Trigger Warning: This is the chapter that features Shiho's attempted suicide. I know this is technically a spoiler, but considering the subject matter, I'd rather be upfront than glib about it.
4/14 After Midnight
I dipped my hands into the water again, straining my gloves. Blood seeped into the foaming liquid, turning it into a dull brown-red mixture. I pulled them out, wringing them of the excess red-tinted water and giving them a shake to dry them off. Looking at them, I was satisfied enough with the work, the only traces of red left being on the knuckles of my left glove. The difficulties of having a mostly white outfit. I walked up from the seawall and laid them on top of a grill over a metal barrel to let the dry off, then went back down on the edge of the seawall I had traveled to and sat down. The waves lapped at the edge, the sounds of crashing water helping my mind slow down.
Even now I could still feel the shocks of impact as I beat Kamoshida. The sound of his bones and skin breaking against that medal he so proudly displayed in his living room. The way his limbs bent in inhuman directions as I wrecked them over my own. How his fingers splintered into mush in my grip. And all the other things I did to him... I can count on one hand the number of times I'd gone that far against someone.
Footsteps dragging to the rail, cloth dragging behind. He gets on and jumps, neck snapping soon after. I can hear the mechanisms of my lenses narrow at the intrusive memory. I bring a hand to my head, shaking it to clear the images from my mind, massaging my stressed temples. Despite knowing what he did, I couldn't help the more sympathetic part of myself feel as though I had gone too far.
'Then what exactly were you planning to do as an alternative?' I interrogated myself, two parts of my mind going into a diatribe against each other.
I could have given him a warning. 'He wouldn't have listened.' I could have exposed him. 'He was too entrenched in Shujin's popularity for that to be viable.' I could have called the- 'Don't even finish that sentence.' I could have done something. 'You just did.' Then why do I feel so unsure about it? '...'
The past couple of days flash through my mind. Discovering Kamoshida, uncovering the extent of his abuse, all of my interrupted attempts to stop him. I felt skin constricting against my hand even though there was nothing there, the scared eyes of a man twice my age in my grip staring back at me.
It was the same as then. I was angry. Angry at feeling so useless, not doing anything to stop him for so long. I let the frustration that had built up for three days boil over when I finally got to him, and the result was back in their apartment, missing practically all of his teeth and the ability to walk.
'You did the right thing. He won't hurt anyone else ever again.' I should have done it sooner. I can feel something wrong with my hands, so I bring them up as I look down at them. They're shaking. There's still a tint of red on them.
I tell myself it's guilt.
I get up and walk back to my now dry gloves, the questions ringing in my mind as I do so. After putting them back on, sliding my thumbs through the hole in my sleeves, I open a compartment and grab a handful of yen, leaving it next to the homeless person whose makeshift fireplace I had commandeered.
"Thank you." He nods at my electronic voice, his confused expression breaking through the unkempt beard and filth. "There's a shelter in Minato ward. They'll help you." I turn away and shoot into the sky, firing off a web line and start to swing through the city in seconds.
The wind buffeted against my body, washing over every part of me as I cut a swath through the air with every swing I made. I'd descend, gripping the web line and pulling it down to make it more taught as I climbed back up during the arc. After reaching the most opportune point, I'd shoot my legs out, letting go of the line and shooting across the skyline at speeds that would make most people pass out.
It was honestly the most freeing part of my life that I could indulge in. Really, the only thing I could indulge in. Soaring across the buildings of Tokyo, particularly during night; a cascade of zooming lights of varying colors of neon and beige, the winds carrying the scents of the city from pleasant to suffocating, all the while cooling my sore and tired muscles.
Knife being pulled out; woman screaming, clutching boyfriend's arm.
Heroin going into bloodstream, slowing heartbeat. Will OD in ten minutes.
The lenses of my mask sharpened. Moments like these never last.
Taking care of problems as they appeared was an easy enough affair. I swung by the alley where the mugging was taking place, shooting a web line onto the perp's feet and stringing him up on a streetlight for the police to grab. I called an ambulance for the drug user, telling them the address and how fast they would need to be.
