She didn't sleep well that night.
It wasn't particularly surprising, considering her nervousness, but it definitely was going to make her first day of school much worse.
After they had eaten their late lunch, most people had wandered off to do their own things, and she had drawn Riko into a trip down to the river, Geto's wolf-like curse following loosely behind them to lead them back to the school. Riko had a good eye for shiny stones, and Midori wasn't afraid to get wet, making them a great team.
They walked back to the school hours later with wet clothes, pockets weighted down damp beautiful stones, and bright smiles on both of their faces. She had gotten Riko to promise to hunt down some paints at some point and spend the day painting the river stones.
It had been a pleasant way to end a rough day, even if her sleep was patchy at best.
When Yaga woke her up at seven in the morning, any pleasant feelings leftover from the day before evaporated like smoke.
She couldn't be mad at him, she had agreed to this, but it still sucked.
Getting dressed, carefully choosing clothes that went well together, eating a quick breakfast, scrambling to make sure all of her school supplies tucked away safely in her backpack.
Did she pack her pencils?
Yaga stopped her before she could shrug her backpack off and could check for the third time, his hands on her shoulders. He unzipped her backpack, putting something big inside it before zipping it back up.
"I've fixed up the protection doll. Keep it in your backpack and bring it with you during recess. Never leave it behind, alright?" Yaga instructed firmly.
Was that what he put in there, that creepy doll? She was going to have to pull it out before she could get anything out of her backpack too.
"Won't the teachers say anything?" She asked after a pause.
"It won't move while non-sorcerers are around unless there is an aggressive curse nearby." He answered, and there wasn't a hint of compromise in his voice.
Apparently, she was carrying her own babysitter around. It was heavy, weighing her backpack down far more than she had planned.
Before she could even climb in the car to leave, she was ambushed by all the students, all awake and bright-eyed, ruffling her nicely brushed hair, bumping her around playfully and wishing her good luck.
Yaga had to drag her out of the pile of students by her backpack after checking his watch pointedly, even though Gojo clung to her like a limpet, making a general nuisance of himself, pleading eyes ineffective against Yaga. Yu-nii didn't stoop to begging, but his worried expression was practically the same thing, and Nanami's hand found his shoulder comfortingly as his expression dropped the further away she got down the stairs. Shoko and Geto settled for waves, and Riko shouted well wishes.
She was tense as a bowstring by the time she finally sat down on the child safety seat that Yaga had installed at some point. He was really putting a lot of effort into her care.
She'd appreciate it a lot more if it wasn't so uncomfortable. He buckled her in tightly, overstuffed backpack on the floor at her feet. It felt so humiliatingly childish.
The trip was agonizingly tense, both of them completely silent, and she was on the verge of pulling her hair out by the time the school came into view.
It was quite a large school, with wide windows and a large playground. Young children were scattered around, walking mostly alone as they headed to their classes. As Yaga found a parking spot he pulled out a piece of paper and tucked it into his pocket before leaving the car to set her free from the confines of the overly complex car seat.
He led her up to the front entrance, her hand in his. Her arm was shaking slightly, the handful of cursed energy that she hadn't bothered to put away responding to her nerves.
Her cursed energy, when removed from the seal and in absence of orders, actually would start to thaw and eventually reach a comfortable temperature, which gave credence to the idea that her seal may be the reason for the , when she got agitated, as she had been for the entire morning so far, it was like cracking an instant ice pack as her cursed energy went from comfortably to bitingly cold.
Maybe the seal itself was agitating her cursed energy?
Yaga led her with surprising surety through the school to her classroom. Had he visited the school beforehand?
Room 306 stood in front of her, surprisingly intimidating despite the cheerful flowers painted on it in bright colors.
For a few moments, she halted, leaning backwards against the gentle tug of Yaga's hand.
"If you need anyone to come and get you, all you have to do is tell your sensei, alright? I told the principal an edited version of your history, and he assured me that she won't expect too much from you yet until you get more comfortable." Yaga said, and his voice was so gently reassuring that it made her breath hitch tellingly and she tugged a little bit more cursed energy free just to shore herself up a little more against the strong urge to cry, standing a little straighter.
