The Gates of Hell ~ Chapter 3

I managed to run to the gym just before the minute hand clicked onto 8:00, panting hysterically and almost stumbling over the mats sprawled out in front of me across the floor. I had left the mess hall what felt like hours ago, but I could still vividly picture the form of Sephiroth inside my head, staring woodenly up at me through his aqua green eyes. My cheeks were still faintly tingling with faded blush.

I met my three companions near the far wall.

"There you are!!" Mackenzie breathed restlessly as I ran up, and instantly all three whirled about to face me with irritated glares. "That was almost too close! One second later and Garcia would've flattened your face!!"

"Where the heck were you, anyways?" Aimee questioned, meeting my eyes with her puzzled stare. "We were almost sure Landon had caught up with you again!"

"...I wouldn't worry about him," I broke in. "He's left the academy."

"What?!" All three gasped simultaneously and drew up close to me. "No way!! You're kidding!!"

"Cutting it rather close, eh, Avalon?" interrupted Garcia's cynical voice, and as I turned about I saw his stocky form standing menacingly over me. "I was literally 10 feet behind you your entire way here. Just to make sure you made it in time. Missed a nice jog around the city by twelve seconds. Impressive." With that, he turned in place and surveyed the students scattered about the room. "Now then," he announced, crossing his arms and exhaling a breath. "Partner up. We're practicing defensive drills again today, and I expect there to be some improvement over last class." He seemed to be casting rather noticeable glances over in my direction. (Jackass, I thought sourly) "Each of you will take a turn attacking your partner while I time for 15 minutes. Your partner is in charge of keeping count of how many punches you can throw out in that time. After the 15 minutes are up, you'll switch places. Questions?" Hardly a second had passed before he went on, "Good. Pair up, then."

The class began to emit a muffled hum of mumbles as we split off into groups of two and spread ourselves throughout the gym. Garcia watched our movements for a moment, then cast a lazy glance down at the stopwatch hanging from his throat and sauntered over towards the wall.

I slipped a yellow punching pad over my hand as Aimee slipped wrist guards onto her hands. "...So wait, keep talking," she told me, lifting her hands up before her face and shifting up onto her toes. "You never finished explaining. Landon got expelled?"

I shook my head, getting down into a half crouch and lifting the pad before my face as Garcia blew his whistle. "No, no..." I corrected her, struggling to be heard over the dull thumps her knuckles emitted when they hit the pad. "He quit. Just packed up and left."

Aimee's consecutive string of punches halted momentarily as she drew backwards in shock, but it resumed once again after one stern glare from Garcia. "Wow. That Sephiroth guy has one hell of a persuasive manner. How can the academy allow him to stay?"

"Well, I personally say good riddance to Landon," I broke in abruptly, my hands tightening into fists behind the punching pad. "That asshole had it coming to him forever. It was only a manner of time before someone kicked him in the balls."

"...Wh--Kay, you can't possibly think that just because Landon wasn't the most orthodox guy in the world meant he deserved to be nearly choked to death!" Aimee retorted irritably, and I could feel that her next chain of punches were noticeablely more fierce than the others. "Kyra, that guy is a psycho! He needs to be locked up or somethin' before he goes and--"

"Avalon!" Garcia's interrupting voice called out from somewhere behind me. "What number we up to?"

I immediately fell back into a defensive pose, holding the pad up closer to my face, and chose the first numbers that popped into my head: my age backwards and my lucky number. "Sir!! 617, sir!"

I could tell by the awkward hesitation that followed that Garcia had truly not expected an answer, and he grumbled something that sounded like an aggravated, "Carry on, then" as he sulked away towards another pair of students.

I turned back towards Aimee, who I could tell was trying to mask her amusement with her previous rage. "...I'm not saying that Landon deserved to die," I continued casually, as if nothing had interrupted; I had become rather accustomed to ignoring Garcia. "I'm just saying that an egomaniac like him deserved to be humbled a bit, that's all."

"Four more minutes!" Garcia's voice announced. It was hard to hear him over the resounding sounds of fists hitting foam and loud cries of attacking students echoing in the vast gym.

"Kay, how can you say that?!" Jesus, what had crawled up Aimee's ass and died? God forbid I ever say frickin' anything. Geez. "There is never any valid reason to stroll up and freakin' strangle someone! That Sephiroth is a menace to society!"

'Menace to society'? What the hell is this, "NYPD Blue"??? But Garcia's warning of two minutes remaining cut me short.

