Merle stacked identical cans in a box. There was noise- people speaking- all around, but she didn't pay it any heed. The voices lifted hazily like static in her ears, the comments becoming nothing intelligible.
Why am I here? Merle suppressed a yawn. It's too early in the morning for this.
The day before
"Still bad," Merle said somberly. Large purple bruises covered her entire back, trailing up to her neck as well as her shoulders. It looked like a Dead-Color had completely thrashed her. Most people when they fell down the stairs ended up with broken bones or bruises in places that couldn't be hid. She should consider herself lucky. However, it was hard to. Just looking at them reminded her of the embarrassing act.
Merle shuffled her shirt and vest on before heading out the door. As it clicked closed, another sounded beside. Looking to the left she met Meena's eyes. There was a slight pause before the shorter girl was booking it down the hall. Merle couldn't even call out to her, not that she'd want to, before she disappeared down the stairs.
The last couple of mornings had been like this. Not just the mornings, but every time the two ran into each other.
I'm the one who should be running… Merle continued to the first floor as if nothing had happened. It was odd how often the two ran into each other. Merle vaguely remembered her saying they shared a few classes, but to be in three of them? And share she same lunch? What were the odds?
Sitting at an empty table, she started her breakfast. It was spent in silence as always. No fake smiles shared with the other kids at the dorms, no kids fighting over spaces, no one asking if the table was free. Something like a blanket fell heavily around her shoulders, a phantom weight that dragged her physically and emotionally downward. The world seemed distant and cold; too quiet.
The spoon was dropped in the barely touched oatmeal. Merle was not hungry.
The Calculus classroom was half full by the time she made her way in. Many of the kids were receiving tutoring while Mrs. Floyd clicked through a power point explaining the previous lesson. Merle sat in the back, quietly listening. As time dragged slowly on, more students trickled in.
The warning bell rang, cutting off Mrs. Floyd. She gave an exasperated sigh and pulled away from the screen. "Alright, hurry up if you don't want to be late." Half the students left, hurrying to their actual class. "And the rest of you pull out your homework, we're going over the last three questions."
A few seconds before the final bell rang Meena ran in.
"Almost late again," Mrs. Floyd said.
"But not!" Meena smiled brightly.
"But not," she conceded. "Now take a seat and try not to disrupt class this time."
The only seat open was the one in front of Merle. Meena eyed it warily, looking up to her. Merle couldn't understand the look, instead of trying to decipher it she glanced to her notebook.
There was a long pause before the seat creaked.
Between the students there was a different atmosphere. The kids near the window were living in idealistic bliss while those near the doors sat in suffocating tension. The boy in the row over kept glancing over to the two, but ultimately never voiced his concern. Mrs. Floyd taught on as if nothing was happening. She was the type of teacher who taught on no matter what happened behind her back.
The lesson ended slowly; a tapering thought cut off by the bell. Most of the students had already finished packing, their bags slung around their shoulders. Mrs. Floyd was a starch believer of 'the teachers dismiss you, not the bell', but today simply waved them out. "Have a good day, don't forget your homework."
Merle let the students file out while putting her belongs away. Just as she put her journal away, Mrs. Floyd called out. "Merle can you come here?"
She knows my name? There was just a hint of surprise as she stopped before the large, wooden desk. "Stop glaring, it's nothing bad." She wasn't glaring. "I just wanted to tell you that your new grade will be posted at the end of the day." Mrs. Floyd turned back to her computer; an ancient hulking beast that looked like it belonged in an old sci-fi. "Don't be surprised if it doesn't raise much."
Merle could only nod. The next bell would be ringing soon so she left in a hurry. Why won't it raise much, I turned in all my missing work. The thoughts followed like a cloud as Merle made her way across campus. They felt heavy as if she shook her head they would fall.
Merle almost walked straight past her class, so deep in contemplation. The door was already closed which was odd. She opened it to see her teacher standing at his podium. "You're late. Get a tardy slip," he said. Late? When did the bell ring? Most of the desks but the ones in the back were filled. Her classmates stared with bright eyes.
She opened her mouth to voice the opinion, but the words quickly died in her throat. Backing out from the room, head bowed to avoid the looks from the other students, Merle dragged her way towards the office. Down the empty halls she could feel their eyes crawling along her skin. Don't look at me… Eyes seemed to pop out from behind the walls, raking her figure as she made her way to the office. As she passed the doors, even more gazes followed. Nausea built up in her throat.
By the time she made it back to class the first assignment had already been passed out. She sat in the back, the only one occupied in the row, and went to work.
One, two, three- Clancy huffed, her breath becoming mist in the cold air. She sat up, chest barely touching her knees before she was down, back flat against the cold tiles. Her body complained, threatened to give out- did once or twice, but Clancy continued till she reached twenty before collapsing in a heap of gasps and strained muscles.
She could only sit around and lose time counting patterns in the ceiling for a short while. Instead, she started doing sets of sit ups and pushups until reaching 30. It wasn't much, less than what the beginning cadets would do, but it was all her body could manage.
All for staying sane.
All for staying warm.
Unfortunately, winter in the Land of Canvases was in full swing. Cold radiated through the walls and filled the lonely halls. Her one blanket was not enough to block out anything; not even a simple breeze. Nights were rough- rougher to not only wake up because nightmares but because her body was frozen. Not to mention the fact it'd been three days since anyone had spoken to her.
