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The fall only managed to stun Himiko briefly. She didn’t waste a moment in looking for Ochako — not that she was hard to find.
The smell of blood was strong — so strong. Himiko wanted to vomit, but it was all she could do to keep choking down the spit that kept tempting her to open her mouth.
teeth tearing at raw gums
Himiko forced herself to take a step back after getting a full look at Ochako. She undid the bandana from around her neck, retying it over her nose.
can’t smell — won’t smell
Ochako was a mess. Her eyes were barely open, and Himiko had never seen her this pale . A hand-sized starburst-wound on her calf steadily wept blood onto the dusty concrete, eventually joined by another stream of blood that trickled out from under the rubble that covered her forearm.
(himiko had prepared for this. she knew what to do. she had what she needed.)
She wished she could believe those lies; she wished she could steady her hands.
Himiko clawed at her sweater, eventually managing to tear a rough strip from one of the sleeves. She slipped it under the tip of Ochako’s boot and pulled it up to the top of where the blood started, paused for a moment, then pulled it into a tight knot. Ochako didn’t scream — screams weren’t so.
quiet
A hand weakly squeezed Himiko’s wrist: “ J-just… go .”
Himiko pretended not to hear as she pulled another strip from her sweater and slid it halfway up the previous one.
seams ripping, seams dripping
She pulled the knot carefully, but firmly, just enough to—
—A shriek of tearing fabric filled Himiko’s ears.
—
Just a few more seconds, and Overhaul would find out just how much of a mistake he had made
remember. big sis
Just a few more steps, and the heroes would take care of the rest
why was everything shaking?
Just a few more meters and they’d be on solid ground again
cracking, snapping, a shove, a—
—scream.
It wasn’t Himiko’s — she had to bite back her own scream as it tried to claw its way up her throat — she couldn’t let one of them find her.
throat. burning.
That stupid. Arrogant. Loud. Yakuza .
The puppet one had tried to hit Himiko before the heroes got him.
floating. screaming. falling.
He couldn’t. Even. Hit. The. Right. ONE.
He hit Ochako.
He hit OCHAKO.
She would cut him. Make him pay. pAY—
—No. She had to cut him later. Cut the stupid. Useless. Yakuza fuck-up after—
—Ochako groaned. it was too quiet. Too quiet! Too—
too much. how… stop… blood?
Stop. Stop-circulation? But… meant squeezing… would hurt… Her…
have to. try.
—
Ochako was trying to fall asleep.
Himiko grabbed her hand to give it a short squeeze, but when she felt how cold it was, she tried not to let go.
Even when she felt Ochako’s fingers feebly trying to work themselves out of her grip.
(himiko had prepared for this. she knew what to do. she had what she needed.)
She wished she could believe those lies; she wished Ochako could, too. Again she squeezed Ochako’s hand. “Stay awake. You need to stay awake!”
Ochako didn’t answer, but Himiko was pretty sure her eyes opened for a moment.
She ripped another strip from her sweater.
The first strips were already starting to bleed through, large patches dyed a sharp red. Himiko didn’t know what she’d do if this kept up — if she even finished this first layer.
she didn’t want to think about it.
Again, Himiko started pulling the strip underneath the tip of Ochako’s boot, only for her foot to foot, just the slightest amount…
And her heel pinned it to the ground. The dusty, concrete ground.
Himiko bit her tongue so hard she could taste blood. It helped. Though not as much as she hoped.
This was taking too long. And she still needed to check Ochako’s hand. She pulled off her sweater, being careful not to let the ragged edges catch on anything as she did so. She grabbed Ochako’s hand again. “Ochako, I think this is going to hurt. But just for a minute. Please, don’t fight it.”
She didn’t let go until she felt Ochako squeeze back. Then, with one hand she pulled up Ochako’s leg just enough to pull the sweater underneath with the other. She then pulled the sweater tight. It was not long enough before it started to turn red.
—
Himiko couldn’t recognize the voices that started getting closer.
So they probably, hopefully weren’t any of the Yakuza.
And Ochako needed help.
And finally, Himiko stopped trying to swallow her scream.