"...Ugh..." The next series of attacks that Aimee slammed into my punching pad made a wave of fatigue and numbness shoot through my arms, and one glance up from the floor revealed that my surroundings were spinning and blurring in the phosphorescent lights. Dammit... I thought distantly, cringing noticablely as a shock of pins and needles surged through my forearms. Not again...

"...Kyra?" Aimee finally halted her relentless lecturing and blinked several times, shifting backwards to eye me up and down. I thought I had taught myself to successfully hide my bouts with illness, but apparently not. "Kay, are you alright? You're not looking so good..."

I have to say I was relieved she had stopped her attacks, and I took the brief opportunity to drop both my hands to my thighs and bend over to catch my breath. I could feel icy droplets of sweat slithering slowly down my forehead and along the bridge of my nose. My entire body had turned so light, wafting hazily atop its feet amongst a blurring background of glaring lights. I slowly caused my head to lift, casting sweaty strands of brunette hair across my flushed face and causing my thoughts to swim within my skull, but I flashed her a weary smile. "...Y...yea," I lied conspicuously, clasping an arm across my stomach as a vicious cramp cleaved into my gut. "...I'm...I'm fine....Just, um...give me...one second..."

The spell was getting worse. The excruciating throbbing in my head was now causing white flares of agony to flash before my eyes, and after a moment of helpless blindness I found myself collapsing weakly towards the floor.

"Kay?!" I felt Aimee's arms catch me before I could reach the ground, but her voice sounded muffled beneath my pounding headache. "Kay, oh my God!!"

I could feel cold tile now; I suppose Aimee had lowered me to the ground and was now embracing me tightly. The floor beneath me was reverberating with heavy approaching footsteps, but my eyes were still unable to see and all my strength seemed to have left me. Vaguely I could still hear Aimee's terrified cries for help and the sound of curious students running up while murmuring to each other, but some sort of high-pitched ringing had started in my ears.

"What the hell--" I could easily recognize Garcia's charming voice, and now I could feel his heavy shadow falling over me as he separated the ring of other students that had formed around us. "Oh goddam--someone call the hospital wing and tell the Professor that Avalon's collapsed. Yuki, Shiro--I'm talking to you two, dammit!"

The two specified students departed with cries of "Sir!", and now I could feel Garcia kneeling down beside me and feeling for a pulse in my wrist. "I think she's gunna be alright....Avalon, you just keep breathin', ya hear me?...Jesus, Nekoi, you're gunna kill her!!"

"What's the matter?!" Aimee exclaimed tearfully, tightening her grip about me despite Garcia's sarcastic comment. "I...I don't understand--she was fine one minute, and the next thing I know--oh, sir, I swear to God I didn't mean to--!!" Her voice dissipated into a series of sobs, and I felt several icy tear droplets splatter onto my cheeks.

It was so difficult to hear them over the shrill ring within my skull, as if they were speaking in a room full of triggered alarm clocks, but all at once I could feel the clutch of guilt seizing hold of my stomach. I wanted to hug her, tell her I was alright, that this had happened many times before, that she had nothing to do with it--but all the air had left my lungs and my ribcage had collapsed beneath the pain crushing my body.

"Calm down, Nekoi, she'll be alright," I heard Garcia reassure her, although I could tell he was preoccupied by maintaining my pulse. "This wasn't you--Professor Hojo had told me before that Avalon might have an attack like this and to simply send her to him if she does. She'll be fine."

I could sense her hand wrapped tightly around my arm, but there was no will or strength in my body to grab it comfortingly in my own. Don't be sad, Aimee...I'm fine, I really am! Everything's fine...

The next thing I knew someone seized me roughly and pulled me forcibly away from Aimee, thrusting me hastily (and rather brutally...if I could have spoken I would have cursed the asshole out) onto my back onto what felt like a stretcher. I couldn't tell if my eyes were open or closed--the unusual flashes of light were continuing to blind me, pulsating in succession with the throbs in my head. Now I could feel straps being fastened across me, anchoring me to the firm board beneath me, and after counting to three I was hoisted into the air by what sounded like five people (I was relying entirely on my dulled sense of hearing now). I was being carried, whisked away from the watching eyes and tears that had begun to burn in my mind, and through the brutal hammering choking all my thoughts I came to the dazed realization that I always seemed to flee when I couldn't take the pressure.

~*~

I hate the dark.

