I sincerely hated writing this chapter. I had not one, not two, not even three false starts that I scrapped, but five. Which. Is awful. But, good news, I didn't time skip like I was thinking of maybe doing and like what I did with kurosaki and am Regretting. Anyways guess who still hasn't read the manga or watched the anime and is nonetheless thinking about this fic constantly? Not me. Guess who has also been trying very hard to work on their other fics. Actually me. But this year, guys, the Stress.

In other news I'm technically posting this when I promised to (though I'm not really happy with it???). The other chapters will be getting updates but just. Not yet because oh my god editing this was a nightmare.

Happy New Year, guys! Have over 7k words of the fic nobody asked for.

Disclaimers: This chapter has! Violence, bullying, depictions of depression and dissociation and two (2) swear words by my count. Both of them are at the end.

EDIT 1/23: to the person who asked me if I was going to post my fics on AO3 my answer is yes. Amnesiac probably won't go up there until I have the rewrite down but I've been planning on crossposting. You can find my current account under BaskervilleLottie and follow me there for updates if you'd like!

It isn't that long before Nami sees Hibari again in the grand scheme of things, after that first meeting.

Nami knows that whatever talk her mama had with Yun-baa had shaken her badly. Not that Nami had asked, because she'd promised to leave that sort of thing alone until she was older or her mama thought she was ready to be told. They spend a month sleeping in the same room, Nami sometimes slipping into her mama's futon with her to try and offer comfort when the woman begins to look particularly haggard or sad.

It always made her go all quiet and shiny-eyed, with a soft and trembling smile, but it also makes her noticeably happier for awhile after, so it's worth the skin-heaving feeling that it gives her.

Nami loves her mama, so a little discomfort sometimes isn't all that bad.

Anyways, she meets Hibari again at school. He's a year above her, and listening to other kids and teachers talking reveals to her that he's only recently transferred into the elementary school. Part of her wants to go and see for herself, to try and see if maybe he came to school for her, but the girl in her memories is scolded for being full-of-herself and rude, so Nami just hunches in her seat a little and doesn't move.

She doesn't have to. He finds her during lunch.

"Small animal," he says from the doorway, more a statement than greeting, and she can't quite help the way she perks up. She doesn't know him very well, but she gets attached to people and things quickly.

(She remembers being told to "loosen your grip.")

"Hibari-san," she greets hesitantly, sitting up a little straighter in her seat. The entire room is dead silent despite that there are at least half of the other kids in the class currently in the room. Apparently, his reputation precedes him, not that she knows why, being so socially out of the loop.

In one corner of the room, she can feel Takeshi's eyes on them both. She doesn't know how to feel about that- about him watching her.

"Come with me," his voice isn't questioning, isn't requesting, but from what she remembers about him, what she knows about him, if she were to say no, he wouldn't make her. He certainly wouldn't stay, and he'd probably not search her out again, but he wouldn't make her. There's a little comfort in that, and she gets up to follow him without a refusal.

They walk through the halls, in a familiar manner, her a foot or so behind, trying to keep up. It's a while before she notices that they're on the stairs, going up and up and up to the roof.

"We-we're not supposed to-" Nami points out upon spotting a "Do Not Enter" sign on one of the walls, but Hibari makes a hum sound to interrupt her, so she assumes he knows. She doesn't want to get in trouble, but… If Hibari's there, that might be okay. She doesn't know why it'd be okay, but she feels like it would be. The roof comes into sight quickly enough, and the roof itself when they get out is not much to look at.

It's blank stone and gray-colored gravel, with small walls near the sides that don't even come up to her knees and the occasional patchy fence, poorly maintained and rattling a little with the wind. There's metal boxes near one side that might be air conditioners, but nothing else really on the roof other than those and the small box leading to the stairwell behind them.

She isn't sure why they came to the roof.

"H-Hibari-san?" She eventually questions, hesitant but confused, and he hums again, looking around with a stern expression on his face before he turns towards her.

"You can eat lunch here," he tells her, and she runs that through her head before widening her eyes.

