Chapter Text
Flower petals blinded her sight, and the floral scent invaded her nose.
She winced, tearing her gaze away from the yellow ball of fire in the sky.
It was so bright, so sunny. Sunny in the way it hasn’t been in years. It wasn’t too hot nor too cold like it sometimes was; it didn’t make her ill like the real world did, didn’t make her vomit her insides out on the pavement, didn’t make her clothes stick uncomfortably to her skin.
This place…it provided peace, a space free of monsters and the sounds of war. There were no soldiers eager to shoot anything in sight, no dogs to maul them, and there were no snipers to avoid.
The air was clear, and she could finally breathe without inhaling the suffocating smell of smoke and the nauseating smell of the rotting bodies they pass. The grass was green, empty of the usual corpses and blood.
In this place, she was clean. Her hands weren’t stained with blood, and there wasn’t dirt stuck in every crevice of her body. Here, her clothes weren’t dirtied with the reminder of her sins, and her hair was a golden-green instead of the usual muddy, swamp color it was in the outside world.
She almost couldn’t believe it. It was too good to believe. Well, it was a dream, after all. Just something her brain made up to distract her from the horror she is and will experience when she wakes up.
It’s better than nothing, she supposes. (She didn’t deserve this gift from God. Not after what she had done.)
This is the dream Coco always had.
(When had she fallen asleep?)
Ever since she could remember, it had always been the same: a field full of flowers, a sunny sky, a peaceful world. At first, she had never noticed the other three.
Three girls.
Everyone was confused but each did their own thing. And—to Coco’s disappointment—for some odd reason, they weren’t able to speak or hear each other. At least, that was her situation.
As much as she had wanted to make friends with them, she could never interact with them. Resigned to this fact, she could merely stare from afar with a pout as her chubby fingers played with the flowers.
The first time the dream stayed with her, Coco remembers running to her mom the next morning to tell her the news. She gave Coco a look of amusement, picking her up to give her a peck on the cheek.
Coco still remembers her voice. “Those girls must be your guardian angels.”
She cocked her head to the side, adorable eyes filled with curiosity. “Guardian angel? What’s that, mommy?”
Her mom smiled at her confusion. She pinched her fat baby cheeks, both of them laughing as Coco attempted to swat her mom’s hands away.
“Well, my Coco, guardian angels are special angels sent by God to protect you. They’ll be there for you no matter what,” She kissed the tip of her nose, chuckling at the way Coco scrunched her face. “And it seems my baby is extra special, since you’ve got three guardian angels!”
.
.
.
It’s best to move forward.
Either way, this dream was no different from the others.
As usual, Coco always saw them. First, it was a dark purple (black?), a girl with a mean look on her face, yet she looked so beautiful Coco couldn’t take her eyes off her. Next, it was a bright pink, a girl who looked and dressed as if she was a princess. Last, it was a shiny light blue that blessed her vision, a girl with an adorable, deadpan expression.
Regrettably, she had never been able to find out their names. Even after all these years.
Coco only observed in the shadows (well, there weren't any shadows but y’know…). Her fingers drifted across the flowers, her touch gentle as if afraid they’d suddenly disappear. The girls were beautiful, untouched by the brutality of war. She couldn’t help but feel jealous.
Ever since the war started, it was hard trying to meet the necessary needs her body needed. She made do anyway.
She sighed, blowing her hair out of her face. The girls were doing what they usually do. The two long haired girls were making flower crowns as the dark purple haired girl watched. They talked amongst themselves (something they had been able to do only a few years ago). She lifted her head a bit higher, hoping to hear something. She let it fall with a groan when all she could hear was the wind howling and the vague, faint sound of their conversation.
This had to be the thousandth time they made flower crowns. Haven’t they gotten tired of it? Coco would’ve. Though, maybe they were just better than her in that sense.
She watched, completely silent as she observed them. They were in their own little world. They chatted like nothing was wrong, probably about school or something Coco wasn’t familiar with. They continued to make flower crowns.
She huffed. As long as she had been here, it didn’t mean she never got bored. It was a bit…lonely here since she couldn’t exactly interact with them in any way. And with the noticeable absence of her friends, she had started to get restless.
As she started to lie down, something caught her eye. Coco shot up once again. The dark purple haired girl was making a flower crown! Her hands flew up to her face as she tried to hide the giddy smile that overtook her face. This was the cutest, most interesting thing that’s ever happened! (She wiped her eyes under her mask just in case she was crying.)
