00:19
Nothing about the city's peaceful midnight streets could calm either of their beating hearts. Through the boulevards split with still-shining casinos, across public park streamside walkways and endless residential roads packed to the brim with quiet, slumbering cars - whether it was the unspoken agreement that talking could only waste more time, or the simple need to be left alone with one's thoughts, neither C nor Filia had spoken a word for the majority of the trip. Part of it is this newly-found and absurd curiosity of his, being able to see Filia's chaotic hair dance freely from its restraints. She looked like a different girl altogether now, with none of the embarassed pride she constantly dragged behind her. He finds himself having to look away every few seconds, occupying himself with the silent architecture of the city, whenever he and Samson accidentally cross gazes and this need to avoid interaction suddenly resurfaces.
A cathedral - Cecil had really said something as simple as that expecting him to find the place immediately. True, a cathedral couldn't be hard to spot, but in a town this size, she may as well have asked him to find the lost city of gold while he was at it. It had to have been a small miracle, then, when he asked Filia about such a place and saw her eyes widen like saucers. To say that she was familiar with it couldn't have been less of an understatement, from how quickly she wanted to leave as soon as the words left his mouth. He never did end up finishing that coffee, although something about the encroaching urgency of their situation and the quickly-developing knot in his stomach makes him think that it may have been the right decision.
A glimmering film layered over New Meridian seems to slowly peel off as the two of them march further from the city centre. Just like that time when C had spotted the deserted plaza bordering the opera house, the gaudy, decadent atmosphere shears off to reveal something underneath. Something unique and historical. The brickwork dissolves into antiquity, revealing standard, inefficient homes antithetical to the multi-storied tenements dominating the city's inner skyline. In that same way, it reminds C of the Dragon Empire - seeing skyscrapers of discoloured concrete shoot up next to vibrant cultural sites, shrines and statues. His memories only exacerbate this disillusioned state of mind. He inwardly wallows on his past self as if the pointless suffering of remembrance can bring him any kind of relief.
"Hey..." Filia finally speaks, "You said your memories are back now, right?"
"Sorry that you couldn't be the one to hammer them back in."
"Don't say that like I made it my life's mission..." She mutters, "Come on! Aren't you forgetting to tell me something?"
"Yeah, you're right." He sighs, "...Filia, I don't really think we're made for each other after all."
"Your name! And what's with that generic soap-opera line!?"
Despite their circumstances, he finds himself smirking just a little.
"I guess I didn't mention that, did I?"
"Do you still not remember?"
"No, no." He looks down, "I do."
But despite that, it gives him none of the closure he was expecting. This magical, elusive thing that had held his attention since his arrival in the Canopy Kingdom, now just something else he feels the need to distance himself from. Isn't that the worse feeling? When you work hard for something, only to find out it wasn't worth it in the end? What strikes him the most is the unimportance it has. Despite having 'reached' this point, things only seem to have gotten more complicated. The thought occurs to him that there might not be any coming back from these strange events. As much as he regrets it, somehow he finds himself longing for that simpler life again.
Filia leaves him to think, turning back around with a thoughtful expression.
"So that's how it is, huh?" She concludes, "I'll be upset if you don't tell me after all of this has blown over, you know."
"If you're that keen, I'll just tell you right now."
"No, no. You made it sound like that, so that's how it's gotta be." All of a sudden, C feels like their positions have switched, "Plus, I'm more interested in hearing about something else."
"Ask away." He matches her pace, "But be warned, I really don't know a whole lot about the Dragon Empire besides what I've already mentioned."
"It's not about that." She smiles, "Tell me more about Cecil!"
"What's gotten you so giddy all of a sudden?"
"Why shouldn't I be? She looks like such a nice girl!" Filia grins, "How did the two of you meet?"
"Eh? What's with that phrasing?" He raises an eyebrow, "Don't get the wrong idea about us or anything."
She tilts her head, "Is that not the case? The way you talk about her makes it sound like you've got that kind of thing going on."
"Why do you think she used the Skull Heart in the first place?"
"Uh..." She pauses, "...So the two of you could be together again, naturally! Because you moved away!"
"Mmh... well, that's not entirely wrong." He grumbles, "But the root of your reasoning is all off."
"Can you blame me for thinking this was some kind of tragic love story?" She pleads, "So, things between you aren't great, huh?"
"Maybe a little better than they were before." C answers hopefully, "...I won't try to pretend that I'm not the reason this is all happening. Cecil never did anything to wrong me in the past. If this is what they call 'karma', then maybe I deserve all of what ends up happening tonight. The important thing right now is making sure she doesn't suffer for trying to get back at me. Even if, by some miracle, she turns back to normal, I'll still accept any revenge she still feels like taking."
