When I arrived at the girl's side, the first thing I noticed was the blood. Tons and tons of blood. Blood spilling from a deep incision in her neck. Blood painting what was once pure white on her blouse. Blood pooling from her wide, wide eyes, still blinking. Blood trailing from the shivering body to the dark interiors of the woods. I come to the realization she had been dragging herself while I searched.
"H-Hey," I try coaxing the girl. She appeared younger than me. Long, tangled blonde spread onto my thighs as I lifted her light, frail head up for easier breathing, wary of her injury. Her frightened, green orbs were darting uncertainly from side to side, delirious with panic. I don't think she even heard me.
I didn't have much time. One hand remained glued to the base of the girl's neck while the other carefully inched to her ghastly wound. The girl was gradually beginning to squirm. In the most delicate way I could muster, I tug her closer to my stomach for more control. The heat my body gives off is soothing to her, and she begins to relax more. Already my skills were going into effect, mending the cruel slit. Who could do such a thing? Was this the work of the Colonel's target?
"It's alright," I whisper, watching her slowly pass her tiny gaze upon me.
She begins to scream.
"Wah?" I choke inaudibly as the girl's hands, small as they were, wrap and constrict against my pulsing throat. Mercilessly, she squeezes. I gag, unable to pull her away without disturbing the healing process and dropping her to the ground. I couldn't stop. If I stopped now then the entire deed would revert back to the way it was originally.
The girl would re-experience her throat being torn open.
"Stah-Aurgh-"
It was just no use. Everything that made its way out weren't even considered words. Just indistinguishable, inhumane splutters.
I had two choices:
Let the girl continue her attack and finish up with her injury, possibly getting killed in the process.
Or:
Let her go. Push her away, and live another day.
"Leave me alone. Leave me alone. Leave me alone," she chants hysterically, her eyes spreading a horrible terror throughout my paralyzed body. This was horrifying. This was no killer that much was clear. Her eyes were too bright. Delusional, but still rich with the purity of a kind soul. She was under some sort of spell. The way she reacted when her eyes fell on my own, I'd assume she had recognized me.
But that's impossible. This girl was definitely not an Aerugo survivor. She had the aura and appearance of someone who lived in the cities for years. She was from Central City. So what was she doing here? And why would she be afraid of me?
I gag, feeling the world begin to sway.
"Don't kill me. Don't kill me. Don't kill me," she continues to chant, changing the lyrics. I can't do it. I have to breathe. Have to…
I move away, gasping for air. Turning around I watch with horror as the girl shakily pushes herself back up, tears flooding her lovely face. There is something sickeningly wrong with how she moves. It's too jerky. There is no fluidness. It was as though she were being possessed. I couldn't move. My eyes glaze over and I just watch her throat rip open and watch her mouth screech out an ear-piercing howl of suffering. The blood was a waterfall of red. Her mouth forming a gaping abyss. Hands flew to her widening mark, and nails dig inside. Knees buckle. Screams grew more animalistic. I had to do something. I had to get up and try again. Save her. Save her! Do something!
"KYAAAAAAAAA! AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!"
Oh god, move. Move! Move!
Finally I did. But I was going in the wrong direction. My legs were a mind of its own and I was running as fast as they allowed. Away. Away from that deranged child. Away into the trees. I was running away.
Turn back. Turn back! Turn back!
Why? Why was I running away? Why wouldn't I go back and at least try saving her?
Just when I thought I'd go insane, running and running and running, I eventually drew to a stop.
I was immortal. I was immortal.
How could I have forgotten something so crucial? That girl couldn't have killed me. I could have stayed at her side, endure the pain as I've always done. Yet for a moment, I actually thought I was just another human. I foolishly hit the flight or fight response. And chose flight.
My feet sprint back in the direction of the girl.
If she's dead it's your fault. It's all your fault. You coward. You left her. You abandoned her. You chose to save yourself of the pain. Your fault. Monster. Monster.
She can't be dead. She couldn't be dead. I could fix this. I could undo the mistake I made!
