Did you know? I recently turned 19!
...
yey...
When his vision turned a very slight hint of red, and that feeling of warmth started to spread across his face, he knew that he's beginning to register the sun's rays. That meant that his body was conscious, and that he's actually starting to awaken from what was likely another day of unconsciousness.
It felt like days had passed since the last time he was in this position, but then again, that's how it always feels when one is regaining consciousness after such a long period of absence. He wouldn't miss it at all though, because feeling the sensation of air filling his lungs and being able to move even the tiniest bit of his body was a miracle in itself. The first thing he noticed as he opened his eyes was the bright, harsh sunlight that assaulted him.
It was always like this - that massive ball of ancient fire in the sky with its never ending power of shining light and giving life to this planet. That star, his personal enemy at the moment, continues on to blaze with all its might. He winced and immediately shut his eyelids again, groaning as he lifted a hand to shield them from the intense light.
"Hnn..." That groan escaped his mouth, faint but present, almost like an afterthought. His throat felt dry, parched. How long has it been since he had any fluids? Not sure, but long enough that it makes him feel super duper thirsty, especially considering he can barely make himself swallow because his throat felt so rough.
Slowly opening them again and lifting a hand to shield from the sunlight still wearing his vision. It was unrelenting. But gradually, his pupils begin to constrict and expand until finally, some details start forming within the space where they're laying, wherever this may be.
Half of his lower body is covered in a blanket, though comfortable, is such a nuisance in a heat like this. The fresh air from the outside barely makes a difference. Seeing as there was not a single speck of clouds in the sky, it is safe to assume that it is going to be a scorcher of a day. The temperature outside must be nearing 40C, if not higher.
How is that possible though? Last he recalled, it was still early in September, Autumn should already be around the corner; the heat really shouldn't be this high. He groaned again, louder this time as he tried to prop himself up using his elbows, muscles straining under the effort of moving after what was likely a long period of inactivity. His body feels heavy and sluggish, like it's been encased in lead for days.
He didn't get to sit up when he heard shufflings from the side. He peeked over and saw three sets of heads. One of them appears to be sitting still. Last Order.
The little girl was holding on to a green plushie. Large enough that her entire torso was obscured by it, with her head peeking from the top. Her eyes were set on him - she appears to be surprised, mouth slightly agape with her dimples making them more pronounced in her expression as they widen.
He couldn't assess the little girl more when two women already had their hands on him. "Shush, stop moving, you're hurt." He recognized that voice. Kikyou. He could feel her arms over at his chest, gently pressing him back down. She had a fearful look on her face. He doesn't even have to wonder why she was like that, he already got the answer when a sharp throb stings at his sides.
All he did was flinch. He didn't even groan or yelp or anything like that, yet Aiho, holding the back of his head, whom had been quiet and looking all stern since he first laid his eyes on her face, which the stern expression already looking out of place for the usually warm-hearted woman he knows, seems to be distressed by it.
"Don't push yourself. You're in no condition to move." Aiho's words were laced with concern as she gently but firmly guided his head back down onto the pillow. The throbbing pain at his sides intensified momentarily before subsiding into a dull ache.
That's right. He'd forgotten about his side.
He was breathing pretty hard. He chose not to talk until he could at least manage his breathing properly. After a few more seconds of labored gasps, he managed to slow it down into something approaching normalcy.
"Just how long..." He finally rasped out in between breaths. "...have I been out?" The words were faint and scratchy, barely above a whisper, but loud enough for everyone present to hear them.
"Four days," Kikyou answered close to his ear, speaking in a gentle manner as her thumb softly caressed the skin above his heart, ostensibly to comfort him. The silence that follows feels oppressive. "You lost blood. A lot. That's why you were out for this long." Her voice sounded more subdued, as she fought to speak steadily.
The reality was settling on him now - that had been closest he'd had to biting the dust. The memory of it all comes back to him, and he flinches visibly. Kikyou's hand remains on his chest as she looks at him with a sympathetic expression. She doesn't need to say anything for him to understand that they've been worried - very worried. Aiho was still holding the back of his head, but her grip loosened slightly when she noticed the visible reaction.
He turned his head slightly towards the little girl. She is quiet as a mouse, not moving an inch. The green plushie in her arms has a worn appearance, likely from frequent use as a comfort item. "Is she... okay?"
Both of the women audibly hummed in unison, exchanging a glance. "She's been quiet for most of the time," Kikyou explained in hushed tones. "She's just... still shocked. From what had happened, the things she's seen, and then you ending up like this. Mentally, it must be taking quite a toll, even if she doesn't express it outwardly."
"The girl watched thousands die. 'Taking quite a toll' doesn't even scratch the surface of what she's endured." Aiho added, her words laced with a biting edge. She was still holding his head firmly, but not unkindly. There was a brief pause, maybe 10 seconds of silence. Aiho exhaled air from her lungs before speaking again. "We're keeping an eye on her, don't worry. What's important right now is you, Hirano - how are you feeling?"
He took another breath, a little steadier this time, before responding. "I'm okay... just a bit of lightheaded dizziness and some pain," Even with the brief hesitation and the labored breathing, it was evident he was trying to sound nonchalant about his injuries, that which they both noticed. "Though, I could really use some water. Please."
