together. The familiar rigid sensation overcame her, bringing neither coldness nor warmth...
X X X
Somewhere... In a place that stood unconcerned, reluctant to be distinguished, it trickled onwards. This makeshift snake slid down the miniature crevices of her arm, making detours, before quickening this flee... Where exactly was it running off to? Wasn't that fluid a part of her?
"Sakagami-san, you're bleeding!" A voice disrupted, while Kouya's sewing needle clang against the table. Her classmate was quick to snatch the pricked finger. The little girl's face was both curious and horrified; perhaps it was the first time the little girl saw blood. Kouya herself was a stranger to this entity. It should sting, right? At least, that was, what she had read back then... And so she continued to sit in the middle of the crafts' club, while other students slowly swarmed to her, like bees to nectar. After Kouya diverted her eyes at the scratched grey linoleum, all she could see was an abundance of colorful slippers. The many shades mingled together: blue, white, pink and then again... Kouya knit her brows at the lack of routine. Things were shifting beyond her understanding and she had no idea what to do... Her lips made a small parting. It was getting hard to breathe. The humidity in the room seemed to collect around her, while the many voices created a horrid concert. Her palms got sweaty. Her legs began to shake, as if in a feeble attempt to cease the risen panic, to delete this unknown. If only all could pause. Alas it only got worse... The heated air was robbed time and time again and Kouya found herself resorting to shallow inhales instead.
The blood coagulated by that time.
A smear was made on the floor.
As Kouya's vision began to blur, her defenses kicked in.
'Do something!' - her mind yelled desperately. And so she wobbly stood up and warily pushed the gathered kids from her path. Although, by now they looked no better than mingling blobs, periodically shifting their shapes, like some impatient nine-headed dragons, dragged out from their tales.
She had to get out. She had to run. Kouya's feeble escape came to an end, when the teacher caught the dark-haired girl's wrist. A sweet voice breached through the humid wall.
"Sakagami-san, don't be scared. Let's get that wound patched up."
Kouya was led back, this time seated at the front, where the teacher dressed the wound, as if it was a slumbering princess in need of a blanket. Throughout this procession whispers had become a muddled background, meanwhile Kouya blankly stared at her slightly shaking knees. A girl came up to her.
"Does it hurt?"
Hurt? Did it have to? Kouya could not feel a thing, besides certain faintness and a traveling pulse, associated with her quickened heartbeat. Nevertheless, these kids looked frightened, as if this little piercing meant death or something as equally terrifying... Blood should be scary. Wounds should hurt, should burn, should twinge and sometimes ache for days to come. That was what she had read and her classmates acknowledged. So then... Why was she different?
Kouya's lips began to quiver, while she gazed at the little curious heads, now lounging near their respectful desks. She sat in front of them, she was an oddity, different... A stream of tears broke out.
Concurrently, this vision was broken as well.
Yamato's fingers trailed on her shoulders and arms, tickling gently. Soon enough, when the blonde deemed the other woken, she spoke.
"You fell asleep."
Kouya idly blinked at the high wooden roof of the shed, they usually lounged in. It had originally belonged to her foster parents, until it was of use, though even back then, this building had been rarely favored, since it stood far away... The crack in the junction of the roof stared back at her and from beyond it, the shadowy sky greeted. It should be pretty late then.
She sat up; a bit flustered from the fact, so much time had slipped her mind. The girl straightened her glasses, perched on top of her nose and thus the familiar dust met her vision.
"For how long?"
"For a while." Yamato smiled, lifting a box of vanilla ice cream in one hand and a spoon in the other. "Do you want some? There isn't much left though."
"Ah. That's, what I get for sleeping in."
"Hmm. Nagisa-sensei, says it's good for the wounds or something... Enough about that. Open wide."
Kouya stared at the offered a spoonful. Yamato gave her fighter a joyful grin and Kouya leaned in with a brief nod.
"Hey, take the whole bite." Yamato pouted lightheartedly. Her legs shifted so to lay more comfortably against a pile of tattered covers and old hay. "There's a bit more, where that came from."
Kouya's pupils skipped through the offered sweet, while her palms stayed clutched at her folded knees, the thumbs nervously caressing one another. Only after a moment of silly prodding did Kouya took another offering.
"Something's bothering you?" Yamato finally uttered. Kouya's throat had gone dry, despite the frozen sweetness, that slithered through there bare seconds ago. She uncertainly parted her mouth.
"He said-"
"I don't really care, what he said. Ritsu-sensei, Nana-san, Nagisa-sensei - I don't care, what neither of them has to say." Yamato scrambled closer to peer intently at Kouya's concerned expression. There were signs of the dark-haired girl shaking - frail, restrained. One could barely note them, there was still a question, whether Yamato herself spotted those signs herself. Instead, the blonde placed her palm on top of Kouya's, leaning closer for an inch. "I've waited for you, Kouya, I've waited for you my whole life... Now that you're with me, I don't need anyone else, because I am finally whole with you."
"Yamato..."
"You too, right?"
"Yes... Yes." Kouya muttered absentmindedly, not sure, whether her words sounded convincing enough. That same frightened knot nestled in her psyche. She had to hide her gaze, after her brows furrowed in thought.
Whole... That's not it. She loved Yamato, she really did, however being with her did not sew that gaping hole. Kouya did not want to admit it, but they had said the truth. That horrid truth nailed them time and time again, to the point they feigned ignorance on that subject. But even forgetting did not change their fate. They were defective human beings. And that notion, worded or not, dug a home for itself, nesting deeper and deeper like a starved parasite. Kouya swallowed suddenly, cutting off her line of thoughts. Soon enough she looked up at the blonde with a calmer expression and a new subject.
"Yamato, you don't plan on going home tonight?"
"Nope. I'll sleep here." The girl grinned, flopping down on the covers with arms spread wide. Her limbs were jabbed by the angered hay and she shifted a bit, bumping her side with Kouya's legs repeatedly - it tickled. Yamato was too reeled in searching for a rightful spot to note anything around her. After her position was settled, Yamato prompted her fighter. "Hmm?"
"I'll stay with you." Kouya breathed out. She saw foreign hands carefully rise to her shoulders and the brunette allowed herself to be dragged down to a waiting oblivion. Kouya wordlessly leaned her head on Yamato's shoulder, nuzzling her cheek inside this snug bedding. They had nothing else to talk about - silence was more precious than a fleeting pile of words... It was the harder one to stack up and harder to maintain, similarly to a reluctant flame, in need of care... And so they laid in silence under the crooked roof.
Maybe one day they'll find something to pour into those cavities.