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Chapter 8: Just a Bruise
The silhouette of a guardian ghost cast an eerie shadow on the wall as it slowly floated by.
The light in the area was dim. The only sources of light were the natural glow of the giant ghost's body, the faint luminance in his staff, and the flicker of orange from some mounted torches on the walls.
The passageway was narrow, and as such, only two guards could efficiently patrol the passage without any hindrance. One guard was stationed further down the passage, down a winding tunnel that opened up into the Netherworld, leading to Betrayus's Castle.
The other guard, patrolling the inner chamber of the passageway, was stationed near the entrance of their ghastly realm – the gateway between the Netherworld and Pacworld.
It was Betrayus's orders to tighten security around the entrance.
Usually, not many ghosts came around these parts other than going out for an invasion. Or for a simple stroll far away from the lava fields. But that was before the King of the Netherworld reclaimed his proverbial authority.
Ever since the end of the elaborate battle that took place yesterday, Betrayus has announced a new set of rules to be followed. Rules that included several changes to the security and patrol duties of all guardian ghosts in the Netherrealm.
Not only has Betrayus tightened the law surrounding the free movement of his subjects, but he's also issued a new command for all of his guards and security forces to follow to the utmost scrutiny: guard any portal, gateway, nook and cranny that offered an opening to Pacworld. No ghost nor monster was to enter these premises unprompted, and if they did, they were to be captured and brought to Betrayus immediately. A grave punishment would surely follow.
Not keen on facing the wrathful king himself, the guard was vigilant for any signs of trespassers. His gargantuan, ethereal blue body carefully stalked the passageway, a watchful gaze leering through his elderly visage. The looming, distorted shadows on the walls were his only company.
Or so he thought.
Passing a cluster of rocks, the guard didn't notice the presence of four souls hiding behind the rocky stacks, entirely out of sight.
From the guard's point of view, all seemed in order and the silence couldn't have felt more habitual.
But close by, shielded from the eyes of vigilant security, an air of unease and bone-deep fear encircled the four young ghosts as they waited anxiously for an opening. It took a gathered effort for the orange one not to melt into a nervous breakdown and split in half.
The guard slowly floated by, further down the passage as he didn't perceive anything out of the ordinary. With his back turned to the entrance, he didn't notice the emergence of a red ghost hovering out of hiding.
After a moment, the carnelian spectre slowly beckoned his comrades to follow him.
One by one, four ghosts floated out of hiding. One by one, four ghosts made their way up to the entrance.
The faint, quivering sound of a shift in the aether reached the guard's ears.
The giant spectre whirled around, tightening his hold on his staff.
Cruel blue eyes scanned the passageway for any trespassers. His sight eventually landed on the end of the passageway, where he saw the glow of spinning aether that marked the entrance to the Netherworld. The portal. Untouched and still hovering in its usual place.
The guard kept his eyes and ears peeled for the slightest bit of movement. But after several seconds, his stance relaxed and he slowly looked around. There was nobody in sight. Once again, nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
With a huff, the guard turned around and resumed his patrol down the passageway, mumbling under his breath and thinking he must've been imagining things.
Completely unaware that a gang of four ghosts had just flown into the portal mere minutes ago, sneaking out of the Netherworld.
Pac didn't realise he was dreaming until he woke up with a hitched gasp.
The fleeting remnants of sleep washed away when he found himself staring at the roof of the upper bunk bed, vaguely aware of dark imagery fading away into his peripherals.
Sunlight was streaming into their windows, casting a warm glow inside their dorm. All was quiet.
But Pac lay tense and motionless in his bed, despite the seemingly serene atmosphere. His breathing was short and laboured.
For a few very long seconds, he was in a daze. Confused and uncertain about the strange heaviness in his chest.
He had been dreaming again, that much he knew, but for the life of him, he could not remember what he had been dreaming about. All he could recall was the feeling of dread and anguish…
Was it another nightmare?
Through his sleepy consciousness, he tried to remember if it had indeed been another bad dream. But it was fleeting and foggy, mingled with his exhaustion from the previous day. He was not sure if his restless sleep was because of a nightmare or because of depleted energy…
But by the slight chill in his bones, the cold sweat, and the familiar ghostly feeling of fear and agitation gnawing at his limbs, he knew that it was the former.
Somewhere in the night, his night terrors had crept up on him again.
Pac sighed, dejectedly. The only relief he could garner from this was that he had no recollection of what the nightmare was about. He had more than enough reason to believe that it was the same one, anyway…
Then came a second dilemma.
Even before waking up, he knew that his body would be in a state of aching joints and sore muscles. But when he shifted his weight to test his mobility, a spike of intense discomfort shot all over him and he groaned. He was more sore than he had thought. The battle from yesterday really did a number on him.
Swallowing his groan, Pac settled into a more comfortable position before gingerly rubbing some sleep out of his eyes.
The sound of ruffled fabric came from above, and Pac looked up to stare at the underside of the bunk bed above him.
After being his roommate for some years, Pac knew enough about Spiral's sleeping habits to tell whether or not his best friend was awake. One tell-tale sign would be the sound of deep snoring, a sound that was currently absent in their quiet room…
Wondering if his guess was true, Pac spoke up, groggily.
"You awake, Spi?"
"Uuurghhh."
The exhausted groan was followed by a creak in the upper bunk bed, indicative of a sore body moving around. After a second, a tired reply came back.
"My soul is here, but my body is somewhere in the deep trenches of the ocean."
Pac would've chuckled at the analogy if laughing didn't guarantee a jab of soreness in his chest, and so he settled with a hum of agreement. Spiral sounded just as beat as he was.
A deep yawn came from above. "That was single-handedly the worst, most tiring battle we've ever had."s
"Yeah…"
Pac's thoughts were drawn back to the battle, reflecting on everything that happened.
His aunt and Sir Cumference had assured them that they shouldn't worry about yesterday's happenings. Rather, they insisted they should rest up and get their energies back after being completely spent after the battle, promising that they'd keep them in the know in case anything came up.
