Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

If one had asked Yosano at any given moment if she was having a good day, she would probably respond unfavourably. However, that day from start to finish had been absolute hell. She of all people would know, as she often sent people there and brought them right back (though, she would be inclined to agree that neither place was better than the other). 

Usually, a large set of factors contributed to her perception of punishment. If it wasn't the hordes of ground-level members not taking care of themselves and then coming to her after a particularly hard mission for her to go and make them suffer for their wrongs as a way of fixing, or then cleaning up said the aftermath of fixing, then it was her having the major dishonour of having to face Kouyou's criticisms first thing in the morning.

That day, she was unable to get even a wink of sleep. She wasn't sure if it was due to the lack of a proper bed that was keeping her up at night or something else, because boy did she have things to plague her like real waking nightmares. It had been days since Kouyou- she still cringes when she remembers calling her by her given name- had given her the invitation to just return to her apartment. Yosano had said she would think about it, and she had if thinking for two minutes and then pushing the thought away constituted as thinking about it. There were so many reasons that contributed to her wanting nothing more than to avoid that apartment altogether.

For one, it didn't matter if he didn't buy it personally, that apartment was still connected to Mori. Sure, the building her office was in technically was too, but that was different, it wasn't like she had any choice there. She had to show up to work and if she didn't she didn't even want to know what would happen. However, she didn't have to go to that apartment. She wasn't obligated to and no one was forcing her. Any opportunity she had to defy that man without being directly in his line of fire she would take as a win.

Kouyou, as much as she tried, was another reason she was avoiding that place. It didn't matter how much she claimed she wouldn't bother her, Yosano knew it was in her nature to harass her soul. There was no way she would leave her alone, especially when she'd have easy access to her living space when she would inevitably avoid her meetings at work. 

But the main thing was the nightmares.

Yosano didn't talk much, definitely more than before now that she was an executive. Before her promotion, she'd only speak maybe once, twice a week. Being a Mafia doctor's secret part-time executioner wasn't a line of work that required a lot of interpersonal skills. She had gotten better at it, sure, but she still found times when she'd rather not talk at all for certain periods.

Compared to that constant silence, the screams she made from her nightmares were horrifying. Her brain always blocked out the contents of such dreams within about a minute of waking up, but she'd always remember how they'd feel. The way the muscle in her chest would hammer against her ribcage and refuse to cease till hours after. That in itself was a weakness and half the reason she didn't even bother sleeping at all. If anyone found out about that, it would be bad for everyone.

The office had no windows, but it did have a clock. A stupid one that had come with the room, where the two red hands resembled a moustache on the strangely drawn face. It was almost midday already. There was nothing urgent on her agenda that she needed to get done immediately, so she had a bit of time. It was a strange occurrence for her entire day to be clear of immediate responsibilities, and she couldn't quite think of any reason why that may be. To be fair though, her mind was running on a low battery, so any thought that could be formed wouldn't even be coherent enough for anything to make sense anyway. She did need to sleep.

She'd intended to test out the apartment again, and she did. But that building was way too far for her to get there the way she was feeling right then. So sliding into her office chair, she buried her head into her arms and fell asleep.

After trying and failing attempts to sleep for a pitiful 25 minutes, luckily too short for her mind to even formulate any terrifying thoughts, she woke up to a single knock on her office door and a slip of paper sliding under the gap at the bottom. Dragging herself out from behind her desk, she trudged over to the door to pick up the note.

Training, noon. Don't be late.

- K O

Scoffing softly, Yosano tossed the note into the trash and shrugged off her coat. She wasn't planning on interacting with anyone today, nor did she have the energy to. But it was better to meet Kouyou wherever she asked, or else she would turn up at her door anyway and that in itself was a nuisance. Considering the less annoying option, she left whatever she had in the office and stepped out, locking the door behind her. Trudging up the dark stairwell, Yosano averted her eye from the sun when she opened the door, hissing slightly in discomfort.

When was the last time she’d left her office? She couldn't remember, it might have been the last session with Kyuu, though that was days ago. There weren't any missions, and the boss rarely set any meetings for her unless the premise was for whomever she was meeting with to be killed. So she had no reason to leave, and when she had no reason she saw no reason to step out of the confines of her comfort in the darkness of her office. Maybe it was a habit picked up from the containment facility, but it was one she was pretty comfortable with and that she had no plan of changing anytime soon.

The hallway felt longer than usual as she trudged down to the usual training room. Bad days were normal for her, but today in particular felt especially bad. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but the feeling was unmistakable. This always happened especially around anniversaries of her worst memories, but as far as she could remember nothing could have made her feel as bad as she did today.

Her eye throbbed as she stepped through the training room door. The hum of the fluorescent light droned above them as if a whisper of a laugh. It taunted her and her memory, a soft giggle that looped in her head and intermingled with the pounding on her skull.

As per usual, her partner was early. Rocking the tip of her scabbard back and forth absentmindedly on the floor, Kouyou seated herself cross-legged on the table in the far corner. It was behaviour like that that made Yosano despise her so much because the high and mighty Queen could behave how she pleased when she thought no one was looking but god forbid Yosano tried to sit at a table.

Realising her presence, the older girl jumped off the table, landing silently on the tips of her feet. She wore another pink kimono, a light pink one this time. It seemed to be more forgiving than usual. The fabric was more breathable and seemed to allow more movement as seen by the ease she used to slip off of the table and walk towards her. The fabric fluttered at her sleeves like petals as the girl crossed her arms, Yosano slowly moved to look up at the girl's eyes that were trained on her in pure condescension.

She hadn't been late this time, so she knew that Kouyou would have nothing to scold her over. 

“You could at least say good morning, I know I taught you better than that,” Kouyou commented judgmentally, masking her thinly veiled curiosity over the lack of retort. Yosano only hummed noncommittally, reaching for the hair tie on her wrist to pull her hair out of her face. 

She watched as Kouyou followed her movements with her eyes, tracing the line of her forearm and examining the way two delicate fingers reached beneath the elastic, gently pulling it off of a slim wrist and tying it around the gathered strands of hair. With a small but cruel turn of her lips, she dropped her hands and dusted off her non-existent lint. 

“Good morning, princess,” she replied, her voice rough from sleep. From here, she could almost hear the way Kouyou’s eye twitched in annoyance before she smoothed her expression. Yosano let out a yawn that she wasn’t able to stifle and Kouyou’s eyes lit up like a kid on their birthday.

“Didn’t sleep well, huh?” Kouyou pressed, her eyes judging as she took in Yosano’s attire from the previous day. Yosano’s entire body was buzzing as if she could feel how each atom inside of her solid form was vibrating in place and she swallowed dryly, her lips now pursed tightly. 

“I slept just fine,” she snapped as she thumbed her index finger before biting her thumbnail into the flesh. A shiver crawled up her spine at the girl’s overly critical gaze, causing her to stand rigidly, her shoulders rising to her ears like an irate cat. The floor beneath her spun and morphed before her eyes, odd and irregular translucent shapes gliding across her periphery and she hissed as the light in the room suddenly became brighter. 