Winters were always Clancy's least favorite time of the year. Practice had cemented the hate early on in life. Morning training had been held outside no matter the weather. Many of the cadets had left during the winter, unable to take the harsh training in the below freezing temperatures. The official cures didn't feel the cold, their transformations keeping them in top shape.
You call that a run? I've seen babies crawl faster than that! Cure Sienna would taunt the stragglers, running miles in the time they'd finished a single lap.
Try and hurry, Cure Lilac would smile, lips painted as purple as her hair.
Clancy turned on her stomach and got in position. By the fifth pushup she couldn't feel her fingers. The cold crept like frost up her limbs, reaching closer and closer to her heart.
I'll treat the first cadet to finish 100 pushups to a date, Cure Indigo would say, as serious as always. No one got to 100, much to their displeasure. Only 10? You're terrible, Clancy could hear Indigo as she heaved for air.
No one wants to date you, Cure Citrine would grin. She'd do the exercises with the cadets; the only one to do so. Was it a show of faith? No one ever figured out why. And no one ever would, they were all gone: dead. Clancy stopped exercising. No… they weren't dead… just asleep like the citizens.
"Dead." Someone whispered. "And you ran."
Clancy snapped her neck, looking for who had spoken. No one was in sight. The iron bars bit into her skin like a knife's edge. Even so, Clancy leaned forward and searched for any one; any sign of a presence being there.
Her hands were red with exhaustion when pried from the bars. Clancy curled them tight feeling her nails bite into the too red skin.
By the time classes ended, Merle felt drained enough to fall asleep at the desk. She dragged herself across campus and into an awaiting, cold bed. All the anger and distress seeped into the room as her body slumped down, missing the bed. There was no energy left to care. The floor felt cool anyways.
"Today sucks…" Merle mumbled into the wooden planks. "Let it end." To not be tardy to not one, but two classes? And spill lunch across her vest? Small little disasters of that sort were peppered throughout the day. For now, she'd just lay on the floor. Or would have if her back didn't start protesting.
Merle was consumed with thoughts for the next hour. She sat at her desk with a new workbook. The old one had been shoved into the closet, half filled. Every time Merle saw it, a flood of emotions she couldn't understand would splinter inside, threatening to consume with an intensity that scared her. Clancy's hands and smile seemed imprinted in the pages. It was just too much to deal with. Thus, it got the closet treatment, the same as all her old robots.
Merle tapped her pen against the blank page, no new ideas coming forth. She'd given up on her previous project, not finding the energy to finish it. On a regular day, she wasn't able to put what she pictured onto the paper. Today not even a single line was drawn. Inspiration was a fickle mistress, one that Merle found she did not want ruling her life. The dinner bell rang shrilly in the distance, echoing slightly. Merle sighed and shoved the notebook away. It was pointless to have it out if it wasn't going to be used.
Warmth drifted down the halls along with the smells of freshly made food. Already, a short line of casually dressed students wound around the opposite side of the lunch room. Even more were sitting spread out along the large wood tables.
"There you are." Merle jumped and turned, almost slamming into the person in front of her. Sylvia was standing behind, arms crossed. Instead of the usual uniform, she was wearing a light green sweater, a collared shirt pocking out beneath, and jeans. "I need to talk to you."
"…Why…" Merle avoided meeting her eyes, instead staring at her feet.
"Meena told me you've had… a misunderstanding." Not the sentence she expected. "And it's been bothering her so I would like to get this all straightened out." Although she smiled no warmth could be felt. Sylvia was as cold as the December-ish air outside.
"I… don't understand," Merle spoke slowly. "What misunderstanding?"
"Huh?" Sylvia uncrossed her arms and placed them on her hips. "What do you mean? Haven't you realized she's been avoiding you?"
Merle wasn't dense, of course she noticed it. It'd be hard to when she was going right in front of her face. That didn't mean the two had a misunderstanding however. It only meant that Meena was avoiding her. What was with students and making hills out of ant mounds? When she didn't speak, Sylvia sighed and shook her head.
"Can you sit with us at dinner tonight? Meena's been really bothered by whatever happened between you two and I think it'd be good to fix whatever… happened." She peered to the side, eyes scanning the students. Compared to last week, there was a liveliness that wasn't present last week. Laughter rose, fizzing up and biting the lips of students.
I don't understand at all. Merle frowned and crossed her arms as if hugging herself. If she sat with them, it would just be awkward. The others were friends and easily dissolve into conversations only they understood. Not only that, but it would be a bother for them to try and include her. Their eyes would stare, slick against her skin as she once more did not understand.
"I…" Merle spoke slowly, taking a long breath. "I don't think I should. Sorry."
Even declining made her feel empty, like a bottomless pit opened directly underneath her heart.
"Are you sure?"
Merle didn't answer.
There was an awkward silence, something that Merle was beginning to notice followed her around like a rain cloud. Not that she understood why it followed her. What did it matter, it only made people leave faster. Something she should be grateful for.
"Don't think you're being a bother Merle. I really do want to eat dinner with you, without Meena and that whole situation. It has to be lonely eating alone every time we gather here." Her eyes softened. "I'm sorry for springing this up on you at the last second too."