And yet, Pac felt on edge.
There was something about yesterday's battle that just didn't sit right with him.
A gut feeling, perhaps. A deep worry that something wasn't right.
Pac's brow furrowed, unable to shake off the ominous feeling. He silently took a deep breath in, and a deep breath out. Eventually, his eyes trailed upwards.
"Spiral… do you think things could get worse from here?"
"Huh?"
The upper bunk bed creaked again with movement, and a confused reply came back. "What'cha mean, bro?"
"Do you think Betrayus could really be back to his old ways? Like how he was back in the war?"
An uncertain silence followed. Pac knew that it was a foreboding thing to ask, but a part of him wanted to find some sort of solace in knowing that perhaps he wasn't the only one being on edge.
After a few seconds of pondering silence, Spiral seemed to catch onto Pac's worries. The red teenager sighed.
"I dunno, bro," Spiral admitted, thoughtful but uncertain. "I kinda want to believe that we're thinking too deep into this. Betrayus is not the kind of guy to come up with complex stuff. Maybe some of what happened yesterday was just coincidence."
"He made his ghosts deliberately target people yesterday," Pac countered, softly. "Some of them could've gotten really hurt. It can't just be a coincidence that he's going after innocents instead of the Repository…"
"True, but what are the chances that big ol' hot-headed, impatient, reckless and short-sighted Betrayus could come up with a plan so specific? We're not even sure if he really did intentionally order his ghosts to ignore the Roundhouse and attack people. The ghosts could've just decided that yesterday was the day they ignore orders and attack whoever they want."
Despite Spiral's honest attempt at assuring him of his worries, Pac was still not convinced. "That doesn't explain the campsite, though… why would only a few ghosts go to the campsite while an entire army went to the city? Unless he planted them there to act as decoys while the rest harmed the city in our absence. It can't just be an accident."
"The explosion at school last year was an accident…"
As if a switch had been flipped, Pac snapped out of his current worries and fell silent as memories came rushing back…
Last year, sometime before Elliptica officially joined the team, there had been a small explosion at Maze High School.
At the time, he and his team were fending off ghosts elsewhere in town, unaware that some stray ghosts had wandered away from the main battle to aimlessly stalk around the area of their school.
When the team of ghost fighters had just wrapped up the battle, news reached them of a terrible incident at Maze High; an explosion tore out a part of the front building, and with it, two classrooms collapsed.
It was only hours later that they found out why it happened. There was a gas leak at the front side of the building, close to the two classrooms. Of the few stray ghosts who had wandered near the school, one of them had been a small fire ghost. Once exposed to the ghost's fiery heat, the gas leak reacted and set off an ignition that caused the explosion.
With the help of the Ghost Gang doing an investigation in the Netherworld, the little fire ghost confessed that it was not her intention to blow up a part of the school…she was just flying around wanting to spook some students and didn't realise there was a gas leak until it was too late. The ghost had shown remorse for what had happened. It was well and truly an accident.
Most of the staff and students had been away when the explosion happened, but some weren't so lucky…
There had been casualties in that explosion. Lives were lost, including some of his classmates…
Sherry was one of them.
Pac squinted his eyes shut, wincing at the tragic memory.
A moment passed by before he found his voice again.
"It was an accident and yet lives were lost."
No reply came from above this time. Spiral couldn't argue with that point, and the red jock himself fell into a mournful silence upon remembering the incident.
It was an intensely sobering time in their lives. Never did they think they'd be confronted with the death of people whom they had sat next to in high school. They weren't as close with Sherry as they had been with each other, but she was still their friend. Cylindria had taken the loss the hardest…
The Yellow One thought back to the battle they had yesterday while reminiscing on the incident at their school from last year. The outcome of the latter was proof that not all of their battles ended in flawless victory.
In both battles, they may have emerged victorious in preventing Betrayus from taking over Pacworld, but both battles brought forth problems that got out of their control.
In fact, they were eerily similar.
They were distracted by a battle further away in the city while an explosion went off at their school, taking lives. They were distracted at the campsite while an army of ghosts wreaked havoc on the city, endangering civilians…
Pac's thoughts began spiralling into a string of fears and anxious questioning.
What if something similar happens again, but with worse consequences? What if next time, Betrayus uses our distractions again to cause real harm?
"Pac."
What if things get so out of control that I can't protect everyone? What if more lives are lost because I didn't act quickly enough?
"Pac—"
What if people die because of me?
"Bro! You still awake down there?"
Pac snapped out of his racing, fretful thoughts. He didn't realise that Spiral had been trying to get his attention.
Swallowing the heaviness in his throat, he answered, "Y-Yeah, still here…"
"As I was saying… Look, I know that yesterday was a close call, and that things could've gone south for the civilians. But it didn't." Spiral insisted, a reassuring beat to his tone.
"Sure, Betrayus threw us in for a loop, but we still beat his army with the help of Sir C. Things worked out in the end."
A gentle creak came from the upper bed as Spiral shifted onto his side. "I'm not saying we shouldn't take the battle seriously, or that we shouldn't be prepared. I'm just saying…there's no use worrying about the why's and the what-if's now when all we can do is rest up. Stay prepared for what's to come, y'know?"
The yellow teenager thought about it for a moment, taking his best friend's words to heart.
"I guess you're right…"
Truthfully, he was not entirely sure if he felt any better about the matter. The uncertainty of what Betrayus could be up to weighed heavily on his thoughts, that strange and foreboding feeling never truly leaving.
But…Spiral did have one point. There's no use losing sleep over it now. Not when they have this chance to build up energy in preparation for the next battle. Maybe he was just overthinking things, and Betrayus really could have just had a lucky shot yesterday.
"Besides," Spiral added with a dramatic yawn, "I don't know about you, but after yesterday, I could really use a breather. This body ain't ready for any battles anytime soon."
Pac humoured his best friend's statement with a non-committed hum. He felt exhausted too, but the last thing he wanted to do now was go back to sleep…
The Yellow One craned his neck to check the clock on their bedside table.
