Author's Note: It's a new month! I don't have much to say besides, only to thank you one and all for enjoying Thawing Permafrost so far. It's been an absolute blast, and seeing so many people write in recognising it from its older iterations is both surreal, and heartwarming.
As always, please review if you have something to say, something you think can be improved! I'm always looking to hone my craft, and your help is invaluable.
I hope you enjoy!
He felt the cold, writhing dark.
Ikko opened his eyes, seeing nothing, feeling everything. The world crawled over his skin. Grasped at his insides. Pulled him open, tore him apart. Squeezed him 'till viscera popped from his flesh like someone squeezing a sealed sachet, and he felt it. Felt the fragility of his human shell bursting and popping, eyes bouncing from their sockets, bones ground into dust. He screamed and that, too, invited the dark into him, crushing agony into silence.
He retched, lurched – and a fresh pain wracked his body. His eyes filled with light. A great weight smothered his body, but this warmed and swaddled him. Ikko stared up into the blank ceiling, breath heavy, laboured, brow dewed with icy sweat. "Shh…" crooned a voice. Something took his hand.
"Whuh- whah," he panted, incoherent. Every breath hurt, stabbing at his lungs, "Whu-oh, oh god…"
"Ikko- Ikko, look at me. Look at me." The warmth around his hand grew familiar as he turned towards the noise. Ruby's smile waned, run ragged with worry. "Look at me. That's it – there you are. I need you to calm down. Nice and easy…"
"Ruby," he wanted to squeeze her hand, to crush it, to hold fast to that single anchor of sanity, but every inch of him ached, "Ruby, Kia – where's Kia, what-"
A thousand questions flickered and spat from his mouth, but soon even that hurt him. He groaned, squirming under the covers. "Ikko- Ikko, look at me! Focus on me, come on…"
He brought his eyes back to her. "Breathe, now. In… out…" She timed her words, and with Ruby's guidance his panting even out, bringing clarity, calm, and whilst a thousand needles still priced at his lungs, he could focus on something besides the ache of his body.
"Where- where am I?" asked he, when Ruby became convinced enough of his calm to not direct his gaze back to her whenever it faltered. He lay on a long, wide bed fitted with clean linens. A single, harsh halogen lamp illumined the room, save for a square of light that pierced the frosted glass square cut into the door. In the far corner, a chair sat empty.
"You're at the hospital. Yokai operates a private facility for campus incidents." Ruby explained, stroking her thumb over his hand. Like her instructions, the rhythm grounded him, kept him from floating away into the mists of his pain. "What do you remember?"
"I remember…" Ikko trailed off. His mind flashed through the cliffside attack. He remembered Kotsubo. Remembered the monster. Remembered- "Where's Kia? Is she alright?"
"She's fine. Mizore, too – we got there just in time to protect her, but you…"
"Mizore…" Ikko took a moment, sucking a harsh breath as the pain flared. "Her scrapbook. He delivered it to me, he-he forged a note-"
"It's okay, Ikko. It's over."
"But Kotsubo-"
"Is being dealt with." The bed shifted slightly as Ruby lifted from her seat to perch on the bedside. She smiled down at him. "No-one's in trouble except him."
Ikko stared at her, his wild eyes eventually steadying alongside his breath. He took another sharp breath as pain shot through his chest. "Gh… What did he do to me?"
"Crushed you," Ruby whispered, "I healed the worst of the damage with my magic, but you're still in a bad way. The balm'll help you heal faster, but there's only so much I can do…"
"Balm?"
"You're wrapped in bandages with a witch's balm soaking into your wounds. It helps your body heal – and heal right. Magic fixes things quickly, but if a broken bone sets wrong…"
Ikko shifted. Sure enough, he felt something warm and slimy shift under the cover. "Don't move too much," she warned, "It might itch and it might sting, but if you disturb the process I'll have to start all over."
"Sorry…" he mumbled, staring straight up. "How long was I out?"
"Just under a day. Do you need anything? Are you hungry?"