Kouyou squinted at her, sizing her up. “Do you want to skip training today?” she asked. Yosano glanced up from her delirium and drank in the tentative expression on Kouyou's face. On top of her thundering headache, she suddenly felt nauseous too.

“Why? Are you not feeling well?” she taunted, the pulsating in her eye echoing in her head.

Scoffing lightly, Kouyou turned to grab her scabbard and unsheathed her sword. “Seems like you're spritely this morning,” she mused, running her forefinger down the edge of the glistening blade. Turning her eyes to Yosano's stiff body, she twirled the katana into a fighting stance and lowered her body, “Let's hope you can keep up."

Thankful for the excuse not to talk and just jump into action, Yosano dodged the first attack and swiftly pulled out one of her smaller blades to retaliate. While throwing one in the direction of the other girl's head with stark precision, she deliberated on whether she should consider adding variety to the sizes of the blades she used. Her wandering mind was brought back, however, to Kouyou's blade, almost giving her a lopsided haircut.

Taking a wide step back, she pulled put the meat cleaver she often kept strapped to her leg beneath her skirt. Unlike Kouyou's sword, it was by no means long. However the size and weight made up for its relatively short stature, and should Yosano ever throw it, she didn't think Kouyou would still have a head after.

So of course she threw it.

Kouyou leaned backwards, narrowly missing the direction of the heavy blade. Somewhere in the distance, the two girls heard it land with the heavy thunk, most likely leaving a lasting impression on the Mafia's mahogany floor. She hid a smile, any mishap that resulted in Mori’s expense was a benefit in her eyes.

As per usual, Yosano got the look that relayed the common question the girl always seemed to receive every time she did something mildly drastic. Of course Kouyou got no response to whether she was crazy or not, so instead of berating her for messing up the floors she did something that Kosano would argue is just as wild in manner.

Without hesitation, the older girl took a running leap and brought down her sword on the other. Using her quick reflexes, Yosano saved herself from sourcing herself a new organ alongside a patch by stopping the point right before her shielded eye by holding the flat of the blade in place in between her palms. The force of the blow itself knocked her to the floor. Hands shaking with effort, Yosano looked up at the other girl in an attempt to gauge any weakness. All she saw was a look of pure determination. Oh, so she was serious.

Yosano wasn't quite sure what she had done the last few weeks to warrant behaviour like this, but she couldn't deny that whatever it was probably was justified. But since the day had already been bad, she wasn't in much of a mood to play around with Kouyou today. She just wanted to not talk to anyone and stay away from socialisation for a few hours, days even. The grip she had on the blade was so tight it cut past her skin and embedded into her muscles. 

Adrenaline coursed through her to keep up with Kouyou's increasing insistence of making a sword sheath out of her skull. She could barely feel anything or hear over the sound of the rushing of blood in her ears and the searing pain in her eye so she recounted an exercise she used many times on past patients. 

Inhale. Five things she could see. Exhale. Kouyou, bright lights, her hand, a katana and the ceiling. Inhale. Four things she could hear. Exhale. Her breath, blood roaring in her ears, Kouyou's breath, and a snapping sound. Inhale. Three things she could feel. Exhale. The eyepatch scratching her skin, excruciating pain, the heat of warm legs wrapped around her waist, pinning her to the floor. Inhale. Two things she could smell. Exhale. Blood, Kouyou's floral perfume. Inhale. One thing she could taste. Exhale. Yosano swallowed. A sharp inhale. This wasn't helping because all she could taste was-

Yosano felt the warm liquid trickle down before she saw it. She heard a shriek and the strength behind the sword was let up and the weapon completely escaped her sight with its owner, shocking her system. The sudden light flooding through her other eye blinded her as her patch fell away, the sword must've slipped through her grasp and cut through the string holding it together. 

Automatically her hand flew to her usually covered eye, clutching it as she jumped away. She noticed Kouyou faltering in her stance as she stared in confusion, but ignored it as she placed all focus on the injury. 

Now, Yosano had felt pain before. In the last seventeen or so years of her life she'd been stabbed, disembowelled, hung, mutilated, and burned among many other things. Compared to all the agony she'd ever experienced, a scratch near her eye was truly nothing.

But for some reason, when she tried to blink away the blinding light to search for her patch, all she could see from her eye was nothing but red.

Red on her hands, red in the light. She couldn't see. Her pale hand, speckled with the blood from the scrape on her head, flew almost immediately back to her eye to cover it. The red didn't go away, no matter how much she tried to cover it, and her eye hurt. She pressed her palm onto the soft spot harder, anything to block out the red light, and that just made it hurt more.

The dull ache became more burning, almost as if a hot rod was being slowly pushed into the socket. The scratch hadn't been that bad, it didn't even go anywhere near the cornea, stopping right before the edge line. Yet the heat felt real, as if it was a ball of molten lava bubbling to reach the surface.

She didn't even bother to look for her patch again. With her hand pressed harshly against her eye, she stepped toward the table. With laboured breaths she leant forward and placed all her weight onto the smooth wood.

Why was this happening today? Nothing could've set anything off, right? I need to get out of here. I'm dying, I'm dying, I'm dying. Did he-

“-sano, Yosano.”

Yosano tried to block out the sound. Everything was too loud, from her partner's grating voice to the hum of the lights to a distant knock she could hear on the door. Everything was too much, everything was too loud. She needed to get out of here, she needed to die.

She felt the hand on her shoulder before she could even process the person attached to it. She should've realised that it wasn't who she thought it was because it felt warm. She probably should've noticed that it was more gentle than firm, though she hated gentle. Regardless of the gesture, it felt like a thousand tiny swords sinking themselves into her skin. So when she slapped it away and shoved the thing aside, she didn't think about who exactly she was pushing.

Kouyou stumbled, her usually stable balance thrown off. She blinked in surprise, shocked that the smaller girl even had that much strength to jilt her unshakable stance. Holding back a retort, she eyed Yosano wearily as she stepped forward again. In the back of her mind she heard a knocking on the door, that for some reason didn't have the sense to stop when they realised no one was answering. 

Yosano was bent over the table in front of her, almost as if she was in pain. Kouyou swore she didn't hurt her that badly, but seeing the way she shook and the wild look in her visible eye left a twinge of guilt. Something seemed wrong, and Kouyou still wanted to at least help even if she annoyed her. Without thinking of what happened a few moments before, she moved her arm again, which was then held in place by the other girl.

Her hand was frigid. Kouyou genuinely did not know how someone's hand could be so cold, even if it was December. Her nails dug into Kouyou's hand, and it felt as if her skin would tear off any minute. With great effort and alarm, she pulled it back from Yosano's iron grip. Quickly, she examined her hand, she hadn't broken the skin, but left deep crescent incisions that most likely wouldn't go away for the rest of the day. Her fingers were coloured in Yosano’s blood and the sense of horror that washed over her at the scene nearly knocked her off her feet.