It read 9:54 a.m. Sunday.
Not quite as late as they'd usually like to sleep in at, but late enough that they'll miss breakfast soon. Pac closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and opened his eyes again upon exhaling. He tried to clear his mind from any troubling thoughts, not wanting to be burdened with his inner fears any longer.
"We need to get up."
"No way," came a reply from above. "If I move an inch, I'll die."
Ignoring Spiral's melodramatic reply, Pac sat up on his bed and tried his very best to ignore the ache in his body. He yawned and slowly started stretching his arms out above his head…
Only to hiss sharply when a vicious spike of pain flared up in his left wrist.
Immediately, he retracted his arms and gingerly cradled his wrist, scrunching his eyes shut. "Agh-!"
"Whoa, everything okay, buddy?"
A red head poked out over the edge of the upper bed, peering down worriedly at Pac.
"Y-Yeah," Pac answered, hesitantly. He grimaced and tried not to aggravate his wrist any further. "My wrist just took double hits yesterday…"
He remembered yesterday's events, when he had bumped his wrist against a rock while underwater in the river, and later at the city, he foolishly used his left hand as a brace to cushion his impact against the wall of a building. Since yesterday, his left wrist has been aching in intervals, but now the pain is evident.
He could see the beginnings of a bruise around his wrist. On the surface, it didn't seem like a serious injury to him, but pins and needles kept prickling at his wrist's ligaments, nearly throbbing. When he carefully flexed his fingers, jabs of stinging pain spread all across his hand.
"Dude, you should get that checked out…"
The Yellow One winced, tentatively rubbing his wrist to try and soothe the pain, all while putting on a brave face so Spiral wouldn't worry.
"I'm sure it's just a bruise. It'll go away on its own."
I hope, Pac thought afterwards because he couldn't deny that his wrist did hurt to the point of being very tender. He knew that it took quite a beating yesterday, but he was certain that no bones were broken, so it couldn't be that bad, right?
Pac climbed out of bed and carefully started pulling on his shoes and gloves, being mindful of his injury. "Are you coming down yet? We're gonna miss breakfast if we don't get out soon."
Spiral leaned back into his bed, yawning. "Nah, you go on ahead, I'm gonna get some extra shut-eye. Call me when we're needed."
After carefully manoeuvring around his wrist, Pac finished getting ready and stood in the middle of their dorm room. He glanced up at Spiral's bunk bed, hearing the beginnings of deep snores starting up again. His best friend fell right back to sleep.
Mildly amused, Pac merely shrugged and proceeded to exit their dorm room, heading out into a brand new day.
"Morning, Cyli!"
"Mornin'…"
Pac had only been walking for a few minutes down the passage when he met Cylindria halfway through.
The pigtailed girl looked every bit as tired and sleepy as he was. Before she even noticed his approach, she was rubbing sleep out of her eyes and walking at a slow, drowsy pace. She waited for him to catch up to her before they both resumed their walk down the hallway, heading to the cafeteria together. None bothered to hide how tired they felt.
"I hope you had better sleep than I did," Cylindria said, stifling a yawn.
Not likely, Pac thought, though he didn't want to go into detail as to why he had a restless night. Nor did he want to trouble her with his own problems, and so he angled his head to look curiously at her. "How come you didn't sleep well?"
"Took an hour last night to wash out the smell of smoke, and two more just to get splinters out."
"Ouch," Pac expressed, sympathetically. "Splinters? When'd you get those?"
Despite her drowsy state, she looked up at him almost quizzically, raising a sassy eyebrow. "You mean you didn't get any from that tumble we took in the construction alley?"
Catching on, Pac matched her energy and gave a casual shrug with a teasing hum.
"Hmm, now that you mention it, maybe I do have some splinters stuck somewhere. I've just been too busy dreaming about shovelling slime to really feel em'."
He knew that slime had nothing to do with what really happens in his dreams, but he made it up anyway and was happy to see that the joke at least got a little chuckle out of his tired friend.
The two 17-year-olds engaged in light conversation as they walked leisurely through the school. They talked about their morning, their hopes for the day, and a little bit about their studies. For a small moment in time, there was no urgency, no worries, and no ghost fighting. Just two friends enjoying each other's company.
Pac himself felt a little lighter, thanks to the casual and upbeat conversation. He may be tired, but just being around her gave him a little boost of rejuvenation. Some of his earlier worries melted away, and heeding Spiral's advice, he allowed himself to enjoy and appreciate the time he had away from ghost-fighting.
However, if there was one thing keeping him from fully enjoying the moment, it was the nagging pain in his wrist.
Every so often he discreetly fingered and rubbed at his left wrist to try and ease off the ache, but the action was only mildly effective. His wrist felt more tender by the minute…
He tried not to let the discomfort show on his face. Instead, he focused on the conversation to stay distracted from the pain.
Soon, the duo came to a junction in the passageway. As they turned into a different corridor, Pac asked, "Has Elli been up yet?"
"She's already had breakfast and is back in her dorm. Said something about wanting to give her mom a call."
Pac gave a small nod of acknowledgement. A particular memory from two days ago joggled his train of thought. Tentatively, he asked, "Do you think she's doing alright? After the battle, I mean."
He remembered how distraught Elliptica had been after their History class two days ago. While she seemed to have recovered well from the shock of finding out about her uncle's many war crimes, there was still the matter of yesterday's unusual battle.
As her friend, Pac was worried about how she was taking it.
And as her closest friend, Cylindria caught onto Pac's unspoken worries immediately without further question.
"I think so… She doesn't seem as spaced out as she was the other day after class," Cylindria answered after a moment of consideration. "She looked like her usual self when I saw her this morning. My best guess is that she's just calling her mom to catch up for a bit."
So, nothing to worry about, Pac concluded. He already had his own concerns about the battle, and the last thing he wanted was for a teammate to carry that burden, too. It was reassuring to know that Elliptica was doing okay despite the fact, at least.
But he was about to discover that the battle wasn't the only thing to have concerns over.