"Hungry?" Ikko closed his eyes. "I should eat, huh…"
"You should – but don't force it."
"Okay. I'll, uh…" he thought back to the cliffside. He hadn't seen Mizore there, but he remembered a piercing cold. Had that been her? "Where is she? Mizore?"
Ruby checked her phone. "It's pretty late. She should be in her room."
"Can I see her?" From the look in his eyes, Ruby didn't want to say no. She smiled, sighing.
"If she's awake, I'll get her to bring you something. Sound good?"
Ikko nodded, and Ruby excused herself to go find Mizore. He heard the lock click, sealing him in the room – and keeping the rest of that monstrous world away.
He watched the ceiling. The lack of company, the inability to move, the constant ache of his body – all became painfully apparent after mere moments. He itched but could not scratch. Hurt, but could not heal. Boredom gnawed at the back of his mind, but he couldn't talk to someone, nor could he play a game. He tried to focus on the noises outside, but with a locked door and a closed window, only the faintest, muffled songs of life struggled to entertain him. Ikko made noises of his own, hummed and murmured, digested the ordeal he'd suffered, but soon even those descended into frustrated huffs and stifled complaints.
A sigh exploded from him, and even that hurt! He swore under his breath. "Easy, son," replied a voice from the corner of the room. Ikko's heart stopped, "Hospitals – they're not fun, are they?"
"Who's there?" He struggled to angle himself in such a way that he could find the voice. A shadow rose from the corner chair, chortling. A robed shadow. A monkish shadow.
No, wait. It was actually a monk. Mikogami, specifically, and he waved with his typical cowl-shaded smirk. "Evening, Akada. How do you fare?"
"Headmaster!" Ikko exclaimed. "Sorry, I didn't realise you were here."
"Relax. I only just arrived."
Strange. Had he passed out? Ikko blinked. "S-sir?"
"Two days," Mikogami didn't elucidate "Well, three. If you count the day you've spent unconscious. Three days…" He advanced on the bed, placing a shrouded hand on the plastic frame by his feet. "And already the world of monsters visits its savagery upon you. How do you feel?"
"I'm in tremendous amounts of pain." Ikko grumbled. Then, as an afterthought. "Sir."
"I'd expect so," Mikogami chuckled, "Being set upon by a kraken cannot be a comfortable experience. I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. Ah, but you may rest assured than Kotsubo's, shall we say, his misdemeanour, has been resolved appropriately…"
Could they just call it assault? Ikko decided not to fight the point. Ruby had told him to keep calm, so he listened as Mikogami went on. "Such is the world you live in, now. Instinct, emotions… broken hearts, personal grudges, old feuds, and feelings of more primal and simple natures… all are amplified in the world of monsters. Humans may get angry, may hiss and spit and fight and kill, but we are of crueller stock. Far crueller. Oh, the ways we can wound and maim… I daresay the human world would be quite covetous of our abilities."
Ikko forced a slower breath. Mikogami's smile coiled. "Does that trouble you, Akada?"
"It…" he gulped. "It terrified me, sir. Still does. The thought of- of Kia. Of Kotsubo, what they're like, what they can do… it's nightmarish. But…"
"But?" Mikogami asked, with a tone of genuine surprise.
He groaned, forcing himself to sit up. "Kia- she broke up with her boyfriend. Her heart's breaking, her friends are gone; but she took all the time in the world to show me around Preternatural Street. She helped me find my classes… she showed me her favourite café. I've never done that before. Never sat down with a friend for, for coffee. For fun."
"The same Kia tried to gorge herself on your guts mere hours after meeting you."
"She did!" Ikko agreed, "She did – and it's weird. It should stop me from hanging out with her. I should be running scared at the sight of her, but I'm… not? Like you said, it's her instinct, isn't it? It's not Kia, it's a thing she was born with. Like my eyes. Like Mizore – Miss Shirayuki's – hair. It's part of her, but it's not her, if that makes sense. Does that make sense?"