She stepped into the room cautiously, and jumped backwards right back out in surprise when a chorus of cheery voices greeted her the moment she poked her head inside.
"Welcome, Midori-chan!" The students and teacher shouted in relative harmony, which trailed off towards the end as she vanished from sight.
One more reassuring pat on her head was the last thing Yaga did before turning and walking away. She watched him leave and it felt like he was leaving her on the field of battle, promising to pick her up later.
She could still chase after him. They could leave and never come back and she could pick a different school to try next time.
One step through the door was all it took to get bombarded a second time with a much more discordant chorus of noise, making her flinch a little, but she held her ground successfully.
"Midori-chan!" The teacher said, loud and cheerful in the way that people were when talking to young children, "Welcome to the class! My name is Ito-sensei! Your seat is right there in the middle, and you can leave your backpack in that cubby over there!"
She pointed to said seat and cubby and Midori obeyed quietly before taking her seat. Everyone was staring until Ito clapped her hands together sharply announcing that the class was starting.
The lessons were more or less what she had expected, simple, colorful, and achingly boring. Kids kept watching her and whispering to each other in too loud voices.
What's with her eyes?
Do you think she likes to play tag?
What's her name again?
Why didn't she start school when we did?
The teacher seemed to be hearing the whispers too, rapping sharply on the board several times to get the kids' attention. It never worked for long, the children were too intrigued by the novelty sitting dead center in the classroom.
She felt like she was surrounded on all sides by the dozens of prying eyes, like their eyes were trying to dig their way under her skin. It felt like there were bugs tunneling under her skin, the discomfort making her body go cold and her heart pound in her chest.
Finally, after a seemingly eternal lesson on how to write up to ten, complete with tracing the numbers out with stencils, it was snack time, which gave her the room to get out of the spotlight for once.
She rushed to her backpack, pulling out the cursed corpse masquerading as a simple plush to get to the packet of fruit snacks that Yaga had packed into her backpack along with a bento that she hadn't seen him prepare. Who knew what was in it? Hopefully a bonito flake onigiri. She took the fruit snacks, because other students were swarming the cubbies, and she really didn't feel like being so crowded.
It seemed like snack time was also the permission that the students needed to start approaching her.
"Hi!" One kid said too loudly, shoving his crumb covered hand in her face as a greeting.
"My name's Ryuko!" He said, forgoing a last name. She didn't have one at all yet. She should get one. Did she take Yaga's, or could someone just give her one? Gojo would suck at it, though. He wasn't going to get naming privileges. Yu-nii could probably think of a good one for her, very meaningful.
"Nice to meet you, Ryuko-san." She said, not reaching out to shake his hand, and he dropped it with a confused look on his face.
"Midori-chan, are you not from Japan?" Ito asked curiously, having been keeping an eye on their conversation.
She didn't know how to answer that. What had Yaga told her teacher? Did she have an established backstory to use yet?
Thankfully, Ito was apparently a kind woman and continued after her extended silence.
"Usually, you would address Ryuko-kun using kun, or even a shortened form of his name, like Ryu-kun, not Ryuko-san. It isn't wrong, but it might confuse him a bit and make him think you don't like him." The teacher explained.
Oops. It wasn't like she was raised like this, she was totally winging it. She probably talked like an anime character. She had wanted to be polite. Maybe it was like calling him Mr. Ryuko, which was definitely an odd way to seriously address a four-year-old.
Ryuko-kun or Ryu-kun?
"Sorry, Ryu-kun," She said, deciding on the less formal version after her misstep.
"It's alright!" He said, bright smile back on his face.
"Do you like Totoro-san?" He asked, pointing to her backpack. She nodded slowly. She hadn't watched the movie yet, had she?
He was chattering away at her about the movie within seconds, and she took her chance to eat her fruit snacks as he did so, eventually moving on to various information about himself.
His mom's name was Ryuki, and he didn't have a dad, but he had a younger sister named Yuki-chan, or Yu-chan for short. Ryu-kun loves studio Ghibli movies, but had never watched Grave of Fireflies, and he also loves running, climbing, and his best friend here was Kei-kun, whoever that was. Ito-sensei was super cool, but she didn't like it when students leaned backwards in their seats too far, and she liked math the best.