"There's something that's been bothering me since yesterday," Cylindria spoke up after a moment, her voice low and wary. "Something about the whole attack."
Puzzled by the sudden change in tone, Pac turned to look apprehensively at her. Her brows were furrowed into a look of concern, and a foreboding feeling coiled around in his stomach. When she met his gaze, her eyes were riddled with suspicion.
"If the diversion was a deliberate act from Betrayus, then why didn't the Ghost Gang warn us about it?"
The question caught Pac so off-guard that he stopped dead in his tracks.
The Ghost Gang—! He realised with a jolt of alarm. The absence of their four allies in the past two days was a sudden and jarring reminder. With everything that happened, he had completely forgotten about them.
"Pac?" Cylindria came to a halt in her step, too, and watched bemusedly as Pac seemed to have hit a bluescreen in his head.
"You're right," Pac stuttered after a moment of recollection. "I didn't realise they never showed up…"
Some friend I am, Pac berated himself for not noticing their absence sooner, but his guilt was pushed aside by more urgent questions.
"Why didn't they show up? They're usually always on time when it comes to relaying info about what Betrayus plans to do in an invasion…"
"That's what I want to know, too," Cylindria nodded, "and even if they couldn't warn us in time, usually they still make an appearance during or after an invasion, but there was no sign of them yesterday."
Pac fell into silence, considering all the odds and possible explanations as to why their allies were missing. He thought hard on it for a moment, but he couldn't think of a reasonable explanation as to why the Ghost Gang wouldn't warn them.
"I don't want to consider the worst-case scenario," Cylindria murmured, worriedly, "but you don't think they could've just kept it from us, do you?"
Pac shook his head, "No, that's not like them…"
Unless Pinky has some kind of grudge that I'm oblivious about, he remembered aptly of that one Berry Day when the pink ghost had made a point of visiting him just to personally accuse him of two-timing her – even though they weren't together and she had it all wrong. But still, holding grudges to the point of not warning them of a dangerous invasion? That's too low, even for the Ghost Gang.
The rag-tag group of ghosts have proven themselves worthy of their trust and loyalty more times than he could count, and they've always pulled through for them when it came to relaying information. So why didn't they show up this time? Especially for an attack as malicious as yesterday?
Pac's brow creased into a frown of worry. "Could Betrayus have something to do with it?"
It would be foolish not to consider Betrayus interfering with any vital information passing between the Netherworld and Pacworld… But for that to happen, the Ghost Gang would have to be caught in the act. There's no way Betrayus would know otherwise.
"I don't know…" Cylindria answered, as though sharing his thoughts. "I mean, it seems unlikely. All things considered, let's just hope Betrayus didn't find out about the Gang working undercover for us. That would be a worst-case scenario."
Pac nodded, absentmindedly rubbing at his wrist when it started hurting again. "Maybe we should keep an eye out for them, just in case. If they don't show up today, or any time soon, then we could ask Sir C to track them. Or take a quick trip to the Nether and find out what the deal is."
The Yellow One vaguely took note of Cylindria's nod of approval. He sifted through his worries, pondering through every possible solution as to the Ghost Gang's absence.
He was so distracted by his thoughts that he didn't realise he was rubbing at his aching wrist more indiscreetly.
Nor did he see a pair of observant pink eyes catching the movement at his hands.
"What's wrong with your wrist?"
Pac froze, snapping out of his thoughts upon being caught. Biting his lower lip, he brushed it off and merely shrugged.
"It's nothing—" he was about to say, but when he looked down, he found himself staring down at his wrist in abject surprise.
The bruise had gotten worse. The skin around his wrist was splotchy, and the bruise had crept up and disappeared under his glove, where he was almost certain the worst of it was hiding away.
Before he knew what was happening, Cylindria stepped closer.
"Let me see."
Worried for what she'll find, but too tired to feel inclined to stop her, Pac carefully tugged off his glove to get a better look at his wrist.
He regretted the action the moment his bare hand showcased the entirety of the injury.
The black and purple marks were stark against his yellow hand. Aside from the marred skin around his wrist, the ugly bruise had spread around the joint and now travelled up into his palm. The entirety of his wrist was swollen, sore and tender to the touch.
Pac scrambled for an explanation when Cylindria's eyes grew as wide as saucers.
"It's nothing, it's just a bruise-"
His words died out when she suddenly took hold of his arm and lifted it to examine his wrist.
"Pac, this isn't just a bruise! It's sprained," she revealed before looking up at him in alarm, a dozen questions swimming in her eyes.
"Sprained—?" Pac uttered incredulously, more out of denial than disbelief. "It can't be that bad, how would you even know-"
As if to prove a point, Cylindria gently prodded at the swollen area and Pac swallowed his words instantly. He bit back a strangled yelp when just the slightest touch caused a jab of pain to prickle in the ligament.
"That," she emphasised, sternly, "is a sprained wrist."
"Go figure," Pac muttered while resisting the urge to flinch. Slowly, it sunk in that the injury was indeed worse than he had thought, and he realised that a sprained wrist would be the only explanation as to why it had gotten so bad. No wonder it hurts so much-
"How long has it been like this?" Cylindria asked, levelling him with a softer, more concerned look. "Why didn't you say anything?"
Pac found himself at a loss for words. Not wanting her to worry, and to get away from her calculating gaze, he averted his eyes and shrugged sheepishly. "It just got a little hurt in the battle yesterday, is all-"
Cylindria raised a disbelieving eyebrow. A little? Her eyes seemed to say.
Pac backpedalled and aptly remembered that he was talking to the smartest member of his team. After all, she was there when he slammed into the building and took a hit to the wrist. There's no fooling her.
"Okay, maybe more than a little," he admitted, glancing down at his aggravated wrist before rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. "It got hurt in the river, and then again later when we beat the dragon, but I didn't think it was that bad…we were all tired from yesterday's battle, and I guess I just… didn't notice?"
It wasn't a complete lie; he truly didn't think the injury was that bad, and they all had been too tired to focus on anything other than the aftermath of the battle.