He stops briefly to gaze up at the forming stars, which can hold no more answers for him.
"That's why, this name of mine..." He mutters, "...I think, calling myself that would make me feel a little disgusted now."
"C..." Filia's face is a mixture of worry and surprise, "What did you do to her?"
02:03
"Damn! Where the hell are they!?"
In the dead silence of a street corner, a trash can clatters to the ground noisily. A boyish voice yells frustrated into the night, expecting a perfect answer back from the sleeping city.
"You think they left without us?" The voice continues, "That'd make me so pissed off!"
"P-Please calm down, Cerebella." Squigy's melodious voice replies timidly, "The city is still locked down, remember."
"...Oh." Her face relaxes, "Yeah, I guess you're right, huh?"
"Though, I do wonder where they might be." She continues, "We've checked just about everywhere. Do you suppose the two of them may have found each other?"
"Maybe." Uncharacteristically, she lets out a sigh, "Man, I can't wait to get home. Been a long day."
"I must admit, I'm also starting to get a little tired..." Squigly rubs her eyes, "How are you feeling, Carol?"
"Worn out." The quiet girl stretches meekly, "...But, I don't want to take a break until we find Filia."
"Looks like it's gonna be an all-nighter." Cerebella hops on the spot to warm herself up, "Let's get moving. We still haven't checked-"
The still air of the street is rocked by something heavy - a sound like dying metal, screeching out, not enough to silence Cerebella but enough to interrupt her. The three of them turn their heads curiously towards the source of the noise, expecting to see something strange, though it's obvious that wherever the sound had come from is further away than they could possibly see. Just seconds later, the distant barking of dogs leads a steady, rising chorus through the streets, and the blackened windows of homes and tenements slowly light up the roads one-by-one. Before any questions can be asked, the air sounds again with something only just discernable - a tone blaring in short pulses, undeniable and impossible to ignore from even this distance. The warning shriek of an alarm.
"Oh my." Squigly is the first to speak up, "Has something happened? A fire, perhaps?"
"I don't think it's legal to own fire alarms that loud." Cerebella frowns, "It sounds like it's coming from the other end of the city."
They wait, expecting it to stop, but after a few minutes, the alarm is still going strong.
"Hey." Cerebella leans forward and squints her eyes, "Look over there."
Squigly and Carol follow her gaze towards the end of the street - to a ghostly intersection devoid of all but a few cars passing by. In the shadows it's certainly difficult to spot from a distance, but looking closely, a troop of black colours seem to shuffle along the road. A group, maybe twenty or thirty strong, jog hurriedly with their rifles on full display.
"The Egrets are still being given the runaround even at this time of night?" Squigly wonders, "I can't help but feel sorry for them."
"Nah." Cerebella shakes her head, "Somethin' about this is rubbin' me the wrong way..."
"I have to share the sentiment." Laid and coiled around Squigly's shoulders, Leviathan suddenly speaks up to agree, "The soldiers looked as though they were in a hurry to get somewhere."
"Training exercise, huh..." She replies, "Isn't that kinda stupid? Wouldn't they just train the Egrets at the palace or something?"
"Training for what, I wonder?" The white wyrm poses, "I would say this warrents a closer look. If only to find the source of that awful racket."
"U-Uh!" Carol raises her voice in that way, grabbing everyone's attention, "What about finding Filia?"
"I apologise in advance if this is a little unclear, Carol, but-" Squigly stares in the direction of the siren, "-I have a feeling that we might end up killing two birds with one stone."
"She's the kinda gal who'd wanna find out something like this for herself, after all." Cerebella adds.
"She may even be the source of this ruckus herself." She smiles, "...W-Which I mean in the best way possible, of course. Filia seems to have a talent for finding herself in strange situations."
"Mm..." Carol closes her eyes to think, "...I just hope she's okay."
"I'm certain that Samson is keeping her out of trouble." Squigly comforts her.
"You give that hoodlum more credit than he deserves, milady." Leviathan notes.
"Absolutely not! Samson is... well- oh..." She stammers, pausing for a beat, "...S-Shall we go see what all the fuss is about, regardless?"
Carol can't help but hesitate. Just letting Filia stay inside Medici Tower after all was said and done had been difficult for her. Even now, having helped to tuck her best friend's grievances away, these worrisome thoughts continue to surface. Despite the worst having passed, something unnerves her about the two of them being separated like this. With the siren wailing in the distance, she's somehow reminded of more complicated times, as if the strange, uninvited tension now hanging loosely in the air has some similarity to that fabled day.
Warily, she nods, shutting these boiling feelings away.
"Okay."
