The pallor girl's silver eyes were wide, her pupils dilated and her face wet from the running sink, as she gasped for air.
It's starting, oh god, that evil was bubbling inside her again, filling her with rage and the indiscriminate urge to maim, kill, and harass. Fujiko had spent two days trying to calm herself down—but between that damnable delicious scent and the cold and frankly hostile demeanor that Aiko had been shooting her since going back on her deal, it was not getting better at all. No, it's getting worse.
Why? How much did Aiko piss her off when she found out she broke the deal? Was it that bad? God, Fujiko couldn't get the thought of murdering and eating Aiko every time it drifted into her stressed mind. Come on, calm down, calm down before someone sees you like this—or worse. Good god, was she some sort of weird-ass psychopath that just goes through her psychopathy cycles every so often?
The pallor girl's eyes were turning into slits, her horns parting through her hair, her wings unfurling behind her and ripping through her sailor fuku, and her tail swishing back and forth amidst the waves of hatred coursing through her.
Damn it, she can't let anyone see or go near her like this! Thank god the girls' bathroom was empty now, Fujiko didn't want to think about what would've happened if she had run into someone here; everyone smelled too delicious right now and she had way too many damn close calls in the past to even consider holding this in. Come on, calm down, calm down, you're at your breaking point; try to take deep breaths and calm down … Damn it, it's still not working! Fujiko forced herself to breathe and exhale, breath and exhale. Alright, she's got time to blow some of this steam off. If only she could just cool it off by rinsing her face and taking deep breaths … Shit, why did she have to reach her breaking in school? Come on, dammit, calm down!
Fujiko gritted her teeth as she clamped down on her fist from punching the mirror, the sink, the wall—anywhere. "Come on, girl, calm the hell down…!"
Aiko and her friends' laughter echoed outside of the girl's restroom door.
Oh shit!
Fujiko threw herself into one of the stalls and locked it just as she heard the tell-tale signs of footsteps entering the bathroom. Stay quiet, stay quiet now, ignore them and under no circumstances do not go out or make yourself known. Even though all of them smelled so yummy right now…
"This is definitely going to be good payback for that bitch Fujiko for embarrassing me," Aiko chuckled. "I don't know how she did it, but she somehow convinced Ms. Tanegawa that not only she wasn't doing anything dangerous with those knives, she managed to paint me as a liar!"
Fujiko perked up. Oh shit, Aiko was planning to get back at her. But how?
"But isn't Hanamura, like, doing something weird with them?" one of Aiko's friends said.
Aiko scoffed. "Honestly, I thought so too. Apparently, she likes to pretend to be a samurai and play with them! Damn, I never knew Fujiko was that hella cringe, am I right?"
The other clique members start laughing. "Yeah, Hanamura's cringe!"
"Yeah! If she were actually hurting herself, that's one thing, but she's playing make-believe with an actual knife? She's like a kid, my god!"
Aiko began shushing the others. "Okay, okay, enough laughing! We don't know when Arataka gets here, we shouldn't act all suspicious."
Fujiko blinked. Wait, Miho? What do they want with her?
Then the restroom door swung open and closed, and Miho's voice rang out. "Alright, Fujioka," she sighed. "What is it that you want to share with me?"
Fujiko's heart stopped.
"Oh, it won't take too much of your time. It's about your friend you like hanging around with."
"You mean Fujiko? What's this gotta do with her?"
"Whoa, relax, we ain't done nothin' with your girlfriend if that's what you're thinking."
Miho stuttered. "W-What are you getting at, Fujioka?"
"Now now Arataka," Aiko said. "I'm not insinuating anything, right girls?"
"Yeah, don't be so rude to her!" one of them said.
Another piped up. "Aiko's just trying to help ya' out!"
"She always looks after her friends!"
"Oh my god," Miho sighed. "Listen, I don't think any of y'all are really looking to help me out here. An enemy of Fujiko is no friend of mine."
"Arataka, listen," Aiko said. "There's something you need to know about Fujiko."
"Yeah, like what?"
Aiko smiled. "Well, in the time that I've known dear friend Fujiko, she's, well, got quirks that are, shall we say, not the kind that ought to be shared in public. They're the sort of thing that's disturbing."
Fujiko, doing her damnedest to not even breath loudly in the stall, felt her heart freezing even more.
"What? Shut up Fujioka, I know Fujiko! She's my best friend–"
"Do best friends hide things from each other?" Aiko said. "'Cause, uh, last I checked, they don't."