But he omitted the part where he's been so spaced out lately that it didn't occur to him that he should take his hurt wrist seriously…or the fact that he's willingly downplayed the injury as nothing serious, all because he didn't want this to be an additional burden over everyone else's worries.
And so, he downplayed it even more and merely shrugged, sheepishly. "It hurts, but it's only temporary. I'm sure it'll get better on its own, eventually."
Cylindria stared at him as if he just said the stupidest thing ever.
She let go of his wrist and took hold of his upper arm.
"Come with me," she said resolutely, breaking into a brisk walk.
"Wha-"
Pac stuttered in protest when she nearly pulled him off of his feet, but her pace was quick and her grip on his arm was firm, and he had no choice but to follow. The pigtailed goth took a pathway in the opposite direction of the cafeteria, dragging him along despite his frantic protests.
"Really, Cyli, I'm sure the school nurse can just have a look at it later and it'll be fine!" He insisted, desperately not wanting to make a big deal out of this.
"It's Sunday, the nurse is off-duty."
He opened his mouth in a last-ditch effort to form an excuse but found that no good arguments came to mind. Especially when it was clear that Cylindria was on a mission and wouldn't let herself be swayed so easily. He was not going to win this battle.
So, begrudgingly, he relented and just let her take him wherever.
She navigated them through the hallways, taking a route that he was only faintly familiar with. At first, Pac assumed she was taking him to the nurse's office to get some medical supplies to use on their own.
He was a little confused when they arrived in front of a dorm room instead. When she placed her hand on the door's handprint sensor, Pac realised with a start that it was hers.
The electronic door slid open with a quiet whoosh and Cylindria tugged him along as they entered.
In a moment of perplexed clarity, Pac realised that in all of the three years that he had known her, he'd never been in her dorm room before.
Cylindria let go of his arm and walked over to her desk, opening a drawer and rummaging around while he stood back. Momentarily forgetting about the issue of his wrist, Pac took in the interior of the room.
It was a single room, meant to house no more than one student, so she didn't have any roommates to share it with. There weren't many options given to them when it came to decorations, as per dormitory rules, but despite the limitations, she had turned the room into something that was so distinctly her.
If he had to describe it in one sentence? Perky goth with a side of hippie.
The standard blue shelves at the wall were swapped out with black ones, holding various books and trinkets, including the medal she received on their first day of fighting ghosts. In the corner next to the shelves was a small, pink beanbag, and in the centre of the floor lay a stripey pink and red rug. Closer to the window was an extra table, circular and small, complete with colourful swirls printed on its top. A pair of black chairs rested nearby. Like his own dorm, there were posters all along her walls, only they were posters of intricate, decorative designs. Most of them had gothic patterning, but some had a more floral look to them, sporting flowers of various kinds, probably reminiscent of her hippie upbringing. He wasn't surprised to find a poster of his aunt up there, too.
Her bed was built into the wall, like all of the dormitory's beds were, but what stood out about hers was that it had a desk lamp right next to it. Several pillows adorned her bed, all in different shades of pink, while the bed covers themselves were black as night. On the wall between the bed and window was a designated space for photos, many of which Pac recognised.
And finally, there was a desk stationed in the corner of the farthest wall, where Cylindria was currently standing and searching through its drawers. From the slightly disorganised display of books and papers, Pac guessed that it was her study corner.
The entire room was moody and imaginative, and yet, vibrant and comforting. Cosy.
"Wow," Pac hummed in awe as he took in the interior once more. "Your room is so… you."
"I'll take that as a compliment," Cylindria called cheerily from the desk before pulling out a little red box from the drawers. It was her own personal first-aid kit. She stepped away from her desk and beckoned him to follow her.
"You can sit down for this."
Pulling his eyes away from some pictures on the walls, Pac obliged and followed her over to the table near the window.
While Cylindria packed out what she needed from the kit, Pac took his seat and tentatively laid his wrist out on the table, wincing as he stared at the discoloured skin.
"Any idea on how long this is gonna take?"
"Depends on how bad it is," she answered, sitting down in her chair across from him. "Thankfully, it doesn't sound like we're dealing with a fracture of any kind. You'd definitely not be so calm if that were the case."
Pac grimaced at the thought of his wrist being broken instead of simply being sprained. That definitely would've been a whole new level of pain. Not that this sprain felt any less so.
Cylindria gently took his wrist and brought it closer for her to examine, careful not to touch the swollen area. Her brow creased faintly in concentration, pink irises wandering up and down as they assessed the damage in his wrist. Something stirred in him as he watched his wrist get scrutinised under her gaze. Whether it was self-consciousness or just nerves from what she could find, he didn't know.
After giving it a once-over, she pulled out a tiny green jar and a gauze bandage from the kit. She opened the jar, revealing a supply of dark green salve inside.
"Count backwards from ten to one."
Pac blinked. "Huh? Why?"
"Trust me. This is gonna sting."
At those words, Pac eyed the green jar suspiciously, before tensely heeding her word.
"Okay… ten, nine, eight, sev-OW!"
Now he understood why she told him to count.
Any method of distraction was needed to ignore the pain firing up in his wrist the moment she applied the salve over the bruise and swollen areas. She was doing her best to be gentle, he knew she was, and yet the injured ligament burned as if it was on fire. It took everything he had not to instinctively yank his arm away.
Pac gritted his teeth and settled for counting backwards in his mind, so as to not yelp out loud. Seven! Six! Five—!
"This is what happens when you don't do first-aid immediately after a battle," Cylindria gently chastised, more out of sympathy than a reprimand.
"No kidding," Pac forced out through clenched teeth, biting back a groan as she carefully rubbed the last bit of salve onto the injury.
Finally, she released his wrist and started to unroll the bandage from its tape. With the pressure now gone, Pac released a breath he didn't know he was holding and looked down to observe his wrist, now covered in a pasty substance. A strong, earthly smell hit his nose.
"What's the green stuff?" Pac asked, out of slight curiosity. And in a bid to distract him from the lingering pain.
