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❥៚ babe.
| “NO OFFENSE, BABE, BUT THE LOOK DOESN’T SUIT YOU.”
Yui Kimura looked at the spirit in front of her, a hard expression on her face. The dead woman was a sickly blue color, and she had glass embedded all over her placid skin. Her thigh, abdomen, and arm were cut apart, exposing bone and flesh and all kinds of gore. Whatever had happened to this woman while she was still alive had been terribly gruesome. Yui wondered what she went through. She saw dried, everlasting tear tracks on her cheeks. The attire she was wearing was all-too revealing for someone deceased. Yui felt bad for her.
A thought flickered into her mind. Had she been raped? Raped and murdered? Is that how she’d died? Yui’s chest tightened. She hoped to heaven and back that she was wrong. She didn’t want to sympathize with a murderer, dead or not. She didn’t want to feel pity for her, she didn’t want to wish she could’ve saved her from whatever grisly fate she’d met. She was clearly young, too — or she had been. Her cold features were still round and full of youth.
The spirit made a noise that sounded like a mixture of a sob and a snarl. Like she was stuck in an eternal struggle between anger and sadness. Yui felt the urge to reach out to her, to comfort someone else in need. She wanted to hug her, to tell her she’d be okay, but why should she be the one doing that? The woman was dead, and she was killing Yui’s friends. She shouldn’t feel bad for the woman, or for how she died. Because she’d deserved it, right?
No. No one deserves to die like that, Yui thought, shaking her head. She swallowed past the lump in her throat, and stared at the spirit further. There was a pallet between them, separating them and keeping the dead woman’s blade from ripping Yui apart. Something within Yui told her that this woman was like her. Japanese. Did she not speak any English? Yui had studied the language in high school and college, so she spoke it fluently. But what about this ghost? There was no telling just how old she was. She could think of English as just gibberish. Yui’s expression softened, just by a fraction. Perhaps she should speak in Japanese? It had been a while since she’d spoken every sentence in her native tongue, but—
The ghost wasn’t breaking the pallet and trying to murder her like all the others had. She was just standing there, still and frozen like a statue. Like a . . . Husk. Yui gulped past the hollow lump in her throat. She stepped forward, and wondered if this was a trap. Could it be? She faltered, and felt her head ache. She shouldn’t be trying to socialize with killers. That was probably against some unforeseen rule. She didn’t want to make the Entity angry.
But then again, when did she give a damn about what others had to say? Even an all-powerful Entity couldn’t stop Yui from what she wanted to do. So, yeah, fuck the Entity.
Yui went to lift up the pallet to talk to the girl, when she suddenly disappeared. Yui gasped, stricken, and turned just in time to see her, right behind her. What the hell was that?! Panicked, Yui raised her arm up as the spirit raised her katana, a fearsome expression on her deadened face. “Chottomatte! Onegaishimasu!” Wait, stop! Please. Yui trembled, dreading the feeling of a cold hard blade slicing into her arm, when the weapon faltered in front of her. The spirit looked, for a brief second, sad and confused. Her mouth parted like it usually did in its silent scream, only to morph — like she was trying to say something. Yui was rigid.
Had she somehow gotten through to the Spirit? But all that fell apart when she was stabbed. Yui screamed, clutching her abdomen with agony. The Spirit retracted her katana, the weapon morphing back into her own skin. Yui watched in horror as the ghostly woman bent down, picking her up and hoisting her over her shoulder. Yui whimpered, trembling.
She was placed onto one of those ghastly meat hooks, and she gave up hope on trying to communicate with the Spirit. That is, until one fateful evening during a peculiar trial.
She was alone in an area the survivors called the Yamaoka Estate. No one knew why, but a man named Adam had said he heard the Entity whispering the name to him. And from what everyone told Yui, Adam was the survivor who’d come with the Spirit. They usually, if not always, came in pairs. A survivor and a killer. Yui’s . . . Demented other half was a beast they called the Oni. She’d first seen him while riding her motorcycle, and had been fully prepared to try and kick his ass until a fog had swept them both away into this awful realm.