I was so engaged with my reassurances, I failed to notice the eerie silence. The faded screams. I held to my pleas, feeling my throat closing. Leaves spun around me, branches leapt out at my skin, scratching. Roots threaded in my path. Wildlife fled at my thunderous steps.
Please. Please be alive. Please. Please. Please.
And here I was. Standing above her. Numbly seeing through her. Seeing past her motionless arms, drenched in red. Peering over her stiff, little, oh so terribly petite, waist, splashed in the color I so hated.
I collapse to my knees.
Her face was gazing sideways at me. Her eyes looking so terrifyingly familiar. Green shifts into blue and I'm looking at the girl in white. But this is not her. She was never her and yet…
Corpse. This was a corpse. Minutes ago she was human and alive.
Now she is a corpse.
Dead.
"N-No…" I whisper to the taunting voices in my head. Her accusing gaze is tearing into my mind, invading, rifling through my past, yanking open the files I battle every single moment in my excuse of a life trying to keep closed. The girl is inside my thoughts, reading everything. She's breaking my barriers. She's laughing at my dreams. Laughing at my hopes for redemption. Her fingers are digging into my most treasured memories, disturbing and awakening the most feared. "St-Stop!"
I slam my fist down upon the girl, watching with horror as flecks of blood form along my uniform. Her wound is still gushing red. So much red. It's all over my body, sinking, dissolving, becoming a part of me. More of the girl was attacking my secrets. She was getting her filthy hands all over what's mine.
I black out for…I didn't know. When my eyes open, I'm staring down at a disturbing image. A picture I never intended to create, but did so anyways. I did this. I really did…
Meat. That's all that was left of the girl. That's all I had turned her into.
Rotten.
Disgusting.
Slimy.
Meat.
My eyes water and I jolt to my feet, nearly falling back down again. Blinking rapidly, I shook my head and began to mutter just as she did. My eyes shut.
"Wake up. Wake up. It's not real. Not real. Not real."
When my eyes open, really open, the girl is back. Still deceased, but not as whatever in hell I had envisioned. I was still sane. Still had my sight. I wasn't blind anymore. Truth is still with me.
"AHHHHHHHHHH!"
I snap my head to the source of sound. Another one? This one a… male?
Oh no.
Taking a final glance at the girl, I shook my head, gathering my composure. Then madly, I dash in the direction of the Colonel.
Why was this happening? Who had k-stabbed the girl? I couldn't bear to think 'who killed' her. That had been obvious.
If I hadn't interfered in the first place, then maybe…
No! Stop it! Thoughts like this would not get me anywhere. I had to focus. Focus on the Colonel that I had kept tied to that tree.
Oh god.
What if? What if that was him? What if I had just doomed another life? These hands would have been responsible for two deaths. Two unplanned, accidental deaths.
Not him, please. The girl was a stranger. I felt awful for being responsible for her worsened fate. But this man, bastard as he may be, I knew. For a short period, but still I knew him. I had spoken to him only a few moments ago. I shared a passionate argument for Pete's sake. He came to me and we actually fought. He was an actual challenge. He made me remember what it was like to feel alive. Angry. Upset. All I'd ever known for the longest period of my life was regret. Guilt. Self-loathing. But that man woke me up. Sure he wasn't a close friend or a notoriously kind guy I'd consider falling for. But he was real, dammit. He proved to me that I could change. I could go back to being Fujiin.
He was living proof that I still had human in me.
So don't you dare take him away from me!
In a sudden lunge, I was up in the trees. I leap from branch to branch, uncaring of how much attention I could be drawing to myself. My vision sharpens from my newly acquired determination, and I sense a presence coming nearer.
Whether it was alive was the question.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
Alive, but on the verge of something foul. With a record breaking force exerted on the next landing, I flew forward, oblivious to the marks being left on my skin. I act on impulse. My lips part and I find myself scream.
"ROY!"
As the name flew into the wind and my shoes found homely territory, the impact of exhaustion hit me hard. I stood there, gasping, heaving, and reaching out my violently trembling hands onto bark, holding myself together. With a deep inhale, I dare a glance over at the spot I had trapped him.