The kid really liked to talk about himself and wasn't bothered by her general disinterest in giving out her own personal information. Most of the animes she liked weren't even out yet.
Eventually snack time ended, and he had to go back to his seat, leaving her in relative peace for the next lesson, this one involving recognizing different basic Kanji, mostly emergency information like exit or warning signs. It might have been handy if her brain didn't auto-translate everything.
A bathroom break followed that lesson, then they were released for recess, finally. She dragged her backpack along behind her, leaving it leaned against the wall. Hopefully it would be close enough.
It took less than a minute of observation to realize that she really wasn't on these kids' level.
It wasn't that they were profoundly physically incapable. They walked, ran and jumped in the slightly clumsy way that normal young children did.
They were just so slow. She probably wouldn't even need cursed energy to outrun most of them, even using the amount she had, just under ten percent, was just unfair. She could probably do a cartwheel right now and she just saw a kid fumble a somersault. It wasn't too extreme of a difference, but it was shocking, nonetheless.
Could she cartwheel?
How did it go again? Pick a foot, move quickly, use the same hand, keep her back straight, right?
She moved her right foot first, then lifted right hand in the air and moved one smooth motion into a surprisingly good cartwheel.
She could do a cartwheel! Probably better than her old body could, with her cursed energy.
It seemed to help with just about every physical activity, breathing, walking, doing cartwheels. This magic was just the best!
Could she even do sports like this fairly?
She could just not use cursed energy… but it just felt bad to her. Her cursed energy felt so natural to her, so responsive, that not using it now that she was allowed to feel oddly wrong. But using it during sports was practically like using steroids, it was such a physical advantage over normal kids. Once she grew up, she wouldn't feel bad at all about beating them by a mile but using it in a competition with children felt morally wrong.
If she had cursed energy in her past life, how different could it have been?
Ryu-kun shouted an invitation to play tag, so she shoved most of her cursed energy back down, leaving only the smallest handful leftover. Just enough to give her an edge over the others if she needed a burst of strength or speed.
A decent compromise for now at least, if still mildly cheating. She needed to mull over the moral implications of using her cursed energy in sports.
People had natural physical advantages while playing sports, wasn't her cursed energy a natural thing too? But it was so uncommon, the chance that she would ever run into anyone with the same advantage was low. How many sorcerers played sports?
Ryu-kun was It, and when she signaled that she would play he immediately lunged for her. Guess she was a target just by virtue of being new. This kid was probably top dog in the class and using her to prove that he was still on top, even with the changing dynamic.
She rushed straight for a nearby tree. A knot made for an easy foothold and that was all she needed to do a cursed energy assisted leap, reaching a lower branch and pulling herself upwards.
Ryu-kun circled the tree, and managed to pull himself up too, but she climbed higher in the branches, until they creaked ominously, and he hesitated to climb any higher. He'd have to get down eventually. She would tree herself as often as she needed to in order to stop him from purposely targeting her.
It was a standoff, and a girl called out in concern as Ryu-kun dared pull himself along the branch to get a little closer and she shifted further away, making the tree creak ominously.
"Get down from that tree right now!" Ito called out and Ryu-kun obeyed quickly. He had been nervous, but determined to tag her anyways, and he seemed grateful for the excuse to climb back down.
She was pretty high up, but as long as she let herself hang and reinforced her legs, she shouldn't be hurt at all.
Ito was panicking a bit as she let herself drop so that she was hanging by only her arms, then one hand as she planned her fall. The teacher was right underneath her, like she was waiting to catch her.
"Excuse me, sensei!" She called, waving for her to move.
"Midori, be careful!" Ito called, clearly very nervous watching her hang with one hand and unwilling to move away. Trying to drop down into her arms wouldn't likely end well.
Ugh.
She swung herself in a sudden movement, her knees flexing to absorb her momentum and her hand reaching out to do the same, landing in a crouch, but completely unharmed.
Her cursed energy just knew where she needed it to go! It was so cool!
Ito grabbed her with an arm around her waist, lifting her into the air and carrying her over to a faded red chair.