Lonely? Of course not. Merle liked the silence. Was fine eating alone. So why, when she shook her head and retreated to a faraway table, did it feel like something was eating at her? Dinner was spent in silence, deeper than it had ever felt before.
The next morning, Merle awoke to gentle sunlight. The pillow was slightly damp, her curls splayed like an ocean across the bedspread. She sat up slowly, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. The world was still fuzzy; reality a far off haze. A quick glance at her phone and Merle found that it was nine in the morning. On a Saturday. With a low mumble, she laid back down to go back to sleep.
Or at least tried to.
There was a noise that seemed to come from the wall. Merle sat up, the cold morning air hitting her skin and freezing instantly. She leaned against the wall, plaster like ice against her cheek. It wasn't scratching, that was for sure. It sounded… more like a hammer or rocks hitting each other. Faint music came from the wall, or room, as well. Piano and… chanting? Latin?
Weird… Merle pulled away, her cheek cold. She rubbed it before settling back into bed. But the noise grew louder. No, now that she was more aware of it, it seemed to become louder. Her ears strained to listen despite her brain trying to rest for a minute longer.
She wasn't going to get any more sleep.
With a grumbled sigh, Merle reluctantly stepped out of bed. The rug was cold and prickly against her feet as if winter had frozen it. While her dorm was one of the newer ones, it was still old. The heating was abysmal at best and drafts could be felt throughout the rooms. She slipped into some jeans and a hooded jacket before stepping out the room. Just as she did so, there was another door closing. Just like yesterday, Meena too was stepping out her room.
"Ah…" A little noise escaped her mouth. But, she didn't run off like before. Apparently, that phase was over. "H-Hey there." She rose a gloved hand. Gloved? It wasn't even that cold out.
Merle inclined her head, but didn't give a verbal reply.
"Cold out, right?" Her foot worked circles into the flooring.
"Meena…" Merle started. She didn't know what the next words would be; mind drawing a blank. Why did she call out anyways? Should she run back to the safety of her dorm? Don't you ever get sick of running? You're pathetic… Her hand clenched into a fist. "I'm sorry." Default words. Words that had lost their meaning a long, long time ago.
"Sorry? No. No, no, no! You're not supposed to be sorry!" Meena sprung forward and directly into her personal space. Merle tried to back away, but the shorter girl had grabbed her wrists. She squeezed them, eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I've been avoiding you and that must have made you feel awful even though I'm the one who feels awful! Even if I apologized for causing you to fall that couldn't be enough to get your forgiveness! But I suck at cooking even though Sylvia said to bake you an apology cake and I didn't want to buy you one 'cause it's not sincere and-"
Did this girl never stop talking? Merle tried to pay attention, but it was hard. Her brain was a nonstop rush of: she's touching me- stop touching me. Breathe. Take a deep- stop touching me! The pleas were trapped.
"-so do you want it?"
That was a question. Merle looked up, instantly regretting so. Meena's mouth was pulled into a thin line, her eyes searching for any sign of forgiveness in Merle's. What was there to forgive? The incident was days ago. It was an accident. As the silence grew so did the crestfallen look on her face. She pulled back slowly, hands falling away from Merle's wrists. Vainly, her lips moved, trying to form a syllable. The silence grew further.
"Haha… that's what I get… sorry. I really didn't mean to make you mad."
Mad? Merle wasn't mad. She didn't even understand what was going on. Reaching a hand out, her fingers barely grasped the edge of Meena's sleeve before hesitating. Hesitation. It was all it took. The sleeve was out of reach, trapped behind the door.
Huh?
There was nothing else to do except stare. Meena wouldn't be coming back out and Merle was not going to knock. Instead, she stepped back and left, deciding to forget the conversation and move on. At least, that's what she figured she'd do. Descending the steps, thoughts one by one began to plague her mind. Why didn't I grab her sleeve? Another step down. What would I have said if I did? Another step. I don't understand…. Step. Step. Step. Thought. Thought. Thought.
The cold winter air buffeted Merle as she walked out. It didn't snow in Blackwell, but the clouds looked ready to lean down and weep. They hung heavy and dappled, blanketing the entire sky in gray. The outside world was gray- thankfully not gray-scaled- and muted. Merle's breaths hung in the air as she walked, hands in pockets. It was far from a quiet walk.
The thoughts grew in the shadows of her steps.
What does Meena think of me? That I can't listen? Or I'm always angry? That I hold onto grudges no matter what?
Merle stopped walking.
I should have said something. Not an apology… but something…
Why did she even care? Meena was the one avoiding her, not the other way around. She continued onwards, feet stabbing into the ground.
I couldn't have done anything different. She doesn't even like me… why should I care for someone like her? The conversation, if it could be called so, couldn't have happened any other way. Especially when it was sprang up on her like so. The two weren't friends. Why did it matter if Meena was avoiding her? It didn't. None of it mattered.
It wasn't like she'd like me anyways.
Merle was too absorbed in her musings, barely acknowledging the fact she was leaving campus. The buildings were sleepy, barely opening. In the gloom the shop lights were long rectangles cutting into the sidewalks. Cars drove languidly down the street, only stopping when hitting a red light. A never ending row of cars.
Passing the area she'd fought a Dead-Color with Clancy, Merle finally stopped. A large mural was painted along the side. A cartoonish octopus fought many sea creatures. Coral and other reef like designs covered the edges. Merle stood across the street, searching for any life behind the painting. Maybe if she stared long enough it would peel off the bricks once more.