01:55
Another minute ticks by on the clock. The lab's atmosphere has dissolved into a dire, unloving mess. Two hours seemed like such a generous amount of time until it became apparent that their little midnight science experiment was something that was going to take longer than just a couple of hours to fully understand. Crimson-filled vials of Skullgirl blood - the coveted reagent which normally has researchers frothing at the mouths, now motivate the lab's whitecoats about as much as their rapidly approaching deadline.
Every parameter had been double-checked, each test fully admistered, all plausible theories presented and shot down. Each and every attempt at formulating some plan to accomplish the impossible - to separate the Skull Heart from its chosen vessel without bringing any lasting harm to the host, had turned up nothing but dirt. The conclusion which exists at the back of everyone's minds; that what they've been trying to accomplish is impossible, now threatens to rear its head. Cecil has devolved from her original position as an important step forward in the history of Anti-Skullgirl technology into a ticking time bomb ready to explode, the implications of which haven't escaped from her, either.
"There's..." She begins, as Big Band listens from here side, "...really no hope, is there?"
The former beat cop turned lab director is afraid of answering her. To crush any chance of success like that, he thought, would be the final straw.
"I don't need this 'wish' anymore." She continues, "What I want - isn't what I wanted when I came here, to the Canopy Kingdom."
"You ain't from around here?"
Cecil shakes her head, "I'm from the Dragon Empire."
"That's a long way away, kid." He replies, "What the hell did you come here lookin' for?"
"Someone I knew, moved away from where I lived." She explains, "He was such a cruel, vile person. I couldn't just let him leave without paying for what he did."
Her head lowers, "But, when I finally found him again, he was like a completely different person. His personality had changed so much, I could barely believe it was him at first."
True, the two of them still didn't get along well on account of her attitude towards him, but even through her insults and accusations, he never pulled back the curtain to reveal the person she once knew him as. Of course, the truth was that he couldn't even if he felt like it. The slowly-emerging futility of the situation was what had made Cecil's blood boil the most of all. But foolishly, she continued chasing after the hope of it all being a lie, that any day, she would find that he hadn't changed even slightly. Backing off from that, accepting that there no longer existed an outlet for her anger - a truth like that threatened to break her completely. What about that had suddenly changed? Over the course of just a single day, she found herself more and more comfortable with the idea of letting this business fall behind them.
"He wanted to help me." She reminisces, "He's still trying to help me, even when things are this hopeless."
"So it's that kid you're talkin' about, huh..." Big Band closes his eyes, "He seemed like he was struggling with somethin' when we first ran into each other."
Cecil raises her head, "You've met him before?"
"A couple times, actually." He nods, "How do I put it? It was almost like, he was tryin' to figure out who he was. Tryin' to pinpoint where he stood as an individual."
"Hm?" Cecil blinks, "I don't really get it..."
"It was like..." He pauses, "Like watchin' someone live their life on fast-forward. He was pickin' up new thoughts and dropping 'em just as quickly, almost like he was desperate to create some kinda identity. His head soaked up wisdom like a sponge, tryin' to separate the good from the bad faster than it possibly could. Seein' him now, it's almost like he's beginnin' to crystalise, you know? Startin' to slow down and organise himself, really take a few minutes to think about what it is that he wants."
His gaze falls upon Cecil, "Maybe it was you that started it, if what you're sayin' is all true."
"M-Me?"
"Ain't it normal to feel guilty about wronging folk? Afterwards, I mean?" He continues, "That's growth. Even if they're unforgivable, just willin' to attempt to make things better is a step in the right direction."
Big Band's footsteps echo in the airy lab, "So, even if you don't end up forgivin' him, for whatever it is that he did, I think he'll probably still try to help you."
A long silence falls upon the room. Neither of them dare to turn their eyes towards the clock, fearful that the only thing standing between them and tragedy is an acknowledgement that too much time has already passed. The fear of becoming a Skullgirl stabilises in Cecil's heart, moving towards a cold, empty acceptance. But still, hanging above that dread, Big Band's words continue to echo in her ears. It's not the first time in the past 24 hours that her thoughts have drifted towards the idea of forgiveness, but it is the first time that she considers what little importance it must have to C. Whether worthy of forgiveness or not, would he really continue helping her even if there was no chance of it happening?
"...Well, that's just what an old man like me has to say abou-" He leans forward with surprising speed, "Hey now, kid, No need to get up or anything. Don't wanna risk it setting off some kinda chain reaction, you know what I mean?"
