Chapter 12: Lethargic Reflection

She couldn't sleep.

It was pitch black in her room and Natsuki could care less knowing what time it was. Staring up at the ceiling, she slid a cool hand against her forehead. That, and she was overheating anyway. Why? Warm weather wasn't usually forecast until months later. Least she assumed. Ugh, whatever. Her annoyance was already beginning to get the better of her and she had only been awake for a few minutes.

Natsuki mildly wondered if she should call Shizuru. But having not completed their ceremony, that would mean contacting her by phone. She had no desire to heave herself up. Besides, whether Shizuru had told her that she didn't mind or not, Natsuki refused to disturb her. Still, that didn't stop the craving from escaping the back of her mind. Before she knew it, Natsuki was away with the fairies.

If she hadn't been crippled in that damned crash, she would definitely have become an Otome by now. Hell, she probably would've been Shizuru's underclassman. The abrupt realisation depressed her. Or… would she? After all, the silliest things spooked her half the time. What kind of world had she been thrown into? The public deemed her privileged, but how was she? Without control in the government, nor experienced in anything useful, she felt discarded. Before her injury, she had run, become competent in martial arts and even took on target practice with pistols. The latter was still possible wheelchair-bound, but she adamantly declined to partake in it anymore. What was the point?

A sigh escaped from her lips.

She's useless—a liability.

Twisting her torso, she reached down underneath the blankets. Dragging her legs into place, she rested onto her side instead. Screw her life. There were no interests left to entertain herself with, no distractions, not even a job. But a job in what? Which industry? Who for? What for? Why bother? Why not die? Staring hard at the door, Natsuki inhaled a sharp breath. If she asked Shizuru to carry her into the sky, how would she respond? Pathetic. Everyone knew that she'd probably have a nervous breakdown, and Shizuru might perhaps not even dare anyhow. Why endanger her charge for such a petty desire? A thirst for freedom? A…?

Another exhale slipped from Natsuki's lips. Her depression sank down against her torso. Closing her eyes, Natsuki wondered why she ever bothered caring. But of course she cared. She was mentally ill and disabled to boot.

Growling, she threw the blankets from off herself. Hoisting herself up, she dragged herself to the edge of the bed. Fuck it. Dragging the wheelchair over, she hauled herself into it and opened the drawer of her nightstand. Inside it she retrieved a package of cigarettes and a lighter.

Why was it that whenever something potentially positive cropped up, her mental health deteriorated? Shouldn't she be feeling excited or filled with hope? So many unanswered questions swarmed her mind that Natsuki grit her teeth in anger. It was always the same. Rather than have realistic obstacles in her life, it felt like she was climbing a mountain continuously. There was no relief—only remorse and her pathetic head being absolutely overdramatic. Earl, she could throw herself off her balcony which she was heading for right now. Would that help? Would that shut her brain up? Maybe.

But she didn't have the energy to attempt it. Besides, what use was that?

Opening the balcony door, the warm breeze hit her skin. Above the Hexagon's treeline, she could see a hint of the busy traffic. Aries never slept, much like her mind. Rolling her eyes at the comparison, she opened her packet of cigarettes. Anyway, if she got her legs back, what would she even do? How does one overcome mental illness? What is that magic spell people seemingly cast to defeat it? How does one exist who doesn't suffer from mental health? Natsuki couldn't get her head around it.

Lighting her cigarette, she placed the packet and lighter on the balcony table beside the ashtray.

Ahh, to live the life she once did during her childhood. No worries, obscene expectations, responsibilities, disability nor mental illness. Just herself. How she used to be.

Taking a long drag of her cigarette, she mildly wondered how her childhood friends were doing. She had lost contact with them during her mother's presidential election rallies. Had they forgotten about her? Did they spite her? Staring at the amber of her cigarette, Natsuki paused. Should she call N—

"—atsuki?"

Pulling her gaze to the balcony beside hers, she was greeted by the sight of Shizuru in a violet nightgown. Staring, she couldn't pull her eyes away. "...Shizuru?" She frowned, exhaling smoke.

A/N: Hey, I joined a great Mai-Series Discord this week called Fuuka o Taisen - (http) : / / discord . gg / U2y8x8. It has twenty-five members so far and loads of content/info.