There was not much to do. After an hour of wandering 'downtown' as the series of shops were dubbed, Merle had succumbed to boredom. The sky was still a blanketing gray. The cold still cut through in whipping winds. Merle was used to the quiet now. Used to the passive buildings in the academy. Unlike in the academy, there was life in the city however. Laughter and smiles were exchanged down the sidewalks. Small talk rang out like shots. More than once, someone called out to Merle a sharp hello. Of course there was no reply.
It wasn't until another hour that Merle found the trailing end of a crowd. Tarps of multiple colors were lined down the next street. A chaos of voices filled the air. There wasn't a festival today, was there? Certainly not one for art. If it was all the streets would be closed. It seemed the only thing Blackwell loved was art. Buildings filled their walls with doodles, encouraged customers to add on. There were free, designated spots that allowed graffiti artists to create. Murals filled the large bricks outside many shops.
It was the reason it was dubbed the capital of art.
It was probably the reason the Land of Canvases liked this place. Or at least, Merle thought so. It couldn't be coincidence that Clancy showed up here with the Pigments in tow.
Better avoid it, she was going to continue another way. Or at least until she bumped into someone. The woman let out a little noise like the beginning of a word before hitting the ground. The papers- flyers, she was carrying were scattered against the asphalt.
"Sorry." Merle backed away.
"Oh you're fine darling, I wasn't watching where I was going." She gave a wink before sitting up. Vivid green eyes shone between long, black bangs that draped across the woman's nose. Her black hair continued down the sides of her face and across her willowy shoulders like a stain of ink. She knelt forward and started gathering the scattered papers. Some had already blown away, finding their homes in the gutters. It was only right that Merle helped. She was the one who caused them to fall after all.
Food drive marathon. Bright blue words were punched across the top of the paper. Pictures of canned goods and cooked meals filled the rest of the page. So that's what was going down. The woman accepted the papers gratefully. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She had an accent, giving the words a breathy release. It reminded Merle of something, but she couldn't place it.
"Hey, are you doing anything else right now?"
Why does she want to know?
"You see, we were supposed to have some other volunteers out here, but they totally flaked! Can you believe that?" It was not hard to picture at all. Even so, Merle dutifully shook her head and began to back away.
"I'm… busy…" The words were difficult to get out.
"Oh, is that so." The woman's face fell, her body slumping forward. "Well, you can't blame me for trying."
Was there a clean exit from this conversation? Merle slightly backed up again, eyes avoiding the entire area around the strange woman.
"Hey, are you done passing those papers out yet?" A sharp voice. Sylvia barely paused, regarding Merle before turning back to the woman. "Why don't you continue further down?"
It was not a request.
The woman nodded her head, gave a blinding smile and went on her way.
"Merle." Sylvia turned to her. "What are you doing out here?"
Her eyes were locked onto the gravel. It was far more interesting than Sylvia. A shrug of the shoulders, a small noise at the back of the throat. It was all she could give.
"You… aren't here to volunteer are you?" Something crept into the dorm manager's voice, making it slightly shake. No, Merle shook her head. "Oh." Was that… disappointment?
It's not like I could help, I don't have anything to offer. And it wasn't like Merle could stand having the crowd stare at her. What if something went wrong and they blamed her? Or someone started shouting at her? No. Merle would die before that happened.
"Thanks for helping Olive out."
Another shrug.
"Meena was supposed to come, but she suddenly said she didn't feel well." It was an innocent enough comment. One might say something similar when making small talk. It didn't feel like small talk. Merle felt a proverbial gun against the back of her head. "When I asked more about it she stopped replying."
Was Sylvia saying this on purpose? To torment her? Because Merle was the cause of this sudden illness? It sure felt like it. The gun was clicked, digging deeper into soft skin. Next would be the actual accusation.
"I'll fill her place." The words were hoarse, said before Sylvia could accuse. Merle couldn't drag her gaze up from the ground. The expression on Sylvia's face would remain a mystery, not that she'd be able to decipher it even if she saw.
"Are you sure? We do need volunteers, but if you're busy-"
"I'm not," Merle interrupted. First Sylvia says all those things about Meena to make her feel guilty, then she tried to play it off?
"I mean, this just doesn't sound like you, to offer to volunteer like this." What would Sylvia know about her? She's not wrong, you never help others. Not unless you're forced into it. That ugly whisper tickled the inside of her brain. Unless you're Cure Aero. Because then it's easy to solve your problems with fists instead of words, isn't it?
"Just…" Merle took a long breath, sucking in the frigid air. It hurt, the cold festering inside. "Let me… help."
Merle finished the final box. It was filled to the brim with cans. Many of the other volunteers seemed to be finishing as well if not already done. The food drive had died down a while ago, leaving only stragglers behind. The entire time she'd been in the back sorting cans. It was a simple job that didn't require her to talk to anyone. A bit of winter clung to the cans' edges, cutting into her fingers each time she lifted them. After the first hundred she got used to it.
"Hey? Still here?" Sylvia poked her head into the room. There was only one person the words would be directed to. Even so, Merle did not reply or look up. "Hey?" Sylvia ducked into her line of sight. Like every other time the girl had snuck up on her, Merle gave an involuntary jolt.