Cecil doesn't answer him. A hive of whispers circle in her head - hopes, fears and grievances, all simultaneously bubbling to the surface. Low and quiet, the ticking of her heartbeat thumps in the background, beating alongside a shadow of something else that stirs inside of her. The worries of the outside world, all of its barely decipherable tones and ambiences, blur into a white static, and for a moment, she can notice only herself. When she opens her mouth to breath, the air threatens to freeze her lungs solid. Somebody, who seems so far away, is raising their voice at her, words muffled to the point of uselessness. Even as Cecil recognises that she should be panicking, she finds it difficult to be anything but calm in a situation like this.
Is this death? Or, is she seeing the world from the perspective of someone who's no longer in control of their own body? She can almost feel her twin heartbeats converging towards a single rhythm, approaching perfect harmony. Her mind wanders again, to thoughts of this so-called 'wish' of hers. So much has happened recently that she can barely remember how it was worded in the first place. Whether it was something as vague as 'I want revenge', or so cruelly specific that there could be no room for any twisting of words, how can it be said that she got what she asked for when this is the only outcome she can experience? So, despite this calmness, she can't help but be unsatisfied. Perhaps that's why, at that crucial moment, something strange happens to her. In this hopeless moment, restrained from all control or hope, she experiences the impossible - a crucial 'lucidity' in the darkness, like a crack in the dam, that transpires through the chilling air and blurry outlines moving in the background. As she opens her mouth, a gravely echo accompanies her words.
"My wish..."
And with that final whisper, the room is engulfed in a brilliant, blue-white light.
00:53
"You said it was a cathedral, but-" C pauses, "I was expecting something a little less run-down."
In this samey, unassuming corner of the city, the building's chipped spire could be glimpsed from miles away. Barely anything remains to be admired about the muted stained glass windows, shattered beyond any point of recognition, or the grand buttresses which sit half-collapsed across the spaced walkways at the cathedral's sides. Filia skips up the stairs at the entrance with a pronounced disregard for its grandiosity, Samson's thorny tendrils drifting behind her like jellyfish stingers.
"It got hit hard last year." She flips around, "This was where the last Skullgirl was holed up, after all."
"I guess that explains the, uh..." His eyes drift around the abandoned homes near the street, windows and doors boarded shut, "...Bad vibes, that I'm getting."
"If what Cecil told you is true, then we're not alone here."
"Hell yeah!" Samson roars, "It's about time we got back at that thing for makin' us look weak!"
"Hm?" C hums, "Do you two know the woman who tricked Cecil?"
"Just a little." Filia answers, "Although, the last time we saw her, I thought we made sure she wasn't gonna be coming back."
"Maybe this isn't the best time to be mentioning this, but I'm not much of a fighter."
"I would say it'll be alright because you're just looking for answers." She replies, "...But, she's not the type of person we can just leave alone."
"Because she might try to tempt someone again?"
"I have a feeling this might not be the first time it's happened."
True, Filia had her own reasons for tagging along as soon as she heard about the cathedral. The events of last year had gone on to leave a bad taste in her mouth - nobody in particular came out on top, after all. The only 'victory' she had gotten to celebrate was that Double, for however much of the Canopy Kingdom's curse she was responsible for, had been dealt with for good. Now, even that pyrrhic victory had become a lie, from what she could gleam from C's rapid-fire story. Is a monster like that really immortal? And if so, how crucial is she to the proliferation of Skullgirls? Could it really be true that the Trinity are the root cause of the problem, or does Double just have some kind of pervasive obsession with the goddesses?
The answers, she doesn't know. Nor does she know if they lie beyond the doors of this old place. The rotting wood of the doors scream in protest as she pushes forward, agitating clouds of dust which flutter through the air like snow. C follows behind her meekly, confronted by sudden, apprehensive thoughts, with his hands in his pockets fidgeting for something to do. The bleach-stained antechamber bore the weight of last year's events quite well, far away enough from the carnage that the only tell of its decrepit state is the thick layer of dust coating every surface. Four standing lamps, painted gold, remain lit aside the twin doorways leading into the chapel.
"Yeah..." Samson mutters, eyes running along the walls, "That stink... she's here, alright."
Even in such a desecrated place, both C and Filia feel compelled to maintain the impossible silence of the building by softening their footsteps. Sanctified, marble sculptures of the three goddesses protrude from on high every so often, hands clasped together and eyes tightly shut within gaps between the shattered windows. A vermillion carpet parts two rows of messily-arranged pews, running up to the elevated altar overlooked by a tremendous statue that seems to loom over the entire room. C allows himself to become immersed in wonder for the briefest of moments, amazed at the scale of it all, but, just as he was at the opera house, depressed ever-so-slightly at the thought of a place like this being abandoned.
On the other hand, Filia couldn't be more focused on the task at hand. Especially as she spots the blue silhouette standing at the altar, back turned and hands devoutly together.