I always have. Ever since I was younger I've always had a phobia of when all light is extinguished, sealing you in an inescapable cocoon of isolation and forgotten thoughts. It's only when you're alone in the dark that everything from deep within you begins to inadvertently manifest itself--memories of the past, suppressed emotions, frightening realizations. Something about the murkiness draws out such thoughts, invading your soul, attacking your mind. And what frightens me even more is that I'm alone in the battle.

My entire body was strapped tightly in place, arms fastened at my sides, my head unable to lift. I was alone in the dark, staring helplessly up at the ceiling I could sense was only a matter of inches above my nose, unable to move, unable to breathe, unable to stifle the violent quivering that had spread throughout my body.

God, how long had I been in here?

My eyes shifted restlessly back and forth, blindly surveying the darkness surrounding me and attempting to distract my mind to the point of not drifting.

I cringed at the sudden flash that erupted centimeters from my eyes with a mechanical whirring noise, and after a momentary pause they pale green stripe of light before my face began to gradually slide over my body, humming metallically. I could feel its warmth skimming slowly over my body, like I was gradually being immersed in water. I forced myself to swallow, tightening my fists at my sides and feeling my ragged breaths ricocheting off the darkness back onto my face.

A muffled voice from outside: "One more moment, Miss Avalon--that's it, just hold still--"

I held my breath--my heaving gasps for air had caused my chest to move noticeably--cinching my eyes shut and digging my front teeth into my lower lip. The light was finishing up scanning my knees, moving down to my ankles--

"Splendid, Miss Avalon. All finished."

There was another loud buzzing sound, and as suddenly as it appeared the green light was extinguished, plunging me into darkness once again. I exhaled the breath I'd been holding, struggling to breathe beneath the heavy leather straps fastened across my torso, and cracked my eyes open once more. The intense blackness above me was rippling from its strain on my eyes, and I instantly began to feel claustrophobic, crushed on all sides by the small quarter's invisible aura.

What the hell let me out of here what's taking so frickin long.....

The machine around me began to vibrate with a dull humming noise, and all at once I became aware of the wonderfully relieving sensation of the platform I was laid atop of slowly sliding downwards. My hands gradually loosened, releasing my sore fingers from my crushing fists, and my compacted chest finally allowed a second weary sigh to escape. Pale white light began to sluggishly filter into the darkness, burning my blurry eyes and revealing the walls and ceiling of the tunnel only centimeters from my face. The platform continued to slide downwards, finally exiting the darkness of the machine and revealing white tile and glaring lights overhead.

Instantly several ShinRa scientists strutted forward, standing emotionlessly over me as they hastily unbuckled the harnesses anchoring my body in place and unclamping the vice about my head. No words were exchanged as they released the straps binding my thighs and calves, and as I finally shifted up into a sitting position they left my sides to observe the multicolored monitors lining the outside walls of the machine.

I shrugged my shoulders uncomfortablely, attempting to soothe the fiery pain caused by lack of movement in my neck, the visually followed the expressionless scientists sauntering quickly across the tile floor, murmuring unintelligibly to each other while flipping pages attached to wooden clipboards. No one seemed to notice my presence anymore.

"...Feeling better now, Ms. Avalon?" A chillingly raspy voice, which I immediately recognized as the same one that had spoken to me while I was in the machine, hissed from somewhere behind me, and as I slowly turned about I noticed the uncanny form of a middle aged man with greasy black hair oozing over one shoulder. He shuffled up towards me with fluid, almost snake-like steps, hunched over with his hands clasped behind his back, while watching me hungrily through a wide pair of thick glasses. His thin, dry lips had twisted up into a wry smile, revealing yellowing teeth against the contrast of his bony, sickeningly pale face. His scrawny, almost sickly frame was hidden beneath a heavy white lab coat.

He drew up beside the platform I was positioned on, continuing to grin eerily and shift his glasses further up on his nose. Brr, this jackass gave me the creeps every time I caught a whiff of his musty chemical smell.

I forced a weary smile. "Yes, Professor, much." Can I leave now? You scare the crap outta me, you freakass pedophile.

"Splendid." His gaze shifted to the left, towards a monitor on the machine that projected a pixilated image of my body surrounded by small pie charts and other flashing data. He flipped casually through the papers on his clipboard, jotting down numbers and notes on who knows what, then shifted to the next screen portraying a picture of my skeletal setup. He murmured quietly to himself, stroking his bony, oily chin, and scribbled down more.