Miho growled. "You're one step away from getting reported by the teacher, Fujioka, so you better damn well get to the point or else."
"I know you're worried about her. I know, me too, especially as her housemate. But she's not what she seems to be, Arataka. Just wanna let you know about that because I've been there before."
There was hesitation underlying Miho's voice. "Y-You, you were a friend of hers…?"
"You could say that," Aiko said. "Now, I don't know. But one of the things that she does that I bet she doesn't tell you is that, how should I put it this way: every night, she has a habit of carrying a kitchen knife to her bedroom."
Fujiko's hands began sweating and fidgeting.
"W-What…?"
"Weird, right? I don't know what she does up there every night, but in the morning the blades always come out dull. Strange, huh?"
"S-She, she's probably just, well…"
"Did she ever tell you that?"
Fujiko, the urge to break down the door and kill Aiko twisting and wrangling within her, tried to look away from the door lock.
"N-No, no. H-How do you know that?"
"Honestly, she's not very quiet about it if I'm gonna be honest," Aiko sighed.
"W-Well, it doesn't matter! She's just probably going through a hard time right now—what gives you the right to disparage her when she needs help?"
Fujiko's heart began beating loudly in her head when Miho said that. Good, don't listen to that asshole's lies!
"I'm just saying. Would you really go for someone who cuts herself like that, with a kitchen knife? She's probably not mentally stable, you know. I'm just trying to look out for you, 'cause it'd be a shame if something happened to you while you're hanging out with dear ole' Fujiko."
"You know nothing about Fujiko," Miho growled. "If you keep talking like that…"
"Obviously I don't know everything, but I do know enough about the important bits. It's up to you whether you want to listen to me or not, now; I've said my piece, lover girl."
"Why do you care if I like Fujiko like that?!" Miho screamed. "It's none of your damn business, bitch!"
"Whoa, did I hit a nerve there?" Aiko said, multiple footsteps echoing. "I never said you're into Fujiko now, did I? I didn't realize you like her that way, that's so cute. Though I suppose it doesn't really change my advice, Arataka. After all, I guess even a boyfriend-less loser like you would go for a mentally-unstable freak."
Fists slapped skin and shoes squeaked as Miho and Aiko grunted and yelled, someone running out of the restroom while Aiko's other friends yelled at them to stop in the fakest, most insincere tones ever heard.
Fujiko was frozen. Miho liked her too? All this time, she thought Miho only liked boys—but she also likes girls, and she likes Fujiko that way?
A crunch echoed out and Miho screamed, her knees slapping the floor.
Terror and fury shot through Fujiko as it broke her limit and dragged her out of the stall to stare down the bitch Aiko.
Aiko stood in front of Miho, who had collapsed on her knees holding one side of her ribcage with tears dripping from her shut eyes. Aiko and her clique gasped.
Keep it together, keep it together, dammit! But Fujiko's last vestiges of her self-control slipped away. "Leave," Fujiko growled. "Leave Miho a-alone, Fujioka—or else."
Freya frowned as she turned to see her mother, Aunt Sif, and Uncle Erik standing before her. They were the Elders of the Skalid Clan, the most respected and senior of them all and the ones who directed the clan's affairs. They never suspected Einar when he delivered them his military treatises and theses and convinced them to rebuild the Armed Forces of the Throne from the ground up—even when they found out he had been crossing into the human world under everyone's noses.
"Yeah, just having a chat with little bro here," Freya said, glancing at the grave. "I was just about to leave."
Erik stepped in front of her. "You can't keep visiting this part of the cemetery, Freya. It's unhallowed ground, meant only for the dishonored—which now includes Einar, I'm afraid."
"Even after all he's done for the Throne and the Skalid Clan?" Freya huffed.
Liv frowned. "Dear, as it pains me to say it, we cannot let Einar's crimes go unpunished. King Delkira's restrictions against crossing into the human world are still in effect."
Freya scowled. "All he's done is cross into the human world. I never understood why the Demon King had done that; it wasn't as if we demons were making regular trips to the human world in the Old Days anyway, you all know that."
"It is His will, niece," Sif said, returning a scowl of her own. "You and Einar had always been the ones acting out. I knew that someday his acting out would've gotten him in trouble, and I was right. You ought to stop too, when you have the chance—especially since the Greats have entrusted you to command all of His Armed Forces."