She let out a chuckle at how badly the girl was doing. Her movements were a bit clumsy, but she was trying her best. And her blush was just the cutest!! The ice queen was melting…
Her grin faltered before turning bitter. She could feel herself clenching and unclenching the grass below her. Kids her age were hard to come across nowadays. Alive, anyway. They usually found their corpses littered around, either starved or killed. Some had fates worse than others.
She remembered all too well the stench of their rotting flesh. She remembered their screams and pleas for help.
At least, she could get some peace in here…She wished she could enjoy it with Custas and the others. God, do they need it as much as she does.
Stretching her arms out, she slowly stood up, making sure to stretch out the rest of her body too. She’d be sitting there forever, and frankly, she’d gotten tired of it (How long had she been there? Why can’t she—). ‘Maybe today I should try something new…’ She tapped her chin with her finger as she turned away from the girls.
It was suddenly quiet.
Badump
Coco halted in her thoughts. Her body became rigid, her breathing quieting. She listened. The sound of the wind filled her ears. The girls’ voices were suspiciously absent. She couldn’t hear the faint sound of their conversation anymore.
Badump
It’s quiet for a few more moments. She can hear her heart practically trying to pound out of her chest. She let out a quiet, trembling breath, attempting to keep herself from hyperventilating. All she could hear was the thumping sound of her heartbeat beating against her chest.
Badump
Eventually, the sound of grass rustling behind her made her whip her head around. She quickly snatched her rusty knife from her belt, placing it in front of her as protection.
“Ahh!?”
“What the—“
Two voices overlapped, both of them yelling. Coco flinched, backing away as soon as sound left their mouths.
Her eyes widened, and she let out a deep breath of relief. The knot in her stomach began unwinding, and her breathing evened out. It’s just the girls. God, she felt nauseous.
Realization hit her. ‘Oh—wait—it’s the girls. Shit!’.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” Coco waved her hands in front of her. They all flinched again at the sight of the knife in her hand. “Ah—shit, sorry!” This time, she dropped it and lifted up her hands where they could see them.
“Haha…sorry about that…” She smiled gently—or, tried to—waving her now empty hands. “Look, I don’t have the knife anymore!”
They gaped at her, clutching at each other’s shoulders. Coco sweatdropped. ‘What a great first impression…’ she grumbled internally.
“W-why-“ The girl with pink hair was the first to speak up. “Why do you have a knife?!” She shrieked, pointing an accusing finger at Coco.
Coco glanced down, nudging the knife at her feet. “Oh, this small thing?” She bent down, looking at the girls until they each hesitantly nodded, and picked the weapon back up to place back on her belt. “It’s just a knife—y’know…for basic protection..?”
The dark purple haired girl cut in this time. “Basic protection?! Kids shouldn’t be carrying weapons!” She glared harshly at her, crossing her arms.
Coco stared for a few moments. The girl twitched, nervously sweating at the way she was looking at her up and down.
Coco hummed, tapping her chin with her index finger as she suddenly smiled.
“You guys…aren’t from the Outside, are you?” The girls stilled, eyes widening in realization. Shame welled up in their stomachs. Coco continued on. “Well, I had a feeling. You guys act so happy-go-lucky, even I was surprised at first.”
It was quiet for a few moments, the air thick with suffocating tension. The girls fidgeted in place, each one carrying a guilty expression. Coco’s smile wavered, taking notice of the dampened mood.
‘Ah, did I make them uncomfortable…?’ She let out a quiet huff. ‘The war isn’t very…I should change the subject…’
Coco cleared her throat, gathering the attention of the others once again. “Ahem…sorry about my rudeness. I—…hm, I’m not used to having to explain this kind of stuff.” She smiled gently at them, hoping to ease their guilt. It didn’t seem to work.
“Haha…How about we start over? Introduce ourselves?” She offered, tilting her head to the side like a dog. When the others didn’t protest, she continued. “Then, I’ll go first. My name’s Coco, and I’m…14 years old..?” Her voice grew weaker and less confident as she talked. ‘I am around 14, right..? Wow, this is going terribly.’
Before she could beat herself up further, the shortest of the girls piped up. She stepped forward, eyes blazing with…something Coco couldn’t decipher. “We’re sorry for being insensitive. Richeh’s name is Richeh. We’re all the same age as you.” The pink haired girl squeaked when Richeh nudged her.