Where he still remains stuck, now standing with his wrists raw, staring at me in surprise.
"What?" he asks hesitantly, confusion welling into those living eyes. Those eyes full of knowledge and secrets. Alive. He was still alive. And he was looking at my deranged, relieved expression with even more cluelessness. Catching my breath, I jog over behind him and manually withdraw my dagger, cutting him free. He turns towards me, rubbing feeling into his gruesome hands and I swallow yet another heap of guilt. "What?" he says again, scrunching his face, perplexed.
"N-Nothing," I pant, stepping forward, offering my hand. "L-Let me…see…"
He tries to understand what I mean, observing my palm uncertainly. Then supposedly deciding, what's the harm, he plops one down. In a hasty action, I remove the gloves, noting his surprised but obedient stare, and fold my other unoccupied hand over to sandwich his. Raising a brow questionably, he glances at me then back at our hands, then back at me.
"Don't move," I command and pray, pray he listens.
I frown, sending bits of sparks to circle his wrists, mending, forming, and stitching his cuts. Not being a nasty, fatal infliction, the task was done and over within a matter of seconds. In awe, he pulls his hand away, testing its sturdiness.
I hadn't let the mystery of the killer slip my mind. I would take pursuit after patching him up, seeing as he didn't have any real weapons.
"The other one," I demand, and he nods appreciatively, giving me his other damaged hand. As the healing process took place, he spoke.
"I know you aren't the killer," he murmurs, looking gravely serious, "I'll tell you why later. But now," he pauses to retract his other, fixed hand, "I need to go in and take a look at whoever is causing the commotion over there." His gaze fell over to the direction the screams had been.
Later. So he was hoping there would be a later, another opportunity, to talk to me. For reasons I couldn't really explain, I was content with the possibility.
"Can you mend my gloves?" he asks, bringing me to reality, holding a pair. I shake my head. He flashes disappointment, shoving them back into his pocket. "Alright then. If you could just wait-"
"Or you could just stay here and I'll go check it out," I interrupt, feeling a growing rage within me. This killer would be mine. Impersonating me, no doubt, taking away lives for some twisted reason. Hacking into what I had hoped to be locked away. Harming the girl, which I knew wasn't entirely my fault.
Roy was just about to protest when I shove a couple of my knives, handle first, into his hands. Stunned, he looks at me, asking the question of why I would give him those.
"You're useless without your gloves aren't you?" I ask, taking his flinch of annoyance as a boost to my eager state. "Stay here and wait up. This bitch is mine."
"H-Hey!"
I was already gone, the trees going past my hidden smile in blurs.
Thank you. Thank you.
Who I was thanking, no idea. But I was pretty damn grateful.
It comes to my mind, a little late, that I could have made some use of the Colonel's information. Perhaps he would have been more willing to comply with some tips, but I had no time to turn.
"SOMEONE! PLEASE! GA-GAH!"
The voice was dangerously close. I adjust my mental coordinates, turning slightly to the left, and stopping just before I pass into a very, very open area. Why would this lunatic risk killing the guy in such an exposed space? In broad daylight?
Unless…
At the sight of a figure, standing eerily crooked, I swallow my cowardice and propel out into the field. The man was still breathing. His eyes were wide and startlingly blue. Seeing me, he let out a whimper.
Someone really was going around, pretending to be me. But why?
Then it all clicks. Just in the nick of time, I whirl and deflect a nasty looking blade, sending it off into the trees.
This insane person wanted to entice me out into a more fitting fighting field. And she had used innocents as bait.
A shadow approaches, shifting into a clearer image. Long brunette hair. Gleams in the sunlight with red and blonde highlights. A royal attire: intense blue. And missing a cloak.
I stare at myself, drawing out my blade from the strap on my back. His gift feels perfectly balanced in my hands. A burst of courage fed the rising temperature in my chest. The mirror version of myself mimics my stance, drawing her own blade, copied from my own. My sword. She had made a fake. Of my, our, sword.
