The tranquility of the dark apartment was broken by a loud kick to the door and the crash of wood against concrete. A slumped figure dragged itself along the wall and closed the door with the heel of its boots. Ryuko "Matoi" let her bags and keys carelessly fall to the floor as she made the trek to her sofa, ungracefully fighting for her balance. She let out a painful grunt when her bruised, exhausted body fell on the uncomfortable piece of rock she had as furniture. Her fingers clenched and her back arched at the inexplicably hard surface.
From deep within her bowels, in that hot and dark space, came a sudden jolt, a cold wave from her spine. "Ah sh-", Ryuko turned on her side so quickly that her palm made a smacking sound as it slammed on the crystal table that was more decorative than practical. Her neck involuntarily jerked backwards as a mess of sickly colored fluids spilled from her mouth. Ryuko coughed and examined the pool of warm goo, which she noticed to be mostly blood, in front of her; a dribble of thick blood hung from her lip as she tried to calm her breathing, its rhythmic dripping strangely comforting. As her head dipped in midair she wondered if that emptiness, an agonizing emptiness in the most literal sense, was what it felt like to die.
The delicate glass struggled underneath Ryuko's shaking shoulder and fingers, which slowly pushed her back. After somewhat settling in on the white fabric, Ryuko slumped one hand against the cold floor while lazily relaxing the other on her forehead. Her foggy, bloodshot eyes stared tiredly at the moonlit wall above her. Her lips devilishly curled up into a contemptuous smile.
"You see what I've become? I don't need you anymore, you stupid idiot." The ceiling merely held its silence at Ryukos scoff.
"I can wear whatever the hell I want, and it won't be sucking on my blood like some fucking needy vampire. How do you like that?" She grew mad at the lack of response from her sport shirt.
"I don't need your goddamn answer. Not like I can expect much from you, burning off like that." A wry laugh echoed in the expanse of her studio. "You must've been very cheaply made."
Despite the cloud of alcohol weighing down on her senses, Ryuko regretted her words just as a familiar pain started to rise behind her jaw ; she bit down in an attempt to hold it back. "Just like me. Bad enough to be thrown out like fucking garbage." A shaky breath interrupted her. "I hope you're dying with envy."
Ryuko meant to keep cursing by herself but she started to choke on her own crudeness, her eyes swollen by the falling tears. She rolled to her side hugging her chest, trying to hold what was once there.
"Goddamn it, Senketsu," Ryuko started between sobs, "I don't want to wear this. How can this possibly be better? Tell me!"
Curled up in her unwelcoming sofa, Ryuko kept crying until the silence of her empty apartment slowly, ever so slowly, consoled her to sleep.
This chapter tells events that happened in the past, prior to the first chapter. Please have in mind that not all chapters will be in chronological order.