"This is a surprise." A legion of voices bounce from the cathedral walls, enveloping the two of them, "We were not expecting to welcome any guests tonight."
"What's really surprising is that you're still alive." Filia folds her arms, "Last time I checked, there was nothing left of you."
"If only the wyrm and his host could have accompanied you to this service. We would have liked to show them the error of their ways." Slowly, the figure lowers its hands to its sides, "However, we are intrigued as to why a nonbeliever would be interested in visiting the Mothers so early in the morning."
"You know why we're here."
Double turns around completely, eyes calmly shut - a warm smile on her uncanny face, "...We are afraid that you have arrived far too late."
"What's going on? Why has another Skullgirl appeared so soon?" Filia replies, "This isn't how it works."
"This one believes she can know of anything she desires." Double answers vaguely, "All she must understand is that an ideal martyr for the heart's influence has presented itself. Such is its attraction that no time could be spared in preparing the girl for her mission."
"So Big Band was right?" C speaks up from a few safe paces away, "The Skull Heart... isn't 'ready' yet?"
"The artifact has not been granted the time it normally needs to regain its power." She explains, "We are thankful for young Cecil's cooperation. Her exceptional soul will serve as the perfect catalyst to restore it to glory."
Her hands rise into the air, head rearing back to meet the stare of the goddesses behind her, "Her hatred and longing mirror the zeal with which the mothers may cast down the hearts of the wicked. When her suffering hand shall come to pluck free the ripe fruits of her 'wish', surely a miracle will occur."
"What kind of monster are you!?" Filia yells, "You're torturing people! And for what!? You're not granting any of Cecil's wishes doing something like this!"
"Alas-" Double pauses, "-We are but a pawn in the Trinity's divine plan. That such a duty is entrusted to us is the greatest blessing of all."
"If the Trinity cared so much about you..." She clenches her fists, "They would have given you a heart of your own!"
"Be silent." The nun's smile barely fades, "Such violent outbursts are not welcome within our walls."
"C."
At the mention of his name, the young man suddenly perks up on the spot.
"Go to where Cecil is." Filia's expression is dark, "We can't learn anything else here."
"But-"
"The boy is right to be concerned." Double suddenly interjects, walking down from the altar, "Reuniting these twin halves shall only become the fuse from which the Skullgirl's miracle will spark."
Filia takes a few steps back, "What are you talking about?"
"The girl's only wish..." She continues, "...Was to take revenge."
"You-" Filia pauses, "...So, if Cecil finds C in the state she's in, then-"
"-A miracle shall occur." She finishes ominously, "The Skull Heart, now blooming from its dormancy, will provide the girl with the push she requires to complete her task. The heart shall drink deep of the blood of the guilty, and Cecil will come to accept her newly-found destiny as Skullgirl."
Double's oppressive voice booms in the airy cathedral, planting doubt after doubt in Filia's mind. Once again, despite the situation, she's forced into this irresistable inaction - forced to choose between seemingly hopeless outcomes as the clock mercilessly ticks on. How much more could she have done, if she had only been given a little more time? What plans will killing Double disrupt that haven't already been set in motion? She represses the thought that coming here had only wasted crucial time, tempted her into settling one final grievance of her own without considering what the correct thing to do actually might have been.
"That's wrong."
A voice breaks her out of her stupor. Wary about pulling her gaze away from Double, she can only listen as C steps just into her peripheral vision, his fists balled at his sides.
"Cecil... wouldn't let something like that happen."
For a moment, Double's pristine expression falters, only to return an instant later.
"The object of her hatred would step forward to defend her?" She asks strangely, "Is he unaware that his selfishness is what brought the girl into our fold?"
"I won't deny anything." He answers confidently, "...I'm sick of this. Coming up with these 'ideas', and 'enlightenments', that excuse me from having to accept anything about what I did. Going from latching onto others, to occupying myself with 'names' and 'identities', to shifting the blame onto some idiot who doesn't exist anymore - I'm tired of trying to say that none of this is my fault."
His hand falls onto his chest, feeling his beating heart, "I did all of it. From the very beginning, I tried to ruin Cecil just to feel better about myself, thinking I'd never have to deal with the repurcussions. I, myself, the real me, the one who I am right now - I'm the target of the 'wish' that started all of this."
"The final flames of grief flicker in your worried mind." Double interrupts, "Acceptance is-"
"But!"
The nun falls silent, her many voices silenced by a single shout.
"I've seen it myself - how Cecil really is, beneath all of the sadness and anger. Even if it was just for a moment, and even if we treated it like some tragic 'prelude' to a nasty conclusion, I was able to be there, in the moment, with the person I know she can be! I couldn't notice it myself because she wasn't the only one perpetuating this hostile atmosphere between us. Because we were able to make that miraculous decision, to set our pride aside and see one-another as equals, I was able to find that common ground that separated us! I was able to see what it was that I wanted to do!"