"Save your concern, Aunt. I'm not stupid."
"Freya, we know what he has done for us and the Demon King has brought positive change to all," Erik said. "We have not forgotten that. But he broke the law in doing so, and that alone brings dishonor to our name. Do you not hear the rumors that Einar had invited in the last fifteen years? They speak as if we had grown soft! What he brought from the human world may have been his life's work and the greatest achievement of the Skalid Clan—I just wish he didn't have to tarnish our name in the process, too!"
Freya blinked, eyes wide. "Wait, how'd you know that?"
"We may be old, but we are wise, dear," Liv said, smiling. "Of course we know that your brother had brought the knowledge of human warfare back and applied it to the Armed Forces of the Throne. Did you forget that we are all Skalids?"
Freya pursed her lips. "Well, I guess I shouldn't be surprised—you all are just too old-fashioned, sometimes."
"Let it go, Freya," Sif said. "Whatever Einar's crimes or achievements, he has gone with the Devil. Only They may judge him alone."
Freya narrowed her eyes. "Sorry Aunt Sif, I don't think so. He's alive, I'm sure of it."
"How can you be so sure, dear?" Liv said, surprised. "You saw the wreckage of the Ronove's Pride: all hands were lost that day! No one had possibly survived that inferno!"
"Einar can. I know him too well that a crash like that wouldn't phase him. I don't believe he's dead."
"Then where do you think he might be, niece?"
Freya turned to Ogre Lake. "If I had to guess, maybe the human world again."
The Elders gasped. Sif shook her head. "Impossible. That would bring even more dishonor and shame onto our clan if that were true!"
"Shame this, dishonor that," Freya scoffed, turning to them with a glare. "Who the hell cares? Let the Devil sort out those who think of us like that! We've stood for more than one thousand and five hundred years! A reputation hit has never and won't ever hurt us, Elders, for we are Skalids!"
Sif and Erik sighed. Liv frowned.
"If there's even a slight chance that my brother is alive out there, I'll take it," Freya huffed as she began walking away. "If I have to go to the human world to bring him back, then, Devil willing, I will."
Erik gasped. "F-Freya, you can't be serious!"
"Dear, I know how you feel about Einar, but we can't go against King Delkira's law like that if it were true! You may not like it, but how the other demons think of the Skalids does matter!"
"You dare break His law and bring dishonor to our name, too?!" Sif yelled.
Freya stopped and glared at Sif, but she turned away and left without another word. Of course, she had no intention of breaking His law, but if Einar was still out there, if there was a chance…
What good is law if it stops you from reuniting with your loved ones?
Miho looked up and gasped. "F-Fujiko!"
Aiko scowled as she turned to her, the others still parroting their fake concern. "Damn Fujiko, wasn't expecting you to pop up! So you heard everything, huh?"
Fujiko's hands clenched into fists as her slitted pupils dilated. "I'm, I'm warning. Leave now, b-before, before I hurt you. Don't do this."
"As if," Aiko scoffed, crossing her arms. "This is payback for embarrassing me in front of Ms. Tanegawa. I don't like it when people make me look like an idiot, least of all you. Oh, and your algebra and geometry skills are shit anyway, I should've dropped you the first week."
"You're gonna regret it," Fujiko growled, trying to stay her arms from shooting out at her. "Get out of here, now."
Aiko sneered. "I'm not scared of you, bitch!" She struck Fujiko's cheek and adopted a scared look as she made another swing. "Hey hey hey, don't hit me, why are you trying to–"
The next punch didn't even land.
Fujiko caught Aiko's fist and twisted it into an unnatural pose with a crack that deafened the restroom.
Aiko screamed as she held her upside-down hand, the wrist bulging, as she gritted her teeth and collapsed on her knees.
One of her friends gasped. "H-Holy shit! Her hand…!"
Aiko growled and looked up at Fujiko, shooting her with a glare that burned with hatred. With her unbroken hand, she slipped into her purse, produced a pocket knife, and flicked it open.
"H-Hey, Aiko, what are you doing?" one of her friends stammered, her eyes widening.
The other friend whimpered. "A-Aiko, don't do anything we'll all regret! Please put that knife down!"
"Shut the fuck up!" Aiko screamed. "I'm gutting this whore!"
Flicking the knife, Aiko shot up and charged at Fujiko.
Fujiko stepped to the side, snatched Aiko's wrist, twisted it away, and seized her throat. She lifted her up from her feet and stared into her face.