"With- with you? Right?" There's another hum, this one sounding more agreeing before he looks away from her to survey the roof once more, walking towards the side. Nami stands uncertainly in place before turning towards the stairs. "I'll go get my lunch," she calls behind her and then hurries away, slowing down once on the actual stairs. She doesn't want to fall somewhere her mama won't be there to catch her, and stairs are always a risk no matter her speed. She has to be careful

She almost gets lost on her way to the classroom, but she makes it, and slips into the room as stealthily as she can. She hasn't been bullied, exactly, and she isn't afraid, of course not, but she doesn't want to get held up. Doesn't want to risk anything happening.

She comes and goes quickly before anyone notices her, and makes her way quickly back to the roof. She finds Hibari reclining on the ground with his eyes closed, seemingly napping. Nami hesitates for a moment, not wanting to disturb him, before he makes a sound in his throat conveying irritation and impatience. She walks over and stops around two feet away, kneeling down on the ground and setting her bento on the ground in front of her and opening it up before hesitating again.

"H-Hibari-san? Do- do you have a bento?" A dismissive silence. "If you want you can have some of mine… I- I only have one pair of chopsticks, though…" A silvery eye cracks open and looks over at her with something she can't exactly identify, and she twitches a little. Then he sits up and she leans back a little to be clear of him as he uses his arm to hold himself up and peers into her bento.

Nimble fingers pick up her chopsticks and use them to pick up a piece of the chicken on top of her rice, and he bites into it, teeth a great distance from the laquered wood and more neatly than she's seen anyone use chopsticks other than her mama. He then plucks up a few of the veggies and one more piece of the chicken, dropping them onto one of the napkins attached to the top of her bento before cleaning them off on said napkin and setting them back down with a hum.

She can't help but feel relieved that he hadn't taken any of the rice- it's her favorite part of her bentos, and she has a lot of it because he mama knows that. She offers the black haired boy a smile, using her chopsticks to scoop some rice up.

Lunch is… nicer than she expected it to be.

"Dame-Tsuna, you know that Hibari guy?" One of her classmates asks in a curious voice as she sits at her desk, waiting for the teacher to come. Something in her stomach and chest flinches at the name, but outwardly she doesn't move so much as an eyebrow.

(If they see any sign that you care, they will never stop.)

She doesn't respond to their words in any way, set on ignoring them. They continue to ask her things, jostling her when she ignores them, but she continues to do so, and eventually the teacher comes into the room. He looks a little paler than she remembers him being, and as he stands at the front of the room, he gestures for her to get up and come closer.

"Sawada," he calls when she at first doesn't respond. "Get your things and move up here. You'll sit here from now on." He's pointing to a desk at the very front of the room and in the center, right in front of his podium and the board, in front of every single student

She doesn't want to move. Being in the back corner and surrounded is better than having everybody at her back at all times and still surrounded.

"D- Sawada," The teacher's voice is sharp and commanding now, a little of his color returning to him, and she flinches down in her seat before starting to sluggishly collect her things. The students around her taunt her about her speed, and she can't help the pursing of her lips and the slight narrowing of her eyes. Luckily, it doesn't seem like anyone notices, and with her slow steps towards her seat, she doesn't even stumble.

She doesn't know why she's being moved, but she already hates it, and she hasn't even made it to her new seat yet. Something in her stomach blooms searing hot, swelling and swelling, and she doesn't bother trying to stop it, because it disappears into nothing in seconds before truly reaching her. It's been that way with every powerful emotion for years how.

But she's gotten used to it. At least she's not sitting and staring or laying down and staring and doing nothing, anymore. That's an improvement, maybe. Not that she still doesn't have bad days, but-

The day passes slowly from then on, but when someone tries to take advantage of her back being turned on the class, the teacher stops them with a quick reprimand. It's never worded as "stop bothering Nami" but more "stop bothering me", but she's willing to take what she can, there. Class ends, and she doesn't take the time to hesitate, slipping out from her desk by going boneless and collapsing to the ground, crawling out from under the top and then leaving. Her bag almost trips her up when she grabs it, and she stumbles a few times, but she doesn't fall. She hears her classmates calling after her, nauseating shouts of Dame-Tsuna filling the air behind her, but ignores them.