Both stood up right after he'd voiced his request. He closed his eyes in exhaustion, before quickly reopening them to observe Aiho's figure disappearing into another part of the hospital quarters and Kikyou placing herself on his level again beside the bed, close enough to sense her presence, a comforting touch near his elbow as she sat back.
"You were supposed to take things more slowly... they gave you so many warning signs..."
"I'm sorry," He'd been reckless. Very, even. He wasn't really one to underestimate his enemies - he knew full well that there are consequences to every action - but the world is as it is. His body didn't have enough time to rest after that first incident, so he was pushed back into a high-stakes fight right afterwards. The circumstances of both instances made them feel necessary.
It got him into this position, that whole fiasco with Hishigata and, surprisingly, Amai Ao. He'd thought that bastard was long gone. But well, after that whole thing, he surely must have. Those two bastards, definitely. But they did come very close to completing whatever it is they're planning on doing with Last Order. He had a feeling that had he been at least another 3 minutes late, things wouldn't have gone the way it had.
Not only that, Hirano could still feel that bullet zooming past his head, barely whipping his ear. That one would have definitely ended him if Amai's trembling fingers and the distance plus heights hadn't played a role in saving him. The aftermath of that slaughter left him with these injuries, the wounds still burning as a constant reminder of how close to death he'd been.
It had been worth it, he thought. Last Order is saved, along wit-
He perked up. Again, he turned towards the little girl. "The virus that they implanted into the network," he whispered, his voice rough and gravelly. He could see the grim look on Kikyou's face before she even spoke. That was his answer. Question is, how many?
"It... could've been worse." Her words were laced with sorrow as she continued. He doesn't like it, the way she'd worded it. But he couldn't blame her, not really - the reality is that thousands have already died. "You saved 17,561 of them."
The phrasing was meant to comfort him, but the number of those who weren't saved hung in the air like a suffocating weight. Two thousand, four hundred and fourty. That was the total amount of deaths that he couldn't prevent. The realization made his stomach churn, bile rising in his throat as the enormity of the loss sank in.
A hand gently cupped his cheek, bringing him back to reality. Kikyou's warm skin against his face was grounding, a physical anchor in an ocean of despair and guilt threatening to drown him. "It's not your fault," she whispered, speaking with fierce conviction that echoed her words. "You saved thousands. Thousands."
Even with the emphasis on the number of lives he did save, the weight of the ones lost pressed down on his chest like an iron weight. He opened his mouth to protest, but was cut short when Aiho reappeared with a glass of water in hand, her face grave as she passed it to Kikyou. The latter then carefully lifted him up slightly by the shoulders and positioned the glass for him to drink, mindful of his wounds.
The cold of the liquid couldn't beat the heat of shame and guilt as he swallowed. He talked too much, analyzed too much. Had he been faster, had he not toy around with Qiong Qi, had he not fucking joked around with Esther, he might've - could have saved more. If he'd spent less time getting sidetracked, he would have been more decisive in his choices... The endless cycle of "if only" tortured him as he closed his eyes momentarily, trying to steady himself and calm the guilt threatening to tear him apart inside.
"Last Order," he managed to get out, his voice strained with emotion. The girl on the side finally reacted to the call, but that terrified look in her eyes was still present, albeit overridden by a much more pronounced expression of shock at seeing his own. Again, he apologized, over and over again, unable to say it loud enough for comfort, yet never truly expressing what he wanted.
The trance-like look she had that has been plastered all over her face for the past few days was ripped away, replaced by a sudden burst of tears. He reaches for her as Kikoyou and Aiho instinctively hold him back as gently as they could. But the second she sees him reaching for her, exhausted from the meds and pain but still clearly awake, that expression of genuine elation appears on her small features. Before either woman could say anything or prevent it, the little girl bolted forward.
Aiho caught her with her arm, holding her back as she was about to dive into the bed and more than likely caused it to tumble sideways. "Calm down, Last Order, get a grip on yourself!" Despite her warning, Last Order wiggles furiously in her grip, clearly even distressed at being held back.
All the noises, the whole commotion in the room, it was certainly loud, with the cries of both of the younger occupants in the room echoing off the walls. Last Order's distressed cries only intensified as she fought against Aiho's restraint, her small hands flailing desperately as if trying to reach out for him. Her tear-streaked face was contorted with anxiety and fear. While Hirano's more anguished, sorrowful expression remained unchanging, his eyes never left her.
Aiho loved them all very dearly. They were family members to her. She held them close to heart, seeing these two as though they were her own. And watching this entire situation unfold before her eyes, she couldn't help but feel a lump in her throat and a tightening of the chest. It wasn't long until she felt like bursting into tears herself.
The entire room felt suffocatingly small as the air crackled with emotion. Kikyou rubbed Hirano's back while his face was buried in his own hands, "Breathe, just breathe," was all she managed to say between her own shuddering breaths.
Certainly, a family reunited through grief ends a near miss.
How long has it been since that intense emotional encounter? He doesn't know - he wasn't very good at keeping pace with time, especially when his mind is clouded by both medicine and grief. There were several nurses that had come and gone, checking on his vitals and changing out the bandages. Noon had long passed, giving way to a quiet evening.
Last Order was now curled up on Aiho's lap, knocked out from lack of sleep and emotionally exhausted while she held the girl close. Every so often, Last Order would stir slightly before settling back down, her small body seeking comfort in its deep slumber. It took ages before the girl finally slept, but now she was out cold, her chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. Aiho's hand absently stroked the girl's hair as she kept watch over her.