Quickly stepping back, Kouyou stopped Golden Demon, who had materialised the second Yosano’s nails dug into her skin, from advancing any further. Yosano stared at her darkly out of her eye, her palm remaining pressed on the other. The glare was definitely pointed, but she could tell she wasn't all there, so it wasn’t really for her. Something was seriously off.

“Don't touch me,” Yosano spat, and Kouyou noted how it took a great amount of effort to even get those words out. The hair from her ponytail had loosened, and conveniently covered her uncovered left eye. Beneath the curtain of black, Kouyou could see some red peaking through. Had she stabbed her?

 “Do it again and I'm cutting off your hand.”

You know what? To hell with caring about her.

Kouyou didn't even get the chance to voice her own frustration of the new markings on her hand when Yosano pushed past her and rushed toward the door. Instead of immediately running outside like she thought she would, she swung the door open with frustration she'd never seen.

“What,” she hissed at the person at the doorway, causing a cease to the knocking prior. Kouyou hadn’t even recognised the sound until it stopped.

Kouyou felt bad for whichever poor stranger that was at the door for all of a second until she realised who it was. 

Not moving from where she stood, Kouyou could vaguely make out the bounce of blonde curls and the signature red ribbon that the girl now wore everywhere.

Elise stood in the doorway of the training room entrance. As per usual, she looked exactly the same as she always did, save for her new dress. Her simple black and white dresses, with lace and hints of red, were replaced with something more elaborate. The dress was equally distributed with her usual colours, with the red skirt of the dress contrasting the black top. Black bows adorned the outfit, agreeing nicely with the red bow in her hair. 

Kouyou thought she looked quite cute in her new outfit, though it looked more like a party dress than anything with the ornate design. The little girl, unphased by how dangerous it was to be standing so close to her sister, smiled widely when the door opened. Kouyou would only shake her head in pity when Elise's long white sleeves swished when she raised the box in her hands up to her, bracing herself for whatever would happen next.

“Happy Birthday!”

Kouyou paused, her confusion growing even more when Yosano flinched in front of her.

What?

“Today's your birthday?” Kouyou couldn't help but interject. Out of all the things she expected her to say, it wasn't that

Yosano even looked more confused than she was, as if that was new information to her also. Honestly, with how often she didn't know dates, it probably was. 

“My…”

Yosano eyed the box in Elise's hands. Everything made sense at that moment. She didn't want to see that box, she didn't want to know what was inside. The gift wasn't from Elise, the brat didn't have the sense nor a soul to even comprehend such a thing. Whatever it was, it was from Mori, and anything from Mori she didn't want. She shouldn't take it. Her eye hurt.

Warily, Yosano uncovered the box with one hand.

All Kouyou saw was a throwing motion, and all she heard follow was the breaking of glass.

“Go away.”

“But he also told me to-”

“I don't care! Go away. GET OUT!”

Kouyou has never seen the little girl move so fast. Within seconds she heard only the patter of feet down the hallway. 

The room was dead silent, nothing filling the sound barrier except for the faint ragged sound of Yosano's breaths near the door.

Kouyou was slightly relieved when Yosano spoke first, lest she threw something at her.

“Training's done right?”

“...yeah,” she reluctantly answered, not even bothering to add a bite to her words.

“I'm leaving.” Yosano walked- well, more dragged her feet out the door. Had it been any other time, Kouyou would've probably scolded her for that. 

She waited until she was completely gone before she dared to move from where she stood. Letting out a sigh at the mess that had been made, both figuratively and literally, she sheathed her sword before tidying the room. Opting to ignore the new indent on the floor made by the large weapon, Kouyou made her way directly to the area where the object had been thrown. Letting curiosity overtake her, she kneeled down to get a closer look.

The floor was littered with glass, whatever it was was made entirely out of it. Nothing really showed a clear indicator of what it was before it broke, but on closer observation Kouyou noticed one larger shard had writing on it. Carefully picking it up, she read the number 79. Finding another shard amidst the mess, she fitted both together, the other piece showing the letters Au. 

She didn't quite understand what the letters and numbers meant, but it cleared that whatever it was angered Yosano enough to throw it. It was through her thinking that Kouyou didn't pay enough attention to the shard’s sharp edge, the glass slicing a thin cut on her finger. 

Kouyou hissed and dropped the shards as the blood flowed from the wound. she moved to stand before a glimmer caught her eye. Leaning forward once more, she looked at the considerably small piece in question.

From the way it reflected light, to its undoubtedly authentic glimmering colour, the small object that had been encased in the glass was undoubtedly gold.

The blood from Kouyou’s finger gathered into a drop at the base of the finger. Before she could wipe it away it fell, covering the gold in red amongst the shattered glass.

𐀔

She didn’t know how old she was.

She did at some point, probably. She was about 9 or 10 when he had first found her, She still remembered how fun the candy store used to be. The frosted glass, the warm scent of chocolate, coconut and peanut butter fudge wafting from the kitchen in the back, and the pastel coloured walls that often invited customers in.

She was just a sales girl back then, nobody would trust a little girl with anything else. At first she just wanted to help, it was only an old couple who ran the shop, and then the man alone when his wife died. 

She really had nothing to do, and would come in often anyway, the old man would often give her free candies even when she tried to decline. One day she had just decided to stick around for the entire day, and every day after that. That year was the first time in her life that she had an actual birthday cake, two layers tall with two different flavours of frosting. It was the nicest thing she'd ever had, and after that day she begged to stick around. She really wanted to help him out, and he let her.

Even at the height of the war, life was relatively okay for her. The owner- she couldn't even remember his name anymore- was too old to be drafted, and he didn't have an ability so he wasn’t affected. Girls didn't get drafted much, and she wasn't all that special, so she wasn’t affected either. 

The prices for ingredients immediately shot up as imports became more rare and the harbours at the port were locked off in a blockade, and business became more difficult to manage. She still tried to make the best of it, walking about the streets with the old man selling treats at a lower price, nobody could afford candy anymore. 

The cake that year was much less elaborate, with no icing or decorations, but she loved it all the same. They both tried to help as much as they could regardless, often stopping by the temporary bases and handing out treats to the soldiers. She loved it when they smiled at her when they took fudge or a cookie, shooting her a look of gratitude for trying to lift their spirits before being sent out to the island to fight. Never would she see the same soldier twice.

That became a daily routine, they would make sweets, sell at the shop and then pack a few to bring to the soldiers. She was never allowed to go by herself, as the old man never trusted anyone in those times. Always she went outside with him or he went alone, they always went to the army base together. She'd always try to peek into the covered infirmary where they would get treated, until the old man would pull her away to go back home, the general doctor’s eyes following her on the way out.