"I'll walk with you back to campus, okay? It's getting pretty late and well, you know how winter is."
So you can guilt trip me more? No thanks.
"I'm fine." Merle exited the room, taking a note from Meena's book and trying to split the second she saw Sylvia.
Colder winter air softly blew through the city's streets. A shiver ran up her spine, spreading to the tip of her fingers and toes. Night was barely settling in, a smoky gray film stretched thin over a sunset painting. There were no stars. No streaking bursts of light through the clouds.
Sylvia huffed, a thin stream of air exiting her thin lips as she followed. "Come on, it's late and I don't want anything bad to happen to you while you're spaced out." Spaced out? I don't… space out… A small frown formed. Why would she say I space out?
There was no arguing with Sylvia. It was like talking to a brick wall.
The anxious feelings that would buzz at the back of Merle's head when she usually walked was unnervingly quiet, or as quiet as it ever was. Silence was a friend as always, keeping any conversations under lock and key. It was about when the two were half way back that Sylvia slowed.
"How… do you feel about the campus these days?" An innocent question, a gentle probing.
It's quiet which is fine by me.
"Don't you think it's weird? With the way the faintings have been occurring?" No. Because faintings never happened to her. She was both the cause and the ending to them. When she didn't answer, Sylvia slowed even further. There was a small grating noise as her sneakers dragged against the pavement. "Do you care that all the students gone?"
Merle stopped.
Did she? The empty lunch room, the empty halls, they were finally quiet. Merle didn't have to avoid a bunch of gaggling girls on the stairs every morning. The fighting for the fields between the clubs had died. How could there be clubs if there weren't students? Do… I miss them at all?
"I…" Merle started. No matter how much introspection she did, no answer would come. The opinions were all knotted together and she didn't care to untangle them. "I don't know."
Sylvia's eyebrows pulled together. She shuffled her hands in her pockets and kicked at the pavement. "You don't know? Hmm, should have expected as much."
A lamppost flickered to life above, a bright ray of light illuminating her figure. Night was quickly descending, blanketing the entire town. Accompanying it was a drop in the temperature. Even so, Sylvia was rooted to the spot.
"You know, I figured my jobs would get easier with all the kids gone." Sylvia ran her hand along the seam of her jacket. "I'm on disciplinary duty as well as dorm management and student council." She smiled, though it was force. It was easy to tell, Merle was a master at them. "But, more problems keep cropping up. It doesn't make sense."
Was Sylvia fishing for help again? Using a different tactic than before? It didn't seem right. But, no matter how Merle tried to pin what she was saying, it wouldn't stick. She wants help? No, why would she want help from me.
Does she want… me to listen?
Sylvia bounced lightly on her heels, a thousand yard stare adorning her face. In a way she reminded Merle of Clancy. Both had blonde hair, both were short. And standing there, gaze distracted, Merle's heart gripped painfully. It was the look Clancy would get when thinking of her home. Although, compared to the dorm manager it was magnified a thousand times.
Did she want someone to listen to her? Like how Merle offered to listen to Clancy when she was hurt?
"You… really care," said Merle. The words were out before she could stop them.
There was a long pause before Sylvia answered. "Yeah, the academy's my home." She bounced on her heels once more before stepping forward. "It's getting late, let's go."
They almost made it back to the academy without incident. Almost. The campus was a stone's throw away when Sylvia stopped.
"Do you hear that?"
Merle shook her head.
"That… crying? You don't hear it?" Crying? At this hour? Sylvia started forward, leaving Merle to follow. Before the gates sitting on the curb was a young girl. Her head was leaned against her knees. Small, sniffling noises escaped from her figure. A large duffle bag lay beside her, top thrown open exposing the contents. Clothes were haphazardly thrown inside, not folded properly. At the top was Blackwell Academy's uniform.
With no hesitation, Sylvia sat next to the girl. "Hey, are you okay?" The young girl's head shot up at the sound. "I'm Dorm B's manager, Sylvia. Is there something I can help you with?" There was no coldness nor hardness to Sylvia's voice. She spoke soothingly and softly. It felt like lace was falling around Merle's ears.
"I'm-" The girl sniffled, almost rubbing at her dripping nose with her sleeve before Sylvia offered a napkin from her purse. She blew her nose sounding like a tiny trumpet. "I'm from dorm C." Dorm C, more commonly referred as 'Children's dorm'. Not only because it housed all the younger elementary students and middle school, but because it started with a 'c'.
"Okay, what's going on? Why are you crying alone out here in the dark?" Sylvia asked.
"I'm not crying," the girl argued weakly. "I just have bad allergies…"
A poor excuse if Merle had ever heard one. "Okay, well it's dark out and it's dangerous, especially with what's going on right now." The faintings. The school was enforcing a stricter lights out rule because of them. Not that it would help. Sylvia stood and offered a pale hand. "How about I walk you back to your dorm." Her eyes met Merle's briefly. "If that's cool with you?"
Was the question directed to her? Merle couldn't answer, still reeling at how easily Sylvia had sat and talked to this mysterious girl. How could she just sit and talk with no forethought? And not only that, but offer to help? Merle would have chocked before a syllable could get out.
The girl shook her head rapidly before reburying her head between her knees. "No! I'm not going back to that dorm!"
