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“You’re hurt.”
It was about the dumbest thing someone could have said. Ai was very aware of her injuries, of her pain, she did not need an outside source to tell her what she already knows. The desire to turn around and say as much was a tempting one, but made all the more impossible by the very “hurt” that afflicted her small body.
“It’ll be okay.”
She was suffering from heatstroke. She couldn’t be exactly sure, she hadn’t passed out yet, but how else could it be after spending over an hour under direct sunlight, bound to a stake, and made to wait for the culprit to return. A kidnapping case, Ai being the nearest victim (now witness), and she can’t do a thing about it. Worse yet, it seems her demise would be at the hands of heatstroke. After fantasizing her death for most of her years, the idea of succumbing to overheating was absurd.
“Ai-chan, keep your eyes open.”
And of course, it had to be in the presence of Ran Mouri. Because fate was a cruel mistress with wicked humor. It’s why Ai decides not to open her eyes, just out of spite. She would not add to the scene by meeting the gaze of someone so important.
“Please,” Mouri-san’s voice is soft, choked. It makes Ai’s stomach clench because she is the one making this girl cry.
At least it isn’t Ayumi-chan, she muses to herself, stomach twisting at the mere thought. No, Ayumi-chan wouldn’t be able to handle a death of such magnitude, no matter how pitiful. Mouri-san would survive. She would move on, especially when Kudo-kun returned. All of this would be washed away, and then–
The sun that pervaded her vision, that pushed through the lids of her eyes in an orange haze, disappears. It’s dark now, but she is still in pain. Is this death? Is this her curse? To live forever in bondage to the burns along her skin? She tries to suppress her whimpers, remind herself that she deserves this. If her fate is to exist in eternal torment, so be it. She deserves it after everything she has done.
“Ai-chan,” a hand caresses her cheek, a heavy but warm surface laying gently against her forehead. It makes her head flare with pain. “Ai-chan, please open your eyes. Please.”
Ai can’t. What would she see? Eternal darkness? The faces of her victims who succumbed to the Apoptoxin? The pain she could comprehend, but the rest…
What would I see?
“Me.” That gentle weight shifts, wet warmth dripping onto sunburnt flesh. It cascades down Ai’s cheeks, carving into the pain as a healing salve, numbing. It makes her breathing hitch.
“It’s me, Ai-chan,” the voice says, Ran-san says, with tenderness Ai does not deserve. “Dad and the others are on their way. You’re going to be okay. Just open your eyes, let me see.”
“I’m scared,” Ai whispers, words gone before she realizes they ever formed.
“That’s okay,” Ran-san says, but her voice clearly indicates the opposite. Ai can’t really see the reason why, but a finger is moving across her face now, brushing at the wet trails. It’s probably meant to wipe them away, but it only worries the wet deeper into the skin. When Ran-san speaks again, her voice rattles. “If you don’t want to…. Yeah. If you don’t…. Talk to me instead?”
The mere thought of talking has Ai wanting to vomit. She notes the way her mind spins just trying to think of something to say. Safe things to say. Things that won’t have her identity revealed or Kudo-kun compromised. But articulation is too hard, and her head hurts. Her head hurts.
Ai holds out her hand, grasping. “What about?”
A palm, thrice the size of hers, clasps tightly into her waiting one. “Tell me about school.”
Ai laughs, harshly. It hurts. But it also pushes the thoughts away as they are given a new task. She doesn’t know what school was about the other day (heatstroke or mundanity, she can’t decide) but she can try. If it means Ran-san doesn’t cry anymore, she will try.