I watched him in silence, unaware of what else to do, as he made his way down the row of monitors while continuing to write on his clipboard. There was a brief pause, though it was hard to hear over the bustling noises of the rest of the scientists scurrying about the room, and finally he turned about on his heel and made his way back towards me, grinning with feigned warmth. Ugh, don't do that. "All done then, Miss Avalon," he told me, leaning in close and slipping two fingers into the neck of my sports bra so that he could read the numbers of the barcode tattooed over my heart. I winced at the feeling of his dry, icy fingers against my skin. After all the times I'd been forced to come and get treatment from him, I was 100% positive that he had memorized my ID code--however, he seemed to get pleasure from leering at my chest each time I visited. Bastard. Don't touch me.

He jotted down my number along with other notes, I'm sure, then tore the paper off his clipboard and handed it off to some passing scientist. "You seem quite recovered now, my dear," he told me, sauntering over to a cabinet against the far wall and opening the double doors. Thanks, you ass--I guess if you say it, it must be true. If I had more balls, I would've given that guy such a case of the....."I'll just give you your injection and then you can be on your way, hmm?"

I nodded silently, not caring that he wasn't even facing me, then cleared my throat nervously. "...Professor, I was...meaning to ask you about that."

He still wasn't facing me, now holding a small bottle of liquid and a syringe up towards the light so he could see the measurement markings along the side. "...About what, my dear?"

"These injections you give me every time I have an attack," I answered him, ripping the wires and IVs suction cupped all over my body away with a string of eight consecutive pops. "...You...I was under the impression that they would decrease the frequency of the attacks or at least make them less severe." I sat at the edge of the table, dangling my legs over the side. "...but I think their actually happening more often, if anything." I watched as he slipped a pair of rubber gloves over his hands and approached me once again. "...What's wrong with me, Professor...?"

"Tilt your head now, that's it." He seemed completely oblivious to what I had just said, tipping my head so that my cheek rested on my shoulder and rubbing alcohol on my exposed neck. "My dear, I believe that you are simply taking more time to respond to the drug," he replied casually, and I winced noticeably as he inserted the needle into the side of my throat. A fiery current raced through my bloodstream, causing my arms and legs to go numb and my vision to black out temporarily. "It's truly nothing to worry about. You simply come back here any time you feel an attack coming on, hmm? I'll run some tests, give you another injection, and you'll be good to go."

"...Yessir." I stood, hesitating for a moment in order to allow the feeling to return to my extremities, then nodded respectfully. "Thank you, sir."

Professor Hojo snapped off both rubber gloves, tossing them carelessly into the pail beside the table and throwing his arm about my shoulders. He's touching me again, why is he touching me? "Anytime, my dear. You just remember what I said and try to stay well, hmm?"

"Yessir." I shifted uncomfortably out from underneath his embrace and shuffled backwards towards the door. "So long."

I didn't wait for him to reply; to hell with this. I whirled about on my heel, accidentally colliding with another scientist who simply reshuffled the papers he was holding and continued forward without as much as a reaction, and sauntered towards the door. I could still feel his icy green eyes drilling brutally into my back as I left, watching out after me over his glasses as I walked alone down the empty hallway back towards the main building.

~*~

I didn't realize how long I had been receiving treatment in Professor Hojo's lab; by the time I reached the main gym in order to return to my class, a new group of students were practicing there. As a matter of fact, that's the first time I actually decided to read the analog clock hanging above the doorway, which revealed there was only half an hour or so before lunch mess. As a result, my initial reaction was Screw this, announcing my decision to wander the hallways until the bell rang; I was in no mood to hike across campus to reach my materia class, much less actually sit through it.

So I wandered.

The hallways were entirely empty, with the exception of the occasional class cutter such as myself or a medical team rushing an injured student up towards the hospital wing. They cast me a stern glance as they raced by, and one even cried out, "Why aren't you in class?", but other than that, they were much too preoccupied with the blood gushing out of a student's stomach or the fact that his entire left arm was entirely enveloped in third degree burns to pay me any more mind, and I saluted their backs with a one fingered farewell as soon as they passed me by.

After maybe ten minutes or so of aimless journeying, I was actually becoming rather bored and was toying with the thought of maybe heading in the direction of my class when I heard the sound of a shouting voice coming from somewhere down the hall. I hesitated for a moment, glancing around me to see if anyone else had heard the noise; however, I was entirely alone in this corridor, with the exception of the resounding yells continuing further down in front of me. I shuffled silently forward, hearing the noise grow louder--that voice sounded familiar--and casting glances into any rooms I passed.

