Wiping hot tears away with the back of her hand, Hikaru calmed herself. She was undoubtedly overwhelemed, and now frightened, for any of the younger girls might die. But she knew that, with Fuu too weak to even stand steadily, let alone fight, it was upon her shoulders to save them.
Pushing away thoughts of why me?, Hikaru straightened her posture and faced Presea and Meline.
"This is going to stop," she announced as strongly as possible. "I'm not letting you do any more damage."
Presea grimaced. "You still stand. The other Magic Knight still lives. I won't stop until you're both dead."
Hatred for the raven-haired girl began bubbling in Hikaru's gut as she glared at Meline. "Will I end up killing Presea because of you?"
Meline smiled wryly. "That depends. Personally, I don't care if she dies. Presea is only a tool. However, I will make sure that you end up as dead as the other Magic Knight." Her amber eyes narrowed in menace as she continued, "You'll pay for your sin, you can be sure of that, but not even your death is compensation for killing my parents."
"I didn't kill them!" Hikaru wailed.
"Shut up!" Meline whirled around, eyes blazing, to face Presea. "Kill her!" she shrieked.
Presea drew her sword slowly. She was sick of this stupid fight, but why not continue? The Magic Knight deserved to die. But Presea was so weary of battle that she couldn't find the motivation to raise her sword.
"What are you waiting for?!" Meline demanded. "Do what I told you to!"
Clenching both hands tightly around the hilt of her sword, Presea closed her eyes.
Worthless. You're worthless. You hate the Magic Knight --- you hate them all --- but you can't even kill her. It's so easy. You're just too weak.
Gritting her teeth, Presea felt the familiar fury at herself churning deep inside her. Am I that weak?
Yes. You're weak and horrible. How many have you killed? How many more will you kill? The only ones supposed to die here were the Magic Knights, but you botched that and ended up killing innocent people instead. Don't you have more self-respect than that? How could you stoop to that level? This was supposed to be revenge, not a massacre, you nasty---
She lunged forward, swinging her sword blindly. The Magic Knight's blood spattered on the grass as Presea spun backwards from the force of her swing, dropping to one knee as she lost her balance. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Hikaru pressing one hand over a deep gash on her exposed arm, the redness staining her white gloves.
Getting to her feet, Presea turned to stand in front of the redhead. Hikaru began to move away, but Presea quickly brought her sword forward. The flat of the blade made contact with the side of Hikaru's head, knocking the Magic Knight down hard.
As Presea moved to deliver a killing blow to Hikaru's unprotected midsection, the petite girl sprawled on the grass snapped her hand up, screaming, "Flame Arrow!"
Her sword slipped from her hand, falling to the grass as Presea raised her arms to protect her face from the fiery blast. The flames seared through her black sleeves, and she cried out in pain and a high level of frustration. She retaliated instantly, sending a thick wave of thunder at the Magic Knight, who had by now gotten to her feet, and nearly knocked her down again.
"Presea-san, stop!" Fuu begged from her position across the grass. Presea released a bolt of lightning in answer. The electricity cracked loudly, shot through the air, and darted into Fuu's body. She slumped from a sitting position to a sprawled one upon the grass, her eyes closed.
"Fuu-chan!" Hikaru turned so quickly, her braid whipped across her face. "Presea, you killed her!"
"I wish." The blond woman raised her sword. "I'll finish that job later. At least she's shut up for now." She narrowed her eyes. "Now I'm going to kill you."
Hikaru bit her lip, which had begun trembling from the threat of tears. She brought her sword up to block Presea's swing; the taller woman pressed the flat of her blade forcefully against Hikaru's sword. "I'm tiring of this, Magic Knight."
The redhead squeezed her eyes shut, pushing back with her sword, too hard, perhaps, because she heard a dry scrape as her sword slipped off of Presea's from an odd angle and swept down.
The nauseating stench of warm blood became present again as Presea's scream caused Hikaru to open her eyes in a jolt of fear. When she saw what she had done, her sword fell to the grass and her hands were pressed over her mouth against a scream, a sob, or yet another fit of vomiting, which she didn't know, didn't care.
Presea dropped to the grass, curling up in a ball and cradling what remained of her left arm. It was barely a stump, hewed off halfway between the elbow and the shoulder by Hikaru's sword.
As the fallen woman whimpered helplessly, Hikaru's watery carmine gaze shifted to her sword lying at her feet. Presea's blood was smeared across the blade, a sickening red in the sunlight. A weak sob escaped the Knight; she fell to her knees, taking Presea in her arms in apology as she verbally apologized: "I'm sorry, Presea, so... so sorry..."
"Get off me!" Presea shoved herself away from Hikaru, glaring at her venmously. "Don't touch me."
The hot tears spilled out of Hikaru's eyes as she continued on, "I'm sorry, Presea. I'm sorry! I didn't mean---"
Presea turned away, still cradling what was left of her arm, tears beginning to leak out onto her face. Meline glared at her, poison in her narrowed eyes. "Get up!" Presea didn't move. "What's wrong with you?!" When Presea still ignored her, Meline scrunched up her brow in a poutful scowl. "Fine then!" she half-screamed.
Meline bent over, lifting Presea's sword from the grass. She lifted in in menace as she turned to face Hikaru. "I'll finish it myself!" she shouted, her stringy black hair falling over her eyes.