Another mugging here. A brawl in the streets there. A drug deal over there. It went on and on. And throughout all of it, I didn't hear any sort of sound nor whisper about another gun deal going down.
I perched myself on top of Cerulean Tower, welcoming the dim lights and solitude the building offered me on its highest ledge. Even from high up here, I could easily see the individual people on the street still out at this time of night. Taking a deep breath that sounded like an electronic grumble, I rested my aching wounds. In my rush to get to Kamoshida's apartment, I neglected to take off my old bandages. I still had yet to replace them, too focused on the task at hand. I slipped a hand under my clothes and ripped them off, bundling them into a ball with my webs, leaving the ones on my leg. I'd dispose of them when I'd get the chance.
I could spend all night bouncing between apprehending street scum and helping people in distress, but there were bigger problems in this city outside of Kamoshida. As such, I needed to adapt and evolve beyond just answering problems when they arose. If there was anything the past couple of days showed me more than two years as a vigilante did, it's that my current method was in need of an update.
So, with that in mind, I stood up. Letting myself enjoy the strong winds for a brief second, I spread my arms out and dove off the building, shooting out a web to my next destination.
4/14 Very Early Morning
A warehouse stood underneath my feet. I checked the time, reading as four in the morning. I grimaced. I had to travel back all the way to Arakawa ward, as this was where my former base of operations was. It was a mere skip away from San'ya. A return to home.
…. I walked to the roof access door, punching in the code to the electronic lock I made for it. There was one on every door that led into the place. It had been abandoned for years when I discovered it, which brought back horrifying memories of when I first discovered the place and all of the filth and refuse that had covered every inch of the derelict building.
The baths I took after every day of cleaning the place up was probably the closest to Heaven I'd ever get.
Hearing the lock disengage, I opened the roof access door and jumped down into the building. I had removed the upper access stairways in order to discourage anyone who might've been able to break the lock. Shooting a line onto the roof, I slowly descended onto the cold concrete floor, my eyes adjusting to the darkness as I reached the ground.
Despite all the work I'd done to this place over the one and a half years I used it, the warehouse was more akin to a workout and practice area than a crime lab, as would be useful to my current needs. There were stacks of concrete and discarded I-beams I used to exercise, destroyed sections of walls and materials for when I tested the true extent of my strength and weightlifting capabilities and finally, in the old office area of the place in the right corner, was an amateur work station that I used to create my suit and web shooters.
Ignoring the intrusive memories of days gone by, I shot a web onto the windowsill of the office and pulled myself towards it, crawling through and stepping into the slightly dusty work area. This was the first time I had been back here ever since my incarceration, so a fine coating of dust was over everything. I took a deep breath, this time oddly relishing the stink of it and the odor the building had when it hit my senses. There was a familiarity to it compared to all the other things that bombarded my abilities. Moving on from that, I took stock of the location.
All of my tools used for creating the web shooters and outfit were here. Soldering irons, welding kits, sewing machines and chemicals for web fluid. They were all neatly organized on the work bench, there being so little of them with what money I could spare at the time, all of them being the cheapest models and materials. I picked up a lone bottle, already knowing it was empty and looked to my left web shooter.
I had ten cartridges left on my person, with twelve back at Leblanc. They would last me a week, tops, if I was smart about how I used it. That and having to come all the way over here from Leblanc or Shujin and back and purchase the chemicals needed was an unnecessary time consumer. I'd need to find a new place to find items needed for my activities.
Breathing out a terse breath, I gathered what materials and tools were left and put them in a duffel bag I had left here. There was a thick layer of dust that was stuck in the fabric, nearly choking as I moved everything into it. After I was done with that, I went to every lock I had designed for the place and destroyed them, gathering the parts into an iron drum and setting them on fire. It didn't take long for the various wires and circuits to burn into nothing, after which I doused the barrel in water and activated the modified sprinkler system to cleanse the place in a chemical to wash away any evidence I was ever here.