It appeared like Yui was all alone in the Yamaoka Estate. She wandered around timidly, but forced herself to be more brave. She lifted her head up, and crouched down to start repairing a generator. She was in the main building, what was probably once a house that held occupants. If she listened closely enough, she could hear faint screams of anguish and terror, weaving around the room like the sounds were trapped there forever. It was chilling, but there was nothing she could do about it. She wondered if her own frightened screams would be forever trapped here, for new survivors to listen to and remark fearfully upon . . .
But, no. She would get out of this hellish realm. She had to. She had no other option. She needed to get back to her friends. She needed to get back to racing. She had a legacy to make, and a legend to create. There was still so much more she had to do, still so many more people she had to win against and defeat. Her name was well-known, but only in Japan so far. She wanted it known in every country. She wanted everyone to know Yui Kimura. But now, that’d never happen, because of some spider-like Entity that kidnapped her. Yui’s hands, well-manicured and clean, clenched into fists. She wanted to kill that thing.
She doubted it was possible, but she could try. The other survivors had told her there’d been more people before them all, and that some of them had even kept journals. One man in particular, Benedict Baker, had kept documents of the killers and many activities going on in realm. They claimed that without his work, they’d still be left in the dark about many things. They knew from him that the Entity needed the killers to kill for it, otherwise it would starve. So if the killers stopped killing . . . Then the Entity might die. They’d be free.
Right?
Yui was absentmindedly working on the generator, lost in thought, and jumped out of her skin when a glowing figure appeared out of thin air before her. It was the Spirit, her dark hair flowing wildly out behind her. She was wearing a school girl’s outfit, an attire for a college student. Yui recognized it well. She felt her jaw drop. This just confirmed her suspicions. She flinched away from the generator, hearing it explode, and cowered down. She hated being so scared, but it was hard not to be frightened of a vengeful ghost. The woman’s glittering white gaze rested on Yui, and she made that dreadful sound of hers. Yui wanted to cover her ears. She stumbled to her feet, knowing she needed to start running.
As she sprung into motion, fleeing fearfully from the Spirit, she noticed that the area was dreadfully quiet. With a sinking feeling in her stomach, she realized she might be actually alone. She didn’t hear or see any other survivor. She felt like she could throw up. She wanted to give up, but she kept racing on, vaulting over windows and zigzagging her steps to make her tracks harder to follow. Still, the Spirit wasn’t dumb. She hunted her down like a dog. There was no escaping her, even as Yui slammed a pallet down, right into her paled face.
The Spirit emitted a stunned cry, clearly dazed. Yui knew this was her perfect chance to escape and gain distance, but she understood she could never win this alone. This ‘game’ as Feng Min called it, was meant to be four players versus one. Four survivors versus one killer. She was out-skilled. She would never make it out alive. She felt her pride take a great stab as she dipped her head in acceptance. Defeat didn’t always mean you lost. She would go down gracefully. It didn’t matter how, but she would. She lifted her head back up, her eyes shining.
“Mitame wa anata ni niaimasu, babe.” The look is for you, babe. Yui smiled after she spoke, and the Spirit tilted her head. That was clear understanding that Yui had spoken! Could she talk back? Yui leaned forward excitedly. Please, respond, she thought desperately. The Spirit’s face was contorting rapidly like it always did, shifting from sad to angry to peaceful. Her mouth parted, her joints shifting and cracking horribly as she moved. Yui waited patiently, but was fully prepared for the spirit to appear right beside her with her katana raised to strike her.
“Babe?” The Spirit finally spoke. It was such a surprise to Yui, that she nearly fell to her knees. She stared at the Spirit in shock, her face a clear expression of wonder. The Spirit clearly did not speak English, or know what babe meant. Yui smiled, a small and timid gesture. She’d been daring and even teasing before, but now she softened. The Spirit’s voice sounded like nothing she’d expected. It was soft, but also gurgled and raspy — like she was chewing on glass and talking through a mouthful of blood. The thought made Yui shiver.