"It's an old herbal remedy that Granny taught me. It relaxes the injured muscles and speeds up the healing process," she explained, about to wrap the bandage around his hand.
Knowing that he wasn't off the hook yet, Pac forced himself to relax and steady his breathing. He braced himself for another onslaught of pain, but thank the heavens, the pain was significantly less as Cylindria carefully started wrapping the gauze around the lower end of his wrist, slowly working her way up to the rest of his hand.
Wincing a little, Pac glanced at the jar off to the side. "You sure it works?"
"'Course it does, I've used it plenty of times."
Her casual and upbeat reply gave him some relief, both from the pain and from his worries, but he perked up upon letting her words sink in.
"Plenty of times? Why so much?" He asked out of worry, hoping the answer wasn't something that would warrant her to use the remedy frequently.
At first, Cylindria didn't answer him for a good few seconds, until a fond smile graced her features. As though she was recalling a memory.
"I used to be really accident-prone as a kid, aside from being outdoorsy."
Pac blinked in surprise. Tilting his head to the side, he raised a brow upon learning this new info about her.
"You? Accident-prone?"
She flashed him a wry smile.
"Oh, absolutely. No matter how much my parents tried, they couldn't stop me from going out to play in the woods every day. I'd get a new bruise every week from playing too roughly, sometimes even a sprained ankle or a broken bone," she reminisced while making progress with his wrist.
"Back then, the only thing that could keep up with my adventurous streak was this salve. When I got older, Granny taught me how to make it so that if I ever get hurt, I'll have something that would help."
Pac listened attentively as she recalled her childhood to him. A small smile started to form on his face. He remembered the time he met her family, when it became apparent that she grew up in an environment vastly different to that of regular kids. That was when he discovered that the girl he'd come to know as someone calm and intelligent had once been quite the free spirit as a child. Even now, she was full of surprises.
Just as she was about to finish wrapping his wrist, a tiny smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"Hmm, the story of you glueing feathers to yourself as a kid makes more sense now," he teased.
Out of reflex, Cylindria fumbled and tugged a little too hard on the two final knots for securing the bandage, making him flinch. But the flustered look on her face was worth it.
"We don't talk about that damn scrapbook." She said, red-faced and thoroughly embarrassed at the memory.
Pac merely chuckled at her reaction. He chortled louder when she shoved at his shoulder in playful indignation.
"Anyways! You're all patched up now. It should be better by tomorrow," she concluded cheerily, turning to start packing away her medical supplies.
Still wearing a smile, Pac gazed down at his neatly bandaged wrist. The bandage was firm and served as a good compressor for his injury, so much so that he didn't think it needed an additional splint. It still ached, though.
He gently rubbed a thumb over the sterile material, the mirth on his face melting away at the realisation of how bad this injury could've gotten had it been left unchecked.
"Thanks for this, by the way," Pac whispered, earnestly. "I guess lately I've just been a bit distracted."
"Must be a big distraction for you to miss a sprained wrist like this," Cylindria concurred, almost pointedly. There was a question in her tone, silently probing for what could've kept him so distracted that he wouldn't notice the throbbing pain in a wrist injury.
Pac shrugged, almost numbly.
"Maybe 'distracted' isn't the right word. I've just been thinking about some stuff, and it's more because of yesterday's battle than anything else. Honestly, I think I'm just tired…"
Trailing off, Pac fell into silence as he took a moment to reflect on what the fatigue was doing to his body. He probably would've been more attentive to his wrist had he not been so tired.
But he knew very well that the battle was not the only thing that had taken a toll on his energy.
Several nights of restless sleep were also to blame. Nights filled with strange horrors that only happened behind closed eyelids, troubling his mind and chiselling away at his energy. He felt tired and worn just from thinking about it. A pensive heaviness settled onto his shoulders.
Little did he know that he was being watched.
Cylindria had paused in the middle of packing away her kit, staring mutely at Pac after hearing his vague words.
Her brows furrowed thoughtfully as she took in the way he looked.
The way his smile had dimmed into a haunted stare, the tension in his shoulders, the dark rings under his eyes…
Rings that were there long before yesterday's events.
A twinge of worry seeped into her gaze as she watched him. After a moment of thoughtful observation and reflection, she quietly resumed packing.
"How are you holding up with the nightmares?"
Pac stiffened and looked up at her in surprise. He blinked rapidly, caught off guard by her gentle question.
She knew? How did she know? He thought he had been discreet about it… What gave him away? Was it that obvious?
She closed the kit and turned to look at him expectantly, and Pac realised that he's yet to give her an answer. Overcoming his initial surprise, he averted his eyes and tensely rubbed the back of his neck.
"…How did you know?"
Cylindria gave him a warm, sympathetic smile.
"I've been your friend for three years, Pac. I know you well enough to pick up whenever you're not being yourself. You've been struggling with nightmares for quite some time."
Pac felt his cheeks warm up, unsure whether he felt sheepish for being found out over something he tried to hide, or for feeling somewhat touched at how well she's come to know him…
Cylindria shrugged. "That, and Spiral had his suspicions as well. He is your roommate, after all."
"That snitch."
So, it was noticeable then.
Obvious enough that Spiral had picked up on it and relayed the info to the rest of their group. Pac had deliberately tried to mask his fatigue in an attempt to keep his nightmares under wraps, for reasons he was not prepared to admit. Clearly, he was not hiding it well enough…
The pigtailed goth kept her eyes on him, waiting patiently to hear what he had to say. Pac swallowed.
"…Okay, you're not wrong. I haven't gotten the best of sleep lately," he admitted, tightly. "And it may or may not be because of bad dreams."
As if this didn't faze her, Cylindria regarded him with a sincere and caring eye.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
Pac couldn't bring himself to answer her.
Truth be told, he doesn't want to talk about it. He could think of many reasons whyhe should talk about it and the good it would do him, and yet, something deep inside of him refused to. He didn't understand the nightmares or what they could mean, if they even meant anything, and he didn't want to scare her or any of his friends over it because—
Because just thinking about it scares him.