For now, the room was quiet, save for the soft beeping of monitors and the occasional rustle as someone shifted in their seat. The air felt heavy with unspoken words and lingering emotions. Outside, the starry sky peeked through the window, casting a pale blue glow over the room. It doesn't reflect on the white haired boy's face, as he stares down at his hand - the hand that had to watch so many people die right in front of him. That same hand saved 17,561 lives... but it was still not enough.
Painkillers kept his consciousness in a strange, ethereal state between wakefulness and sleep. Half the time, he wasn't sure if the thoughts in his head were real or just drug-induced dreams. His fingers twitch as a phantom bullet passes through them, that same skin on his ear throbbing from where it had nearly been torn off.
Time slips away as he loses himself to these thoughts. When he comes back to reality, Kikyou is standing beside him, her hand gently resting on his shoulder. "You need to rest," she says softly, speaking with gentle authority. "Your body needs time to heal." Her eyes search his face, concern etched on every line and curve of it.
He hummed, "Tired," He rasps, his voice rough from disuse and pain. His vision swims up and about as he stared at a particular twinkling star from the window. Either a satellite or a star, it flickers and dances, much like the thoughts in his head. He can feel Kikyou's hand on his shoulder tightening slightly, a gentle but firm pressure meant to ground him.
"Hirano," she says gently. "Your eyes are closing, don't fight it, just let yourself drift off." She gently presses a cool cloth to his forehead, the soothing touch of the damp fabric pulling him further from consciousness.
He could feel his eyelids growing heavier, the world around him starting to blur at the edges. The star outside the window seemed to pulse in time with his heartbeat, a steady rhythm that lulled him into deeper relaxation.
"You sure are," she says gently. "Your eyes are closing, don't fight it, just let yourself drift off." She gently presses a cool cloth to his forehead, the soothing touch of the damp fabric pulling him further from consciousness.
He could feel his eyelids growing heavier, the world around him starting to blur at the edges. The star outside the window seemed to pulse in time with his heartbeat, a steady rhythm that lulled him into deeper relaxation. But even then, sleep still eludes him. His thoughts remain sharp and focused, despite the drugs working to dull them.
The sound of soft footsteps echoes through the room as Aiho rises from her chair, carefully cradling a still-sleeping Last Order in her arms. She makes her way towards the door, speaking softly over her shoulder to Kikyou: "I'm going to take her home. It's past time she had a proper night's rest."
"I'll walk you out. I need to walk my legs anyway," Kikyou responds, standing up and stretching her arms above her head. She ruffles one last time through Hirano's hair. "You don't mind being alone for a second, yes? There's a button over there in case you need a nurse. I won't be long. I'll open the window for some fresh air, would you like that?" she says gently, pointing to a small button on the wall next to his bed, opening the window when he nodded.
He watched with half lidded eyes as Aiho and Kikyou left the room, their voices fading into silence as they walked down the hallway. The door closed softly behind them, leaving him alone in the dimly lit room.
All he heard now that he is alone is the crickets outside by the shrubbery chirping their nocturnal songs. There weren't any sounds like this back at the apartment where they'd lived in, what with the place being all the way up on a high rise. Even with the park just across the building, the sounds that reached them weren't as clear, or as frequent.
Hearing it this close, though quite loud, was soothing to him, almost like a lullaby. He took in the air coming through the open window - it carried the scent of grass and rain, mixed with something else. It smelled earthy and alive, completely different from the sterile hospital room.
As such, his eyes remain half-closed, he draws a deep breath, filling his lungs with the clean night air. It helps clear some of the haze in his head. The crickets chorus turned louder for a moment before tapering off. Their chirps remind him of something... some distant memories.
That first few nights when he first got out, a little over 5 years ago, it was around summer as well. He could vividly recall staying up late at night, maybe even on this very same bed, the TV broadcasting some show about some kid who brings bad luck on a nearby town.
That night felt so long ago, so far removed from his current situation - he was curious back then, about the world, about everything, aware of his own situation and the things that he could do and what people wanted from him. But I'm definitely still very curious about everything in general.
Him now? Too many problems, knowing too many things, with so little options on what he could do. He often wondered if the past is still possible or if this will just be what it was now for the rest of his life - always with these cramps in his hand, remembering something that shouldn't be real and at times waking up only to remember another one died under his hands...
He wanted to be a kid again, to be innocent again, just as he was back then. To live in ignorance about the world, rather than have a front row seat to humanity at its absolute worst. To just watch the stars, listen to crickets, eat his favourite food, spend time with his favourite friends.
Yeah... "That'd be nice..." The words escaped his lips almost unconsciously, a faint murmur in the quiet room.
"What is? Asks Misaka, eyeing him incredulously for speaking to no one but himself like a crazy person." The suddenness of the voice coming out of nowhere, the silence broken so abruptly, it causes Hirano to startle a little, but not enough for him to fully wake. His eyes remain half-lidded as he turns his head slightly to the side, where a certain familiar looking clone stands idly.
"I didn't... hear you coming in." Misaka blinks blandly at his confusion, tugging the side of her lips, morphing the thin line of her lips into a smirk.
"Heh," the clone snorts. "You were zoning out, murmuring like a creepy old man. Have the drugs turned you into a drug addict? Misaka thought out loud, deliberately speaking in a loud, clear manner to ensure he can hear her." Her words are sharp and blunt, much like the lack of expression present on her face aside from the things that she wants him to see.