"Who are you?" I ask in a loud, menacing shout.
"Who are you?"
The girl laughs, sounding nothing like me. With a mocking curtsy, she performs a couple of twirls with her 'sword', making me stiffen with offense.
"Who am I? Yes, just who am I?"
"Who am I?"
I can't afford distractions. With a mental cleaning, I push away the echoing voices and unintentionally listen to the continuing whines of the boy. The girl tilts in a curious manner, then presses her hand, 'my hand', to her mouth, emitting a giggle.
"You don't think I'm you," she sings, then drops in a mocking depression. The way she seemed so…playful and taunting was unnerving… I draw the hilt of my sword closer.
My heightened senses pick up more visitors. My eyes dart back and forth rapidly. I dare not to turn my back at the crazed, mirrored me. But it was definite. There were two others here. Out of my sight too. Outnumbered.
"Oh," mirrored me sighs, fanning herself, pouting, "You don't remember? How sad. How sad for us." she stumbles forward, skips a couple of steps, giggling at my blade extending in a warning. Thinking about it, her voice sounded somewhat familiar…
"Look at the man! Yes, that pathetic thing behind you whimpering like a pup," she says, giggling louder, darkly. "Beneath his shirt. Look!"
I don't move. My headache worsens. Behind me, the man is silent. Mirrored me cackles, motioning her hands forward.
"Oh, understandable! You don't trust me. Don't worry. Sweet Silia and handsome Haruko will help. Tear the cloth away for our dear guest!"
Cool wind nips at my shoulders from behind and I frantically spin to find the other two intruders eyeing me with petrifying glares. So close. I could see everything spinning in their gazes. So much hatred. It was throbbing in their veins. I knew those stares. The way they towered over me. How did they get here so damn fast? I didn't even hear them move. It was as though they had merely vanished and reappeared at another spot.
It was a girl and boy. The boy, I assume to be Haruko, had a lanky build, but something powerful hid beneath those thin legs of his. A patch of black locks hover just above his pale, blue stare. My heart threatens to crack through rib cages. A distant roar of waves surge into my hearing. My blade feels lighter. How could it protect me from this man? He intimidates me just with his silent nature and those hazy eyes…
The girl proves equally frightening, but in the opposite sense. Leering down at me, her eyes are absolutely alight. There is a dark grudge in there. Those were the eyes of someone who fed and fed and fed those fires, keeping them blazing. Making them grow. This was pure, complete loathing. Silia did not seem sweet at all. But I catch a few details, her necklace and the way her lips are quivering, and I know she had once been that way. Something had changed her. Something had broken into her defenses and started that destruction pounding within her blood. And I'm slowly processing that it was me.
These two are Aerugo survivors.
Before I can say anything, the girl, Silia, raises her hand and strikes at my face in incredible speed. She's seemingly frail and a petite thing, but that single slap, soaked in whatever she had streaming through her heart and lungs, sent me sprawling to the side. It wasn't a matter of being painful, but surprising. Now even further below the two, I gawk, cradling my stinging cheek, watching her face flare the message that she was not yet content.
"Silia, Silia," that impersonator's voice scolds from behind me. "Don't you know we can't play with our friend just yet."
Play? In crazy talk, usually that would suggest torture. However against the idea I am, my speech refuses to cooperate and so I sit, bewildered, watching as Haruko and Silia nod simultaneously at one another and lift their hands in unison. In the same rate I found nearly impossible to track, they slash down at the now unconscious hostage, ripping away his shirt, which I began to notice was flecked in bits of red, and reveal-
No. No. Wake up. This isn't real. Wake up.
But it is. No matter how many times I wince, or blink, or try tearing my gaze away, it is still there. The man's eyes shoot open and he lets out a deafening wail. He does so because of the newly blossoming cuts, dripping down, draining at some of his other, raw openings. Messages scrawled all over his torso. No not messages, names. And it is only one, repeatedly scrapped and torn through this messenger. This messenger boy. Who was sent to deliver these words to me.
"Kaze." "Kaze." "Kaze." "Kaze." "Kaze."