“Hai, anata no nikkunēmu.” Yes. A nickname, for you. Yui rubbed the back of her neck after speaking, and the Spirit twitched, her mangled limbs creaking as she moved. “Heikin?” It was only one word the Spirit said. Talking probably hurt her. Mean, she’d said. Whether she was asking what it meant, or asking if it was a rude nickname, Yui didn’t know. But she would gladly elaborate. “Sore wa aijōbukaidesu. Anata ga yoi to omou hito ni shiyō sa remasu.” It is affectionate. Used for someone you think good of. Yui wanted the Spirit to know she didn’t hold grudges against her. Not anymore. No, her grudges re-aimed towards the Entity.
She had a feeling, deep in her gut, that the spirit would have never willingly come here. No sane soul would have. And clearly, the Entity had taken the dead woman either after she died, or while she was dying. With a death so vividly gruesome, the poor girl was bound to be in a rough state of mind. Easy to manipulate and take advantage of. The Entity took advantage of all inside its realm, whether they were innocent or not, it didn’t matter. In the end, they were all just pawns. They could be discarded whenever the Entity so pleased. None of them were special or unique to it, not even the killers. They were all just puppets.
Instead of blaming the people who killed her for another, she blamed the being those people were killing her for. Without the Entity, there was a very slim chance any of these murderers would ever come into contact with her. They’d never kill her outside of this realm. If given the chance, some would probably willingly attempt to, but she strongly doubted they would have crossed paths in the real world. She would’ve been safe. The Entity was behind all of her troubles. So, she directed all of her hatred and rage towards it.
“Koroshimasu.” Kill. After the Spirit said that, Yui gulped. She either meant she was about to kill Yui, or implied that Yui was crazy for not loathing her, since the Spirit had killed her and her comrades countless times. But it was never permanent. It was never a final death. Besides — the killers could kill them at their own hands using offerings the survivors called Mori’s, but the Spirit had never cast one upon Yui. She just placed Yui on hooks. The Entity was always the one to kill her, not the Spirit herself. So, she shook her head determinedly.
“Anatade wanai. Entiti.” Not you. Entity. Yui stared at the Spirit, and suddenly stepped forward. She lifted up the pallet between them. Her small source of defense, gone. She looked up at the Spirit, and the Spirit stared back at her. “Rin.” The Spirit’s voice was even softer than normal, and she looked confused, like she was trying to remember. Rin — that was a Japanese name for a girl. Yui had known a few girls named Rin, but never any who had died. She was trying to remember just what her name was. Yui’s chest tightened. She felt so bad for her. She wanted to hug her, even if blood and glass would get on her, and even if she’d probably be impaled. She just felt so horrible. That would probably be her downfall.
“Yui.” Yui smiled after introducing herself, and the Spirit’s bones cracked as she straightened up. Her lips curled upwards into that manic smile of hers, before it morphed into something softer and more genuine. A gesture that mimicked Yui’s. Yui felt her heart leap with happiness. She was making progress. The smile quickly fell from Rin’s lips, though. “Ogenkidesuka?” She asked. How are you here? Yui shrugged, honestly not knowing. “Watashiniha wakarimasenga, soreha riyū ga atta ni chigai arimasen.” I don’t know, but it must have been for a reason. Yui stepped forward cautiously, testing the boundaries and the limits.
When Rin didn’t react violently to her approaching, Yui willed up every ounce of courage within her to ask quietly, “Dare ni sore o shimashita ka?” Who did that to you? Yui was staring at the raging, gaping wounds and the awful glass punctures all over Rin’s body. Rin’s face contorted into something darker, full of primal rage and bloodlust. Yui flinched, becoming frightened. She’d gone too far, Rin had snapped and was going to kill her! She shouldn’t have pried, but she’d just felt so curious. She’d wanted to know who Rin’s killer had been.