She needs to get out.

She does trip on the stairs, but it's near the bottom so she doesn't fall too far, legs tangling together just before the last step and sending her sprawling onto her front. Her arms move fast enough to put her bag between her face and the floor, but her face still hits hard enough to sink her teeth into her cheeks and lip. When she gets to her feet, licking along her upper lip reflexively, she can taste the wet pennies of blood, meaning she likely has a bloody nose or lip. Distantly, she can hear the sounds of students moving around her, teachers giving their final say, but she's frozen.

"Little animal," a familiar voice speaks up nearby and her eyes flick over toward the source, finding Hibari standing near the row of shoe lockers containing her own locker. She blinks at him a little dumbly before twitching her numb face into what she hopes might be a smile, feeling completely detached from her own body.

His eyebrows pinch, something in her chest screams like a wounded, cornered thing, and she takes a stuttering step in his direction. The next steps aren't so hard, but she can't feel her legs through the tingling. The feeling takes a long time to go away.

Nami's eyes burn with the suggestion of tears she's resolutely ignoring, her back and shoulders smarting from where she's slammed into the wall to escape the grasping hands of one of her classmates, her school bag dropping carelessly to the ground from suddenly nerveless fingers. The hand gripping her shoulder had been tight but in her panic she'd caused their nails to dig in and scratch her before she hit the wall.

Her classmates- three of them, all taller than her and two of them boys- stare at her in confused offense, and she stubbornly keeps her eyes open, refusing to blink.

"Hey, Dame-Tsuna, what's with you and our senpai?" One of them asks as she's cornered in on all sides. Nami can feel her heartbeat rising and her fingertips freezing. She wants to clench her hands into fists or tuck them into her sleeves but she keeps as still as possible. Doesn't want to risk provoking them.

"Can she even talk?" The lone girl asks snippily, "she never says anything. Even to sensei." It feels like her tongue swells up in her mouth, the distance between her and this moment increasing. She couldn't say anything even if she wanted to, that much she knows.

"Hey!" The final boy's voice is sharp and loud, causing Nami to flinch hard enough that her head snaps into the wall. Her eyes close reflexively in response, the gathered liquid in one of her eyes falling. The girl makes a dismissive noise.

"She's crying? We didn't even do anything."

"Herbivores," the familiar flat tone is as much a comfort as a surprise, and Nami opens her eyes to look at where Hibari stands at the end of the hall near the stairs from where he had apparently come up to get her. Her classmates spin around.

"Ah, senpai-"

"Cease and desist, before I bite you to death," he intones, stalking closer. Nami blinks in confusion at the threat- it's the first time she's ever heard anyone threaten to bite someone until they die. The kids flinch and tremble, staring at him as he walks steadily closer, before the girl decides she doesn't like her chances against their upper senpai and bolts, the other two not far behind. Hibari continues forward toward her without even glancing after their retreat, and her heart slows it's quickening rhythm, her breath starting to come easier as she stares at the hollow of his neck rather than his face.

He knocks something against the top of her head and she jerks a little, looking up as she's poured back into wakefulness. Her umbrella rests on her head, and when she lays eyes on it, Hibari's hand releases it, letting it fall into her grip as she scrambles to catch it. Nami's face creases in confusion.

"Hibari?

"It's raining," he says without any real context. She feels her eyes tighten and turns to look out one of the windows of the hallway and finds that it is raining, despite that today was supposed to be a mostly-nice day.

"Why… Why did you have my umbrella?" She asks next, because she would have passed the umbrella racks on their way out of the school, he didn't need to specifically bring hers to her. He makes a sound that she's unable to translate with her limited ability, and when she glances toward his face properly, she can find no emotion there. Not that she had really expected to. "... Thank you, Hibari-san," she eventually says, looking away again, this time down at his hands.

There's nothing in them, and they're held loosely at his side. So he didn't grab any of his things before he left to get her umbrella from the front of the school. Her own fingers twitch and tighten around her umbrella before she leans down to collect her bag back up in one hand, hiking it high toward her shoulder as she tightens her fingers around the grips of both.