A part of me felt that this was all too much, but that part of me was very rarely listened to. Besides, considering my run in with the police a few days ago, it likely wasn't enough in my opinion.
Walking away, I suddenly halted in my step and looked back to the decrepit warehouse. The consistent downpour of industrial cleaning solution drummed in my ears, the strong alcoholic smell making my nose scrunch up behind my masks. Memories that I did my best to ignore began to flood to the forefront, this place being where I first set up shop. The hours I spent testing the limits of my strength, turning I-beams and concrete into twisted and blasted heaps. The days where I poured over chemical formulas to find the right combination of solutions for my web shooters, often leaving me in a jumbled mess of failed experiments that took another few days to properly wash out. And that's not even getting into the time it took to get my costume and the web shooters themselves into working condition.
I often told myself that I spent two years as a vigilante. Truth be told, it was more like I spent more time preparing to become one than actually acting as one. I'd go out, dressed in the underlayer I now used and would help wherever I can, but I only really picked up momentum when I fully completed my ensemble.
And now here I was, leaving behind the remnants of my earliest efforts. A swell of what I could only call nostalgia flowed into my chest. It felt strange, uncomfortable. A feeling I didn't know I was capable of. I looked down at my hands again. They were completely still now.
They clenched into fists as I looked back up, my eyes narrowing. The nostalgia turned into a grim pit. 'It's not enough.' I turn and continue my way back to Leblanc. 'But it's a start.'
4/14 Early Morning
When I get back into Yongen-jaya, I settle for hiding my bag of materials on the roof of Leblanc, tucking them underneath the AC unit to keep it secure, shooting a ball of web onto it just to be safe. I crawled down the wall and entered my room, changing into plainclothes and went through my routine at the bathhouse. I greeted the elderly man who managed the place and he responded with his usual grunt of acknowledgement as his eyes focused in a different book. After I undressed, I made sure to hide the scabs on my back and sides with an extra towel thrown over my shoulders.
I rubbed my sore muscles underneath the warm water, massaging the tension out of them. My wounds had mostly healed, ugly green scabs formed in place of the cuts and entry points. They'd be gone after today. The only area that had yet to fully heal was my leg, which was expected given the need to walk on it.
Finishing up, I walked back to the café, hearing Sakura prepping the kitchen through the walls. He turned to face me as I unlocked the door and walked in. "So, how was your first night of confinement?" I tilt my head. What did he mean by that? His eyes narrowed at me. "You did stay in your room, right?" Ah. He told me no more going out at night. Right.
"Yes." I lied easily enough. "It was fine."
"I know the place isn't much, but like I said, prove you can be responsible and I'll give you some slack." He turns, a fresh plate of curry in his hand. "Here. Eat up." I look up from the plate, a questioning glance in my eyes. "Probably better than whatever you've been eating for breakfast the past couple of days."
Considering that the last time I ate was when he gave a plate of curry much like this one three days ago, Sakura was very much correct. With that in mind, I sat down, said my thanks for the food, then began to eat. I must have been hungrier than I appeared since it took me only about two minutes to finish the plate. I could see Sakura's coy smile at the sight out of the corner of my eye, a rare sight from him.
"Thank you for the meal." I said, getting up and bringing the plate to the sink.
"I'll take care of-" I ignored him and walked by, turning on the sink and washing the plate. I put it on the drying rack, wiping my hands on a rag. "Jeez you're stubborn." I gave him a look as I went back upstairs. I just cleaned up my mess, what was so stubborn about that?
Ignoring the comment, I changed into my school uniform, grabbing my bag and-
SKREEEEEEE-
TRAIN HORN BLARING-
CAR ENGINE REVVING-
I fell to my knees, a scream ripping my throat up as my hands shot to my ears.
"KID, YOU ALRIGHT?!" Sakura's voice pierced my eardrums, rattling around in my head and carving into my mind like a serrated knife.