Only once did the old man ever go alone. An awful sickness had been going around, and she had caught it. It was the first time in her life that she had ever felt so ill, her small body would shake as she tried to fight it off. It was the first time she felt like she was going to die. 

The old man had left to try and get more money for medicine by selling sweets, and she had stayed behind in bed. She went to sleep, feeling like her life was slipping away, and woke up perfectly fine a few hours later. That was the first time she ever saw a butterfly, and she fell in love with the beautiful creature on sight, but it disappeared before she could try and catch it.

Wanting to help out the old man with the rest of the sales, she had run out into the street in search of him to tell him she felt better. It was the end of the day, he would've been at the base. Feet tapping against the concrete, she had run as fast as she could to the base in excitement. Just in time to get blown back by the bomb that had been set off in the area.

Screams filled the street, and her ears rang as she kept running toward the chaos. Frantically she looked around for the old man, spotting him under a large chunk of rock. With the help of other pedestrians he was pulled out, but it was almost too late. His face was pale, spattered with the red of his own blood, his ribs crushed and his legs mutilated beyond repair. It was her fault that he was caught in the crossfire in the first place, he was outside because of her.

Before she could even scream, she saw the butterflies again. Not two, or ten, but more than three dozen fluttered about the area, their white wings cleaning the red smoke and sky. They circled around him, landing all about his face, before they disappeared. The old man was left looking as if he had never left the shop in the first place, and so did the other soldiers on the street.

The general doctor showed up the next day for her, asking if she wanted to help out in the war. She accepted, she could help people this way, all she wanted to do was help.

She never saw the old man after that, and she never got nother birthday cake that tasted nearly as good.

She couldn't remember how old she was during the war. She may have been around eleven when she started working, but there were no such things as birthdays in war. Every day blended into the next, healing one group of men after the other. She became used to the wails and screams that she had first heard in the street. Unlike before, it became more infrequent to see a new face among the soldiers, no matter how horrific the condition they returned in. She couldn’t decide which was worse. The gift that Michizō gave her was the first gift she'd received in years, and she had lost it on the battlegrounds when she had gotten arrested.

In the containment facility it was even worse. Every day was the same, there was nothing to do, nothing to see, nothing to say, no one to talk to. In the blink of an eye, three or so years passed before he found her again. That was when she stopped counting, that was when she couldn't remember the date.

But he did. And he made sure that even though she could never remember how old she was, or what day was her birthday, she couldn't forget the feeling.

She had woken up in the late afternoon, as usual. Her jobs took place during the night anyways. If it wasn’t assassinating a person that he wanted killed, or dissecting live or dead subjects for bio analysis, it was doing a series of lab work to study abilities down to the molecular level. Dragging herself out of bed, she slipped on her usual clothes and stepped outside.

To her misfortune, she was graced with the face of Elise carrying a box in her small hands. Yosano was a good bit taller than her, which was jarring since the other girl looked exactly the same as when she met her…how many ever years ago it was.

She was dressed differently that day, her normally black and white dress had ruffles of red. Elise never wore colour, ever. She resembled the old cartoons she would see playing on the technology store’s TVs on the street. It was the main thing that allowed Yosano to remind herself the thing wasn't human. She looked even more childlike, less robotic, and it unnerved her greatly.

Immediately sensing her presence, Elise turned to face her. The base of her blank face immediately lit up like a light bulb as she stepped toward her. On instinct Yosano stepped back, blinking down at the girl incredulously. Deep violet eyes boring uneasily into bright blue, she questioned how, and why, this thing she was supposed to call a girl was this happy.

Elise had continued asking her to play for the months- maybe a year she had been trapped there. She couldn't remember. Eventually at some point she relented, playing with the limited dolls and drawings they'd been given access to with her. She felt silly playing with dolls at her age, but she didn't have to talk half the time so she didn't bother to complain. Elise would always be more obedient when she would tell her to go away after anyway.

A smile reminiscent of her creator gracing her face, Elise leaned even closer to Yosano, nudging her with the box in her hands.

"Are you excited?"

Excited? For what exactly? What a stupid question for her to ask. Neither of them ever went anywhere, and neither of them ever really did anything. There was nothing for her to be excited for.

Yosano didn't bother voicing these thoughts vocally, instead opting to stare at the girl. Unphased, Elise just simply nudged her with the box again, as if wanting her to open it.

One of the things on her long list of things she hated was things that she couldn't see. Beyond biology and chemistry which she primarily practised, she'd sometimes ventured into other scientific fields when she'd get especially bored. She read a book once about quantum mechanics as it pertained to physics. The researcher- Schrodinger or something like that, presented a theoretical situation with a cat, a box and poison. The theory demonstrates the idea that particles can be in two states at once until they're observed. Until one opens the box, the cat is both alive and dead. Yosano hated the idea of that theory.

Being forced to learn and operate on things, she wasn't phased by anything anymore. Mori could bring her a heart, brain, kidney, even a live man and she would begrudgingly cut it open without question. But if the body starts filling with blood without a sign of a source, or an unexplainable cell mutation arises with no origin or explanation, she loses all control of her senses. She needed to know, she needed to see what happened to have control at all times.

Elise could bring her a dead cat, or dove, or a dead man for all she cared. As long as it wasn't hidden, as long as she could see it. As long as it wasn't in a box.

Yosano didn't know what was inside the box that Elise was giving her, and it was driving her insane. She needed to open it.

Her hand moved to lift the lid, before another hand pushed it shut again.

The two girls looked up at the man who stood behind them. Mori had on his usual smile, a hand fixed on Elise's shoulder.

"Elise dear, don't let her open it so soon. She doesn’t even know what it’s for."

"We don't want to ruin the surprise wouldn't we?"

Bastard. He knew she hated surprises, he knew she didn't like not knowing things.

Standing upright, he walked over to the centre of the small common room in the apartment. All it really held was a wooden table and three chairs, never a need for an extra one as for obvious reasons they never had guests. Yosano knew he expected her to follow him, and with heavy reluctance she did, trudging her feet to the table.

To her surprise, spread out on the table was an array of meals that she wasn't used to seeing before. A large bowl with a mountain of steamed rice piled within, with another bowl of Tsukemono placed beside it. The bright colours from the pickled cucumbers and dark on contrasted that of the pale rice, the vegetables glistening under the fluorescent light. Plates of sushi and sashimi lined the far left of the table, the sliced fish accompanied by small covered bowls on each side of the plate. On the other end of the table, the far right, soup dumplings sat together, the fat balls of dough that contained the flavourful liquid still steaming within the miniature pot.

And in the centre, as if it was a mystery prize, was the same white box.

Yosano was confused, she'd never seen this much food in one place before in her life. Usually the only meals she'd see were even portions that mori would already have served out for the both of them on a plate. Two-mix, three-mix meals commonly consist of the usual combinations of proteins, carbohydrates and cooked or non-starchy vegetables. This much food almost seemed sickeningly gluttonous to her, what would warrant an occasion to even cause this much food.