He turns then, and she follows easily behind, falling back some due to the difference in their leg length but never too far away because of how Hibari times his steps and measures his speed. Something in her heart clenches and twists before vanishing with a sensation like inhaling ice, and she blinks dry eyes at his back, feeling like she's missing something.

Two years later, nine year old Sawada Tsunami wakes up with something sickening wrapping vice-like fingers around her insides. Her entire body feels like it's out of tune, cold and blurred from focus, and she can tell today will be another Bad Day. Or at least something like one. It feels like her stomach has dropped out, like she's forgotten herself at the top of a steep drop.

She feels out-of-sync with the world. Part of it, but somehow separated.

She blinks slowly at the wall next to her futon and tries to move. It takes her a long time to roll onto her back to stare at the ceiling. Everything blanks after that- she doesn't know the next step, can't bring herself to care about it.

When's the last time she blinked? She does it, just in case it's been longer than she expects, and her eyes ache so she keeps then closed. It doesn't really help. She can hear her mama somewhere else in the house, metal on ceramic, a light tune sung just so. She wonders what she's doing, if she's making breakfast or if it's already lunch time.

Nami isn't hungry. She doesn't know why she's thinking about food, so she stops. Thinks about nothing.

"Nami-chan? Musume?" Her mama is at the door of her room, tapping the wood with concern. She doesn't come in because she respects Nami's personal space areas, but she knows she's allowed to come in if she thinks something is wrong.

Nami thinks about answering, but she doesn't remember how to talk. It involves words and the throat and the mouth, but she isn't sure she can do it. She thinks about answering anyway. She stays still.

"... Nami?" Her mama asks again and Nami opens her aching eyes again to slide them towards her door. She wants to close them again, but she doesn't. The door opens, and she can see her mama standing on the other side, face creased with worry. "Nami-cha-" she stops, eyes on Nami where she still lays on her futon, before starting once more, hesitant now. More thoughtful and cautious. "-is today a Bad Day?"

There's no particular inflection on the final two words that Nami is able to hear, but she assigns the words significance anyway. She thinks about maybe nodding, since she can't talk, but can't tell if she manages it.

"I'll call the school, musume, you just feel better," her mama gives her a smile, soft and worried, before closing the door and presumably leaving. Something hot and tight swells in Nami's chest, infected and bloating, and the sensation grows and grows until it vanishes, unresolved and unexpressed and dispersing like a slowly spreading toxin.

Sometimes, Nami thinks, it would be easier if she hated her mama, or if her mama was a bad mother. The girl she once was didn't know how to handle good things or care when she received it, as rare as it was, and Nami is more like that girl than she once was. She's still Nami, but… she's not only Nami, anymore.

Something burns, bitingly cold, against the inside of her sternum and Nami's thoughts fall still and silent. She remembers to blink, inhaling and exhaling when she remembers how to flex her torso, but otherwise she drifts into a state almost like nonexistence. It's like time fades away, none of it matters, and she's alone in a bubble, untouched by anything.

Her nose twitches, she inhales sharply, and she moves before she can decide to do so, one hand reaching up to pinch her nose as she sneezes, eyes squeezing closed and lungs seizing. It's like her entire body is suddenly revitalized, sensation flooding in, energy jolting through every nerve. She breathes in, her lungs feeling overfull, her head spinning.

Had she been holding her breath?

Rolling onto her side and then onto her stomach, arms coming up beneath her chest to brace her body, Nami sets her eyes to half mast and tries to breathe gently. The ice in her chest feels thicker and heavier than it usually does, her limbs still tingling with cold like bad circulation, as though her body is trying to get used to having her inside of it again.

Her knees drag up to press against her stomach, and her back bows. She breathes and feels like she still doesn't exist, but pushes through it, pressing herself up into a sitting position. She then pushes herself into a standing position, and while her insides feel like she's swaying in place, her eyes stay stationary like she has a firm stance. Walking towards her door reveals that she doesn't have any feeling in her legs again, despite that she can walk and move without any perceivable difficulty. When she gets to it, she can't bring herself to reach out to the door, staring blankly at it for a time that she can't gauge, feeling like she's listing to either side constantly even if her eyes continue to show a still line of sight.