"F-fine. Just hit my knee on the bedpost." I scrambled to my school bag, rifling around for the bottle of Imitrex, grabbing ten tablets and swallowing them whole. Forcing myself back up on shaking legs, I placed my hand on the wall, sticking to it for support.
'Damn it all.' Of all the times for my head to act up, it had to be now. It appears that I hadn't recovered as much as I thought from my fight with Hadogenes, at least with concern to my head trauma.
I could hear Sakura move towards the stairs, his footfalls sounding like slabs of concrete thudding against thick oak. I quickly put the rest of my uniform on and slung my school bag over my shoulder, striding to the stairwell and turning onto the top steps the moment he reached the bottom ones.
"You good?" His eyes were quirked up in concern, boring into me from behind his glasses.
"Yeah." I walked downstairs, grasping the rail in a vice grip to keep myself steady. "Just hit an awkward spot." He let out a mirthless laugh as he turned back into the bar.
"I'll bet. Sounded like you broke something up there." I nearly groaned at the choice words but managed to control myself. "Didn't figure you for the clumsy type."
I scoffed as I went to the fridge, grabbing the water jug and pouring a glass. "I'm not." I greedily drank the refreshing liquid in one motion, depositing the glass into the sink. "Have a good day." Sakura didn't reply as the door closed and I made my way to the train. As I embarked on it, I leaned my head back onto the cold windshield, massaging my temples in firm motions.
'This isn't good.' If my power was flaring up like that, it meant that my fight with Hadogenes likely left me with a mild concussion. On one hand, the fact that it was only doing so now after several days of no prior incidents, then it was likely already mostly healed. On the other, it meant that anymore injuries to the head or loud enough sounds would be enough to put me out of commission for several days. A complication that I couldn't afford at the moment.
"And this is the scene where, just two nights ago, a vicious fire overtook this office building at a shocking pace." My eyes widened slightly, feeling embers of heat crawling against my back. I looked to my right, seeing two fellow students looking at one of their phones. "But that is not what was most shocking event to happen that fateful night." The sound of fire soon replaced the reporter's voice, followed by the sound of glass being shattered. "A surprise appearance from Tokyo's own vigilante, The Pale Spider, saving the lives of three men who were trapped by the flames was caught on film by people at the scene."
"So cool!" The boy holding the phone shouted next to his friend. I blinked. Not the word I would use to describe that night. "Tokyo finally has its own superhero! About time!"
"I know right? Japan really only has Sunfire as its own superhero, and he's usually too busy with the X-Men over in America." I had to agree with that sentiment. Sunfire was only one man, and he wasn't in Japan enough of the time to really focus on the problems in Tokyo, let alone the whole country.
"However, it seems that even this masked man's own appearance isn't the final capstone to the night's events." The two boys went quiet. "After saving these men, The Pale Spider was suddenly pulled away from the scene, only barely saving the lives of the office workers. While there are no videos or witnesses saying as to what caused this, what we do know is what happened afterward." My eyes scrunched up, the feeling of something warm brushing against my hand again. It clenched at the memory. "The masked man was seen exiting an alleyway, accompanied by several first responders, helping a police officer that was in critical condition. While a statement was released by the TMPD stating that the officer is now fine and in recovery, the question remains as to what caused this violent turn of events."
A let out a breath a didn't know I was holding, my entire body relaxing at the news. 'Thank God.' My hand went to my rosary, clutching it through my blazer.
"Jeez, look at him." One of the students spoke up. "He looks like he got put through a meat grinder." I actually let out a small laugh at that. It wasn't that far from the truth, after all.
The news report went on, getting to the point where the police tried to apprehend me. "Why'd they try and arrest him?" I heard one of them ask as the train stopped. I got up and stepped out of it, spotting the two as I walked towards Shujin. I kept my distance as I listened to them. "Didn't he save those people and that officer?"
"Yeah, but maybe they thought it was him? I mean, would you trust a guy that looked like that?" The state I was in at that moment flashed in my eyes, to which I could only agree with him.