The dragging of a chair pulled her out of her head, and she looked between the furniture and the man who held it out for her. She inched toward it and sat with uncertainty, it further settling in as she was pushed in. He proceeded to do the same with Elise, who sat in her chair with more eagerness, before seating himself as well.

All three sat in silence like that for a few moments, no one saying a word or making a move. Yosano opted to look at everything but Mori, finding much more genuine curiosity on what could only be described as a holy feast before her. 

There was an empty plate placed in front her, one that she'd never seen before. All the meals she had eaten before had been placed on an ivory white plate. This one looked like something to hang on a wall rather than eat. It was mostly white, with curved purple flowers adorning the rim. From the base of each flower, designs of golden leaves protruded and spread all about the plate, gold rimming around the edges as well.

Even the utensils, knives, forks and spoons all reflect the room with its luminescent gold colour. The knives looked as if they had been sharpened to carve through the deepest muscle and separate it from the bone rather than a steak. They were pretty sure, the plate too, but she didn't like them. The gold wasn't just excessive, but they made her nauseous. She almost didn't want to touch them.

Looking up through her dark, unbrushed curls, she shot Mori a quizzical look. At first he'd try to force her to speak more, often using Elise as the tool. But after the year he'd stopped bothering, realising he could figure out what she was trying to say without hearing words be spoken.

Receiving the unspoken question, Mori answered her.

"Do I need an excuse to spoil my girl? You've been so good lately that I think you deserve to be rewarded."

He was met with a blank stare as he moved to pick up one of the larger knives. She tensed up for a moment, relaxing when he directed the utensil toward the large ham that was in the centre of the table. Catching the shift, and the doubt of his answer, he laughed.

"Okay fine, today is special. Do you know what today is?"

She shook her head, her hair swaying as it began to barely brush against her shoulders. She wasn't paying attention to him fully anymore, but rather the meat. 

It was obviously very well cooked, with its perfect round shape and its pale pink interior. The whole thing was covered by its thin rim of flavourful fat, the seasonings and sauces that were added during cooking. As moving drew the knife back and forth through the meat, the juices it was baked with flowed out and filled the dish that contained it. It reminded her of human flesh. Distantly, she wondered who had prepared all of this food.

She stared at the plate with the slice on it in front of her.

After he filled everyone's plate- even Elise's -they began to eat. She didn't bother worrying about what was put in the food, he had already poisoned her food before so anything of the sort wouldn't be a surprise anyway. The whole time Mori engaged himself in what was basically a one-sided conversation. Probably about who he healed from some bullet wound at work, or the clinic the Mafia let him own on the side that worked as a laundering scheme, something like that. She wasn't really listening, her eyes the entire time trained on the box.

At the end of the meal Mori had eaten everything from his plate, Yosano had eaten everything but the ham, and Elise's plate was just as full as it was when they had started.

Mori clapped his hands "That was great wasn't it? Now..."

Again Yosano glanced at the box, itching to know what was inside. They had eaten, she sat through his droning, it was time for her to open it right? What could possibly be in there? A human organ? An animal? A book? Some kind of black market drug? Honestly any of that he could've just handed to her directly, so why would he-

"I've told you about the goal before?"

She broke out of her thoughts to look at him. He hadn't really told her anything, even when he first pulled her out of the facility. All he did was shove more work on her, more torture practice on others, and more assassinations. She wasn't told anything really, but she wasn't stupid. The goal most likely had something to do with his work, the Mafia. From what she gathered right now he was at an embarrassingly low rank with no access to power, something told her that it probably wouldn't stay that way for long.

"I'll take that as a yes," he mused, collecting the plates and stacking them in a neat pile at the edge.

"Remember this Akiko, when formulating a plan, it is imperative to know who you trust."

Her eyes followed his hand as he picked up the gold knife before him, the colour glinting in the fluorescent light. Glancing at the little girl beside her. whose face was frozen in its normal empty smile. 

Everything had her on guard. She couldn't predict what he would do next at that moment. It was probably a test, it was always some stupid test with him. The likelihood of her being stabbed was high, not unlikely. A part of her mind caused a quick glance to the younger girl who seemed unaware of everything in her seat, before brushing the idea away. Harming Elise wouldn't mean anything, she couldn't be hurt in any meaningful way either way.

She didn't expect for him to flip the knife downwards and stab himself.

Jumping out of her chair in surprise, she watched in horror as the man before her drove the small blade into just below his rib cage, before twisting it and pulling it out. Stumbling back into his chair, his face drained of all colour as his legs began to give out.

“Wh-”

“Tell me Yosano,” his ashen face began to sweat as he tossed the knife away, the metal skittering against the floor and out of sight, “What will you do?”

What must've been an automatic response, Elise jumped out of her frozen stance in an attempt to rush to his aid, before suddenly turning and stepping far away in the opposite direction. No doubt his influence.

Yosano’s hand clenched, her breath heavy watching the life of her captor slowly drain from his already cold, empty eyes. Just from a glance three feet she could immediately tell that he had hit one of his vital organs, maybe even punctured a lung. He wasn't close to death yet, but he would be soon in a matter of minutes.

Was he insane? Was this some sort of last supper type nonsense? Had he planned to take his life the whole time? That didn't make sense, and it seemed so stupid to her, why did he hold her captive for the last several years? Even if she didn't want to, she couldn't get a complete grasp on her ability yet. If he got on the edge of death and she stood too close to him the butterflies would come and he’d be fine. She could easily heal him now willingly if she wanted to.

But…

Her eyes darted toward the door, the one that led out of the apartment. Other than for assignments at specific locations, she had never left before. She didn't know what outside looked like during the day, she couldn't even remember. There Mori was in front of her, bleeding out and surely dying soon due to blood loss. All she had to do was run out before her ability activated and she’d be free.

But where would she go? She didn't even quite know what city she was in, much less her sense of direction without instruction. If she left, she'd be just as trapped and helpless as she was in here. She wouldn't die on the streets, no, she couldn’t die at all, but she’d suffer every day forever.

But then there was another thought. One brimming with optimism and hope that she thought had been tortured out of her long ago. Maybe the stars would align and she could find herself back in that little candy store. Yes, maybe some years had passed and it was unlikely for the old man to be there still, or even alive. Yet, her overactive imagination wasn’t hindered by this possibility. 

She envisioned herself behind that counter once more. Instead of the sickening smell of antiseptic and bleach, she would get to inhale the cocoa, cinnamon and minty aromas among the many different ingredients and sweets they would sell. She and the old man would no longer need to visit the soldiers, no, instead they would sell what they could in the day and she would pass out the remainders to all the lost little girls and boys like her who weren’t able to leave the streets.

And that bastard would be dead. That was the only detail that she couldn’t move from, the one kink she couldn’t smoothen out. No matter how satisfying the thought was, it still pissed her off. The idea of her being unable to die and him getting the satisfaction of it. He made her kill so many people, bring them back and kill them again, why should he get to die? Watching him bleed out in front of her made her realise. He didn’t deserve death.