The door eventually opens on its own and she takes a few seconds to look up and meet her mama's eyes, soft with worry, devoid of anything truly negative. Nana's eyes widen slightly in surprise, and it feels like something in Nami's chest tries to reach out between her and her body, but her fingertips tingle instead of anything else. Her eyes flick away to look at the wall of the hallway behind and to the side of her mama's head, standing still.

Nana thinks about saying something, but decides otherwise, offering only a small smile of comfort and turning to go back down the hallway toward the stairs without much sound beyond a quiet hum. Trailing silently behind her mom, Nami's brain sluggishly trying to understand like it always does, dragging metaphorical feet through thick, muddy-slush.

She makes it all the way into the kitchen before she realizes someone else is in the kitchen, sitting at the table with a cup of tea in one of the most relaxed tea-drinking positions she's ever seen him in, barring when they drink from the thermos she brings to school with her bento. He still manages to make it look refined, though.

Hibari doesn't say anything or even look over at her, simply continuing to drink his tea as she stands limb-locked behind his right shoulder. It smells like some kind of Sencha. Nami slips her fingers against the bottom hem of her large t-shirt to rub the old, soft cotton and feels like she's swaying gently in place before she moves, one shudder step before folding down to the ground on jelly legs.

She drops into something close to seiza at the table next to him, about a foot away on her normal cushion, moved from its standard place, curling her torso over her legs and dropping her forehead against it's smooth wood. The bridge of her nose presses against the edge of the table and her breath is hot and damp against her knees. Nobody says anything, and Hibari sips near silently at his tea again. From the sound of it as her mama walks closer and then drops a few things down, she's served a small plate and bowl, a cup near it. She inhales and smells rice, soy sauce and egg. She lifts her head somewhat to blink tiredly at the tamago kake gohan(*), she shifts her jaw to suppress a yawn as her eyes prickle with heat and the threat of the associated tears. Next to the main dish is a small dish of soy sauce, and a cup softly fizzling with Fanta.

Fingers twitch, attached to hands that she had dropped lifelessly down to the ground next to her legs. Slowly levering herself upright, Nami shuffles her knees to inch closer to the table and straightens her back, reaching for the chopsticks resting on the table on their hashioki.

"Itadakimasu," she murmurs quietly but sincerely before adjusting her grip on the lacquered wood and picking up some of the rice and egg. As she eats, she listens to the quiet bustle of the kitchen and Nana's curious tone.

"Are you sure you're not hungry, Kyouya-kun?"

"Hm," Hibari sets his drink down completely before he says anything further. "I am sure. I ate at home."

"Alright," she hums before returning to what she'd been doing. Nami steadily chews her way through her food even as it gets cold and congealed, and Hibari eventually runs out of tea but doesn't move from his seat, folding his hands on the table and looking thoughtful when she glances at him curiously. Her mama makes her own meal, significantly more than the one she'd given Nami through her own preference. She eats and occasionally sets her pale chopsticks aside to ask Hibari about his parents, the state of their house and the going-ons in town generally. It feels like there's context she's missing, feels like Nami is only hearing half of the conversation, but that feeling isn't abnormal. Sometimes she just… gets less than she usually does, which even then isn't always much.

She doesn't ask. Half-listens quietly and pretends the food she's forcing down her throat isn't nauseating. She sips some of the orange soda as a palate cleanser and it helps a little. Eventually, she finishes her food (long after Nana had finished her own) and Hibari continues to sit at the table while her Mama gets up, offering Nami a smile of reassurance before leaving the room with a quiet murmur that she doesn't quite hear enough to understand.

She wants to get up. She wants to get up. She doesn't know what she would do but she wants to get up. Do something. Hibari must be bored or uncomfortable- he surely has better things to do than waste time sitting at the Sawada table doing nothing, staring into her dirty dishes and her blood flowing like slow moving mud through her veins.

There's a quiet buzzing, lasting only a second, and Nami listens as Hibari shifts, pulling something out of his pocket that she can see out of the corner of her eye as a phone. The screen lights up and she couldn't read it even if she wanted to, the angle bad and her fuzzy brain unable to focus on any potential kanji she, by some luck, might make out. Hibari makes a flat hum, the kind of hum she usually associates with being bonked on the head, and her head sinks down into her neck a little before Hibari taps out something on his phone and then tucks it back away.