There was only one person who called me "wind". There had only been one girl who teasingly shouted "wind girl" to signal she wanted to talk. There was just the one girl who tagged along for childish pranks and telling ridiculous ghost stories under the stars at night in the marketplace.
"Remember me, now?"
My neck could barely withstand the jerky response. That voice was now painfully familiar. Recognition lit my face and the girl before me starts to smile. Her hair begins to melt away into wisps of gold, shortening to her true, preferable, boyish style. Her eyes swirl into an explosion of gray, raining down to wash away her disguise. Those winds, my stolen ability, dissipates away into her real appearance. Because I know exactly who she is, the illusion shatters. I'm staring at, not myself, but my dearest friend, Naomi.
But Naomi never had this murderous hysteria. Naomi never raised a dagger to my throat. Naomi never smiled like this.
Much like Silia, the Naomi I knew was gone.
"Nao-" I begin, silenced by the insertion of her weapon into my throat.
The stranger cackles, pulling away in an uneven yank, widening the gap and tugging me forward with the force. My mind reels and I have so much to say, but with this hole, I can't choke out a single syllable. Desperately, I lash out my sword, and hit nothing. Naomi, or whatever demon she was, had leapt away an impressive distance, holding her item dearly, transfixed by the droplets hanging at the tip.
My hand shoots straight to my throat, hoping to speed the regeneration rate, but is interrupted by two pairs of swords aiming at my back. I kick my feet forward, pushing away from the earth, and attempt squeezing between the two attackers. With my last second response, I end up saving my organs from impalement, and instead have metal eat past my cloak, threatening to suffocate with my buttoned collar, and into my shoulders.
Biting away a yelp, I quickly reach out to tug away my beloved attire, just barely managing to escape having my throat ripping another inch.
Once I land, hardly on my heels, my wound closes, working on a second layer of skin. It's tender. A single wrong poke could reopen the spot.
It's quiet again.
I risk a momentary glance at the boy and hold in the urge, almost unsuccessfully, to vomit.
His head was missing.
"I've always wanted a toy that could fix itself," Naomi giggles, stretching the corners of her mouth into a mad, delighted grin. "You always did know how to make me smile."
Could I try talking? Was I stable enough? I had to know. What happened? What happened to you, Naomi?
"Naomi," I test, feeling for my wound. Closed tight. "Naomi, what…why?"
Silia and Haruko were at her side, weapons drawn. To my surprise, Haruko's right leg was bent in an odd way. He was adding more weight to his left. Looking at my own sword, I realize there's a hint of blood. I managed to nick him.
Naomi places an arm around Silia's neck, using her for support.
"Eh. Well," she says in a humorous tone, glancing between her allies. "Haruko and Silia were wanting to pay you a visit. I, on the other hand, for a while wanted nothing to do with you. I mean, you did stab me right in the chest and slaughtered my beloved parents, which by the way, wasn't really nice."
She laughs.
"But considering the wonderful friend I am and how much I just missed seeing that beautiful face of yours, I thought, ah to hell with it! And here I am! Surprise!"
There had to be more.
"Are you the killer around these parts?" I ask, hating the way my voice wavered. Naomi's grin deepens.
"Oh yes," she admits proudly, flipping her dagger in circles. "I thought I'd follow in the footsteps of my sweet, Kaze."
I flinch at the name, clenching my jaw. It didn't sound right. Like that title wasn't mine anymore. And even if it was still my name, I didn't want it to be used this way.
"Why?"
"Why?" Naomi mimics, letting go of Silia, who never once reacted. "You'd really like to know?"
I nod, stomach churning. She takes a step towards me, that dagger swinging like clockwork between her fingers. Blood, my blood, marking the grass.
"Well, considering how for some time I sat there, bleeding, dying, just wasting away wondering why? Why would she do this to me? My own best friend? I was a bit, pissed you could say."
She laughs again, approaching at a faster pace.