Lunging forward, Yosano climbed onto the table in order to reach the other side. Her knee crushing the white cardboard box in the process, she paid no attention as she grabbed onto the man’s shoulders and dug her nails into his skin through the previously white lab coat that was now stained with blood. A pair of purple eyes, as wild as the one that bored into the other, met as she yelled in frustration. Angry at herself for choosing to save him, she glared at the pests that materialised out of thin air in a burst of light.

There weren't many, maybe ten or so all fluttering around their heads, not yet making a move to heal him as he hadn't gone to the edge of death yet. Looking up at the tentative fluttering of wings, Mori formed a weak smile on his beastly lips.

“It seems that you passed.”

Yosano hissed in response, her hands not moving from the grip on his coat.

“You don't deserve to die.”

“It’s a pity.”

She hadn't seen his hands move until she tasted it. A handful of whatever was picked up from the table shoved into her mouth. It wasn't savoury, nothing that she had on her plate a few minutes prior, It was sweet, sickeningly so, the flavour melting on her tongue and disappearing, leaving a lingering taste behind with a soft texture that reminded her vaguely of a softer, sweeter version of bread.

Biting on his fingers, she batted it away and spat out what was left in her mouth. From what she could tell it was purple, though the majority of it was unrecognisable. Noticing parts of the table had the same colour, her eyes followed the trail to where her knee had placed its weight. Beneath it was the crushed white cardboard box, with the same sweet purple and white substance spilling out, the number 6 peeking out.

In confusion, she looked back at Mori, who was now perfectly healed and had another knife between his fingers, examining the blade.

“These would be very useful as weapons, they could be easily concealed too.” He shifted his gaze back to her, “I see I can trust you to save me, but your hesitation is an issue.”

Her body was rigid, slowly retracting her hands from his shoulders and dropping them on the table. Her knuckles brushed the coloured substance, and almost felt an urge to put it in her mouth again. It was sweet, but it was familiar, she couldn't remember why.

“That insolence needs to be corrected. An eye for an eye.”

Violet on violet.

“...you wouldn’t.”

Mori smiled, the gold blade glinting in the light.

“True, I would never harm my dear little girl.”

Her heart pounded in her ears. He wouldn't, he wouldn't.

“But then again,”

His smile widened.

“You aren’t so little anymore, are you?”

Yosano didn't see it coming, and then she couldn't see at all. All she saw in her left eye was red, and all she felt was a blinding pain. 

“Happy birthday, Akiko.”

𐀔

Kouyou was a light sleeper, she had to be with the life that she was in. Many things woke Kouyou easily, despite how much emphasis she placed on getting good sleep as much as possible, it was difficult to do in her line of work. At any given moment an assassin could be sent after her, an attempt could be made to kill her in sleep, or the boss could call her for a last minute mission to carry out. Even in the fairly high security complex in the classified location solely allocated to those of Executive Supervisor and above, she tended to keep one eye open in the security of her bed.

It had happened a few times, maybe once or twice, when she was awoken by something that had actually posed a threat. She was younger then though, and a bit more inexperienced with what to do with a man with a gun at your door, now she rarely batted an eye, and anyone daring coming after her was unlikely. So usually, when she’d hear something it would often be deduced to be a bird, or even the scratching of a branch against the window.

That night though, wasn't either of those things. The sound wasn't by any means natural.

Groggily turning over to check the time on the clock beside her, Kouyou rubbed her eyes as her vision cleared to read the blinking numbers that read 2:35 a.m. Pausing for a moment to listen out for any potential danger of someone breaking in, she buried herself deeper into her silk sheets after a minute of silence. Almost drifting back to sleep, she tensed as she heard it again.

Muffled by the walls in her bedroom, and possibly beyond the front door, it could only be coming outside her apartment. Groaning at the thought of having to leave the warmth of her bed in the frigid cold of December morning, she pulled off her covers. Wincing silently at the feeling of cold tile against her bare feet, Kouyou slid out of her bed, pulling her sheathed sword out with her from beneath her pillow.

Tiptoeing to the door of her bedroom, she cautiously peeked outside. Her common room was shrouded in darkness, granted that it was two am. All the appliances that resided in the open kitchen were unplugged, and all the blankets and ornaments near the sofas were perfectly folded. Not a single thing was out of place, and no sign of an intruder presented itself. Pushing her door wider, she walked toward the front door. Pressing her ear against the deep oak, she heard it from the other side. It was definitely coming from outside. 

Eyebrows furrowing, she frowned, still tired from getting up a few minutes prior. Unless there was someone directly outside her door, it didn't make sense for her to be hearing anything. This was an Executive floor, and only really two Executives used their rooms. As the Colonel was never usually seen in the first place, Kouyou had only really seen Ace come and go. And as much as the man aggravated her soul, she really didn't have much noise complaints of him other than the gambling nights that he'd occasionally invite her to. In fact, the last time she heard this much noise was-

Immediately her already dark mood soured further. Scowling deeply, she slid on her slippers and stepped out her front door. Shutting it behind her, she was faced with the one parallel to her, and what was probably undoubtedly the source of the noise.

It had stopped, but it was bound to start again. Kouyou frowned, yes she was aware that she was the one who kept trying to get the girl to come back, but seriously? Not only did she not tell her that she would be coming back, but she immediately started back where she had left off, which caused Kouyou to butt heads with her in the first place. 

She moved forward to knock on the door, before being cut off by the sound again, which at this point she clearly identified as screaming. Not thinking anything of it, she raised her right hand and knocked on the door. Did she only come back to torture someone? As part of an assignment? Could she really not think of anywhere else to do this, or at least another time?

There was no answer, Kouyou knocked again, confusion growing. Even if she took an excruciatingly long time to answer the door as an attempt to annoy her. she always answered. So why wasn't she answering this time?

Knocking harder, she was almost pounding at this point. She hoped that Ace wasn't home at the moment, cause she really couldn't deal with having to speak to him with the way she looked currently, if at all. Yosano wasn't answering, and Kouyou was starting to wonder if she was ignoring her on purpose and if she should just ignore it and go back to bed.

Until she heard the scream again, and her hand paused mid knock. Pressing her ear to the door, she listened carefully. The voice it came from sounded familiar. It wasn't shrill, but it definitely wasn't quiet. It was loud, way too loud that it took her a while to realise cause she'd rarely heard her voice above speaking level.

Pulling back, she glanced at Golden Demon, who floated eerily beside her like a ghost in the hallway, before banging on the door. 

Yosano wasn't causing the screaming inside, the voice was hers.

Immediately her hands flew to her face, fumbling blindly to remove the object that obstructed her vision. Screaming in pain, she stumbled back on the table as she pulled it out, the blade clattering to the table with a loud clang, but she barely registered the noise.