"Is there something wrong with your dorm?"
The girl didn't answer. Or if she did, the answer was swallowed by her knobby knees.
"Are you having problems with your roommate?" Sylvia asked, leaning forward. Her brown eyes were trained on the small girl's shaking shoulders. More muffled cries filled the air followed by thin intakes of air. "You know, if you're having any problems, us dorm managers will do all in our power to help, right?" She knelt down and rubbed her quaking back. "Even if you think no one can help."
"She… she's really mean." A tiny, quivering voice finally answered. "She takes my stuff and hides it. She threw one of my books away too." Her head dragged up, skin blotchy and red beneath tears. "I hate her."
Another reason why Merle never wanted a roommate. Seeing this young girl, she couldn't be older than nine, crying on the curb could have easily been her. And what would have Merle done? Probably nothing. Just let the days roll on while her stuff was steadily destroyed.
"Hate her… have you tried talking it out?" Sylvia asked. "Or even going to Cassie, your manager?"
"Talk?"
"Yeah," Sylvia said. She stood and extended her hand out. "How about instead of running away, we go get this settled. It wouldn't be much to sleep out here anyways," she said lightly. The girl took the hand, grabbing her duffle bag with the other. Her blotchy cheeks went red.
"I wasn't going to run…"
"You're sitting on the curb with a duffle bag." Finally remembering that Merle was there, she looked back. Her eyes widen then flew to her feet, cheeks going as red as the girl's. "Merle, do you-"
"I'm… leaving." Merle vaguely gestured to where her dorm was before walking past the two and onto campus. Sylvia called out to her, but Merle did not look back.
How was she able to do so? To talk so easily? Her shoes thumped over the winding stone path to the dorm. Merle was at a loss for words. Was at a loss for thoughts. To just sit and talk. Such a simple action, but the way she had made it look so easy. Can… other people do that? Just sit and talk? Know instinctively what the other is feeling? Sylvia had asked questions, gently guiding the girl to the answers she wanted. It was… devious? Manipulative?
No. She just wanted to help.
Merle stopped walking. A cold breeze blew through, but it was hardly felt. Had Merle been wrong about Sylvia? Was she really as cold as she thought?
'The academy's my home' Sylvia had said. Would someone who was cold and callous say something like that? Of course not. Sylvia… she's kind. Kind. Merle was floored as the word popped into her head. Sylvia and kind? In all her years of 'knowing' the dorm manager, the two had never been said in the same sentence.
But someone who was not kind wouldn't help another without thought. Leap at the very idea at someone in distress.
Could I… be kind like that?
The second the idea popped into her head, Merle shook it out. A wave of embarrassment flooded her senses, lighting up her cheeks. There was no comparing herself to Sylvia. She couldn't even get a word out without her heart palpitating while Sylvia guided words with ease. They were like night and day. Too different to even compare. Merle started down the walkway once more, now in a hurry.
I bet Sylvia would make a better Precure than me… she would have been able to help Clancy… make her voice count. A bitter taste filled Merle's mouth. The Blue Pigment swung heavily. At night it faintly glowed with an alien energy. Not enough to be noticeable, but just enough to warrant a second look. Merle spent more time than she should have staring at it, trying to pull answers from the rock. Couldn't you have picked someone better? Someone like Sylvia?
Why her? Why pick someone who wasn't good at anything? What even were the qualifications to be a Precure? Clancy had mentioned she went to school to be one, trained years to try and be selected. But she was turned down. If someone like her couldn't become one without some disaster falling, then why was Merle picked? Why not someone kind like Sylvia?
Didn't I say because I was willing to help? She had said something like that to Tessur. By that logic then, if anyone was in her place they would have been chosen too. The thought was comforting, if only a little. She wasn't special. She was just in the right place at the right time. She didn't pass any special qualifications.
There was a ripple of energy that knocked Merle straight to the ground. She hit the cold grass, spraying dew directly into her face. The color ebbed away fading to the almost familiar shade of gray. The ripple, although invisible, could be felt. It passed further and further from her sight swallowing all the color until it finally ran out of energy and dissipated. Dorm B sat repainted gray. Even from afar, Merle thought she could see some kids collapsed, their emotions taken away.
Where's the Dead-Color? Merle leapt to her feet. Every direction she looked, there was nothing. No rampaging monsters. No gloating Tessur or Anneis.
"Pretty Cure! Primer and Gloss!" A feeling of energy shot up her veins, enveloped Merle. "The color of the unforgiving Earth! Cure Aero!" Even with no one to witness the transformation, the words tumbled out.
Aero leapt to the skies, scanning the horizons for the Dead-Color. She jumped around campus, almost flying with how fast she was going. A small wailing broke the silence, almost like that of a child. Aero barely hit the ground before something was swinging at her. She dodged on instinct, ducking beneath the wildly flailed limb.
It looked like a woman at first glance. Like the photograph Dead-Colors from months ago. But, it was only a woman in shape. The Dead-Color's face was horribly misshapen. Its eyes were spread far apart and off kilter, one far too low. Its mouth was close to its ear, where another ghastly wail disturbed the silence.
A… what's the painters name? Aero never paid attention in art class preferring to doodle robots in the margins of her notebook. Picassi? Picasso? The Dead-Color looked like it'd been pulled from one of the paintings in the school hall.