Aiko choked and gasped, squeezing and bashing Fujiko's wrist as her pocket knife clattered. Gasps began filling the room as a larger shadow began looming from Fujiko. Miho stood up between the rest of Aiko's clique and watched with horror in their eyes.
"F-Fujiko?" Miho murmured.
Brown horns poked out of Fujiko's bangs, leather wings tearing out of the back of her sailor fuku and a heart-shaped tail poking out from the rear of her skirt. Her gaze was slitted and had a silvery glow as a sinister and suffocating aura infested the restroom.
Fujiko's hands began trembling. "I can't, I, I can't," she choked. "I can't hold it back! Help me!"
Aiko stared at Fujiko. "W-What are you? Hey, what are you doing? Fujiko, t-this isn't funny anymore. Are listening to me? Hey, stop it! Stop it!"
A scream tore out of Aiko's throat.
Fujiko's fangs sunk into her shoulder, scraping against bone, as the sweet and decadent taste of blood delighted her tongue. It was so delicious that the shock of it all snapped Fujiko out of it and she dropped Aiko, pulling out her bloodstained teeth. She threw her back against the wall, gasping and wiping her lips of that damned blood as it all finally settled in. Fujiko touched her fangs—fangs? How?—and saw deep-red staining her finger.
The evil within her was fading away. Her self-control began returning to her as if she had never lost it in the first place, her hatred, murderous intent, and malice all washing away from her and in its place what made Fujiko Fujiko. She rose and looked at herself in the mirror.
Oh no.
Disappear, disappear!
The pallor girl appeared again, though her mouth and sailor fuku were stained deep with blood. But it was too late.
Fujiko turned to Miho, Aiko—who was now at the back, sobbing and holding her bleeding shoulder, and the clique. No, no no no…
They all flinched from her gaze.
"M-Miho," Fujiko whispered, her voice cracking. "I, I need you to listen to me–"
"Stay away from us," Miho choked as tears glinted in her eyes. "Fujiko, stay right there."
Fujiko froze. "Miho, wait, I-I didn't for this t-to happen–"
Aiko's friend screamed. "Monster! Help, someone! Please!"
Another hyperventilated as she trembled. "Call the police, call the goddamn police for god's sakes!"
Aiko whimpered, her tear-stained face contorting in agony, as she clamped on her bleeding shoulder. "Oh my god, it hurts, it hurts so much…"
Miho turned to Aiko's clique. "Get her to the infirmary, now!"
Aiko's friends evacuated Aiko out of the restroom and Miho, seizing the pocket knife, stood within the doorway and raised it towards Fujiko.
Fujiko's heart stopped. "Miho, d-did, is Aiko okay? Did I hurt her bad? Is she gonna be okay…?" She gingerly walked toward Miho as if she were about fall through a floor of glass. "Hey, talk to me! Is she going to be alright?"
Miho did not answer as she backed away, fear and pain on her face.
They found themselves out of the restroom and in the center of a curious and tense crowd, who had all heard the screaming and yelling from before. Gasps arose when they saw a knife in Miho's hands—and a profuse amount of blood none of them had ever seen in their lives, staining Fujiko's chest and mouth. Some of them took out their smartphones and started recording.
"Miho, w-why do you have that knife?" Fujiko said, looking at it. "Listen, we need to talk–"
"T-Take one more step and I'll kill you," Miho spat.
The crowd gasped and murmured.
Fujiko froze, her heart thumping, and the air caught in her throat—the terror of her new reality and what had just transpired in the aftermath now hitting her. She choked, tears streaming down her pallor cheeks. "Wait, Miho, please, this was all an accident, I swear, I didn't mean to–"
The words found themselves stuck in Fujiko's throat as she stood in front of Miho. Her left shoulder grew wet and burned; she glanced and saw the pocket knife had dug in.
Miho pulled and swung.
Fujiko's wings unfurled themselves and propelled her away.
Screams and yells erupted as some ran off, either to fetch the teachers or leave the premises, while others dialed for the police.
Fujiko landed on her feet, stunned, the scream in her throat also stuck. Disappear.
The bloodstained knife clattered on the floor as Miho, collapsing onto her knees, stared into her trembling hands, her breaths quickening and tears falling into the little streams of blood on her palms.
Grasping her bleeding shoulder, Fujiko turned and sprinted as a commotion of panicking students and yelling teachers filled the hallway.