He doesn't want to recall the things he's witnessed in those dreams. How can he when he still felt so unnerved by it? Especially when those very same images had followed him into the river yesterday. Trying to remember the details of the nightmare made his heart speed up and his breathing feel tight.
The dark void, the suffocation, the screaming—
Don't think about it.
He couldn't dare think about it. He couldn't talk about it. Not now. Not ever.
And so, he slowly shook his head. "I'm fine."
Before she could respond, Pac pressed on and tried to smile in an attempt to be reassuring. "It's not the first time I get nightmares, right? They happen from time to time… but they go away eventually. It's nothing to worry about."
Cylindria's mouth formed a tight line, eyes flickering down to his hands. "You said the same thing about your wrist…"
Out of reflex, Pac lightly fingered his bandaged hand after realising the irony in his own words. "I know…but this is different. Broken wrists need care to get better, but bad dreams go away on their own."
This time, Cylindria's brow creased faintly and her gaze turned thoughtful again, almost ruefully so. Worry shone clearly through her eyes.
"Nightmares aren't supposed to be a frequent thing to begin with, Pac… Are you sure you're alright?"
After a heartbeat of hesitance, Pac slowly nodded.
He knew that she was just looking out for him, but this was a burden that he couldn't bring himself to share. A part of him wished that she didn't pick up on his behavioural changes so easily…
Though he will admit, he was slightly impressed by how deeply perceptive she was.
Cylindria still didn't look convinced. She looked like she wanted to say more, but if she had anything else to say on the matter, then she didn't voice her thoughts. Instead, she sighed softly, eyes trailing down to stare at the table.
"You didn't ask for this job, you know."
She had spoken softly, in an emotion that he couldn't pinpoint—something between woe and sympathy.
"Nobody asked us if we wanted to spend every waking moment fighting ghosts. This job isn't easy, especially if you're carrying the brunt of it all, Pac. You've sacrificed a lot in order for us all to get where we are."
There was an earnesty in her gaze when she looked back up at him.
"Just… if you ever need somebody to talk to, then I'm only a few rooms away," she said, offering a small smile. "My door is always open."
Pac stared at her in stunned silence, taken back by her sincere words and compassionate offer. It nudged at a layer of vulnerability in his chest, stirring up feelings of comfort and gratitude. Waveringly, as though careful not to let too much of his emotions show, he gave a small smile in return.
"Thanks, Cyli. I'll…I'll keep that in mind."
Cylindria smiled a little bit brighter, happy and satisfied that he could at least acknowledge the offer. Pac couldn't help himself and felt his own smile broaden to match her own, truly thankful—
GROOOWWWLL.
Only for both of them to stare bewilderedly down at his stomach when it gave a great, grumbling growl, as though it had waited for that perfect moment to announce its hunger pangs. Pac groaned. Way to ruin the mood-
Cylindria giggled bemusedly. "Sounds like even heroes aren't spared from the laws of nature."
"You're telling me," Pac concurred, scowling down at his stomach. That was when he was hit with a realisation.
"Aw man—the cafeteria will be closed for breakfast by now! How am I gonna wait it out until lunchtime to eat?"
"I'm sure waiting a few more hours can't be that torturous," she insisted with a teasing lilt to her tone.
Pac responded with a melodramatic whine.
"But I haven't eaten since last night! I could eat an entire buffet right now," the yellow teen intoned drearily, just as another grumble sounded from his stomach.
"Hmm," the pink teen hummed in thought before glancing over at the farthest wall in her room. Her eyes lit up when an idea popped into her mind.
"Close your eyes," she asked and stood up from the table.
Pac looked up at her, confused. "Why?"
"I don't trust you with the location of my candy stash," she gave him a wry smile before walking over to her closet.
Picking up on what she meant, an amused smirk tugged at Pac's face.
"Are you saying I don't have self-control?"
"That's exactly what I'm saying."
"Hmph, you think so poorly of me. As if I'd have the audacity to steal candy from my friends, I'm offended," Pac pretended to be hurt, placing a hand over his chest in mock offence. But the smile never left his face, especially when Cylindria simply chuckled mirthfully at him.
And so, he complied and closed his eyes.
He heard a drawer open, followed by the distant crunch and rustle of wrappers, before footsteps came back over and stopped just a few feet away from him.
"Here."
Opening his eyes, he was presented with a handful of candy in a variety of colourfully branded wrappers. Before he could do anything, Cylindria held them back momentarily.
"This is only a substitute for now until you can get proper food. I don't hand out my candy just for anybody."
With an enthusiastic nod, Pac hopped out of his chair and gleefully accepted the confectionery.
"Thanks! I'll pay you back someday," he promised, popping a single candy into his mouth, wrapper and all – because this was Pac-Man, able to digest virtually anything.
"No need. We better head out soon, Spiral and Elli must be wondering where we are."
"I can vouch that Spiral is definitely still in dreamland right now," Pac said around a mouthful of sugary sweetness, his hunger temporarily appeased. "Maybe we can all go hang out at Pac-It-In Burgers. That'll wake him up."
Cylindria nodded her agreement while taking one piece of candy for herself, walking towards the door with Pac in tow.
Just before she opened the door, Pac watched her pop a little piece of black candy into her mouth, one he nearly didn't recognise.
"Is that liquorice?"
Her eyes lit up smilingly. "Yup! Best candy ever. Though I will admit, it is an acquired taste."
"I always thought your favourite was chocolate?" He enquired curiously as they exited her room and made their way through the hallways.
"Nah, chocolate is overrated. Liquorice for the win."
It was arguably a beautiful day.
The sun was shining, the sky was vibrantly blue, and the birds were singing a chipper tune.
But within the bushy restraints of Maze 256, a portal opened up and out of its maw came a gaggle of four ghosts. Ghosts who were anything but cheerful. They received no comfort from the bright and jovial day.
Keeping silent was difficult when your ectoplasm was simmering with fright.