"There you are." Tessur stepped forward into the scarce moonlight.
"You-" Aero started. That's when she noticed the man beside him. He was towering to say the least. He was a good foot taller than Aero herself, with two-toned hair; black locks that faded to white near the edges as if dipped in paint. His pale skin was almost a completely colorless white, no hint of any other color there.
Incredibly tall… black and white hair…
His eyes were the final thing she noticed. Even from afar, they appeared to suck the light around into their deep, deep black depths.
"Mono…chrome?" Aero breathed the name out in shock. The one who destroyed the Land of Canvases.
"The cure?" Monochrome ignored her, asking Tessur. Even he flinched back from the gaze.
"Yes."
Aero was so distracted by the two she didn't see the Dead-Color coming. Its hand slapped her hard against the side, shooting her across the lawn. The ground tore where she hit, but Aero quickly gathered her bearings. She jumped backwards, dodging the next attack. The Dead-Color dug its knee into the ground where she landed, patchwork dress flaring up.
Aero slammed a kick into its shoulder, a ferocious crack shattering the night. It didn't even phase the Dead-Color. Its arm bent, trapping her calf before pulling. With a curse, Aero slipped.
"Not very experienced… is she," said Monochrome.
"No. I mean, she can take out a Dead-Color on her own." Tessur quickly backtracked.
Shut up! Aero twisted her other leg and landed another kick to the Dead-Color's disturbing face. It gave a distorted screech before toppling over. She shimmied out of its grasp and jumped back. The Dead-Color swiped with its other arm, hitting nothing but air.
"Any person with power and competence can do so," Monochrome countered. If it wasn't for the enhanced hearing while transformed, Aero doubted she'd be able to hear him speak at all. His voice was soft, slightly muffled by the fluffy collar of his jacket. "Yet, she's not exactly a true cure. Just like Vermillion, yes?"
Vermillion? Aero stopped. Of course he would know Clancy, she was their prisoner after all, but to hear someone say her name, even if it was her cure name, was a shock. And to insult her?
"What would you know about Vermillion?" Aero spat out before she could stop herself. "How dare you call her a fake cure."
"A thief with noble intentions is still a thief," he answered loftily, not actually answering anything at all. Monochrome's gaze slid like oil from Tessur to her. Compared to the eyes that would follow her down the halls, his was much worse. Aero shivered despite herself.
Another comment was ready to claw its way out her throat, but the Dead-Color chose that moment to strike. This time, Aero was ready. She forced the burning ache from her chest towards her fists. The fury that rose was launched directly into the Dead-Color's own fist. Skin flaked off the Dead-Color's forearm as the attack hit. Before she pulled back for another attack, the forearm moved. It twisted downward and snapped forward. The air was forcibly pushed from Aero's lungs as she stumbled back.
The Dead-Color's arm was twisted inhumanly, its elbow bending the wrong way. The mouth despite being painted in a grimace seemed to be grinning. Before Aero could get her bearings it was attacking once more. She was forced to dodge a series of punches and slashes completely out of breath. The final punch clipped her cheek, continuing past Aero's head. Aero stepped in closer, pulled lower to the ground, and slammed a fist of her own where the Dead-Color's ribs should be.
A satisfying crack filled the area.
The Dead-Color still didn't go down.
Aero dodged the next swipe. And the next. And the one after that one too. The only sound was her own labored breaths as she retreated from the Dead-Color. She tried to land her own hits, but they missed by mere centimeters. The two did a deadly dance, each trying to inflict a disabling blow on the other and failing. Aero dodged wildly, almost slipping on the slippery grass a few times. The Dead-Color had jerky movements and didn't need to be facing her to attack. Its joints moved any way it wanted, bending impossibly beneath or above Aero's defenses.
Finally, the Dead-Color slipped up. In the pit that Aero had created earlier, its foot slipped. With no hesitation Aero snapped her fist down, slamming it directly into its face. That seemed to be the only place to hurt it. It let out another distorted wail, grabbing at its mismatched features. It wasn't enough. Aero landed another devastating jab to its covered face. She was practically sitting on it, slamming her fists over and over against its face.
More and more paint flaked off, covering the grass in thin streaks of gray skin. Her knuckles felt bruised by the time she was done. The ground beneath the Dead-Color was broken from the force of the punches. Dirt was caked around its head, caging the Dead-Color slightly. Aero stood, out of breath.
"The Pigment that tranquilizes the heart!" She reached to the side, blue energy collecting in her palm before becoming a long, thin pencil. "Pretty Cure! Aero Recode!" The pencil was jabbed directly downward, point digging into the Dead-Color's chest. Blue numbers formed and piled at the tip. With a bright burst they became chains that held the Dead-Color down.
Aero jumped away. Even from afar she could see bright, mismatched colors filling its form. A large pop and coo filled the area as paint exploded, coating everything in sight. On instinct, Aero lifted her arm to block any incoming paint.
Tessur started forward, his face set with a grim frown. But, Monochrome stopped him.
"Lord Monochrome?" Tessur asked. "I can defeat-"
"No." In the half light, his face was shadowed, but Aero swore she could see a small curl at the edges of his lips. "I've seen enough."
"Of course." Tessur looked like he wanted to say more, but held his tongue. Monochrome was the first to disappear, followed quickly by Tessur.