"I guess. Still, hope the Spider and the police manage to work together in the future. We don't want to deal with what the Avengers are going through right now." A grim thought settled in my mind at the mention of America's current crisis. The newly introduced Superhuman Registration Act. It had the superhero community completely split down the middle, with civilians clamoring for them to make a decision in response to the Stanford Incident.
I could easily see where people were coming from with wanting the act to get accepted. There were hundreds of people, children, that would be alive right now were it not for the New Warriors handling of the situation, treating it more like a publicity stunt that the danger that it was. But even so, the whole situation felt more like a knee jerk reaction to the event than a real solution. A way to make people think that the problem was being solved rather than addressing the actual issue, to keep them mollified. After all, it was Nitro who caused the explosion, even with the New Warriors poor actions that led to it.
But working with the police? Out of the question. I'd seen what their 'work' amounted to countless times before. How little it actually accomplished. There was no way I was going to work with them.
I let out a long, tired sigh, shaking my head. 'The officer is still alive, at the very least.' I may not like the police force, but that was a long way from wishing harm upon them.
A few steps later and a turn around a corner and I was in front of Shujin Academy. I stopped at the front steps, looking up to the front gate. Ushimaru was there, not Kamoshida.
It was strange, being here, knowing what I did to him. 'Go to school, discover an abusive teacher, leave school, deal with teacher, go back to school.' I suppose that was my routine now. Seeing it in action was just... strange, I suppose. I very rarely got to interact with the people I helped after the fact.
"Something on your mind, Kouzai?" Ushimaru broke through my musings. I looked up at his sneering expression, the sight straining my eyes and head. I walked past him. "Tch. Hurry up and get to class."
I walked through the front doors and into the foyer, students animatedly talking amongst themselves, the raucous noise ringing around in my head. I needed to lean against the shoe lockers for a moment, focusing on getting my power under control. Slipping into my school shoes, I did my best to ignore the influx of information. They never said anything worth listening to anyhow. Besides, there was only one thing I was-
"Hey man!" A hand landed on my back, this time only managing to make me grunt and wince slightly in surprise. I turned my head, ignoring my ringing ears as a familiar spot of bleached hair and a wide grin greeted me. "What's up?" Ryuji Sakamoto asks. With all I had done last night, our last somber interaction with each other had wandered to the back of my mind.
"Nothing." I wanted to tell him that Kamoshida was no longer an issue, help set his mind at ease, maybe even give him some closure with regards to his history with the man. But I couldn't. My chest went tight at the unfortunate reality of that fact, but I managed to ignore it. I began walking towards class, Sakamoto getting into step with me.
"So, how're doing after yesterday?" His voice thankfully lowered, gaining a worried edge to it. My eyes drifted to the ground, staring at the floor in shame.
"Fine." I looked to him. "Yourself?" He shrugged his shoulders.
"I've been better, but I'm here now." He looked to me, determined. "So, what's the plan now?" I stared at him for a long while, not being able to even think of a suitable answer.
I could easily lie to him, tell him that I had come up with one and would talk to him about it later. But I couldn't. I don't know why, but lying to Sakamoto... it just felt wrong. "I don't know," was the best I could come up with. His face scrunched up, but he thankfully didn't look angry or upset.
"I guess that's fair, but we can't sit around and do nothing for too long." I nodded as we cleared the last steps to my floor, looking back down to the floor as I went to the door to homeroom. "Hey," he placed a comforting hand on my shoulder, and for once I didn't flinch at the contact as I looked down at him. "Don't beat yourself up man. We'll figure something out." He smiled at me. His look was the definition of reassuring, not a hint of trepidation or worry on it. At the moment, I honestly felt a little bit jealous of him.
Was I ever able to do that for anyone? Just look at them, tell them that it's going to be okay, and believe me?