Hirano hummed, not exactly bothered by the jabs and pointed commentary. his attention drifting back to the window. The crickets outside had grown quieter, as if they too were listening to their conversation. "I was just... thinking about when I first got out of the facility." He turns his head slightly, regarding her with a weary gaze.
"Oh? Please do tell. Says Misaka with a wondrous inflection, taking a seat at the stool." The stool in question was the same one Kikyou had sat on, located on his right, facing away from the window. There was also another stool on the other side, he presumed that she was trying to get his attention by placing herself where he was currently looking at.
"Are you... really curious or just trying to find more... ways to poke fun at me?" He chuckles exhaustedly, the sound rasping in his throat. His eyes are still half-lidded, but there's a spark of amusement that the clone could see.
Misaka blinks once, her face showing a fleeting moment of relief before she recovers quickly. "Curious, mostly. Misaka admits, feeling a tad embarrassed." Again, that tick of hers that causes her and the other clones to speak in third-person, made it very easy to tell exactly what they were thinking, or rather, feeling.
"Maybe next time... I'm tired."
The clone watches him, her face set in a mild mask as she leans forward slightly. Her fingers twitch briefly before she folds them into loose fists and sets them on the edge of his bed, right beside where his hand rests under the covers. "The Control Tower told us about it. Misaka states, bringing back that topic from hours ago."
"Of what...?"
"How you cried over us. Misaka reminds," the clone's voice softens almost imperceptibly. Her fingers brush against his, a gentle, fleeting touch that lasts for only a moment before she pulls away. The movement is subtle, but noticeable, and Hirano's breath catches in his throat, but not of it.
He had his eyes fully opened this time, as if fatigue was the least of his concern at the moment. His face is set in a calm, almost serene expression as he regards the clone. The crickets outside have gone silent, as if the entire world is holding its breath, waiting for what comes next.
"Though you didn't know much about us, only having spent no more than 15 minutes in total with us. You still felt guilty for what happened to us, even though you had no control over it. Misaka speaks of her confusion, barring a slight frown at the enigma of it all."
Her eyes narrow slightly, as if searching for something within his gaze, trying to find an answer. Hirano inhales slowly, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm as he processes what she's saying. His gaze flickers briefly to the window before returning to her face, and his lips curl into a bittersweet smile. "I had a friend... who sacrificed so much for you all... whether she's alive or dead right now, I don't know... I can only hope that she's... found peace."
The clone tilted her head. "Why?" Misaka's voice is quiet, her attention fixed intently on the white haired boy.
He let out a chuckle. "Of all the times, you're asking... why did you mean that much in her eyes, now...?" His voice is laced with a note of bitterness, though not directed at the clone. Misaka's face flickers with emotion.
"I took the... biggest beating of my life the night she disappeared..." Hirano could still recall it all, particularly because, yes, it was the worst beating he'd ever taken. Up until now, he could still feel the Kihara's hands around his throat, the phantom pain of a broken rib, the dull ache in his jaw that took weeks to fully heal. It was like he'd been run over by a train, or, more accurately, a group of them.
Misaka's eyebrows furrow, a flash of empathy crossing her usually stoic face. "You weren't just numbers, or clones, or even just the results of an experiment gone wrong. You were... you." His voice falters, becoming softer.
"We are hiveminds of clones, meant to mimic the functionality of human beings. Our primary goal is to help you attain rank of Level 6, which has failed due to the lack of funding and real progress. Misaka states, her tone unchanging as she recites everything down."
"Even now, as we are talking, I am but a shell, a mere replica of the real Misaka who is out there. Misaka adds, her words growing slightly more subdued."
Hirano sighed, pulling at strands of his hair. "You talk as if you're not even real. I can see it in your eyes, hear it in your words, the way you act, the way you feel... You are as real as anyone else I've met, more so even." He extends his hand, palm up, as if inviting her to take it. "Why don't you believe that?"
Misaka stared at his hand for a long moment before finally giving an answer. "We are not meant to feel. We are not meant to think. We are not meant to be."
He kept his gaze on her. She did the same. He paused for a moment. "You asked me to bring you out on a date once," he says, his words taking on a soft quality. "Was that just a program... or do you really want to go...?"
The clone's eyes flicker, a faint, almost imperceptible tremor passing through her usually still form. Her mouth opens slightly, then closes, as if struggling to find the right words. When she finally speaks, her voice is lacking its usual flat tone. "Misaka... wants to go."
Her hand extends slowly, hesitantly, as if unsure of the gesture. Hirano's breath catches as he feels her cool fingers intertwine with his, their hands fitting together like pieces of a puzzle. The silence in the room is profound, broken only by the faint rustling of leaves outside the window and the soft, almost imperceptible sound of the clone's breathing.
Time seems to stand still as they sit there, hand in hand. The clone's face is turned toward Hirano, her usual mask of stoicism giving way to a softer, more vulnerable expression. Her thumb unconsciously traces small circles on the back of his hand. "Misaka... has many questions," she says softly, her words laced with curiosity and something deeper, more complex.
"Tomorrow... I'll answer it all..."
"You ain't going no mo?"
"No. The Board doesn't need us patrolling the area anymore."
Kuroko just shrugged, threading her fingers through her hair, set loose from the usual twin tail that it was. "Hn. Maybe they found something or someone else to do it." She glanced at Misaka, who was watching her quite intently.