His posture relaxes, and his voice dims, "It's just a pointless sacrifice. That's what I thought, at least. If I could put aside all of my feelings, I could just exist, and be there to take every blow in her place as if that would make a difference. I wouldn't ask for forgiveness, no matter what, because I thought I didn't deserve it. But, what I didn't realise was that by doing that, I was just standing in front of Cecil and making her own decisions for her. Telling her that it's 'alright', taking away any chance I could have - I wasn't treating her any better than I was before..."
C's brow furrows, "I need to see it for myself. If, separate from any of my own wishes, or my own 'pride', Cecil would really forgive me if she felt the need to."
"Pointless drivel." Double denies, a frown forming on her face, "The girl's entire dogma is her hatred of you. What astronomical chance are you willing to bet your life on, that this is the only solution you can arrive at?"
"I'm not willing to bet anything." He answers quickly, "This is it. The perfect 'suffering' that I deserve."
As C turns around, Double's contorting body swings forward to stop him, only to be blocked halfway by a short wall of raven-black hair as strong as steel. Wincing from anticipation, C whirls to see Filia leaning forward, with Samson struggling to keep the monster held back. The two briefly make eye contact as she takes the time to flash a confident, but clenched, smile.
"You'd better not mess this up." She gets out, "Not after sounding as sure as that."
Without the time to think, he can't help but awkwardly smile back.
"When I make it back, I'll tell you my name." He answers, "I won't forget this time! Probably!"
And, like that, he sprints as fast as his feet can carry him, leaving behind the violent sound of blades against flesh.
14:58
The bell is ever-so-close to ringing.
Although saying that, making some kind of proclamation like things are almost over isn't really possible - the classroom doesn't actually have a clock. Nobody asks why, but if you end up spending the day here, the lesson just seems to drag on forever. With that being the case, how can he say to himself that the bell is close to ringing? Some kind of far-fetched coping mechanism? Perhaps he's just guessing? No, none of these things are right. The truth is, when you're subjected to this kind of 'unknown', this uncharted and indecipherable blank, you start to cultivate a 'sixth sense', almost like how your hearing starts to improve if you suddenly go blind.
And yet, when the bell does ring, I can't help but find myself as surprised as everyone else in the room. Being too sure about something like that would start to make me feel like I could predict anything. There are a few things I'm certain of, though. Tonight, my old man would go on another round of the city, shaking hands with every publisher he could find in the phonebook, so I'll probably go for a meal somewhere besides home. I don't really like having to spend my own money on stuff like that, but if today goes my way, I won't have to worry about it.
None of my friends decided to turn up today. I think they mentioned getting invited to some kind of college mixer, but that kind of thing isn't my style at all. They're probably just getting strung along by some older guys who want to make sure they've got better chances. Tomorrow, they'll definitely tell me something ridiculous about how the girls bought them drinks and they ended up getting in trouble with the police. Probably, they might just get riled up and break someone's car window before running off scared. Maybe tonight, on the docks, I can convince some of those old fishmen to give me a cigarette or two and try to charge those morons some ridiculous price for them tomorrow morning.
The summer's just starting. This building's pretty old so none of the rooms have air-conditioning, but stepping out onto the airless courtyard isn't much better. In amidst the wave of students mobbing towards the front gates, I'm wasting my time in this burning heat craning my neck like an owl looking for someone, trying to spot a telltale glimmer of silver against the sunlight. In the end, I wind up spending a lot of time trying to idle in the shadow of the building while everyone disperses. It works out better this way, but by the time I spot who I'm looking for, all the energy in my body's run out completely.
The girl jolts when she spins around and notices me heading towards her. I can only manage a little hand wave in response.
"Hoy, Cecil." I pause to clear my throat, "You decided to wait, huh? Awfully nice of you."
Before answering, her eyes give the courtyard another look over.
"...You're the only one here, today."
"Ah, those other idiots are off to some college thing." I scratch the back of my head, "It's none of my business. At least it's nice and quiet without them around."
Something shines in the light, poking out and dangling down from her shirt pocket.
"Hm?" I eye the glitter, "What's that you've got there?"
Quickly, her hand shuffles to grab the little chain and tuck it back into her pocket. For only a few seconds, she just stares at the ground look dissatisfied with something.
"You can't have it." She finally answers.
"Show it to me."
She contemplates my outstretched hand like a difficult riddle. I can almost see the gears turning in her head before she makes the decision to fish the object back out from her shirt, putting it daintily in my palm like she's afraid of hurting me.