"Little animal," he says as he twists his legs slightly, rising smoothly from the table to stand and taking a single step back before stopping, not turning away to leave. "You can come with me, if you like. I'm going to discipline some herbivores."

Discipline. Herbivores. Words she associates with Hibari going feral on "those disturbing the peace of Namimori," the criteria thereof sometimes ambiguous. Nami wants to- she wants to but all she can do is move her head and twitch an arm up, the limb too leaden to move any further. Hibari notices, though, like he always does, sinking down onto his heels and outreaching a hand toward her nearest elbow. He doesn't touch her until her head and arm jerk again, and then he wraps one hand around her arm just above the elbow, the other hand gripping her hand itself as he lifts the limb and then pulls her upright, giving her time to get used to standing on her legs before he turns to leave.

She dithers for a second, wanting to follow but aware of the dishes behind her. She hates leaving the dishes for Mama to do- usually she washes them after she uses them to save Nana some of the work. This time, Nana sweeps into the room out of nowhere from the adjacent door, waving her on with a, "stay safe, I love you musume, see you later!" and collecting the dishes up from the low table with swift ease.

Nami offers her mother the best facsimile of a smile that she can produce before she follows after Hibari, who is lingering in the door but starting to look impatient now. She feels tingles pricking up her fingertips and over her toes and she lifts her feet a little more. Hibari's eyes flick to her feet at they stop dragging and then he slips his shoes back on, Nami moments behind him before they're both out the door, Nami calling a very low and hesitant,

"See you later," to the house behind her. She hears her mama say something but she isn't able to listen, focusing instead on not falling and following Hibari as he picks up his pace to create some distance, though not outstripping her completely like she knows he could. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and by the tilt of his head as he reads the screen, his steps unhesitating, she can see one of his eyebrows twitch in what might be anger.

She doesn't try to speed up, knowing that to do so would be to trip and waste even more time, instead taking her time to watch where Hibari is going. Once upon a time she might have been able to predict his course- she has vague memories of being able to do something like that as easily as breathing, though the memory of how doesn't register correctly. Deep in her chest, something aches, a feeling of loss sending up phantom stars over the backs of her eyelids when she blinks, but she can't do anything about it so she ignores it.

Hibari's shoulders move a little, his head twitching in a way that puts her in his peripherals for an instant before he continues forward as though he hadn't done anything. He turns left, likely catching her in his peripherals again by doing so, and she catches up soon enough, rounding the corner to see Hibari's shoulders begin to sink down, his strides sliding into that by-now-familiar gait that tickles at her hindbrain. They must be getting closer to the disturbance then, if Hibari is priming to leap and strike with the tonfa that he hasn't yet drawn from the inside of his school gakuran.

He takes a sharp turn left again, down an alley past a tall boy in a junior high uniform she doesn't recognize, his black hair slicked back and blood trickling down his temple and eyebrow.

"Stay here," Hibari calls back as he lunges into the fray she can see as she approaches, what looks like several older boys standing over another boy of the same age in the same uniform. Maybe high schoolers. Nami slows down to a stop a few feet away- close enough for Hibari to see her if he actually looks, but nowhere near arms reach of this stranger who knows Hibari.

She watches the fight for a little bit before turning away, not really interested in watching Hibari destroying people at least twice his size after having seen it dozens of times already and not really able to bring herself to care about them one way or the other right now. She has faith that everything will go just the same as it has always gone, ending with Hibari prevailing one way or the other. Something pulls at her attention, and she looks around, eyes skittering over the people watching the events unfolding in shocked horror and those walking past with barely a second glance.

Lots of people are used to Hibari. Plenty of people aren't, though.

Another side alley catches her attention, and she stares at it's shady depths with blank eyes before looking back toward Hibari and then toward the boy at the mouth of the alley. She can't tell if he has any weapons on him, though she won't know for sure if she doesn't ask, but he looks like he could fight someone. Maybe.