Mikogami folded his arms, weighing the youth's words. "In its own woefully naïve way – yes. But you understand, surely, that accepting that part of her won't stop it from killing you."
"But she'll stop." Ikko nodded, certain. "She stopped herself. She can do that. I trust her to."
"I'm struggling to decide whether your optimism is refreshing or concerning." Mikogami quipped, chortling. "I suppose I know the answer to my next question, then."
He considered the monk, wincing a little as he shifted into a proper seat. "If you're going to ask me if I want to go home, then yes. You do, sir."
"Because you can't?" he asked, "Miss Shirayuki advised me of your parents' decision. I'm sure something could be arranged, if you so wished."
"Because I-" Ikko took a breath. He tried to find a smile, clumsy and stricken with discomfort. "Maybe, yeah. I thought it was because I can't. Now, though… now I think I want to stay. They've all been so good to me, I- I won't turn my back on that."
They shared a long, hard look at one another. Mikogami broke the silence with a clap of his hands. "Excellent! I rather hoped you'd find some resolve. Lingering out of inconvenient circumstance would surely spell your demise. I shall finalise your paperwork and secure your attendance."
"Thank you, sir," Ikko relaxed. Though his words lifted a weight from his chest, it did not heal him, "I hope this balm kicks in…"
"Patience, Akada. The best remedies take time. Is there aught else you require?"
"No, sir. I think I'll be okay."
"Then I take my leave. Good evening." Fully expecting the monk to melt back into the dark, Ikko suppressed his exclamation when he used the door, expressing surprise at whomever he bumped into. "Ah! My apologies, I was just leaving…"
He closed his eyes, trying to pick out the other voice in the conversation, but the closing door reduced all to a murmur. Fate answered his curiosity when Mizore poked her head in, bemused. "Can I come in?"
"Y-yeah, sure."
She waited until the door closed behind her, holding paper cups in either hand. "What did the headmaster want so late?"
"I think he wanted to test me." Ikko winced, peeling the cover back. He finally saw the bandages – a full reel, maybe two, binding most of his chest, arms, and stomach.
"Test you?"
"Yeah, like… make sure I'm still committed to staying."
"Oh." Mizore didn't shift from the door. "And?"
"Huh?"
"Are you?"
"Oh. Yeah. Yeah, I'm staying. Because I want to, that is – not because I have to."
As if waiting for that confirmation, Mizore pushed from the door and wandered over to the bed. He'd seen her in shirts and plain trousers – office clothes, professional attire – but now she wore a simple off-the-shoulder tee and jeans. "Sorry I took so long. Had to find clothes, then find a place open for a drink – milkshake alright?"
"Where'd you find a milkshake?"
"There's a place on Preternatural that does 'em. They're open late for the third-years and staff."
"How late is late?"
Mizore guessed. "Eleven? Almost midnight? My phone's in my pocket. Well past curfew."
"Good thing I'm in hospital."
"Not really; visiting hours ended ages ago. Nurses're making an exception 'cuz you just woke up." Mizore sat at the edge of the bed, an arm's length away. She offered the milkshake, holding it tight until Ikko's trembling hands found purchase. "How're you feeling?"
"Tired." Ikko gingerly lifted the straw to his lips. He hadn't realised how dry his throat was, and suffered the icy bite of creamy chocolate with a grimace.
"You don't like it?"
"No-" he spluttered, "No-"
"I got vanilla-"
"It's fine!" He coughed, groaning, "It's good. Cold - cold hurts."
She softened. "It is a milkshake."
His coughing persisted, causing fresh jolts of pain as his body jerked and snapped in ways mending bones couldn't handle. "Hey, hey…" Mizore hastened to shuffled closer, placing a frigid palm on his bandaged chest. "Take it easy. Breathe…"
"You sound like Ruby." Ikko moaned, leaning back against the pillow. He felt the warmth of his chest seep into her hand, melting her touch into something more comfortable.
"She told me what to expect. I've never played nurse or healer before."
"Nurse Shirayuki." His grin strained, battling past his grimace.