"What do you think you were doing?" Ito shouted, making her flinch a little.
"Getting down from the tree?" She said uncertainly. Sure, she might have worried the teacher, but she was clearly completely fine. Trying to jump into the teacher's arms probably would have gotten both of them hurt.
It didn't forestall the scolding she got, or the four minute time out she received.
Whatever.
She hadn't even told her that climbing trees wasn't allowed? How was she supposed to know the rules if she hadn't been told them? Mind reading? Cellular osmosis?
Her shoulders were hunched, and her expression was probably sullen as she sat there, forced to sit correctly by the teacher who corrected her posture no less than three times during the four-minute time out period.
The distaste that she felt for this school was growing by the second.
Recess went much more boringly after that, even as her time out ended and she remained seated, just with worse posture. Ito tried convincing her to go back out and play, but she really didn't feel like it anymore, so she just stayed there, watching butterflies flutter by.
One actually landed on her lower leg, and she successfully cajoled it into crawling onto her finger by placing her finger in front of it.
It was a pretty type of butterfly, a tiger striped pale orange color, but its wings were badly torn. It seemed pretty content on her hand, and she plucked a flower carefully for it to- eat? Do butterflies eat nectar from flowers? They liked sweat and blood and poop too, from what she remembered. She didn't sweat much, but she might be able to draw just a little bit of blood to feed it.
They did eat nectar! It crawled over, and she could see a little tendril-like thing reach out to the flower as she held it still as it climbed over.
Then a little boy, maybe a year older than her, reached out and slapped his hand over the flower, crushing it and the butterfly in one strike, and she reacted by punching him so hard he hit the ground several feet away and they both burst into tears.
Why did he do that? What point did he make, killing a butterfly that she was trying to help keep alive just a little bit longer.
Ito-sensei ran back over, taking in the sight of her crying, crouched over the flattened body, bug guts, and torn wings that were all that remained of the pretty little butterfly, and the sobbing boy with a large red spot on his cheek.
The boy was the teacher's priority, being visibly injured, and the woman fussed over him as he babbled tearfully about how she had hit him for no reason.
She didn't really care what he was blaming her for, not when an innocent little creature had to suffer and die because of some random brat's cruel whim.
Could Ieiri save it if she was here?
That… was an idea for sure.
Her cursed energy was already following right behind her brain, trickling out of her fingers very slowly and coating the remains of the butterfly in frost. Some bugs could survive being frozen, especially suddenly.
A long shot was better than no shot, and it was at least something to focus on other than making that kid cry even harder.
"I want to go home!" She said firmly to Ito when the woman looked to her angrily after a teacher's aide took over caring for that brat of a kid.
"You are going right to the principal's office, young lady!" The teacher shouted and she really sounded mad. Various children were watching as the teacher moved, grabbing her roughly by the arm and leading her away. She kept the frozen butterfly and flower clutched protectively in her free hand, but got a chance to grab her backpack, hooking her arm around one strap without opening her loosely clenched fist.
The principal's office was surprisingly large and well decorated, with several chairs where students and teachers could sit to wait. One older kid was sitting there, stiff and sniffling faintly, but she didn't have much of a chance to look at them when she was tugged inside.
He was an older man, probably two decades older than Yaga was right now, his hairline receding and starting to gray. He had kind eyes, she noticed, and when the irate teacher dragged her inside the office, his eyes immediately flicked to the woman's tight hold on her.
He handed her a sheet of paper, and the woman finally let go of her arm in order to take it. She could appreciate how smooth he was, getting her to let go of her before she lost her thinning patience and bit the lady. If it wasn't for the reinforcement of her cursed energy, it could easily have bruised her.
"Midori punched Kei-kun after getting put in timeout for climbing." The woman explained, then started to spill out that same load of bullcrap that the brat, Kei-kun, had been giving the lady.
"And what is your side of the story, Midori-san." The principal asked once Ito was finished.
"I didn't want to play anymore after getting put in time out just for playing, so I was watching the butterflies. One was hurt and it landed on me, and I was trying to feed it and Kei-san smushed it on purpose, so I punched him!" She said hotly, her voice coming faster as she spoke, but she really was mad at that kid. It had been completely pointless! She was purposefully refusing to listen to what Ito had already taught her as well, just to annoy the lady.