"Yes," she says, relishing in the flashback, "I wanted nothing more than to find you and do what you did to me. Then as you would lie there in your own blood, I'd find those dear to you, kill them slowly as you watched, just like when I had to see my mother and father die, and then just leave you to your misery. Fading off this planet and drowning in the pits of hell. Eternal pain and suffering as they say."
She squats right in front of me, leaning closely. Her mouth was smiling. Her eyes weren't.
"But then I thought: what if I were in her shoes? Perhaps I'd see the world differently. Maybe, just maybe I could understand what brought on all that death in our hometown from my friend that I had been so stupidly confident would never ever betray me."
I shiver, dreading where this was leading.
"So, I dove right into it. I became you."
The atmosphere was thick. Invisible hands were gripping my ankles, rooting them to the ground. My arms felt like jelly, utterly useless. The sword I thought was invincible now carries the impression of cardboard. Much like earlier, with the girl, I'm afraid. Naomi was a monster. Naomi was a monster because of what I'd done.
She reaches out, traces my recent scars. The marks from the Colonel's sprung trap.
"After that first death, I'll admit, I was terrified. I thought of what a horrible person I was. I asked for forgiveness. I went back to hating you," she says, playing with strands of my hair. "But then came the realization. That addicting, thrilling rush. I took away someone's life just. Like. That."
She yanks away the strands, making me cringe.
"So simple! A life! Gone! Poof! And I just loved it!"
The drying blade of her dagger presses lightly against my collarbone, tracing. I hold my breath. The more she relayed her story, the bigger her pupils seemed to get.
"Then I knew. I just knew I had to see you. I had to thank you. Thank you because I understand. I know what I've been missing. I completely understand why you would do such a thing. The adrenaline! Oh! It just makes you feel so alive!" she exclaims, pushing on the blade with her enthusiasm. I wince, horrified at this woman's cruelty. "Oh, and I of course forgive you."
I am so scared. I'm beyond being frozen with fear. I'm so close to breaking into tears. I can't… This was terrifying. So frightened.
But Ritzu knew Naomi. Ritzu would try to bring her back. I know he would.
"That's- That's never what I intended for you to think," I gasp, trying to pull away from her glinting blade. She doesn't follow. Her eyes crinkle with a hidden surprise. She's in there. Naomi, the real Naomi, is in there.
"Oh?" she interjects, curious. "Do tell me what you really intended then."
"Nothing," I say, watching Silia glare at me in a skin crawling fury.
"Nothing," Naomi echoes, puzzled. I shake my head, growing bolder.
"I never wanted to do what I did," I answer, searching her focused gaze, searching for her thriving humanity. Locked away just like my memories. In order to unlock that door, I had to break open my own locks. "I didn't have a choice. I had lost my sight. I had it stolen from me. I didn't- I never- I never wanted to hurt anyone! If I could just go back, I'd-"
"YOU CAN'T. YOU CAN'T GO BACK."
My eyes widens as her face transforms into a younger girl. Years shed away and I'm looking at a furious fifteen year old Naomi. She's gasping, her knuckles red from the punch she landed at my jaw. There was no mercy. The impact released a loud crack. Haruko straightens in the background, just as stunned as I was. Silia was suddenly uncomfortably close, not as much as Naomi, but near enough for me to see the smirk forming in her storm powered eyes.
I cough, spitting up warm liquid.
Naomi takes a moment to calm down. She's gathering herself back in one piece, trying to shove it back in that door. I couldn't let this happen. Mustering my strength, I give Silia a piercing stare, startling her as a clump of dirt flew into her exposed eyes. Then just before Naomi could see what was happening, I slam my entire body directly into her, knocking her down. My sword was out and on her throat, readying to strike if necessary, which I hope wasn't. Silia, screeching with rage, began to kick at the soil, swiping at her eyes, bring Haruko to her side. This act allowed me to figure out the two were related.
When Silia recovers and Haruko is satisfied by her condition, they charge at me, then freeze at their leader's situation.
Aerugonians. We were loyal to one another. Even in these times.
Naomi groans, fighting to revert to her delusional self. It isn't until I remember her dagger that I notice a burning sensation sinking into the pits of my belly. Grimacing, I convince my mind it's only a stomachache and endure the injury.