"Just Mizore, thank you very much. Don't push it."
Silence's pall draped over them, as Ikko once more tried to calm his breathing, find a position that didn't antagonize his injuries. "Never been in a hospital before…" he murmured.
"Really?"
"Never needed one. Never broken a bone, never been that ill…"
"Pretty crappy way to break the streak, huh." Mizore lifted her hand from his chest, closing her fingers about her milkshake. She took a long draw, closing her eyes. "I owe you an apology, Ikko."
"Why?"
"Kotsubo's my fault," she began, hair falling in a thick, glacial curtain between the two, "I made one stupid mistake when I was younger, and he's never let me forget it. Even after all this time, even after his- his damned apology. Then you came along- and I always did love a snowflake… I guess he saw his chance to get revenge."
Ikko listened but didn't quite hear her words. He heard Kotsubo's readily enough, heard the spite and the venom that plagued her, dragged her down, coiled her fingers so tight about her drink that the paper started to buckle. "Mizore," he croaked, trying another sip of milkshake. It hurt slightly less. "Mizore…"
"What?" She didn't lift her head.
"It's not your fault. I mean – Kotsubo could have left well enough alone, but he didn't. That's… that's on him, not you." He tried a smile that she couldn't see. "You saved my life. You don't need to apologise – I need to thank you. So, uh. Thanks."
Her head lifted, pushing back the curtain with a quick sniff and a brush of her wrist against her face. She smiled, eyes wet but calming. "Anytime."
Ikko nodded – then, remembering what started all this, asked, "Your scrapbook. What happened to it?"
"My- why does that matter?"
"It's important, isn't it?"
Mizore's shook her head. "You had it on you when he grabbed you. It fared slightly worse than you did."
"Slightly worse than every bone in my body broken?"
"It's not every bone. But yes. It… well. It's scraps. No book. Just scraps."
Ikko gulped. "I'm- I'm sorry. I didn't, I shouldn'tve-"
She raised her hand. "Not your fault," she whispered, "This is on him. Besides!" Her voice pitched up, though her exhale betrayed the effort such energy took. "That's all in the past, that mess. My school days can stay between us."
"Between us?"
"You read it, didn't you?" Mizore assumed. Her brow flicked when she saw Ikko shaking his head. "You didn't?"
"Why would I? It's your scrapbook. You – I mean Kotsubo, and his note – said you wanted to explain everything. I wanted to hear it from you."
She stared at him, wide-eyed. "What's on the first page?"
"Mizore-"
"Tell me what's on the first page!"
"Mizore!" Ikko coughed, clutching his stomach. "I didn't! I promise."
"You swear?"
"I'm starting to regret not reading it – but yes, I swear. I did not read your scrapbook. Would you read my diary if it turned up on your doorstep?"
She answered with by pinching an alabaster thumb and forefinger together. Ikko sighed. "I didn't. I'm curious – definitely curious, given your grilling – but I didn't."
Mizore nodded, understanding. Then, after a moment. "Not even a peek?"
"Oh my god- no! Not even a peek. Trust me, Mizore. We're friends, aren't we?"
Mizore opened her mouth, but no answer came. She latched onto her milkshake, abandoning Ikko to the quiet. "Aren't we?" he repeated.
"We are," she began, "It's been a rocky start. I've been- I've not had a great couple of days."
Ikko gestured to himself. "And I have?"
"That's not the point. My point is…" Mizore inhaled. "You've not had a fair shake from me. I got you dragged into this mess when I'm supposed to be keeping you safe. I don't know how Ruby does it…"
"Does what?"
"This!" She gestured between them. "Work and- and friends. I'm just about scraping by with my teaching, and on my first day the headmaster dumps this at my feet. No offense."
"None… taken?"
"I mean the situation. Not you."
"Right."
"So," Mizore paused to collect herself over a sip. "So…"
"So…?" Ikko tilted his head.
"So… I don't know! I don't know where I'm going with this. It's all very new. Teaching. Transfers." Mizore stuttered, again finding the right words, or admitting something to herself. Either way, it came forced, discomfited. "Friends."