Kuroko inches away deeper into her bed out of instinct, feeling rather uncomfortable with the intensity the older girl is watching her with. The brunette must've noticed it too, the way her expression wiped itself clean and putting on a boisterous yet awkward laughter, her hands gesticulating wildly. "Aaah, that must've been so nice. You haven't been sleeping well because of all that work they put you through, huh? I bet you're just glad to be back in your comfy bed and all."
"Yeah, something like that," Kuroko murmured, turning away to face the wall. She felt Misaka's gaze boring into her back, and she knew the older girl wasn't going to let this go.
Sure enough, Misaka spoke again, her words laced with suspicion. "By the way, if you don't mind me asking; back at lunch hour, you left quite early with Uiharu," she said, a sharp edge underlying her words. "What's that about?"
"It's nothing." Kuroko tried to keep her voice light and nonchalant, but she felt the familiar tension in her shoulders, her body instinctively preparing for confrontation.
"Hn, you know you don't have to keep secrets from me, right? I'm your friend. We're supposed to work together on this sort of stuff," Misaka continued, her tone hardening slightly as she moved closer, her words now laced with a sharp intensity. Kuroko remained silent for a long moment, weighing her words carefully. Misaka's approach wasn't helping. She glanced back at her friend, taking in the other girl's face.
"Well? What was so important that you had to drag Uiharu away and talk in private about it?" The words cut sharply, but there was still something in Kuroko that kept her from replying, though Misaka clearly looked troubled and agitated.
The older girl would more often than not act brash and irrational whenever something serious befalls anyone close to her circles, which translates to her being quite protective of her friends. Like that one time, several months back, Ruiko's in a coma and Uiharu's gotten kidnapped - Misaka quite literally blames herself for the things that had happened.
Problem is, the things that Kuroko's keeping aren't exactly anything serious. Just some curiosity that could probably bring the attention of the Academy City's not-so-good side. The silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken tension. Misaka's face darkened, her features hardening as she inched closer, her hand coming to rest on Kuroko's shoulder. "You're not going to tell me, are you?"
Kuroko's breath caught in her throat, her body tensing under Misaka's touch. She swatted the brunette's hand with a sigh, giving in with an irritated, "Fine. Whatever." She turned back to face Misaka, her usual calm demeanor cracking as she spoke in a low murmur. "There was this peculiar rubble in that exclusion zone I was patrolling. It was gone with scorch marks and melted metal. The surveillance footage was completely wiped. Uiharu and I were just discussing what it could be."
Misaka's face remained concerned for a moment, gauging out anything that could indicate deception. "That's... concerning," she said, her words laced with suspicion. "But why did you feel the need to keep it from me?"
Kuroko sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Well, first of all, I didn't want to worry you unnecessarily. Second, we don't even know what it is yet. It could be nothing, or it could be something big. I didn't want to jump to conclusions before we had more information."
Misaka's expression softened slightly, but her brow furrowed as she processed this new information. "I see. That makes sense, I guess." She paused, then added, "But you should have told me."
'There was also that thing with Frenda', she didn't add that last part, just voicing it in her mind. The blond's beret had dust on them. Concrete dust, to be precise. The kind that's found in construction sites or, more worryingly, in the aftermath of a crumbling watch tower.
Kuroko had noticed it, but hadn't mentioned it to anyone yet. She wasn't sure if it was related to the incident at the warehouse, or if it was just a coincidence. The timing doesn't help either. Not to mention, the relationship between Misaka and Frenda is not exactly good. They were on talking terms, yes, but they're not entirely close to each other.
And saying something that could possibly be a big deal about Frenda would only lead to more trouble. "Either way," Kuroko finally spoke, breaking the silence that had settled between them, "This has nothing to do with us; whatever it is that was destroyed, the Board of Directors doesn't seem too interested in investigating or is the one behind it. They just dismissed us from duty, so..." She trailed off, her mind drifting to darker thoughts. Was it possible the Board was somehow involved? If yes, then Frenda...
"Yeah... you're right," Misaka said, her words laced with uncertainty. She stood up, stretching her arms above her head. "I guess we should just focus on our studies for now. There's no point in worrying about things we can't control."
Kuroko nodded, a small, tired smile spreading across her face. "You're right. We'll just have to wait and see what happens next." She closed her eyes, trying to relax, but her mind was still racing with questions and possibilities.
Kuroko shifted into a more comfortable position, leaning against the wall with her legs crossed. She stared at the ceiling, her thoughts drifting to the incident at the warehouse. The melted metal, the scorch marks, the missing surveillance footage - someone is destroying evidence of some sort, large enough for it to be buried underneath all those layers of rubble.
'Must've been something important. A mech suit?' It's not too far of a fetch, considering the kind of technology that Academy City possesses. Misaka has fought one if Kuroko recalls. It was quite the trouble, the brunette claimed.
Thing is, Kuroko's not exactly worried about some mecha suits or robots or whatever the fuck it is the city's trying to hide. What she's really worried about however, is the fact that two of her friends were involved. She may not know it, but she's sure Hirano's hurt because of it. Again, it's simply too good of a coincidence for him to end up like that, at the exact same time when that whole thing happened, and for it not to connect.