"Hoh!" I lift the tiny, circular thing up to the sky, "Check that out..."
It's a pocket watch, with one of those little chains you often see. Although, all my eyes can see is the colour of it - the sheen that seems to reflect the sun's light. For a moment, the golden luster makes me forget about anything else before I notice something strange about it. Catching the watch between my hands, I use my fingernail to scrape at the emblem on the face of the cover, frowning a little when I pull my finger back to see that a few thin, gold flakes have peeled off to reveal a drab, black-spotted metal greeting me underneath.
"It's not the real thing, huh?" I mutter, a little disappointed, "That's what I deserve for getting my hopes up, I guess."
Without much ceremony, Cecil meekly reaches forward to retrieve the watch as I hand it back.
"Alright." I take a look around, "...Let's go somewhere a little more private. A few students are still hanging around today."
Cecil doesn't answer me, but I can hear her footsteps behind mine as I turn away. She's so used to hearing those words that we've almost begun to work ourselves into a neat routine that prioritises getting the whole thing done with without wasting anyone's time. If the others were here, we'd all just head over to the side of the building or maybe to one of the empty classrooms, but since it's just me today, I end up putting a bit more thought into where we should be heading. I always tell them that if we keep coming to the same places, we're gonna get caught eventually, but naturally none of them listen to me.
The two of us end up behind the building proper this time around. It's basically a neat hallway with walls on both sides, so if anyone comes, it's super simple to spot.
"Okay!" I clasp my hands together with a forced smile, "How much did your parents give you today?"
Cecil's a pretty unique girl, deep down. On the surface, she's got good grades, mostly keeps to herself, and generally tries her best not to be a nuisance to anyone. What's unique about her is that her folks are some kind of high-priority types working for the government - never asked her for the specifics myself, but if I knew something like that, I'd be getting myself into some real trouble. Apparently they keep her on a pretty down-to-earth lifestyle so she doesn't get spoiled completely rotten, but what isn't so down-to-earth about her is the size of her wallet. See, her parents spend a lot of time away from home on short notice appointments, so naturally she has to pay for a lot of her daily amenities on her lonesome. What that translates to is a wallet that's always full to bursting, usually with more money than she actually needs, or knows what to do with.
With her face quickly reddening, she slowly shakes her head at me.
"...Nothing."
"Eh..." With my hands relaxing behind my head, I try to sound as disappointed as possible, "That's a shame."
Reaching into my own pocket, I pull out a torn-up wallet and quickly run my fingers through the folds to count my own savings. Just enough for a filling meal somewhere near the docks, and spare change to protect myself from the ire of the old cooks when I hand them a bill and expect a bucket-full of coins in return. When I finish my rough counting, I make sure to loosen my fingers on the way back to my pocket, enough so that the wallet falls to the ground between me and Cecil.
"Oh, my bad." I look at my hand like it could possibly take the blame on my behalf, "Would you mind getting that for me, Cecil?"
Hesitating for a moment, she considers her options before deciding to bend forward and reach out for the discarded wallet.
I've always been confident in the strength of my kicks. A few of my friends say I should try out for a martial art, but getting into an actual fight isn't something that fills me with anticipation. On a good day, I can lift my leg into the air higher than where my head is. Cecil must've seen it coming from a mile away, because her hands moved to protect herself almost as soon as I started moving, but holding them over the back of her head like that probably just made it hurt more when I brought the heel of my foot down onto it. Her face meets the ground at an angle that's almost too perfect, with a shrill sound that muffles as her mouth scrapes against the dirt. Specks of mud mat into her bangs, standing out in the silver sheen of her hair.
"I don't really have the energy for this today." I complain, "But, I can't go out to eat with my old man's hard-earned money."
Carefully, I apply a little more weight to my foot.
"Anything's fine." I continue, "The others aren't here, so you don't even have to give me that much. Just enough for a couple of days, alright?"
Working her face up from the ground, Cecil spits out a mess of dirt before replying, her eyes filling with tears.
"I'm telling the truth..." She manages between sobs, "T-They're not going anywhere today, so I don't need any money..."
"Alright, alright, alright. No crying now." Being careful not to cross the point of no return, I quickly remove my foot and start pulling her back to her feet, "Just show me your wallet. But if there's a single coin in there, I'll make sure to tell everyone else next time we do this."
Wiping her eyes, she quickly retrieves it with her free hand and offers it while leaning away from me. Thankfully, I'm pretty familiar with where she normally keeps her notes, so searching the whole thing front to back doesn't take me more than a couple of seconds. With a wary frown, I hand the wallet back over looking more than a little disappointed with myself.