“Yosano? Yosano!” Kouyou yelled at the door, garnering no response from the girl inside. It was evident that Ace wasn’t home, as no one on the entire floor was roused by her shouting. Stepping back, she groaned as she shoved her entire weight as an attempt to break down the door, but the heavy wood resisted with a dull thud.

Tentatively, she touched her face. She couldn't see, but as if enhanced by the adrenaline, her other senses sharpened. The scent and taste of what resembled almost rusted metal flooded her nose and mouth. She couldn't see at all from her left side, and her face felt like it was on fire. Her fingers were against her cheek, and though she couldn't see it, she could feel that her fingers were damp. She pulled her hand away, and through the haze of tears she saw that they were slicked with red.

She couldn't see.

“God, open.” Kouyou jiggled the knob and hit her hand against the door again. “Yosano, stop being a brat and open the door!”

Feeling someone behind her, Kouyou looked up at Golden Demon that loomed over. Unlike her, the ability looked as perfect as always, with its pink hair pulled back in its ponytail and kimono fixed in place on its shoulder. Illuminating the darkened hallway, it unsheathed its sword and held it up. Understanding what it meant to do, she stepped aside, watching as it began cutting away at the door. 

She couldn’t see. She couldn't see. She couldn't gauge what damage he did to her eye, she could barely see where he had gone. Shaking violently on the table, her limited vision swam as tears flowed out of her working eye. Her hands, her mouth, blending together in a mix of blood, frosting and that man's disgusting fingers, she could even taste the juices from the ham that had looked so perfect on the table earlier. The table probably looked like a massacre now, with broken glass and crushed food, but she couldn't even see it to tell, and that sent her into a panic.

She hadn't even eaten the ham, she hadn't touched it, yet under all the metallic blood and the earthy salt from her tears she could taste it. Even under the sickening sweetness of the frosting that had been shoved into her mouth, she was able to taste traces of the ham from Mori's fingers. The ham had reminded her of human flesh.

She threw up.

It took three tries for Golden Demon's sword to properly cut through the door. The wood shifted before caving in completely when Kouyou kicked it. Without a barrier blocking the noise, she could hear the screaming coming full force. It was shrill, and absolutely chilling to Kouyou. It sounded as if the girl was getting tortured, and for all Kouyou knew she was. What if there was an intruder and she hadn't noticed? What if she got taken and they punished her for it? If anything happened to Yosano Mori would surely make Kouyou pay for it.

She felt a bit bad that that was the first thing she cared about.

Rushing inside, she stopped for a moment in shock. Kouyou knew she was what one would probably call a “clean freak” but she couldn't help holding back a gasp at the state of the living room, if one could even call this place “living”.

Each Executive room came fully provided with the necessities, so that there was no need for purchase. And though the only other place that she’d ever visited was Ace’s, it seemed that every apartment was tailored the same way. A television in the living room, a sofa, a lamp. as well as the overhead lights and the tiled floors. Having lived in hers the longest, Kouyou had personalised hers to her liking, as well as making sure that it was always in pristine condition. As far as Kouyou knew, the longest Yosano had ever stayed before today was a few nonconsecutive days at most, so as everything else in her life, the room lacked personality. But that's not what caught her off guard.

The flat was an absolute mess. Glass was littered all over the floor, and one glance at the wall showed that it belonged to the flat screen TV that once hung there. Shards that resembled seaglass were in an array, glaring in the darkness, undoubtedly once bottles of sake from the scent of the stale alcohol in the room. Something else hung in the air, like a familiar odour that she would never forget.

There was blood in here.

Kouyou made a beeline to where the bedroom would be and pushed open the door, thankful it wasn't locked.

Everywhere was a mess, she could tell. Yosano hated messes, everything had to be clean and sterile in her eyes, it promoted order. But in theory she shouldn't have hated this as much as she did, cause she couldn't see it. She could feel the mixture of vomit, blood and squashed under her palm on the table. She could hear the screaming, her screaming in fact, yet it felt like it came from another body separate to her own. She could barely breathe between her screams, her throught hoarse as she coughed in between her wails. Her stomach clenched as she inhaled the stench of puke and food. She could still taste the frosting, and the meat. 

But she could barely see.

A hand on her face- ice cold, she couldn't help but note through the radiating heat of her skin- jerked her head upwards. Yelping in pain, she struggled against the iron grip to no avail. Forced to give in with great effort, she opened her now sole working eye, and through the tears and blood in her swimming vision she could see him. His hand slipped from her chin to her mouth, covering it with his soiled hand.

“From now on,” Mori instructed, paying no mind to the girl's ragged sobs. “I require you to do whatever I ask without hesitation.”

Though she barely caught it, she saw the smirk.

“If you ever so much think about anything else again, I want you to remember this feeling.”

His hand moved, and just like that Yosano began screaming again. Writhing away, she sobbed as he pushed his thumb harshly into the wound.

Her eye hurt.

“Yosano.”

“Yosano.”

“-SANO.”

Kouyou jumped a bit when the other girl finally woke up, albeit flinching violently when she prodded her. The way the girl had been screaming, she had been so sure that she had been getting attacked, or even an ability placed on her, though that was still up for debate with the peculiarity of her behaviour. 

Every time Kouyou interacted with her, she looked dishevelled. Even after months, the older girl still had yet to see a brush anywhere near Yosano's head. But this, she mused as she cautiously looked at her, must be an all time low.

You would swear Kouyou had thrown a bucket of ice water onto her with the way she looked. Her hair, stringy and sticking to her face and shoulder and her pale skin glistened in the dark with sweat. 

It was two in the morning, yet she wore the same clothes that she'd seen her in earlier in the day. In fact, if she thought about it, Yosano may have been wearing those clothes for days if she didn't have similar versions of the one she had now.

Even in the dark of the room, Kouyou could see how the dark grey clothing stuck to the other girl's skin. Whether it be from the sweat, the liquor or even blood she wasn't sure. She probably wouldn't have been able to take a closer look anyway, based on the distance that was being kept between them.

Within the short time of being awoken, she had pushed herself as far away as humanly possible from the pink haired Executive that didn't yet warrant falling off of the bed. In the dim lighting, it was hard to see, but it was evident the girl was shivering- no, shaking. As if she was the enemy, as if she had come to attack her. Kouyou could tell even after waking up, she wasn't all that fully there. Her breaths still fast paced and shallow, glances darting at every corner in the room, her eye looking around frantically, yet it was almost as if she didn't recognise where she was. Her other eye wasn’t covered.

Like that morning, she had both hands pressed firmly against the one that was usually covered. Her patch was nowhere to be seen, and Kouyou had a feeling she hadn't gotten another to replace the one that broke prior as of yet. The amount of pressure that she was placing on the socket, paired with the empty, panicked stare of the other, it didn't take Kouyou long to piece together what the problem was.

Her eye, there was something wrong with her eye. Did she graze it?