"So, you struck him because he killed a butterfly that you were trying to help, is that correct?" He asked, just to confirm, and she nodded.
"And did you believe that he did it on purpose?" He asked carefully.
"Yeah! It was orange and striped, and even if he didn't see the butterfly, why would he smush a flower that I was holding!" She argued back. There was no way that this man was going to convince her that she was completely in the wrong here.
Maybe the kid didn't deserve to get punched in the face, but sometimes it takes peer action to really teach a kid a lesson. If he was willing to kill a butterfly just to upset someone, what would he grow up to be without intervention?
She was just giving him a life lesson. To the face.
"I want to go home." She told the principal firmly, and surprisingly enough he nodded.
"I'll call your guardian and ask him to pick you up. Next time, if another student hurts an insect or an animal, please tell your sensei. It isn't your job to teach other students the right thing to do, alright?" He said calmly to the visible disbelief of Ito.
She couldn't quite believe it either. He just agreed to let her go home, just because she asked? He was picking up the phone already, attached to the wall, and dialing a number, and dismissed them both with a gesture.
No punishment?
"I hope that tomorrow will be a better day for you." He called out as they left, before someone answered the phone, and the heavy door shut with a thump.
Ito didn't seem too pleased with the results, and Midori was still struck by just how… easy that was.
She had asked to go back home and he had agreed, just like that.
Ito instructed her to sit down and wait for her father to come and get her, so she took a seat across from the boy who had been sitting there before.
The first thing she did was open her backpack, hunting down her uneaten bento and opening it, finding a small lidded container full of carrots and dumping them into t the rest of the box before placing the frozen butterfly and flower carefully inside, frosting it again and closing the lid to keep the cold air inside before she finally had the space to sit and think .
Why was she so confused anyway? Part of her had been expecting to be suspended or expelled, or some other punishment. Being forced to stay and told to be quiet, to be shouted at for lashing out.
She was strong, with her cursed energy, and she hadn't held back in her strike either. She hadn't been holding very much, but it was enough that that kid was probably going to be bruised for weeks.
"Why'd you get sent here?" The boy asked shakily. He sounded teary, like he had just finished crying but was still ready to continue at the drop of a hat.
"I punched a kid." She answered him bluntly, and she could see the way he withdrew a little, like he was reevaluating how dangerous she was.
"Why are you here?" She asked, and he winced a little.
"I- um, some of my classmates played a prank on me and I cried a lot, so my sensei told me to wait in the principal's office until my Mom picked me up." His voice trailed off near the end, but he answered anyway.
"Pranks aren't supposed to make you cry." She told him, and he perked up a little bit at the show of support, even as a look of guilt appeared on his face too.
Ah, he was definitely getting bullied.
Was she going to have to be a bodyguard already? She was building herself a reputation, even. His soft, anxious voice was really triggering her protective instincts.
"I just cry easily!" He stammered, like he was trying to defend them.
Poor sweet summer child. She had enough on her plate already without having to teach a kid how to have some self-esteem, but like hell she wasn't going to try.
"What's your name?" She asked, because she was kidding herself to try and even pretend that she wasn't already committed.
"Junpei, it's nice to meet you!" He said, his pitch rising, but it had nothing on the sudden ringing in her ears as she looked the kid dead in the eyes. He flinched a little at her sudden direct eye contact.
She hadn't paid a whole lot of attention to what he looked like, none of his features were quite distinctive enough, but he had all the right colors, dark hair, dark eyes, and no real reason to lie about his name.
"My name's Midori, let's be friends!" She said, choosing directness over beating around the bush. He was as nervous as a fawn, the poor boy, probably in complete disbelief and very uncertain.
"You want to be friends?" He asked, shock making his pitch rise, and the principal peaked his head out, phone hung back up on the wall, probably making sure she hadn't decided to bring her body count up to two already.
"Do you have any friends?" She asked doubtfully, and the kid winced before shaking his head.