Same goes for Frenda too, she met the girl exactly right after the presumed time the job was done. Kuroko is willing to do certain things for this whole investigation to be unfounded; to just be a wild goose chase. But if it turns out that her friends are involved in something dangerous, or worse, that they were hurt because of it, Kuroko's not sure she can contain herself.
Somebody's gonna die because of it. Haaaaaah…
It's been a while.
Staring idly ahead while it is past curfew, standing there with her hands hanging limply at her sides, the night air is cool and quiet. The streets are empty, save for a single car passing by not an hour ago. The lamppost gives off a faint orange glow, casting long shadows across the street.
Standing here, on a crossroad, both figuratively and literally speaking, Frenda is conflicted, her mind torn between her own desires and her fear of Mugino. She glances around nervously, half-expecting the woman to appear behind her at any moment, ready to make good on her threat. But for now, the street remains deserted.
She should be home right now, Fremea must be worried sick. That little girl of a sister would constantly call and text, asking where she is and if she's safe. Frenda never told her the truth about her real occupation, instead concocting some flimsy excuses about working late or having to take care of something important. It's not like telling her little sister that her sibling works, on more than several occasions, where it is required that she kills people.
That girl would definitely have a mental breakdown if she ever found out. Frenda shakes her head, trying to push those thoughts away. She can't afford to dwell on that right now. Mugino's ultimatum weighs heavily on her mind, and she knows she needs to make a decision soon.
She doesn't want to die, at least just yet. Least of all, a horrific, painful death at Mugino's hands. Knowing the girl, she would probably cut her in half or something. The blond could feel her own face being drained of colour by just the mere thought of such a gruesome death, and she's done this before to people.
But just as she does not want to die, she also doesn't want to take the life of a close friend, someone who's been there for her since childhood. Kuroko has always been kind to her, and even though they haven't really been in touch for a while, Frenda still feels a certain fondness for her. The thought of ending her life makes her feel sick to her stomach, and she's not sure if she can bring herself to do it.
But compared to her own life, where she might leave a sister who's barely 8 years old all alone in this cruel world, Kuroko's life is expendable. It's a cold, calculated thought, but it's true. Frenda's hands clenched into fists at her sides as she wrestled with this moral dilemma. The night air feels heavier now, more oppressive, as if the very atmosphere is weighing down on her.
She's taken lives before, dozens upon dozens and not once has she ever second-guessed herself. This really shouldn't be too hard. It's a kill or be killed situation, and she's always chosen the former. It'll be quick and clean, unlike what Mugino might have in-store for them. Hell, she's probably gonna make her watch as she slowly kills the twin tailed girl.
That psychopath really doesn't give a damn about anything or anyone. Frenda knows this all too well, having been her subordinate for years now. The thought of Mugino's face, twisted into a cruel smile. It sends a cold shiver down her back, and she can almost feel the weight of the older woman's glare.
Frenda brought her hand to her front. The glinting steel of a knife reflects faintly in the lamplight, its presence a grim reminder of what she's expected to do. 'Just a quick swipe, clean, and over before Kuroko can even realize what's happening,' she thinks to herself, her grip tightening on the handle.
The night is still, with only the soft hum of the distant city breaking the silence. A cool breeze brushes past, carrying the scent of the approaching rain. Frenda stands at the intersection, her grip tightening and loosening on the knife as she battles with herself.
She imagines Kuroko's face - innocent, smiling, unaware of the danger closing in. It's a face that once brought her comfort, but now it represents the end of someone's life, including her own.
Frenda's eyes flicker towards a large, extravagant looking building - Tokiwadai's outer dorm. Where Kuroko is at. She pulled out her phone, typing out a simple message, saying that she was outside and had something to ask her about. Something about a certain white haired someone.
Frenda's baiting Kuroko by saying Hirano's name, someone that she liked. She's gone too far to turn back now, and she's made her decision. Using such a fucking cruel and underhanded tactic to lure her out is just like Mugino, but she has no choice. If she doesn't do this, she'll suffer even more. Without even knowing why.
But is it any better than being killed by your own friend?
The betrayal that she's about to commit, the cold and calculated way she's luring Kuroko out, makes her feel sick to her stomach. Her pulse quickens as she contemplates the deed, her breaths coming in short, shallow gasps. She felt like she's gonna be sick, her vision blurring and her head spinning.
The cool night air only added more to the nausea gripping her, and she had to lean against the nearest wall to steady herself. Her fingers were shaking so hard that she nearly dropped the knife, which now felt like a lead weight in her hand. The phone clattered on the pavement, slipping out of her hand while she continued on to support herself against the wall.
She closed her eyes, trying to calm herself down, but the nausea only worsened. Her stomach churned violently, and she felt bile rising in her throat. She swallowed hard, trying to keep it down. She had half a mind to just throw up right here, but she knew that would only delay the inevitable. She needed to do this, and she needed to do it quickly before she lost her nerve entirely.
Then the phone buzzed. The nausea intensifies, and she doubles over, retching onto the pavement. She tried to focus on the screen, which was blurry and unfocused as her vision swam. She had to pick it up to even read the name.
It was from Fremea. Not Kuroko. The message was simple, innocent, and devastating: "Where are you? Are you okay? Please come home soon."
Fremea's words hit her like a physical blow, driving the nausea back up her throat. Her stomach heaved again, and she vomited violently onto the ground. The acrid taste of bile burned her throat as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She slumped against the wall, her body shaking uncontrollably.