"No kidding," replied Ikko, frowning. "Maybe… I-I mean, if you want."
"Maybe…?"
Ikko puffed his cheeks out, taking each word as they arrived, shaping them with all the clumsy care he could manage. "Maybe we learn together?"
"Learn?"
"I mean – be friends. Figure… stuff out." Ikko mumbled. "Y'know. I'm a human new to a school of monsters. You're a… teacher. New to a school of, er. Students. Monster students. So we figure it out. How does that sound?"
She laughed quietly, shuffling a little closer. "It sounds like you still need to work on your words – but I get what you mean. Friends."
"Cut me some slack. I just had every bone in my body crushed."
"Not every-"
"Okay it feels like every bone. I've never broken one before, how am I supposed to know?"
They shared in their mirth. "Scoot," Mizore ordered, turning to sit properly with him. Ikko scooted to the absolute best of his crippled abilities, sure that Ruby would chide him for disturbing the balm so.
He didn't care. Mizore's cooling, soothing presence fought the oppressive warmth of the hospital bed; and she'd brought milkshakes! Having survived its initial bite, Ikko realised just how hungry so much sleep made a man. Neither shake survived the hour of comfortable, slurping silence.
"Your phone broke." Mizore announced, all of a sudden. "I just remembered."
"Aw- what? Really?"
"My scrapbook fared worse than your body." She nodded, "Your phone fared worse than my book."
Had she provided milkshakes and emotional connections to soften the blow of all that lost progress? Probably not, but it didn't work however he span it. "My games…"
"That's what you care about?"
"What else would I have on my phone?"
Mizore's eyes found his, flabbergasted. "Right. What else. Of course. The Academy's gonna cover the damages, given Kotsubo's antics were done on the payroll, so to speak."
"What's going to happen to him?"
"He'll be tried for assault, banished from the academy, and that'll be that."
"No jail?"
"The human world's as harsh a prison as you can get, Ikko." Mizore explained. "For monsters, it's every bit as scary and cruel as ours is to you."
He remembered home, peaceful, dull, empty, and couldn't help but wonder how that would inspire dread, fear, or even mild discomfort beyond crushing boredom. "Huh…"
"Point is, he's done for. Dealt with. Out of my life."
"Good."
"Good," she concurred. Ikko stifled a yawn. "Tired?"
"Not really. S'late, but… I don't want to sleep."
"That's sugar talking. You need your rest – another day like this, and you'll be on your feet."
A crawling sensation gnawed at the back of his mind, spreading from the top of his spine to his chest, yanking at his heart. He blurted an incoherent noise as Mizore stood, cups collected.
She turned. "Excuse me?"
"I mean, uh…" Ikko fidgeted, staring at the linens. "I- before I woke, there was this… thing. A dream."
"A dream?" He nodded quickly. Though feeble, his grip creased the covers. Mizore sighed through her nose, hovering at the half-opened door. "You mean a nightmare? Of what?"
Ikko struggled to answer. They'd dealt with Kotsubo – to have his spectre haunt him now would surely be a victory for the twisted man. "It's okay," he said, rushing, "You've got work tomorrow, right? I'll be fine."
"No, no… I can stay. If a nurse finds me, though, I'm gone." She closed the door again, lingered by it to check the corridor beyond for any patrolling staff. "No more milkshakes, though. You're supposed to be sleeping."
"Right." Ikko released the breath he'd been holding. "Sorry."
"Don't be sorry. It's a strange hell you've been through," she assured, pulling up a chair to sit alongside him. Her eyes shimmered in the half-light, empathetic, warm. How did she understand? "Get some rest."
Ikko slipped and struggled back under the covers. With such heavy bindings and the warmth bleeding through the bandages – the balm, no doubt, working its magic – he soon found Mizore's troubled smile slipping from view. What clouded her still, he wondered, but not for too long. Dreamless sleep drew him away from such questions.
His curiosity, for once, could wait.