"Neither do I! It's my first day. If you teach me the rules around here, I'll teach you how to stop kids from bullying you, alright?" She said, on her feet and offering her hand out to him.
The principal had a look of dread on his face, like he was suddenly having an unpleasant premonition, but she didn't care because Junpei was reaching out his hand to take hers and they shook, sealing the deal.
"Can you really not climb trees here?" She asked critically and sat down next to Junpei, and Junpei laughed a little, an adorably sweet smile on his face for a moment before answering.
"It's a legal liability." He said, trying to sound wise, but stumbling adorably over the last word.
She wanted to coo over him like a mother hen. He was adorable!
She'd kill those kids who were hurting him, because when he started listing out rules and gesturing animatedly, he would wince while lifting his left arm, and if she moved too quickly, he would flinch.
What were the chances that he could come home with her today, for a quick playdate involving sneaky uses of reverse curse technique from Ieiri?
Low.
Didn't mean she couldn't try.
"Want to come home to play today?" She asked suddenly at the first lull in the conversation.
He flailed a little, and she was probably moving a little fast for him. School wasn't even over yet, but was he really going to sit here in the principal's office until his mother finally showed up?
"The principal could call your parents and ask?" She offered, and he actually seemed to be considering it.
"Would your parents really be ok with it?" He questioned, and he really seemed reluctantly hopeful.
"Yaga-san would probably be delighted that I made a friend already." She told him bluntly, and his smile was hesitant, but faded as he looked at the principal door.
Poor boy had anxiety. He could deal with it later, when his self-esteem wasn't in the dirt.
She got up, knocking firmly on the door.
Something about interacting with someone else who also had anxiety really got rid of hers. She loved to help people enough that other people's anxiety would override her own.
She was the mom-friend, apparently.
The principal answered promptly and immediately cast a glance towards Junpei like he was checking on the boy.
She wasn't a serial offender yet or anything, would a little trust kill him?
"Junpei-kun wants to come and play with me when Yaga-san comes and picks me up. Can you call his parents and ask?" She asked, and she was probably a little heavy handed with the pleading in her voice, but the principal was surprisingly quick to agree.
She was heavy handed with her problem solving, and he was unwilling to fight back, he probably hoped that they would balance each other out into a happy medium, and two of his students' disciplinary problems would be solved with minimal intervention.
She was already pretty set in her personality and sense of self though, even with the new body, so it probably wouldn't turn out quite the way he hoped.
As they waited for his mother to give them permission they kept chattering on about various subjects. Junpei came out of his shell surprisingly fast when given the chance, and she knew enough about movies to keep his interest, even if she was definitely not a horror movie person.
He didn't shy away from the gory details either, which might have been enough to scare away an actual child, and he got more confident and excitable when she didn't respond with disgust. She'd literally lost an eye less than a week ago, graphic depictions of fantasy violence didn't phase her much.
The look of regret on the principals face was wondrous as he peeked his head out to confirm that his mother had agreed, midway between Junpei's description of a teenager getting peeled like a grape as she nodded along and their agreement that the scene really had just been unnecessarily gory and probably just been included in an attempt to get the movie an R rating.
His mom might love him, but she was clearly seriously neglectful, for him to have access to those types of movies at his age. She seemed like an overly permissive parent, never giving him the structure that he needed in order to feel secure.
Yaga arrived maybe fifteen minutes later, walking right into their passionate discussion on what counted as acceptable reasons to kill off characters.
The correct answer was never, obviously. Not unless the plot absolutely required it, and even then, avoid excessively killing characters just for the sake of emotional impact.
Gege was probably taking psychic damage on the spot from the shade she was throwing at them, wherever they were in the world at this point in time.
Yaga took in the sight of her talking animatedly with another kid and was probably pumping his fists in victory internally, for all his stern face gave away.
"Yaga-sensei! This is Junpei-kun, he's getting bullied, and he likes movies, and his parents gave him permission to come home with us to play." She said, a little too fast to sound composed, but she was really hoping that he would agree.
He paused for just a few seconds too long.
"He also knows all the rules for going to school here, so I won't get in trouble as often!" She said, her final push to try and get him to accept, but Yaga still hadn't responded.