"Look," I say, letting droplets splash on her cheeks from my numb, busted lips. "I know I can't go back. You don't think I do? Did you ever come to realize how much I've hated myself these past few, god I don't even remember! I've been living these days in my own personal hell. I thought you, my closest friend, the one who always had my back, were dead. Yes, I did betray you. I hurt you, badly. Physically and mentally. But that only devastated me. Do you know how many times I've tried to end my life? What happened in Aerugo was terrible. A nightmare I'd gladly wake up from at any moment."
I pause, noting a single, clear droplet.
"I wasn't in the right place of mind. There were some complications. There was-"
"You're immortal," Naomi spat, hardening.
"Y-Yes," I confirm.
Then I was swept back, and I was the one being pinned down. A thin line marked her neck, fresh. Her blade dug deeper. I gasped, immobilized. Silia was at my side immediately, and she had taken away my weapon, my sword.
"You're immortal," Naomi repeats, twisting the handle lodging under my ribs. A spasm runs through me and I let out a cry. "You bitch. You horrible, horrible bitch. You did all of that for immortality?"
No. No, no, no. That's not it. She was making assumptions. No!
"N-No!" I sputter, folding my hands around that stone-hard grip. A mist of blood escapes with a cough. "I never even kn-"
"I'll kill you," Naomi murmurs shakily, pressing down harder. "I'll rip out the stone from your body and kill you."
She can't. She can't because there is no stone.
"Listen to me!"
"No!" she screams, laughing. I was losing her. "I came here to deal with you and that's what I'm going to do! There can't be more than one Wind Goddess!"
A burst of wind crushes my esophagus, clogs my nose. I frantically reach forward and cling to her throat. I couldn't just sit here and let her do this to me. I wanted-
I wanted to get back to the Colonel.
I never wanted to hurt anyone. I despised guns. I hated war. I detested the scent of death.
But more than anything, I loathed pain.
So with a reluctant burst of momentum, the tip of my finger found the opening in the slit I left on her, and forced its way inside, clawing.
As though electrocuted, the girl shot backwards, screaming, covering her bruising throat. On cue, the two others lunge at me, snatching pieces of my waist as I pour into an evasive technique. Silia holds two swords, one which was mine. Swinging forward, she misses completely, unfit to hold a weapon created only for me. The weight throws her off, and she stumbles, leaving me the opportunity to skid by and reclaim my prize. Haruko, reading my attempt, makes his way in just as I've pointed the tip to Silia's hip, slipping his own sword into my leg, passing cleanly through. With a sharp cry, I quickly command my hand to find the handle of the dagger still resting in my stomach, pulling it out and hitting the boy with a returning blow to his already harmed leg. I make sure to keep a tight grip, tugging it out to prevent him from using it against me in the future. Weaponless, he collapses to his only functioning leg, gritting his teeth. Outraged, Silia clasps onto my shoulders, her own sword raising up and in towards my chest. With a flick of my wrist, she's blown off, colliding shoulder first into a recovering Naomi.
The two tumble into the dirt, and I take the chance to pull out the sword in my leg. Wincing, I stumble forward, reaching out a hand to catch my fall. Slowly my wounds begin to close. Quickly Naomi rises to her feet, clothing stained, cackling.
"Amazing! Amazing!" she shouts, stepping over Silia gasping for air. "Ever the performer! Incredible speed!"
She claps, then vanishes.
"But can you really keep up with me?" she whispers into my ear.
I can't keep up with her. Her hand passes straight into my chest, smashing my heart. No scream pours out. I'm unable to comprehend what happened. My body goes into shock.
She pulls out her bloodied hand, shoves me to the floor, flicking away excess liquid. Then to my horror, she casually brings her slender fingers to her mouth and licks, like a goddamn cat.
I cough, gagging. Gone. Naomi is long gone.
"Salty," she says with a teasing repulsion. "You have the blood of normal, could just kick the bucket any day, human."