If she gets in a fight and Hibari is still distracted she can run away back here. Even if he doesn't know her and isn't obligated to help her, the fight would spill over onto him anyway, which would prompt him to fight anyway. She doesn't expect to get into a fight, exactly, but it's better to be safe than sorry, usually. She looks back between the alleys a few more times, and the boy notices her looks and makes to speak up but before he can she turns and begins to make her way across the street, the insistent tugging in her chest increasing in fervor until it almost feels like her sternum shakes with the vibration.

When she exhales, she expects to see a cloud of mist from the cold, but there's nothing. She ghosts through the onlookers as they flinch away from her like she's a disease, but she doesn't pay them any attention, getting through them quickly enough and then making her way inside the alley. Between the bricks it's like sound becomes muffled, the shadows cooling the air around her so much further that she pulls her arms close to herself, cupping her hands and curling her fingers in front of her mouth to blow on them.

She can hear something happening in the distance and continues to make her way down the alley, making sure to pick her feet up as a bare necessity prevention against tripping. Coming across a fork in the road leads to her impulsively going right, her feet moving her forward without any conscious thought on her part, taking the next immediate left and then another right as the sounds get closer and become more identifiable as several people talking.

By the time she realizes she's too far to really run back to Hibari or the junior high boy, it's too late and she couldn't turn back even if she wanted to.

Eventually she finds herself at the mouth of the alleyways, staring at a small courtyard area between several buildings. Clotheslines are strung up between a few of the buildings and there are even a few vending machines placed in one of the corners as well as a small picnic table. One of the vending machines is empty, it's casing shattered into pieces, though the other seems like it's in fine condition, if a little dinged up.

A girl about her age sits at the picnic table, still dressed in her school uniform. Her feet rest on the bench, and Nami can see her scraped knees from here, the way the blood beads down the side of one of her calves. She's being very quiet, sniffling but not crying, though that looks like a near thing, her arms wrapped around her bag that she has tucked close to her torso.

In the middle of the courtyard there are several boys- all probably around Junior High age, much older than her, and bigger too. Maybe around 15 or 16.

"- said you're going to go and get the little brat, so where is he?!" One boy snaps at another, two more watching on the sidelines. The final boy isn't even watching them, instead watching the alleys on the opposite end of the courtyard to her, possibly watching for whoever he's waiting for.

"Like hell I said that!" The other boy shouts. "I told him to meet us here-"

"And if he gets lost?!"

"Kyoko!" A loud yell bounces off the bricks from somewhere nearby. The girl on the picnic table looks up, and Nami wishes she could read the emotions in her face and eyes but she can't.

"Well he didn't, did he?" The second hisses back acidically before turning and stomping toward the little girl who flinches back instantly, hunching down and trying to make herself better. "Better call for your big brother, chibi. Don't you want him to come and save you?"

"I-" The girl might say something more but the boy yells again from somewhere in the alleys once more before barreling out into the open, throwing himself across the cracked asphalt at high speed and making a beeline right for her. By the time he slows down enough to see clearly, he's already shoulder slammed the junior high bot away from her.

He's wearing the same uniform Hibari usually does, minus the gakuran, pants rolled up to his knees and sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He's just a little bit tan, with startlingly white hair and a wide mouth. He turns away from where Nami can see quickly though so she can't see his face anymore.

"Kyoko, what happened?" He asks, voice loud, though lacking the vehemence usually associated with yelling specifically. His hands land on her legs near her calves, rolling one sleeve down to wipe up the blood dripping down without any hesitation. "Did these guys hurt you?"

Nami can't hear if the girl answers, and then the boy is turning and slugging the nearest junior high student with enough strength that the boy topples backwards onto his backside, landing roughly and flattening down before falling still.

"Bastards!" The boy definitely yells this time, angry, and lunges for the next nearest boy. Nami creeps out of the mouth of the alley as the boy goes to town with savagery she's never seen outside of Hibari and slides around the edges of the alley until she winds up next to the picnic table, watching the girl watch the boy and hyperventilate, completely frozen in place. Staring, Nami decides the girl is probably in shock and begins digging through the pockets of her shorts until she comes up with what she wants.