"It's alright, "Junpei started to say, despite the disappointment on his face, his smile fading away, "Mom will come and get me after school, and we can see each other tomorrow!"
Despite his words, his tone was horribly sad. It was heartbreaking.
"I don't have a second safety seat." Yaga finally answered slowly, like it was obvious.
Ah.
"Drive slowly?" She offered after a beat.
"What's a safety seat?" Junpei asked, his tone still achingly sad but a little confused too.
Did she just watch Yaga mentally adopt a second- no, with Panda it would be third, child?
The conversation went silent for a moment, and Junpei visibly quailed under Yaga's gaze, like he was afraid he had intruded somehow.
"How old are you?" He finally asked, appraising, and Junpei was quick to answer.
"I'm six!"
Yaga finally nodded, gesturing for them to follow.
"Children are legally required to be in a child safety seat while in a car until they turn six years old. It isn't something that usually results in a fine, but you'll generally get a very stern warning if caught. Not to mention how dangerous it could be if you were in a car accident." Yaga explained to Junpei as they walked, the boy was trailing behind them nervously.
Yaga was awfully intimidating, especially for an anxious young boy.
They reached the car quickly, and she was firmly buckled in yet again, and Junpei watched her misfortune with visible confusion.
Neglectful mother, that's all she had to say.
That was a lie, she had a thirty-minute rant already written out in her head, but the one she planned to say it to wouldn't be here until six apparently.
They drove home in relative silence, and Junpei was fidgeting nervously.
She had him grab the container holding the butterfly for her at a stoplight, opening it for a moment as if to peer inside, and stealthily used a trailing finger to let out her cursed energy to ensure the butterfly stayed frozen long enough. They split the carrots afterwards, with Yaga's careful warning to chew carefully and eat only one at a time.
They reached the school, and she led him eagerly up the steps, dropping her backpack off in her room quickly before leading the way to the infirmary, where hopefully Ieiri would be.
She threw open the door, stumbling to a stop as she took in the sight of Nanami, covered in blood, cursed spirit and human, getting his arm examined carefully by Ieiri, while Yu-nii waited fretfully on the sidelines, much less dirty. Was that a pile of needles on the table where Nanami sat?
Junpei stumbled into her from behind, pushing her further into the room, gaping at the sight of Nanami. Both the first years stared at the boy, equally surprised, and Ieiri took the chance to pull one final needle free in one quick motion, making Nanami jolt even as the hole closed up.
"What happened to you?" Junpei asked, confused. Could he see the cursed spirit's blood or just Nanami's?
"It was a porcupine!" Haibara jumped in, smooth as ever.
"Why's that blood purple?" Junpei questioned, not really affected by the gore at all, just curious.
Her question was answered, and the sorcerers visibly relaxed a bit as they realized that he could see curses too. It was a lot harder to explain why someone got mauled by a porcupine than why someone got mauled by a curse, apparently.
"Ieiri-san, I froze a butterfly, and I was hoping you could save it!" She said quickly as the doctor finished, handing Nanami a white towel to clean most of the blood off.
"Why did you freeze a butterfly at all?" Yu-nii asked, concerned, but she waved him off.
"I tried to feed it because it was hurt, but a kid smashed it, so I punched him and froze it to try and keep it alive long enough for Ieiri-san to save it!" She answered in a rush, showing the lidded container to Ieiri, who roughly shoved Nanami off the table now that he was fully healed to make way for her to place the butterfly on the operating table.
Junpei followed out of curiosity, and he really was taking this whole thing rather well!
The two of them gathered around to watch as Ieiri returned from washing her hands with a new pair of gloves on, carefully removing the crushed butterfly from the container and brushing her hand over it doubtfully.
Within seconds the butterfly seemed to regain its definition, main body going from flattened to rounded, antenna straightening, and it's wings knit themselves back together, better than before. Moments later it was flapping wildly around the infirmary, to the absolute astonishment of everyone in the room.
"It's still alive!" Junpei shouted, pointing at it, and the delight in his voice broke the spell that had kept her frozen, and she jumped up in excitement, hugging the equally astonished doctor tightly.
She opened the door, letting it flutter out and right out the open window.