"You really don't have a penny on you?" I sum up carefully, "That's a first."
"W-What was I supposed to do?" She replies, "You didn't believe me!"
"Well, maybe if you hadn't already tried this kind of thing in the past, I would've let you off."
Even still, I can't help but feel a little bad. Separating myself from the emotional part of this routine helps me to ignore what I'm actually doing, even if most of the time I'm just there to add to our usual numbers. Maybe it's just adding insult to injury at this point, but Cecil is kind of a pushover. No matter how much we beat on her or yell at her, she never tries to report us to anyone, even after I messed up and accidentally told her my name that one time. I guess, maybe, she doesn't want her parents knowing she's letting herself get pushed around like this.
But what other option is there for me? If I don't make some effort to support myself, we'll just end up having to move into a smaller place again. The old man's always asking me why I never spend any of my allowance, so naturally I tell him that I'm helping out the dock workers down near the shore, or just cutting out meals when I don't feel hungry enough. Even as he's running out of options to make ends meet, somehow he always hands me that money with a smile on his face. On the other hand, what has Cecil done to deserve any of what she gets? With as many notes as possible crammed into her wallet every week, what harm can it do to take them like this? To take it from people who treat money like running water?
"Get you..."
Looking up from the ground, Cecil is still trying to sniff her tears away to no avail.
"What?" I reply.
"One day..." By her sides, her fists clench, "...I'll get back at you."
In her eyes, I could see it there - something similar to what I felt. A pure, unfiltered rage against injustice, or unfairness. Maybe she's just feeling confident because I'm the only one who showed up today, but the strain in her words makes me feel like the thin rope we've been treading on this whole time is close to snapping for good.
"I've had to deal with this for six years. Had to come up with excuses to my parents for why I've been spending so much money, had to find ways to convince them that I'll be more careful next time, too afraid to tell them that it's because of you that I'm like this."
One final time, she uses her sleeve to wipe her tears.
"So, even if it takes another six..." She continues, "I'll wait for the day when I can make you pay for this!"
In retrospect, this must have been the moment when it happened. This miraculous, mutual knot that had been forever formed to join us at the hip from then until the end of time. If there is such a thing as destiny, then back then was when my fate had already been decided for me. No matter how many changes of heart I had, or how much I would come to regret any of it, finding myself at the mercy of my actions, right then, became the only conclusion I could possibly arrive at. For close to seven years, I followed the actions of my peers and accosted Cecil nearly every day of the week, stealing her money and beating her if she didn't have any. I remember the sour taste in my mouth somedays, when we had kicked or punched her so hard that she wouldn't even get back up anymore, when we could just reach into her pocket and take every last penny she had.
She never told a soul. Maybe that's the one thing I'm still sure of - that she was a moron for never running to a teacher or to her parents. If she had even suggested doing any of that stuff, I bet we would've turned around and sprinted off with our tails between our legs without a second thought. Looking back, in that way, I realise now that we were the cowards, only at the top because Cecil allowed us to be. I remember that sinking feeling I had that day, when she told me I was going to pay. Maybe I felt like I had to regain some control of the situation, or maybe I was just lashing out at her, but I reached forward to yank out that little watch of hers, like just having it would satisfy me.
I could've done anything to support the old man. I could've just gotten a part time job, like what everyone else did when they wanted some extra money.
But I didn't. Because, even if I tried to justify it back then, stealing from Cecil was the easiest way to do it. Adopting that unthinking, unfeeling mindset that I was working towards some justified goal more important than someone else's emotions, I retreated into a wicked shell where I could hear only the sounds of my own affirmations. I became a truly cruel person, deserving of any punishment I got.
I run through the streets of New Meridian, panting for a deep breath that wouldn't come for hours, accepting, at least, of any punishment at that place.
Where Cecil awaited.
02:10
A siren fills the air.
And yet the street is filled with such lonely brilliance, that an onlooker would barely hear it.
Feet unsteady on the asphalt, a silver-haired girl moves without purpose, turquoise whisps of freezing flame dancing and dissipating around her body. In her ears, the ghostly thump of a slow heart echoes, threatening to beat straight through her chest. The world around her grows dimmer, shrinking inwards, towards the simulacrum of thoughts swirling in her head. Unaware of her surroundings, animated by a darker purpose unknowable to her, she continues this way through these empty streets, free only to ponder the burning questions that, even in this tragic state, stubbornly refuse to leave her in peace.
Stopping briefly, her crimson pupils, in the shape of death, follow up to the starry abyss of the night sky, as a single beaded tear forms, but never drops, from her unblinking eyelid.
"Are you coming?" She asks quietly, "...Corpus?"
-END OF CHAPTER-