The past couple of days flash in my mind. Shiho. Ann. Mishima. Even Ryuji. I told them that it would get better in one way or another. Neither time worked. Even that conversation I had with Ann, when I told her that it would get better, her smile dropped just the tiniest amount. She didn't believe that, no matter how much she might have wanted to.
I stood there, hand numb around the door handle. And I made my decision. "It's over." Sakamoto blinked. "Kamoshida. He's over and dealt with. He won't hurt anyone else ever again." I pulled the door open.
"Whoa, wait." He stuttered, stepping into the classroom with me. "What d'you mean by that?"
"Sakamoto." He clamped his mouth shut as Kawakami called him out. "What are you doing here?" Her usual tired tone cuts through the chatter of other students, their conversations dying as they turned to look at him. Sakamoto's face took on an annoyed grimace.
"I was just talking with Kuro-san." I glanced at him for the abbreviation of my name. Why did he call me that?
"Get to class." He tried to protest. "Now." Kawakami's voice gained an edge to it. A well of guilt stabbed through my chest as he looked to me, eyes strained with confusion. I looked back, my own not moving an inch. He let out a sigh as he stuffed his hands in his pockets, trudging out of the room. "Kouzai-kun." I looked to her. The poorly concealed bags under her eyes glare at me. "Sit down." I do so, hanging my school bag on the side and resting my head against my palms, letting out a long sigh as I rub my forehead into them.
"You okay?" I look up, Takamaki-san turning in her chair to look at me. She looks better than the last couple of days I've seen her, less tension in her face. It doesn't do anything to set me at ease.
"Yes." I mutter, putting my head back into my palms. I can feel her muscles twitch, wanting to say something else. The bell rings before she has a chance. Roll call goes through and I force myself to stand up when I'm called. Class begins. I only barely pay attention to the lecture and lesson, idly writing notes down on autopilot.
I wasn't pleased with myself, dismissing Sakamoto like that and leaving him with so little information. The fact that I told him something I shouldn't know, that the only way I could know is if I was the one responsible, leaving a potential leak to my identity barely even registered. I wanted to properly explain to him, Mishima, Takamaki and Suzui that it was over. Kamoshida was now a non-entity in their lives. It was finally over for them.
'But it isn't over for you.' …. No. It wasn't. But at the very least, I knew I did some good here.
I took a calming breath, looking up from my hands and out the window. I could at least allow myself some peace of mind for that.
4/14 Morning
Homeroom finished up, Ushimaru coming to replace Kawakami. The lesson goes on with me writing notes. I can hear Kobayakawa repeatedly try to call Kamoshida to no avail, with him asking any of the staff members where he was getting equally disappointing results. A substitute was frantically brought to the school with the morning gym class having a free period. Already there were rumors that I was somehow responsible, with me getting into a fight with him after hours. This time, it wasn't me who got them to stop talking with a glare, but Takamaki-san herself who did it. A part of me was impressed. It was quite the glare she had when she used it.
The day went on. Nothing unusual. Then I hear it.
School access door opening. Shuffling footsteps scratch on asphalt. Suzui's. My pencil stops, eyes going wide. Time slows down as my heart turns to ice in my chest, my neck feeling like it has metal screws in it from how slowly I turn towards the windows on the right.Fence links rattling, fabric being torn from getting caught on sharp edge. I bolted upright from my desk, everyone's eyes twisting to me.
Ushimaru snaps at me, tells me to sit back down. I ignore him as I shoot out the door, nearly ripping the thing off the wall.
Shiho is on the roof. On the other side of the fence.
I know that someone yells out that she's going to jump without really hearing it. I know that the halls begin to fill with other students, a patch of blonde hair pressing itself against the windows next to me. And I know, that as soon as Shiho spots Ann, she smiles. A genuine, happy smile. Then I feel her muscles go slack.
I run down the halls, as fast as I could with the crowds. When I come round the corner, I need to jump and kick off the wall to stop myself from running through it. The sea of bodies in front of me departs as soon as they see me, but when I close up to the final corner, one gets in my way. As I sidestep and launch my body into the lockers, bending around my body, I can hear Shiho's shoes slip off the roof top.