“Otōsan.” Father. The words came from Rin’s mouth, her voice deep and filled with clear loathing. Rin’s katana had been brandished, a wild expression on her face, her white eyes simmering with clear rage. Yui reached out to her without thinking, trying to calm her down. Without being able to stop herself, Yui grabbed Rin’s hands in her own. They were cold. Frigid. They felt like death. Yui knew why. She looked into Rin’s glassy eyes and said, “Daijōbuda yo.” It will be okay. Rin glared at her, that sound of a sob and a snarl escaping her.
Rin clearly didn’t believe her. How could it ever be okay for a poor girl whose life was cut short by a brutal death, at the hands of her own father? Yui felt terrible for her. She hadn’t gotten along well with her own father, but she could never imagine being killed by his hand. They loved each other, their troubles and issues be damned. They’d never hurt each other, let alone murder one another! And from the hurt and fury on Rin’s face, Yui had a hunch the killing had been brutally unexpected. The betrayal was sudden, and it had been painful.
“Wakarimasu. Watashi mo, dareka ni kōgeki sa remashita. Sutōkā. Shikashi, watashi wa kare o yabutta. Tsuyoku modotte kimashita. Daijōbudeshita. Mata, anata wa yori tsuyoku modotte kimashita. Daijōbudesu.” I understand. I, too, was attacked by someone. A stalker. But I defeated him. I came back stronger. I was okay. And you have come back stronger, as well. You will be okay. Yui smiled encouragingly, and Rin’s angry expression lessened into pure sadness. Though Yui had survived her attack, Rin had not. That was their key, stark difference. A survivor, and a sorrowful killer. Yui wished she could punish Rin’s father for what he’d done.
“Gomen'nasai.” I’m sorry. Yui leaned closer, tentatively. Pushing the barriers, testing the waters to see if Rin was alright with her getting closer. Rin didn’t move, and so Yui took that as a sign of approval. Hesitantly, Yui wrapped her arms around Rin into a tender hug. The girl let out a brutal sob, and clear, see-through tears dripped down her blue cheeks. Yui understood. Rin was just a young girl who’d been hurt by the one she’d loved. She was just as much of a victim as the survivors. It wasn’t an act. The wounds on her, the sorrow she showed, the way she cried — Yui was good at reading people, even dead ones. Rin was sincere. Her story was undoubtedly genuine. Evil people like her father existed out there.
This realm proved it.
Yui’s passion reflected upon protecting her fellow women, and whoever else needed protecting. She felt a fierce, fiery compassion for helping victims of abuse. Male or female, she would come to their aid. She was usually met with females, though. She feared men wouldn’t come to her out of shame, which hurt her. She felt awful for them. She had a soft spot for those in need, and especially girls, purely because she could relate to them personally. It didn’t meant she picked favorites, or would refuse to help men. She could simply relate to them more, just like two male victims of abuse would relate better than with a female victim of abuse. It was just — different. And looking at Rin, Yui’s heart bled for her. Even if Rin was a boy, she would have reached out. Of course she would have! And even if Rin had been killed by her mother rather than her father, she’d be just as angry. Anyone could commit heinous deeds, male or female, and anyone could be a victim.
Any soul who was hurting deserved to be soothed and protected. And out of every killer, Yui could see that Rin was suffering the most. It didn’t take a genius to figure that out.
“Arigato,” Rin whispered. Thank you. Yui smiled.
“No problem, babe.” She knew Rin couldn’t understand her, but would recognize the fond nickname. It was enough, for Rin’s hold on her didn’t falter, and neither did Yui’s. The blonde woman allowed the Spirit to let loose her emotions, and cry into her waiting arms.
It will all be okay, babe, Yui thought sadly, hearing the sobbing. It has to be.