“Hey…” Kouyou cautiously leaned forward to the curled girl before her.

“GET AWAY,” Yosano scrambled back, frantic. She pressed her palm onto her eye even more. Kouyou’s heart dropped to her stomach in guilt. That must hurt, why wasn't she feeling that?

Immediately, Kouyou sat back. She didn't recognise her, probably still suffering the after effects of whatever horror she had just woken up from. Stifling a sigh paired with a harsh comment, Kouyou hardened her gaze. She hated this girl, gentleness wouldn't work on her. Of course she wouldn't recognise her being nice, especially not now. Kouyou was starting to think that not many people are that nice to her.

“Yosano,” she spoke firmly, trying her best to eliminate any form of whisper in her tone, “Calm down, it’s me.”

Cautiously, the doctor hesitantly looked up from where she was curled. Her eye still clouded over, her breaths still heavy.

“...Ozaki?”

I beg your finest pardon? Involuntarily, kouyou was immediately sent back to the time Yosano called her that in the room. It was very obviously a test or ploy of some sort then, probably an attempt to watch her face turn red in embarrassment. It did, and though the use of her given name in passing had sent a shock to her spine she had ignored it by assuming it to be some kind of joke.

But right now? In her state? That was no ploy.

“...yeah. It’s me.”

Slowly, she watched the girl before her calm down from her tensed form. Her body still remained curled protectively in on herself, both hands pressed on her eye.

Taking the risk, Kouyou moved toward her, one knee sinking into the queen sized bed. She made sure to be slow in her movements so that Yosano wouldn't react harshly, until she was sitting crossed legged directly in front of her. 

She held up her palm, a pale pink almost unrecognisable in the darkness.

“Let me see.” She stated, speaking directly about her eye.

Yosano immediately stiffened again.

“No, it's-”

“Don't be ridiculous,” Kouyou cut in, realising that she was reacting better to her normal speech, “I saw you get your throat slit a few months ago. I've been in this business for a while, whatever happened to your eye won't bother me. If there's something wrong with it I'll…” she paused, “I'll try to fix it.”

Fix it? Fix it how? She was no doctor, the girl she was talking to was. How did she know she wasn't permanently blinded in that eye, and there was nothing she could do? If there was nothing but an empty socket, there was nothing to fix.

Nevertheless, Kouyou told herself as she stifled a sigh, she needed to calm her down. No matter how much she hated her, something was wrong and she felt a need to help fix it. Heavens knew why.

Stretching out her left hand, the older girl's pink fingernails touched the other's hand first, before pressing the rest of it firmly on top.

“What's your name?”

Warm fingers above frigid, she slowly curled them above the first pale hand. Yosano took another ragged breath.

“Y-Yosano Akiko.”

“Yeah,” she hummed, as if they were in a classroom, gently pulling the first hand off. “Where are you right now?”

“The… the executive quarters. Apartment 88.”

Keeping her first hand on her skirt, and ignoring how close she was leaning toward her, she moved to take that other hand off.

“And how old are you?”

She didn't get an answer, taking off the other hand. The younger girl's long hair fell into the empty space, with hands no longer holding it back. Kouyou looked down at both hands in hers. They were slightly smaller, and though it was hard to see in the dark, somehow much paler compared to hers, which she hardly believed to be possible. She examined them, with no restraint from the other. They were cold, but not dirty. Though if she looked closely enough, underneath the nail beds seemed as though they were caked in blood. Blood with no wound, she noted, as she recalled the way Yosano held her sword back, inches away from her face. Inches away from her eye that you may have injured, a voice whispered.

Kouyou opted to ignore that.

Looking up at the other girl, she tried to catch her eye, ultimately failing. Letting out a sigh, she hesitantly pressed a hand against her face to get her attention, her face was cold too. Yosano leaned into the touch, and Kouyou could swear she activated her mysterious ability inside her the way it made her nauseous. The girl was very out of it if she was doing that.

“Hey, Akiko,” since they were apparently on a first-name basis for no apparent reason.

A beat of silence.

“Yeah?”

Her breaths were steadily slowing.

“Answer the question.”

“...what was it?”

Placing her other hand on the other side of her face, she raised her head to meet her eyes. Long dark hair tousled and shrouded the side of her face.

“How old are you.”

Cautiously, as Kouyou pushed away her hair, setting it back as neat as she could in the dark with her fingers, she heard her answer.

It came out in a whisper, and Kouyou barely heard it as she looked at the eye Yosano had tried for months on end to hide from her.

“Eighteen.”

Her eye was fine.

A deep aubergine, resembling that of heliotrope flowers the way it reflected in the dark. Thick eyelashes, dotted with tears the way they glittered like the morning dew, shrouded the organ as it shied away even in the night. 

Even as Kouyou ignored the way her body felt warm, despite the room and the girl's skin being frigid. Even as she pushed away the thought of how pretty the girl looked, despite her messy long hair falling at her shoulders, her crumpled clothes and the dark circles that framed the pair of eyes that currently stared dazed at her. Even ignoring all those things, and she analysed every point of the supposed organ of injury, nothing seemed wrong. Her eye was fine.

Not sure what to do with that discovery, Kouyou tentatively removed her hands from the other girl's cheeks, stopping to glance at the slight imprints they had left behind. 

“...it's two in the morning, you know that right?”

Silence, those unnerving eyes staring right back at her. 

Those eyes looked nothing like Mori’s.

“...if you want I could get some water or something. Or I could call-”

Kouyou froze, every nerve in her body aware of Yosano's head on her shoulder. It wasn't on bare skin, as she was wearing a long sleeved silk robe over her deep red nightdress. Yet through the thin sleeved fabric, she could hear the slowed shallow breaths against her skin.

“Shut up.” Yosano murmured tiredly, voice muffled through the other girl's clothes.

Kouyou's face probably was as red as the robe she was wearing.

She was by no means up to her usual standard of decent for anyone to look at her. Her face was devoid of makeup, her hair not at all combed, instead braided back to fall over her right shoulder. Her clothes weren't appropriate for any prying eyes either, and should anyone ever look at her in that moment they wouldn't live to tell the story.

Yet here she was, caught in an appearance that showed weakness and a disgustingly youthful look by her values, with the girl she despised touching her in full contact.

Kouyou could've honestly just ignored her screaming, especially since there was nothing inherently wrong with her. She could've left the door shut, put on some earplugs, and left her to her own devices. In no world would she have willingly sat with her and helped her through a nightmare and a panic attack at two in the morning.

But instead of doing any of that, she glanced at her ability that remained by the door, eerily floating in place as if it was a guardian protector. In a way it was. And instead of returning the order from the girl with a snide comment or insult, or a question of what she just witnessed, she just stared at her. 

Dark tangled hair, cold skin, unsteady and shallow breaths. Thinking back on it, she had yet to get the younger girl a present. Her silence would have to do for now.

“Fine.”

“Happy birthday, Akiko.”