Color fully returned to the area. Green grass had never looked so beautiful. The transformation pinged off in a flash of electric blue. Transforming and fighting as Cure Aero always left Merle exhausted and ready to collapse. But, this time she didn't feel as bone weary as before. At least not physically. There was a dull ache in her chest that refused to leave after the fight.
How could Monochrome so easily insult her friend? Call her a fake? Clancy had put more effort than anyone else to try and save her home. She had been beaten black and blue, spat up blood, and still refused to stand down. If that didn't make her a cure, then what did?
Of course, this was the man who destroyed the Land of Canvases in the first place. What was one insult in a wave of genocide? Nothing but a drop in the sea.
I should have tried to take him down. Merle crossed the dimly lit campus back to her dorm. At least throw one punch. Grif, and how it still hurt to think how they were in prison too, had warned her early on that the emissaries were on a whole other level, but just a single punch. Merle should have tried to manage that.
"You look cold," said Etihvv from the hall. Clancy barely lifted her head, teeth chattering. Cold? She was beyond cold. Her skin felt like a frozen imitation. Etihvv talked on, "we have heating up stairs so it's hard to tell how cold it really is. You should have seen how Anneis reacted when she stepped outside! You'd think they don't have winter in the Land of Shade… not that I'd know…"
A shadow passed their face, gone as quickly as it came. Heaving up a large, gray comforter, Etihvv smiled brightly. "That's why I brought you this! Wouldn't want my favorite person in prison to freeze to death."
Clancy was almost grateful, almost. On one hand, she wouldn't be freezing, or at least feel a little warmer, on the other… the way Etihvv smiled meant they wanted something in return. The comforter was stuck through the bars of the door and thrown unceremoniously onto her form. There were no thoughts, only her body moving on instinct to wrap it around. Some warmth from above still clung to the fibers. It was quickly leeched away.
"Hey Clancy." Etihvv sat on the floor, knees drawn to their chin. Here came the request.
Leave, the bite was held back by cold lips. Despite the playfulness on their face, Clancy knew they were trying to be serious. It was what scared her. Etihvv was rarely serious. Or at least when she knew them.
"I don't like how this all ended up. I don't like… I don't like how you're here and I'm out there." Etihvv drew themselves up tighter. That made two of them. A familiar anger flared. It shouldn't have been like this at all. "People in the Land of Shade don't have emotions. But me-" Etihvv raised their hand, clasping where their heart, if they had one, was. "-I find myself raked by their thorns in the middle of the night."
Melting silver, threatening to drip past their eyelids and down their gray cheeks. "Clancy-"
"What do you want from me?" She finally found the energy to speak. Despite being a few feet apart, a long distance separated the two. Their hearts couldn't be more separated.
Etihvv wore a blank look. Their eyes were vacant for once, a smile not taunting the edges of their lips. "Do you think those years were faked?" They finally asked.
If Clancy could laugh she would. But she didn't have to. They had been 'friends' for years, of course Etihvv could easily read her face.
"Do you think I don't care for you?" Etihvv pressed their face against the bars, eyes unblinking.
"I will not fall for your treachery, Etihvv," Clancy spat. "Don't pretend like you didn't orchestrate the fall of our- my home." The slip up made her chest squeeze. She shouldn't have had to correct herself. Why did it end up like this?
"As if I could do that, Clancy-"
"Enough! You betrayed me!" Despite the frigidness of her limbs, the cold clinging stubbornly, she reached and grabbed their hand. It was uncomfortably warm. All those feelings she had wanted to push down, down so she didn't have to deal with them were bubbling. Infuriated, Clancy leaned closer. "You betrayed me Etihvv."
Etihvv's face froze to a look of horror. It quickly was covered by a mask. "You left me to die, swarmed by the Dead-Colors." Their hand, the one not held down, pulled the collar of their shirt down. The gray skin was laced with white marks, covering their collarbone and more. "I almost died."
The anger had puttered out, leaving nothing but a puff of smoke. She couldn't pull her gaze away. White, jagged scars like claw marks filled every inch of the exposed skin. Unconsciously, her hand tightened on theirs. All she could see were the swarming backs of the Dead-Colors.
They're not getting up.
Clancy sucked the frigid air in through clenched teeth. The sand was so cold against her knees. Paint and heavy smells laced the air almost chocking her.
They're not getting up.
"I don't blame you, Clancy." Something squeezed her hand. Reality was dragged back harshly, replacing the sands with steel bars. Etihvv was alive. Alive, alive, alive. Their face had softened, silver eyes swimming with unshed tears. "I can't blame you."
Etihvv gave her hand another tiny squeeze before pulling away. The sword at their hip clinked against their leg. "I can't have you hating me, Clancy." They rubbed at their eyes harshly before looking down once more. "Not for me just doing my duty to my homeland, especially when you would have done the same."
She couldn't speak. Not even when Etihvv turned and walked away. How desperately she wanted to scream at their receding figure. Shout and scream till her throat was hoarse once more. Instead, her fingers wound tight in the comforter. Something harsh rubbed against her fingertips. Looking down, Clancy's heart froze.
Woven in gray was her name.
Afterword: Another chapter! *Dies* they're steadily getting longer and longer.
Anyways, leave a comment or constructive criticism! I'd love to hear from y'all.