"How was it still alive?" Nanami asked, bewildered, and Midori just shrugged, still bouncing on the toes of feet like a little dance.
"It was frozen! I froze it fast enough! It survived!" She cheered, hands fluttering because she wasn't quite sure what to do with them, and Ieiri shook herself out of her shock enough to stammer out a congratulations. If anyone should be congratulated it should be Ieiri, she successfully resuscitated a bug!
She was laughing, and it was a little bit deranged, but it felt like pure victory against the world, against random senseless violence.
Sure, the butterfly probably wouldn't even last a week. In the grand scheme of things, the life of one simple butterfly meant absolutely nothing, not the slightest thing.
But it was everything to her.
She played Dungeons and Dragons, in her old life.
There had been one moment, after a battle and a fearsome defense of their keep, when they returned home after killing the dragon to find the keep defended and their army victorious, but citizens and soldiers lay dead after a breach in the walls.
They had a cauldron of rebirth, which could revive a person with minimal cost, taking eight hours and only able to be used every seven days. It could only revive people who were dead for less than ten days.
No one who they cared about, who had established names, had died. The material cost was easily findable within the time limit.
They could have brought two people back to life, two people who didn't deserve to die.
Nothing that she said made a difference to the other players, they all agreed that the risk of outrage of the other families who had also lost someone was too great. That it was better to do nothing at all than risk the backlash of the villagers. They, a team of level eight characters, capable of fighting adult dragons, scared of the wrath of a small-town worth of villagers owned and fond ofthem.
She had never forgotten that moment, when the six other players all agreed that it was simply better not to make that choice, because they didn't have the right to play god.
Was it better to not help anyone at all because you can't help everyone?
They could have lied, and said that the two that they saved had simply been playing dead or revivable, swearing them to secrecy. There was no cost barrier, no 500 gold worth of diamonds to spend like if the spell was cast normally, only 10 gold worth of salt.
They could have asked a random soldier to bring two bodies, anyone as long as they were on their side, and called it simple luck, or searched for the youngest, the most necessary, the most important, or just whoever happened to be closest.
There was every opportunity to do good and everyone else refused. Out of fear.
The butterfly lived.
It hurt no one and required a laughable amount of effort on Ieiri's part, judging by her surprise. All she had to do was keep it cold enough until she reached Ieiri.
There might have been a cognitive dissonance between her and the other players, that she couldn't figure out how to bridge. Maybe she was too immature, too idealistic.
She just didn't care about the potential consequences, about what other people would think. Maybe they would have been run out of town, maybe the villagers would always have been wondering 'why didn't you save them, why did you pick him and not her.'
If there was a lottery, but instead of money, a family member or friend who had died recently would be returned to life, how many people would choose to play it? Some might feel bitter, and betrayed, but did that make the hope not worth it? Would most people prefer to not even take the chance?
Maybe two people who had died could have been lived.
If she could help, then she must.
It had just been a game. A roleplaying game, even. But she had begged them to let her help, to let her take all of the blame, just give her the cauldron and she could do everything, let her take the villager's anger, let her make the choice and handle the guilt that came with who lived and who stayed dead. She just wanted to save someone, anyone who they could.
They refused.
And nothing in her heart could let her understand why.
There was a reason that she had chosen to study psychology.
She walked over to the window and leaned against it, letting her arms hang over the edge so that she could see outside. Ieiri had been humoring her more than anything, most likely preparing herself to hold a nice little funeral for the unfortunate little bug.
Sometimes miracles happen. Even for insignificant little bugs.
The butterfly was fluttering around in the sunlight, landing on a flowering bush, happy as a little bug could be.
Junpei appeared in her peripheral vision, also craning his head out to watch.
"Did that doctor just bring a dead bug back to life?" He asked, and his tone was an odd mix of accepting and bewildered at the same time.
She giggled like a loon at his voice, and he had a confused smile on his face in return, like he wasn't sure what the joke was. She wasn't quite sure either, her emotions going wild. It must have looked pretty odd for just about everyone involved, just watching Ieiri resuscitate a random frozen bug.
The butterfly flew onwards, until it was out of sight.