“Oh! Yes, and I’m Tetia! Um…sorry about sneaking up on you, we really didn’t mean to scare you…” Tetia bowed her head.
Coco let out a nervous laugh. “It’s really okay…I shouldn’t have, um, pulled a knife out on you guys…”
The dark purple haired girl let out an exasperated sigh, interrupting them before they could give any more awkward apologies. “Stop with the apologies, both of you,” She turned towards Coco, never breaking eye contact (Coco totally didn’t blush. Nope, definitely just sun burnt).
“My name is Agott,” Agott stepped in Coco’s space, eyes sharp and filled with blazing determination. “And how are you here?”
Coco’s face lit on fire as heat rushed to her cheeks. Her grin strained, and she looked at the sky, pointedly avoiding Agott’s pointed (beautiful) gaze. She felt way too sweaty. Could Agott notice how red her face was? Was it obvious…?
“Oh—well, you see…I’ve been here the whole time?” She stepped away from Agott. “I mean, I’ve been coming here ever since I could remember.”
The three girls blinked. It was quiet for a few moments before Tetia spoke up. “Wait, so you’ve always been here? Why did we never see you?”
Richeh considered it for a moment before nodding. “It makes sense,” At Agott and Tetia's confused faces, she sighed. “Remember? We weren’t able to talk to each other until a few years ago.”
“Huh, she’s right…”
“Okay, but that doesn’t explain why she can talk to us now.”
“How is Richeh supposed to know?”
Coco sweatdropped. ‘They’re talking about me as if I’m not here…’
Suddenly, Tetia gasped loudly, interrupting Coco’s thoughts and Agott and Richeh’s debate. Everyone turned towards her, and she blushed.
Richeh and Coco stared. Agott arched her brow. “Did you figure something out?”
Tetia smiled sheepishly, fidgeting in place. “Maybe, but I’m not actually sure it means anything..”
Agott scoffed, placing her hands on her hips. “Come on, tell us already.” Richeh nodded in agreement while Coco just shrugged and smiled hesitantly, going for an encouraging look.
Tetia scratched the back of her neck. “We were only able to talk a few years ago, right?” She started, looking at Agott and Richeh for confirmation. She spoke again when they both nodded. “Well, a few years ago, we also met each other!”
Agott’s face scrunched up in confusion before realization flickered in her eyes, and her eyes widened. “So, you think—“
Tetia nodded excitedly, pointing at Agott. “Yeah, yeah! You get what I’m saying!”
Richeh and Coco watched from the sidelines and glanced at each other in confusion. Richeh raised a brow, still keeping a bored expression. Coco shrugged in response, shaking her head.
A beat passed.
‘Can Richeh try your hat?’
Wordlessly, Coco unbuckled the strap of her helmet and handed it to the shorter girl. Richeh immediately put it on, beaming. It was already too big for Coco, but it looked much larger on Richeh’s head.
“Hey!”
Coco jumped slightly, startled by the sudden volume. Richeh merely stood there, clearly unbothered as if she was used to it.
Agott huffed. “Are you guys even paying attention?” She asked, arms crossed over one another.
Coco felt heat rise to her cheeks again, and she nodded quickly, responding to Agott and trying to get rid of her blush. Richeh blinked like a lazy cat, merely content with wearing Coco’s helmet.
Agott gave an exhausted sigh, clearly unconvinced. “Whatever…let’s just get back on topic…”
Coco let out a sheepish chuckle, scratching her cheek. She opened her mouth to apologize. “Sorry, Sor—“
She stopped.
Her head throbbed with familiar pain, ears ringing as if a bomb had dropped next to her ear. She groaned quietly, clutching at her head. Her forehead felt sweaty and too hot.
“Co—“
She felt a stabbing pain in her stomach. Her heart pounded against it as if trying to escape its enclosure. She gagged, hunching over the beautiful, clean grass. She slapped a hand over her mouth, desperate to keep it in.
Hands clutched her shoulders.
“Are—okay?!”
There was something. A familiar feeling.
It’s so warm, so wet.
Blood.
There was blood, she realized. Blood poured from her nose, pooling into her hands, dirtying the grass.
Ink stained hands grasped at her sweaty face, holding her tight as if scared she'd suddenly drop dead. A giggle bubbled in her chest at the thought before it turned into coughs. Her entire body jerked violently with each harsh, wet cough.