I had reached the closed double doors of one of the auxiliary gyms and had flicked a quick gaze through one of the small port windows when I halted clumsily. There, positioned across the room from the doors, was a pair of figures standing before a row of suspended punching bags. One was especially tall, a good half a foot above the other, while standing rigidly and staring at the ceiling--a student, I presume, judging by the uniform and respectful salute....although he seemed to be stifling some anger by the way his fists were clenched at his sides. The other, shorter, fatter, and better dressed, was walking about the student in irritated circles, with his hands clasped behind his back and stopping occasionally only to shake a scolding finger.

I drew up closer to the window, squinting my eyes and pressing my forehead up against the cold glass. I recognized the shorter figure--that was General Heidegger, an extremely conspicuous right-hand man for the ShinRa Corp; between his obesity, his tight-stretched green uniform, and the bushy brown beard encompassing at least 75% of his face, he was the type of guy you'd be able to point out in the dark. He seemed to be the one who was yelling, pacing back and forth across the floor and waving about a crumbled piece of paper he held in his pudgy fist.

I lifted my hands to the window, squinting my eyes even further. Now who was the other one....?

I drew in a sharp gasp as I noticed silvery hair falling loosely over the student's broad shoulders, and my mind instantly pieced that together with his height and obvious rage problem to realize that it was no other than Sephiroth, standing rigidly against the wall while taking a verbal whipping from a very obviously pissed off Heidegger. I must have made more noise than I thought, because for a moment the general ceased his lecture to cast a glance over his shoulder at the doors where I stood. I instantly clapped two hands over my mouth and threw myself to the floor, out of sight. There was a pause, but suddenly I could hear his voice continuing to shout, though muffled by the doors between us. I pressed my ear against the cold metal.

".....ompletely unacceptable, do you hear me??" Heidegger was yelling, and I could hear the rustle of the paper in his hand once again. "Do you understand my absolute shock when I got this in the mail this morning?? Hmm??"

"....No, sir," came Sephiroth's emotionless reply.

"Look at this!! Look!!!" Uncrumpling paper. "Our enrollment has dropped off 37%!! 37%!!!! After people heard that there is a possibility that one could get choked to death during training, they decided that this was not a good place to apply!! Do you realize what a couple more of your pointless stunts could do to this academy??"

"...Yes, sir."

"No, I don't think you do!!" I could hear fancy polished shoes squeaking against tile, and I guess he had begun to pace again. "Do you realize, Sephiroth, that we need students to apply here in order to stay open?? What do you think will happen to you and the rest of your classmates if this place goes ka-put?? Hmm?? It's the street for all you bastards, that's what!!"

"Yes, sir."

"Now I don't ever want to hear about any crap like this ever again!!" It sounded like Heidegger's breaths had become ragged; poor old fat man. "If I do, I think it's safe to say that you will not like my reaction, do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir."

"...Fine then." The general exhaled an exhausted breath--yes, insulting all of one's students certainly takes a lot out of one, I'm sure--and a faint ruffling noise told me his was digging into his pocket for a handkerchief. "Now...there seems to be approximately 20 minutes until lunch mess. I believe a strong young man like you would be able to make it, say, three times around the city in that time?? Without bothering any innocent resident or knocking over anything?? And he would still be able to make it exactly on time to the mess hall??"

There was an agitated pause after that one. "...Yes, sir."

"I thought so. At ease, then." I heard him turn about on his heel, trudging towards the door on the opposite side of the gym, then stop and turn about. "...Oh, and wear a sweatshirt. It started raining."

"Yes, sir." Heidegger's footsteps left the room, and I heard a pair of doors swing closed.

I didn't move for a moment, still listening intently with my ear against the door, then shifted slowly up into a standing position in order to peer through the small circular window. Sephiroth still hadn't moved from his rigid stance against the wall, though now his face showed an obvious expression of fury, and all at once he whirled about with a piercing yell and slammed his fist brutally into the wall. I exhaled a frightened squeal, stumbling inadvertently backwards as I could feel the double doors vibrate on their hinges, then struggled to regain myself and peer through the window once more. Sephiroth was heading over towards the storage closet behind the dumbbell pyramids, where I knew a series of heavy sweatshirts hung in case of adverse weather.