She felt like passing out. She can't do this. No way in hell. No fucking way. Not in a million years. The knife clatters to the ground as Frenda slides down the wall, her body giving out completely. She curls up on the cold pavement, sobbing uncontrollably.
Frenda needed help. She wanted one. She did NOT come to this city to have the life of one of her close friends or herself ruined, for a mere errand from someone who never cares about her life. Frenda was tired. She was drained. She's had enough.
The cold pavement seeps through her clothes as Frenda sits, curled up against the wall, her body racked with sobs. Her phone buzzes again, but she can't bring herself to look at it. The nausea has subsided, leaving her feeling weak and hollow. The knife, now several feet away, glints dully in the lamplight.
She couldn't believe what she was about to do. How could she have even considered it? Frenda feels like the lowest scum on Earth, a traitor to everything she believes in. Her sobs quiet as she regains some control over herself, but the pain and self-loathing remain, a heavy weight pressing down on her chest.
The rain finally arrives, starting as a light drizzle that quickly turns into a downpour.
Fremea must be really really scared right now. Alone at the apartment while it was raining out in the middle of the night too. She should just go home. Kuroko must be asleep by now anyways. It's not like she can't tell her the truth later, once things have calmed down. Frenda slowly pushes herself up from the ground. The rain soaks her clothes and hair, but she doesn't care.
Right now, she's tired. She just wants to sleep. And possibly never wake up again.
"I could really use some prescription glasses." Uiharu murmured under her breath, rubbing her eyes as she stared at the blurry screen of her computer monitor. She craned her head over towards a bewildered Ruiko, who was laying on a certain couch, munching on a chip, head set on her arm. "What colour do you think would suit my face, Ruiko-san?"
"Hm? What? Oh, you mean glasses?" Ruiko sat up and turned towards her, clearly caught off guard. She looked at Uiharu's face intently, her brow furrowed in concentration. "Hmm, well, since your hair is already black, plus your skin is super pale, I'd say maybe something bright? Like, a bold red or a vibrant blue? Something that really pops against your features."
Uiharu tilted her head, considering the suggestion. "Hmm, that does sound nice. But I'm not sure I can pull off such a bold color." She sighed, her attention returning to the screen. "Maybe I should get myself contact lenses instead? They're less distracting when I'm working, especially when I'm all into the work."
"True, true. But contacts can be a pain to put in and take out, you know?" Ruiko reached for another chip, her free hand gesturing animatedly as she spoke. "Plus, I heard some people have trouble with them, especially if you have dry eyes or sensitive eyes or something. But hey, it's your choice, right?"
"Yeah, you're right." Uiharu's fingers tapped against the desk, her brow furrowing as she continued to stare at the screen. "But I really need to do something about my vision. I don't want to develop myopia or something like that."
"I bet!" Ruiko finished her chip and dusted off her hands, standing up. "Why don't you just get it checked out at an optometric expert or something? I'm sure they have some kind of vision test there, and if you need glasses, they can probably help you pick a pair that looks good on you."
"Oh, that's a great idea, Ruiko-san!" Uiharu's face lit up, a smile spreading across her features. "I didn't even think of that."
"Well, you're always in front of a computer. The super cool, nice and kind and smart Ruiko is here to save the day, as always!" Ruiko struck a dramatic pose, striking a heroic pose with her hands on her hips, a grin plastered on her face. "Now, shall we go check it out? I'm pretty sure there's a place not too far from here. Just a 10 minute walk. I could use more chips anyways."
"O-oh, right now?" Uiharu's face flushed a light pink, caught off guard by Ruiko's sudden enthusiasm. "I-I suppose I could do that. It's not like I have anything important to do right now." She saved her current work and stood up.
"Okay, let's go then."
They were heading for the door when they stumbled upon a surprising sight. By the glass door, stood a certain blond that they haven't seen for some time now.
Frenda had her fingers wrapped around the door handle, looking as though she was contemplating whether or not she should get in or not. Even from here, it was clear that the blond was nervous. Extremely so. Her gaze is unfocused, pinned on the stair steps, as if she's trying to make a decision.
Even the way she dressed looked peculiar. Her skirt was wrinkled, her hair was messy, and her face was pale, almost sickly. She looked like she had just woken up.
"Frenda-san?" Ruiko called out, opening the door, surprising the blond. The ravenette's brow furrowing almost immediately after out of concern. "Are you okay? You look... different." She approached her cautiously, as if afraid of startling her. "Did something happen?"
Frenda's head jerked up at Ruiko's voice, her eyes wild and unfocused. She took a stumbling step back, nearly losing her balance. "I-I..." She swallowed hard, her throat dry and raspy. "I'm fine. Just fine." Her words trembled, and she hugged herself tightly, as if trying to physically hold herself together.
Uiharu stepped forward, her face etched with concern. "Frenda-san, are you sure you're okay?" She gently placed a hand on the blond's arm. "You look like you're about to pass out. Should we call an ambulance?"
At the mention of an ambulance, Frenda's eyes widened in panic. "No! I mean, I'm fine." She took another shaky breath, her hand raised in a manner that told them to hold on. "I just... I..." Frenda's attention shifts to the side, looking past their shoulders into the Judgement Office room. Her face falls, and her shoulders slump in defeat. "I... I need to talk to Kuroko. Is she here?"