Groaning, I compel myself to at least sit up. The effort hurts like hell, but at least I was getting somewhere.
She watches me, tilting her head with fascination.
"I'm certain I hit your heart, Kaze."
"Stop…calling…me that," I exhale weakly. She had hit my heart. And it was indescribable, the pain. But in the past I had stopped this damn thing several times and lived to tell the tale. I glance up at her blank face, then find myself forming a crooked smile.
"Kaze, I'm hurt. Isn't it supposed to be your nickname? And sweetie, have I said something funny?"
Her tone is mockingly innocent and I left out a single laugh. Bringing my palm to my motionless heart, I summon up a wave of electricity, restarting its irregular pumping.
"You…You know I've died so…so many times," I reply, crawling back up, "I'm not sure who… I am…anymore."
Naomi's grin fades, leaving a withering look. "What sort of shit are you spewing," she growls, pulling forward to grip the fabric on my attire. She shakes me angrily, spitting with her loudening voice. "You've never died. Because of your little massacre, you can live forever! So don't you dare tell me Kaze died! Because she's standing right here!"
I blink, astonishingly, noting her changed personality. Back to the original Naomi. But the way she referred to Kaze as a different person. Was she at war with herself?
Her grip slackens. I stand, clutching at my beating heart. She looks lost. She's begun to process what she said.
"You…are Kaze," she seems to try convincing herself, burying her face in her tainted palms. Her mind is in turmoil. I don't know how much she can take. I really damaged the girl.
"Naomi," my tone comes out softly. I'm walking on eggshells now. One wrong word and she'll disappear again. "Right now, I-"
I take a deep breath.
"I'm not Fujiin."
She flinches, raising her glassy stare to settle on my grim expression.
"Back in Aerugo. On that day," I continue, trembling, "That also was not… Fujiin."
"Liar!" she yells, shaking her head vigorously. "Kaze killed Mom and Dad! Kaze hurt me! Kaze is fighting with me right now!"
"Naomi!" I exclaim furiously, "Wake up! Remember! Do you recall Kaze ever being the type of person to do something so horrible as to commit a murder? Really remember the times before the incident!"
She sinks her nails into her hair, digging, remembering. I take a step forward, pleading for her to open her eyes.
"And as of now? I'm not fighting you," I say a bit more quietly, lifting my hands in surrender. "Look at me."
She did.
"I'm not Kaze. Not at this moment."
She whimpers. I smile sadly, willing her to stay focused.
"I'm so tired of hurting people. I'm so tired of having to face familiar faces with looks that deal as much damage to me as a dagger."
A tear slides down Naomi's face. She ignores it, her hands remaining buried in her bright, summery hair.
"But most of all, I'm tired of being so confused. I've been wondering for days whether or not I was the same person. I've dealt with nights of wondering whether everything that happened actually happened. I've asked myself over and over: am I alive? I'm just a walking corpse, Naomi. I've just been breathing. But never actually living."
I pause to extend my hand. She looks at it with a tornado of emotions. She looks so fragile, I'm afraid she will break. I want to go back. I want to go back to the way things were.
"But with your help…Maybe we can bring the old Fujiin, Kaze, back."
Haruko remains on the ground, listening. His ocean eyes don't seem so menacing. Silia sits, watching, unmoving. The trees seem to lean forward, awaiting her answer. The wind dies down to a dull push. Naomi stares at my gesture. She's contemplating. She's really considering it. Just the fact that she's trying brings hope into my eyes. I see us going back to jokes and games. I see us crying together and promising never to leave each other's sides. I see an actual future with light.
I see her reach out to take my hand.
But she keeps going.
Past my offer and to my other hand clutching the knife.
I'm so foolish to let her take it.
I'm an idiot for believing she would toss it aside.
I'm so naïve thinking this could still turn out for the better.
"I'd prefer her to remain dead."
She lifts the blade, sunlight beaming along its surface, blinding me, and I wait for the pain once again.
It comes.
The pain comes in as a gust of wind, stealing every ounce of breath I had.
Her heart stops and I know she can't restart it.