She always carries bandaids. They're in all of her pockets, sometimes even ending up getting run through the washer and dryer with her clothes. She doesn't have anything else other than a few yen, but as she checks the bandaid over she can see that it's a good one, the wrapper still intact.

She pokes the girl lightly on the shoulder, feeling a tingle zing up her arm from the contact and withdrawing quickly. The girl flinches with a shriek, and Nami flinches as well, almost tripping over her own feet. The boy lets out a loud, feral noise and when Nami glances over he slams one boy headfirst into another with the momentum of a punch to the diaphragm. She looks back at the girl to find she's being stared at, and she hesitates before holding out a hand palm up to show the bandaid in her grasp.

"I- For me?" She asks, sniffling again and wiping at her teary eyes. Nami nods and looks pointedly at her knees. "Th-thank you. How long ago did you get here?" It seems like Nami may have shocked her out of her tears, but she doesn't count on her luck holding.

Nami shrugs, not bothering to try and answer because she knows she won't be able to, instead stepping forward and around the girl until she's in front of her and starting to open the first band-aid. It puts her back to the fight, but the white haired boy seemed like he had it handled. At least long enough for Nami to put bandaids on the girl's knees to help her calm down and maybe convince her to leave the area until the fighting stops.

"I'm- I'm Kyoko," the girl introduces wetly, looking between Nami and the fight happening behind her with large eyes. Nami nods and makes a humming noise under her breath, subconsciously synching with the tone of the vibration ringing in the back of her head. "Your hands are c-cold."

Nami finishes with the bandaids and reaches out to grab Kyoko's hands, ignoring the icky feeling it provokes, and tugs on them, stepping aside, trying to silently urge the girl to get up and move with her.

She doesn't really get the chance to do much more than that, because Kyoko looks behind her with a shriek and the boy makes a choked sound like an animal that's been kicked in the chest and about to die.

Nami spins in place like she's underwater. The world fades out around the edges.

One of the boys- the quiet, watchful one from before. He has a knife. Blood drips down the side of the younger boy's face from a gash near his eyebrow, and the junior high student lunges like he's going to kill-

She isn't sure how she does it. Or why she does it. Something in her goes blank and silent, she settles against her bones and inside her muscles like she belongs and she moves. One moment she's next to Kyoko and the next she's grabbing that boy's arm in her grasp and levering her weight against it, digging into the flesh with her nails. He starts to go down, overbalancing and she continues to press, keeping a hold of his arm as he hits the ground, wrenching it up around his back with a sickening pop and jerk. The knife flies out of his spasming grip, and she plants both feet on his back, one between his shoulder blades and one above his tailbone, keeping the arm in a grip tighter than she knew she could manage with such small fingers.

The entire courtyard pauses to stare. Only one other boy is still on his feet, but he looks worse for wear. White haired boy has blood starting to soak into his shirt, but somehow he seems to be the one in better condition. Nami stares at the both and twists the arm in her grip a little bit, yanking it upwards and causing the boy it's attached to to release a high pitched sound of pain.

"Fuck off," she tells the only conscious teenager present in English. He spooks like an electrocuted cat and actually does, turning tail and running away. She feels… Strangely. She can't remember ever feeling like this. So firmly herself that she doesn't actually feel like a person.

"Extreme." The boy says blankly before passing out on the ground like a sack of potatoes. Nami turns to Kyoko, who has both hands clasped over her mouth and tears running down her face, expression full of terrified confusion.

She shifts her feet and kicks the boy she's standing on in the head hard enough to knock him unconscious. Kyoko faints like she was the one Nami had kicked in the head.

Standing in the middle of the courtyard full of unconscious people, Nami kind of wishes she could pass out too. But she's still agonizingly present, a heated flush working its way up her neck and over her face. She looks down at her hands to see that they're shaking ever so slightly. She gets off the boy and then manhandles him until she takes off his jacket, shaking it out and then bunching it up to shove under the white haired boy's head, against his cut. He hisses in his sleep, but doesn't show signs of waking up, so she straightens and leaves.

She's going to go get Hibari. He should know what to do.

* Tamago Kake Gohan is basically raw egg over rice.