Ruiko and Uiharu exchange worried glances, their concern growing. "She's inside. She's having lunch right now. Would you like me to-" Frenda cut Ruiko off before she could finish, shaking her head frantically.
"No. No, that's fine. I can... I can go find her." Her words become quieter. Something is troubling the usually energetic, lively girl. And it's genuinely disturbing to see. "I just..." She pauses, struggling to speak. "Can you tell me which room she's in?" Her eyes remain unfocused, and she speaks in a shaky whisper, her emotions evident in every word.
It is scary, whatever this problem is. This girl is usually the one who makes things lively - the heartbeat of the group, the one who brightens up a room with her smile and laughter. But now, she is completely different, almost like a shell of her former self. Her hair is disheveled, her clothes wrinkled, and her face pale with an almost sickly pallor. The way she's clutching her bag tightly to her chest, as if it's her only lifeline, is telling of how unsteady she is feeling.
"I'd like to talk to her. Privately. Please?" Frenda's request hangs in the air, her words laced with desperation. Ruiko and Uiharu exchange uncertain glances, their concern evident. After a moment of hesitation, Ruiko gently leads her inside with a hand on the blond's shoulder, doing her best to make sure that her touch is soft and comforting.
"Frenda, I think you should sit down first. You don't look well at all." She gently guides Frenda to the couch, and Frenda slumps onto it, her face contorted with what looks like overwhelming emotional pain.
"I'm going to get Kuroko," Ruiko whispers softly before heading off into a certain part of the office.
Uiharu knelt beside Frenda, her face etched with concern. "Are you sure you're okay? You can talk to me if you need to. I won't judge." She gently pats Frenda's hand. She felt unbelievably cold.
Frenda doesn't respond, her attention fixed on the floor, her shoulders shaking slightly. It's clear she's struggling to hold back tears. Uiharu glances at the door, wondering if those two will be here soon. The silence between them is tense and heavy with unspoken tension. Frenda's breathing remains rugged and uneven, and her grip on her bag only tightens further. Uiharu notices a faint tremble running through the blonde's body.
Finally, Ruiko returns to the room. The twin tailed girl in tow. "What's... oh." Kuroko's face immediately changes to one of shock and concern as she sees the state of the blond. "What happened?" She slowly made her way towards the blond, who was slowly and surely unraveling before their very eyes. "Frenda?"
The girl had this look in her eyes, a look that made it clear she was on the verge of breaking down. Her usually vibrant blue eyes were now dull and lifeless, and her hands were shaking uncontrollably. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead, a single tear rolled down her cheek, and she buried her face in her hands, her shoulders heaving with silent sobs. The atmosphere in the room was thick with tension and unspoken emotion.
Kuroko's face hardened with resolve as she knelt beside Frenda, gently pulling the crying girl into her arms. Frenda's arms wrapped around Kuroko tightly, clinging to her as if she was a lifeline. Her muffled sobs echoed through the room, filling the space with the raw intensity of her pain.
Uiharu and Ruiko exchange worried glances, their hearts aching at the sight before them. Kuroko's gentle touch and soft words do little to calm Frenda, who seems to be completely unraveling in her arms. Her sobs grow louder, more desperate, as if the dam holding back her emotions has finally burst. Frenda's usually vibrant blonde hair now hangs limply around her face, matted with tears and sweat.
"I don't want to die... I don't want to die...!" Frenda's words came out in a desperate, choked sob. Her grip on Kuroko tightened, as if afraid the other girl would disappear. Kuroko's face flashed with shock and concern, her hands moving to gently stroke Frenda's back in an attempt to soothe her.
"Shh, it's okay Frenda. You're not going to die." Kuroko's voice is soft, but firm as she tries to calm the hysterical girl. "We're here. We're all here for you." She glances up at Uiharu and Ruiko, silently asking for their help.
Uiharu moves closer, her hand gently patting Frenda's back. "That's right, Frenda-san. We're all here for you."
Ruiko kneels on the other side of Frenda, her hand resting on the blonde's shoulder. "Frenda, what happened? You can tell us. We're your friends." Her words are gentle, but firm, trying to coax the truth out of the distressed girl.
Frenda's sobs gradually subside, but her breathing remains rugged and uneven. She lifts her head slowly, her usually bright blue eyes now red and swollen from crying, and her hair is a tangled mess. Frenda's normally vibrant and cheerful demeanor is completely stripped away, leaving behind a girl who looks utterly shattered. "I... I didn't mean to... I swear to God, I didn't mean to..." Her words waver, but she forces them out.
The atmosphere in the room is heavy with tension as Frenda struggles to speak. Her hands are still shaking, and she clutches Kuroko's shirt tightly, as if afraid to let go. Kuroko's face is a picture of concern, her brow furrowed as she listens intently to Frenda's words. Uiharu and Ruiko lean in closer, their faces etched with worry and curiosity.
"Mugino Shizuri is gonna kill us both, and it's because of me."
I think this chapter's kinda weak, ngl. Definitely 6.9/10, frfr.
Anyways, I'd like to apologize for not publishing last week. I didn't expect to go on a vacation on some random city I didn't I'd expect to go back to for a while. It was fun, spending most of my time there taking care of my mentally ill aunt (who soaked an entire cloth with piss, may you ask).
Definitely fun and not mentally demanding!
"Mugino Shizuri is gonna kill us both, and it's because of me."
And, you know the drill...
New shit next week!