They swallowed a yelp and hid behind the maze's grassy walls when a group of girls walked by, lost in their own attempts to conquer the maze. When the chattering students faded away from sight, the spectres slowly came out of hiding and made haste to navigate through the maze towards its exit.
All in search of help.
"Remind me again why you woke me up at this hour of the day?"
"Because normal people don't sleep until this hour of the day."
Back and forth went the casual banter between a red jock and a pigtailed goth.
Spiral had barely dragged himself out of bed when Pac and Cylindria had fetched him, groaning and complaining about how it was too early to get out of bed – even though it was already past twelve. Soon after, the three of them had met up with Elliptica and now the quartet of ghost-fighters were taking a stroll through the school grounds, right outside of the maze.
"Whatever happened to letting people get their beauty sleep?" Spiral whined amidst a yawn, absentmindedly fixing his still-messy bed hair.
"I wouldn't constitute you as a beauty," Cylindria threw back shamelessly and with a cheeky smile. Elliptica stifled a giggle at the face Spiral made at that comeback.
"C'mon, Spi, don't tell me you wouldn't give up sleep when Pac-It-in-Burgers are on the menu for lunch?" Pac insisted with a grin.
"Duh, 'course I would, but not after we got our back-ends kicked into oblivion like yesterday," Spiral drawled sleepily, suppressing another yawn.
"He's got a point-" Elliptica offered as the voice of peace between her friends' banter, which was quickly followed by an exasperated 'thank you' from Spiral before she continued- "I wouldn't have gotten out of bed if I didn't need to call my mom at an early hour."
"How did it go?" Cylindria tentatively asked her lilac friend.
"Alright, I guess," Elliptica admitted with a noticeable drop in excitement from her tone. "We had to talk about some stuff."
"Good stuff or bad stuff?"
"All of the above?" Elliptica said with a strained smile. "On one hand, we got to catch up on a bunch of things, so that's good. As for the bad things…well, I had to tell her about the battle yesterday. She didn't take it well."
"Don't worry, my Ma threw a fit when she found out I was wrangling ghosts for a living, too," Spiral joked light-heartedly in a bid to make her feel better.
The lilac teen hummed concurringly, even though her mother had known full well that she was a ghost-fighter.
Pac noticed the sag in his friend's shoulders and knew inwardly that it must've been more than just a matter of a mother fretting over her daughter over something that she'd been doing for a year by now. He wondered if they had talked about Betrayus, by any chance…
Gathering up some positive energy from amidst his own weariness, the Yellow One smiled brightly at his team in an attempt to raise their spirits.
"Hey, nothing can get us up and running faster than burgers for lunch, right? I'm sure we'll all feel better and more energised once we-"
"PACCUMS!"
Pac nearly leapt several feet in the air from the sheer volume of that call, scaring him down to his wits.
Especially upon hearing the unnaturally shrill screech in that familiar voice – the one voice that made him want to run for the hills.
But when he and everyone else had whirled around to the source of the call, Pac had only split-seconds to register the fast-approaching spectres before he suddenly found himself ambushed by four familiar ghosts-
SLAM!
-and tackled straight down to the ground.
He didn't know which one of his friends went down with him, only that he vaguely felt another body hitting the floor behind him too – and that he got a face full of slime from being body-slammed by two ghosts, none other than the Ghost Gang. Inky and Pinky clung onto him for dear life, yelling and talking over each other agitatedly.
"What the fu-" It was Spiral who had gotten up and practically shoved Clyde off of him, despite the orange spook looking like he was at the breaking point of a meltdown – more so than usual.
"Guys, get off—!" Pac croaked out and, with great effort, pried the iron grips of the ghosts off of him, mindful of his bandaged wrist. "What the heck was that for—?!"
But Pac couldn't finish voicing his grievances. None of them could.
The Ghost Gang – Pinky, Inky and Clyde in particular – were yelling and fretting so loudly and agitatedly that nobody could understand what they were saying.
The spectres wore looks of horror and fright. Only Blinky had stayed back, hovering numbly in the air with an equally pale look on his face.
"IT WAS TERRIFYING!"
"IT WAS HORRIBLE!"
"He vaporised them RIGHT IN FRONT OF OUR EYES!"
As Pac sat there on the ground in shock, he slowly took in the frantic state of the Ghost Gang. Amidst their fearful words, one particular name of a fire ghost was mentioned, and his blood ran cold…
And Pac got a horrible feeling that his worries from earlier that morning were about to be answered in truth.
A/N:
Cliffhanger time again. But at least we got a slow and fluffy chapter to heal our anxieties from the last few chapters :)
Though I must address a thing that's mentioned at the start of this chapter: yes, in this fanfic, Sherry has passed away. It's sad and tragic, I know, and I wasn't quite sure how to fit that story into this chapter as it's understandably a shocker, even if she was just a minor character and her death happened in the past-tense of this fic. If you're wondering why I decided on her fate, it's because it's going to serve a purpose later on in the fanfic. You'll see when we get there.
A moment of silence for Sherry… R.I.P our friendly little braces girl :(
Nonetheless, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, which is certainly one of my favourites in this story. Thank you so much for reading!
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To Hope: Things are amping up indeed :D The story is slowly but surely moving into some interesting phases, and I'm happy to have you on board! And thank you SO SO MUCH for your incredible review on Just This Once! I love you and your reviews so much, I'm incredibly honoured to have you as a regular viewer!
To Bellmelody: You're most welcome! I tried my best to keep the battle both intense and heartfelt, I'm glad you enjoyed it! Thank you so much for coming back to review! :D
Both of you are the best! :')
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P.S black liquorice (or licorice for my American frens) just seemed fitting to be Cyli's favourite candy. And I agree that its indeed the best candy ever. Acquired taste or no, I will always love this unorthodox candy :D No I don't take critique on this :DD
P.P.S Please don't take medical advice from this fic! The green salve remedy from Granny is made up ofc but the treatment for a sprained wrist is not 100% accurately portrayed here. Please go to a qualified doctor when you sprain your wrist :')