I slowly pushed open the double doors, hesitating momentarily after catching a glimpse of the large dent put through the wall.

He was no longer in sight as I made my way into the gym, noticing a thin layer of dust and sand on the mats after observing that one punching bag was missing from the line, then straightened myself up and approached the closet.

He had already pulled a large black sweatshirt emblazoned with the ShinRa logo over his head by the time I came into view, and he was oblivious to my presence, pulling the hood over his head and reaching for the doorknob of the emergency exit towards the back of the closet.

"...H...Hey!!" I cried hoarsely, holding an arm out towards him. "W...wait a sec!!"

He halted, turning to cast a glance over his shoulder, then turned about fully when he saw my face. His eyes still showed a tint of anger, but his face remained carved from stone. His green eyes glowed especially eerily when hidden in the shadow of his hood. He didn't speak.

Dammit, my face was turning red again. Maybe he didn't notice... "Hi again," I began stupidly, smiling and holding my hand up in a pathetic wave gesture. "...Do...do you remember me...?"

He didn't respond, staring indifferently down into my face. I was almost about to start another conversation with myself when all of a sudden he broke in monotonously. ".....Yes. Kyra."

"...H...huh??" I must've sounded really retarded then, but I couldn't help it--I wasn't even expecting him to recognize my face, let alone recall my name. I exhaled a nervous laugh and nodded hastily, almost unnaturally. "...Y...yea!! How...how are ya??" I had a feeling he wasn't going to answer, either that or all of a sudden deck me in the face, so I only left half a second of reaction time before I went on. "...L...Listen, I saw what happened.....Why didn't you tell Heidegger what happened??...I mean, that you were stopping Landon from hurting me? I'm sure he--"

"I wasn't," he interrupted. "I hated Landon."

"....Oh." Wow, was not expecting that answer. I was taken completely off guard and was left to clumsily try and redirect my thoughts like a moron. Yay Kyra. "...We....Well, still, you'd think that you'd get some brownie points for doing that...even if it was accidental." I forced a fake sounding laugh. Ye-ah, definitely just sounded like one of the Three Stooges there. Jesus. "...Um...cuz who knows what crap Landon could've done if....you hadn't...stepped in."

"...I told you, I was looking for an opportunity to kick Landon's ass," he answered indifferently. "It could've been anyone."

"But the point is, it was me," I insisted, taking a step forward but immediately stopping. "It was me that you saved, even if it wasn't on purpose, even if it didn't matter to you--it meant something to me. And...and I feel guilty that you're being punished and lectured because of it while I get off with nothing."

"You didn't get off with nothing," he told me. "You've got that bruise on your face."

"Wh--" My hand instinctively went to my injured cheek, which I had almost entirely forgotten about but which emitted a very real burn as soon as I touched it. "...what, this?? This is nothing, give me a break."

"No, it's not," he replied. "You keep it hidden under your hair so it doesn't make anyone worry."

I sat silently, gaping blankly up at him as a uneasy shudder slid one icy finger down the length of my spine...............Um, whoa. What exactly do you say to that? "...N...no...." I stuttered uncomfortablely, clenching my free hand into a fist behind my back. My gaze suddenly fell to the floor, casting several strands of brunette hair across my flaming complexion. A cold silence filled the room.

He was the one that decided to break it. "...Listen, I have to go," he told me, turning the knob and pushing it open, releasing a harsh blast of wind and icy droplets of rain into the closet. "If I don't, I'll never get back in time to shut that bastard up."

"...Wa--Here, I'll come with you!!" I piped up quickly, snapping out of my trance and pulling another baggy sweatshirt off of one of the nails in the wall. "It's only fair--I should be the one running, not you."

"I've got three laps around the city to run," he informed me, though he looked slightly taken aback by my actions. "You'll never make it. Heidegger's a bastard."

"I'll keep up, I swear!!" I persisted, though my voice was muffled by the fact that I was trying to yank the shirt over my head. I finally managed to escape the choking collar and tie the drawstrings about my throat. "I won't be in the way! I just need to do this for my own peace of mind, ok??"

He stared down at me, crystalline droplets of rain clinging to the silver bangs lining his face, then exhaled a short breath, shrugged his shoulders, and murmured a quick, "Suit yourself." before turning about and jogging out into the rain. I was sure to notice, however, that even after he had exited the closet he was sure to hold the door until I followed.