Hikaru clutched one hand in the other nervously, backing away. She couldn't... she couldn't fight. Not anymore. What if it came down to killing this poor girl? No. She couldn't...
"Meline!" cried a small voice. Cerise, hiding in Ascot's arms, reached a desperate hand out to her sister. "Meline, don't!"
Meline ignored her.
Ascot gently took his little sister's hand, lowering it as she leaned against him, whimpering regretfully.
Larumele jolted out of her deep sleep suddenly, awakened by a mournful wail. She sat up stiffly, still sleepy. However, she became wide awake immediately as she saw Yeiry hunched over Nobyre, sobbing, her long, blond hair hanging down around her face in curtains.
Awkwardly, Larumele climbed down off her cot, moving over to Nobyre and Yeiry. She touched Nobyre's hand, and, feeling its complete iciness, realized what had happened.
"Oh, Yeiry-chan..." Larumele sat on the edge of the cot, taking her friend into her arms. Yeiry leaned against her, still sobbing, clutching one of Nobyre's limp hands in both of hers. Tears leaked out of her sky-colored eyes as Larumele squeezed her friend tight, because even though she could lend some strength to Yeiry, who was so weak emotionally, she was still torn by Nobyre's death.
She felt a gentle hand on shoulder, and Larumele glanced up. Waemi was standing behind her, her marine eyes overflowing with tears. "Wa... Waemi-chan?" Larumele gasped in disbelief.
Waemi pressed her hand over her mouth, glancing away. "There... there isn't any time."
"What do you mean?" Larumele let go of Yeiry, turning to face Waemi. "Waemi-chan, what're you talking about?"
"I don't know. But someone else is going to die soon, unless someone saves them..." She sniffled. "I miss you guys."
Larumele only half-understood the first part of Waemi's statement, but her eyes flooded with tears as she confessed, "We miss you, too."
The dark-haired girl leaned over, putting her arms around Larumele, but her arms passed through the other girl's body. She let out a moan of regret.
Then Larumele blinked, and Waemi wasn't there. She leapt to her feet, furiously feeling the air. "Waemi-chan? Waemi-chan?!"
Yeiry lifted her face, her coffee-colored eyes brimming with tears. "Are you okay, Larumele-chan?"
Larumele grew silent; she looked back at Yeiry, still clutching Nobyre's lifeless hand, and realized she hadn't seen Waemi, not even an apparation of her, she had only imagined it. Waemi was dead, and ghosts weren't real.
The brunette shivered. The room was suddenly cold.
Yeiry stood, finally dropping Nobyre's lifeless hand and gently resting her own hand on Larumele's arm. "Larumele-chan," she said, tearfully, almost voicelessly.
"I thought I saw her." Larumele's voice trembled slightly. "I thought I saw Waemi-chan..." She turned, leaning her head down on Yeiry's shoulder. Larumele was taller, so it was awkward, but she didn't seem to care. "Yeiry-chan... there's something wrong with me."
Yeiry took her friend's face in her hands, lifting her face so she could look up at her, then dropping her hands and folding them in front of the skirt of her apron. "Larumele-chan... there's something wrong with all of us."
Tears sprung fresh from Larumele's eyes; she looked down into Yeiry's chocolate ones, and the heartwrenching expression in them caused her to fling her arms around her friend, drawing her into a tight embrace. "Yeiry-chan," she sobbed into the blond halo of the shorter girl's hair, and Yeiry's hot tears soaked the front of Larumele's apron.
That was how Hedaimo saw them when she opened her eyes, summoning conciousness. She sat up with difficulty, but her arm buckled from underneath her, and she fell back to the cot mattress with a groan.
Wiping her nose on her sleeve, Yeiry raised her head from Larumele's shoulder, her eyes red from crying. "Hedaimo-chan?"
Hedaimo curled herself up in a ball on the cot, covering her face with her hands. "It hurts," she moaned.
Sitting on the edge of the cot, Yeiry brushed Hedaimo's coffee-colored hair out of her face and leaned over her, rubbing her back and whispering comfortingly while her friend whimpered softly. Larumele leaned back against the wall, reaching over and touching the head of her already lifeless friend, stroking the white-blond hair with her fingertips as she watched the other two. Yeiry had so much trouble keeping her own emotions in control, but she was the most comforting out of all the people Larumele knew.
Hedaimo moaned again, crossing her arms over her middle, her eyes squeezed shut against the pain. Larumele moved over to her, reluctantly leaving Nobyre, and sat with Yeiry on Hedaimo's cot, stroking her friend's hair in a comforting manner. Hedaimo whimpered painfully; her hand flew to cover her mouth as she began coughing violently.
For the period of coughing, Larumele squeezed Hedaimo's other hand, reminding her that she was there, and when Hedaimo was done coughing, Yeiry gently pulled her hand away from her mouth. The two girls saw the specks of blood on Hedaimo's palm, and they sent each other quick, fretful glances.
Then Hedaimo began coughing again, worse than before. Yeiry bent over her, hugging her tightly; after a hesitation, Larumele hugged her as well, because somewhere inside, they both knew.
More blood came up onto Hedaimo's hand. Larumele brought the skirt of her apron up, covering her friend's mouth so she could drop her hand. Eventually, the coughing stopped, and Hedaimo's head rested back against Yeiry's chest while the blond still hugged her from behind, whispering to herself in a kind of chant, "No, Hedaimo-chan, no, Hedaimo-chan..."