“Shh, shh, shh, it’s okay—“
It wasn’t okay. It wasn’t. Something was wrong.
(When had she fallen asleep?)
She forced open her eyes, lifting her head to comfort the others. One golden green dazed eye met concerned, frightened purples.
A smaller set of hands gently pulled her hair back. Another pair of hands, larger ones this time, rubbed her hunched back soothingly.
They didn’t know what to do, she realized. They surrounded her frantically, comforting her with watery eyes and searching for any clue on how to help. The girls were not like how Coco and the others were; they did not grow up watching people drop dead around them, watching as food became scarce, and civilians starved. The girls have not experienced the weight of sin. They were like baby lambs, confused and panicked, and she’s scaring them.
Through the warm, sticky blood, she opened her mouth. She ignored the overwhelming taste of iron.
“It’s…hah…okay…I’m fine…” She gasped out, voice weak and pitiful. She strained her muscles, trying to smile. It didn’t work.
Agott’s eyes teared up. She scrunched up her face, determined not to let them fall, determined to seem strong in this time of need.
‘It hurts…’
(When had she fallen asleep?)
Her eyes fluttered, and her knees buckled. Hands grasped and clutched onto her desperately, frantically holding her up. Distantly, she could hear screaming—it was the girls. She wanted to get up and comfort them, but she was so sleepy and could only listen helplessly as they cried.
(“Coco?! No, no, no—“)
She felt so tired. She wanted to sleep. Cuddling with Custas felt nice right now.
(“What do we do?!”)
He always…
(“Coco, stop, please!”)
…gave good hugs…
Coco doesn’t wake up gently.
Her body jolted, back cracking violently with the movement. Her arms flailed out, and her fingers clawed at the wet mud beneath her while her legs swung out wildly. She gasped for air desperately, but it was almost impossible to take a full breath without feeling the aching pain of something moving in the crevices of her ribs.
She wakes up confused with no idea where the hell she was and why it hurts so much. Her eyes burn as if they’re on fire, ugly tears streaming down her face.
She inhaled sharply, desperate to breathe, before it dissolved into coughing. Her body shook with every harsh ‘hack—ggkk—!’ It continued for a few more agonizing seconds before she turned over on her stomach and gave one last brutal cough.
She had never liked throwing up. She might even go as far as to say it’s one of the worst things in the world, even in this war. She had been sick countless times before, forced to throw up nothing but bile and spit because there was no food, and they were left to starve.
Something traveled painfully through her esophagus. Iron and the taste of ink swirled in her mouth before her body forced it out.
Splat.
A mix of blood and ink covered the mud, leaving a bitter taste in her mouth.
And with that, she is able to breathe again. She gasped desperately, finally getting the oxygen she needed. She laid on the wet, muddy ground, trying to catch her breath as quietly as she could. She was very aware she wasn’t asleep anymore and not in the safety of that place. She needed to remember that she was in the real world now, and that meant being on high alert all the time.
Her stomach growled painfully, and she wheezed quietly with every breath. She needed to get up. She couldn’t stay here forever, not when she had no idea where the others were.
She held her stomach as she sat up slowly, struggling with every movement. She stopped for a moment, wheezing as she caught her breath again. Everything hurt, and she didn’t know why. Nevertheless, she couldn’t afford to lick her wounds right now.
She looked around in a daze, trying her best to take in her surroundings. Her vision was mostly blurry, and she could only see the outline of the trees. She squinted but couldn’t see anything. It was almost pitch black if not for the light from the moon.
Coco squeezed her eyes shut, gritting her teeth harshly. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t just—be a fucking wounded idiot. She wanted to snap at something, anything. She dug her fingers into the cold mud, gripping it as hard as she could as it gathered in between her fingers.
She needed to find Custas, needed to find Tartah, needed to find Ininia. She needed to find Custas, she needed to find her brother—
Fingers grasped at her shoulder.
(Get off, please—get off!
It hurts, it hurts!
Stop, please—)
She didn’t think, couldn’t think.
Muddy fingers grasped at scratchy, dirty skin. A surprised gasp. She ignored it. She squeezed and squeezed and squeezed. She couldn’t allow them to hurt her—
(Blood poured into the dark, squishy mud. She could only wheeze—)
Their hands slapped at her face, clawing at anything they could get their hands on. They scratched, nails digging painfully into her skin, and hit but to no avail. She barely blinked.