"GET OUT OF THE WAY!" I yell at the top of my lungs. Everyone in front of me listens. I kick forward off the wall and to the windows, then off them and back to the wall, angling my shoulders and brining my arms up as I kick off one final time.
A shower of glass breaks around me, falling to the grass and digging through my uniform and into my skin. I stab one hand out, clasping on Shiho's ankle as hard as I can without breaking it, using my power to make sure it's impossible for me to lose my grip. I angle one of my legs onto the grilles on the window, the jagged metal and glass dragging and digging into the underside of my knee as it bends with my weight.
We fall against the outer wall, the side of Shiho's head hitting against the building with a sick crack, with her body going limp immediately after. My other leg finds its footing on the wall as I bring my other hand to get a firmer grip. Whatever pain I feel from the shards of glass is not even in the back of my mind. The two of us dangle there for a while, the crowds going silent at what they just witnessed. I growl out, looking to up to see a group of gawking students peeking through the whole I made. "Help her!" They jump, fumbling around about what to do until finally one of them goes to grab at my leg. "Not me! Her!" There was no way they'd be able to lift me, let alone the both of us. As such, I quickly began to pull Shiho upwards, grabbing at her legs and pulling myself back up so they could pull her back in.
The grille holding my weight shifted and groaned, causing Shiho and I to lurch downwards awkwardly. In the middle of moving her up, I lost my grip on Shiho for a moment. I tightened my grip, hearing bones creak under the pressure. I could feel her muscles tighten at the sudden sound and motion, quickly followed by her jolting awake from unconsciousness. She looked up, blood running from the cut and dripping down onto the grass below. Her eyes went wide in fear as they landed on me.
"No!" She began to shake and kick at me. "Let me go!" I tried to speak up, to say something to calm her down, but then I felt my head light up on fire, as though it were about to split open.
PEOPLE CLAMORING-
CAMERA SHUTTERS CLICKING-
FOOTSTEPS RUSHING-
"SHIHO!" I looked up, my vision blurring, but I could still recognize the hair color of Ann through the dull haze. Instantly Shiho stopped panicking, her throat hitching at the sight of her friend.
"A-Ann-" Her voice was cut off. I felt gravity beginning to take hold.
The grille had broken off.
I pulled up, putting my other hand on Shiho's back and pushed forward. She let out a shriek that felt like a blade being pushed between my eyes. I kicked off the wall, letting my senses fully go out on instinct in order to tell me what to land on.
SKREEEE-
"WHAT'S GOING-
"CALL AN-"
WREE-OOO!
FOOTSTE-
"KOUZA-!"
GROUND GETTING-
The influx overwhelmed me. My body went limp, not listening to what I told it. Then the back of my head hit against something – iron coating air, bones – causing my body to violently fling forwards. I heard asphalt crack underneath me as my face closed in on it. Stars invaded my vision, dancing in my eyes even as they were closed – screaming, shouting, clamoring.
Numbly, I could feel my arms move out from underneath me –blood flowing down – then slip out, making my nose get a face full of pavement and dirt. I could smell something warm and iron tinted.
The last thing I could hear before my mind went bank was a set of footsteps running. To me, then the sound of sirens finally making my senses force me into a deep sleep.
Author's Notes:
And I'm back. With a rather depressing note to continue things on.
So, with this, we really begin to pick things up in how the butterflies are going to be flapping their wings in this story. Kamoshida has been dealt with, Kouzai begins to make connections that he doesn't fully realize with other people, and one of the defining moments of Persona 5 has been completely averted. Well, for the most part. Still going to need to deal with the fallout of it.
With regards to the chapter itself, and more specifically its length, I'm going to try and move towards smaller wordcounts for my chapters. That way, I fell that I'll be able to better update the work than leave you guys waiting for potentially months (Jesus, I'm a lazy bastard.) Hopefully, it'll work out.
