Chapter Text
Fog. There was fog everywhere. It crept through the alleys like blood, thick and viscous, trying to get into every crack, no matter how small. It's cold. It was incredibly cold. The air felt damp and grainy when you tried to cut it with your fingers. But it was hardly possible - the fog was just far too thick, omnipresent, in this bleak world.
Bleak.
She looked up at the sky. It was raining relentlessly. How long had she been lying here?
It was so cold, so cold.
The breath that came out of her trembling mouth flew through the air like the blown-out smoke of a cigarette. The hand she was pressing tightly on the wound on her lower left abdomen was getting weaker by the minute. Every second more blood leaked out than she would have thought possible before, and the dull feeling of death grew stronger with each passing moment.
Nothing could be heard except for her heavy breathing. As if she had just run a marathon. The wet puddle beneath her, a mixture of mud, blood, and rain, soaked the thick fabric of her dress.
It was so cold.
The young woman was almost about to close her eyes when she finally heard something. In the middle of this narrow and dark alley, which was permeated by grey mist, something was coming closer.
Please, not a monster, she pleaded softly, whimpering internally, but she no longer even had enough strength to shake her head.
The beat of wings. Several beats of wings. Until-
Her ears strained to hear every little detail. Something hit the ground, as she could easily tell from the unmistakable splashing sound. It sounded like shoes walking in the wet.
Stomp...
Stomp...
Stomp...
She was so tired. The damp eyelashes hanging in front of her eyes made the rain slide down her cheeks. Everything was wet. She didn't even know what was blood and what wasn't anymore. The redness enveloped her completely.
The footsteps paused. Directly in front of her now stood a man with red wings close to his body. As if he was protecting himself, from the eternal fog that lay in this city.
The woman tried to look up into his face. Too far up. She could hardly move her head, her pain was so great. She coughed.
The man bent down. Was he a hero? Only a hero could be out at this hour in such a remote part of the city. Surely a normal human soul would never, ever stray into such a deserted place.
Her (eye colour) eyes could see almost nothing of him anymore. Everything seemed strangely hazy as if they were figures from a painting, ready to blur with the water and dissolve at any moment. But something, something about his face, seemed so strangely familiar. Almost as if...
Her breath stopped for a second until she breathed out his name, drained of energy.
...
"Keigo?"