The night was silent except for the sounds of their struggle. Their clothes rustled as they fought each other, and the sounds of wheezing and panicked cries filled the air.
The person panted, desperately trying to escape Coco’s hold. Their legs swung out wildly from beneath her, and they gripped her wrists until they bruised. Even then, she did not falter.
“Coco—!” A voice choked out her name.
Some distant, aware part of her brain recognized the voice. She paused, loosening her grip and hesitating for a split second. That moment was enough for the person under her to make their move.
Coco gasped sharply as a kick was delivered to her gut. She fell to the ground hard, wheezing as the wind was knocked out of her. She inhaled desperately as she tried to breathe. She whimpered pathetically and clutched her stomach.
They both laid there in the dark, coughing as they caught their breath with occasional choked coughs from both of them.
‘It hurts…’
Where was she?
Why couldn’t she—
“Coco?” A weak voice called out to her. It had sounded so scared and frail, obviously strained from her earlier attack.
It felt like the wind was knocked out of her all over again.
All she could hear was the pounding of her heart beating against her chest. She wanted to tear it out.
Badump
That fucking voice.
Badump
That person she was strangling with her own hands, the person she was trying to kill—
Badump
was her little brother, Custas.
She whimpered pathetically, burning tears streaming down her cheeks as she took in her sin. She had almost killed both of them. She had almost killed both of them. It’s the unfortunate truth, but it is something that she is forced to accept. It is a burden that she must bear. She is a sinner and so she tears a laugh from her exhausted body as she cries in shame.
Her frame trembled, and she hung her head low. She couldn’t look at Custas. If she didn’t have the others, at least, she had her guilt. It hugged her as she sobbed silently.
What was her mom’s name?
What had he looked like again?
Custas scooted closer to Coco as subtlety as he could. Hesitantly, he lifted his hand slowly, long enough for Coco to move away. She didn’t. It’s not as if she could anyway. Her mind and body were too exhausted.
When Coco didn’t move away, Custas finally closed the distance. He leaned in and wrapped his arms around her shaking frame. His skin was cold and clammy, covered in sweat and dirt and a whole bunch of other shit they’ve picked up from being on the road. He held her tight, nails digging into her as if afraid she’d suddenly disappear. It was everything but nice; they were both muddy, and the air was humid and cramped. Yet, Coco felt like she was home. In Custas’s arms, she could finally let her shoulders drop and rest her head on his shoulder.
His hugs were not something that was common. He rarely ever gave them, especially in front of the others. He’s embarrassed, she thinks. So, she made sure to treasure this moment in his embrace before they had to face the reality of war again.
They hugged for a few moments longer before Custas spoke up again. “Coco,” His voice was rough, raspy from the attack on his throat. She winced at the sound of it before guilt washed over her again. She had caused that, and here she was, being hugged. She was the bigger sister, she was supposed to be comforting him.
Coco blinked the tears out of her eyes. She needed to get it together. She wrapped her arms around him, brushing his tangled, greasy hair between her fingers. She rocked them back and forth gently.
“I’m sorry,” She whispered to Custas. He nodded—as much as he could in their embrace—and his grip tightened around her. They patted each other’s back before pulling away.
They got up slowly, mindful of their injuries. Custas gave Coco a helpful hand, pulling her to her feet.
They glanced around their surroundings. Coco’s vision had improved after that whole…fight. Although she couldn’t see completely clear, things weren’t as blurry now.
He tugged at her sleeve. “We’re inside a forest, Coco,” Custas spoke in a low tone. Immediately, Coco nodded as she took in the information. She had a feeling but wasn’t quite sure.
“Where are the others?” She asked. She almost didn’t want to know. Not that she didn’t want to find them, but she couldn’t bear knowing what their fate could be.
Custas was quiet for a moment.
“…Don’t know.” He simply responded.
Coco held back an irritated sigh and quickly schooled her expression before it could show on her face. She wasn’t mad at him—more so their situation—but she was hoping they’d at least have a clue.
They nodded to each other, reaching a silent agreement.
She held his hand firmly, Custas mirroring the action. She tugged him along as they started walking. To where, she didn’t know. But Tartah and Ininia were waiting for them, wherever they were.
Coco would find them. She needed to find them.
Together, they marched forward.