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“Saki?”
Honami quietly whispered into the darkness. The girl had been growing scared of the light as of these past few years.
“Saki,” Honami whispered once more. “Saki, I’m here.”
A lingering silence.
…
And then a long, low grunt.
Honami instantly relaxed. That was permission to proceed.
A long time ago, it would be two words: Come in.
Then it became a simple mhm once she no longer held the capacity to speak.
Eventually, her throat had changed so much that she could no longer make any noise other than grunts, groans, and growls.
Communication had been… difficult, to say the least. But the two of them found a way to get by.
Honami walked quietly with steady footsteps and closed up the entrance behind her, just large enough for a human to enter. Behind her, she pulled a large cart, much heavier than she was used to.
The scent of blood diffused throughout the enclosed space.
Blood.
Fresh blood. Human blood.
Honami had a sinking, horrible feeling in her stomach as terrible memories returned to her mind, but she did what she could to keep it all down.
It was worth it, she reminded herself. She had to do it.
For Saki.
It was all for Saki.
For the past… god, it’s had to have been maybe four or five years now? For the past several years, everything she’s done has been for Saki.
All the pain she felt, all the misery she endured. If Honami could do even one thing to alleviate it, she would do it.
No matter what it was.
No matter what.I
…
She took a series of turns. She had them memorized by now. The stone walls, the frigid air… it was all familiar to her. Deeper and deeper she went, to the spaces light could not touch.
She couldn’t see a thing in the darkness, yet she knew exactly when to stop.
Saki never moved from her spot. Not anymore.
“I’m here, Saki,” Honami whispered. She reached out and came into contact with skin that did not feel like flesh.
Honami no longer knew what she looked like.
She remembered the girl’s face. She remembered her face, her figure. She remembered how she used to stand, how she used to walk, how she used to smile, back when she was still mortal.
She remembered soft skin, dextrous fingers, pigtails that faded blonde-to-pink.
She remembered watching her eyes gradually darken until they turned black as tar. She remembered watching her teeth grow long and sharp, her fingers turn long and thin. She remembered watching her face morph slowly and painfully, horribly painfully beyond recognition until she became something different altogether. Something inhuman.
A throat that could no longer sing. Hands that could no longer be held. Skin that was no longer skin.
Growing, growing. Outgrowing human society. Outgrowing the human world. Honami watched it happen, inch by inch, meter by meter.
The last thing she saw of her was the beginning of two fleshy wings. Thin, translucent enough to see the blood vessels that ran through them, to see the distorted bone that rapidly grew from nubs to gnarled rods. Fragile enough to bleed at the slightest provocation. Blood that no longer resembled blood.
It wasn’t long after that she began to hide from the light.
…no longer how monstrous she became, how far from humanity she strayed, Honami never stopped thinking she was beautiful.
Each strange, scary sound she made. Each trembling, agonizing movement she took. Each slow, shaky breath she exhaled.
Beneath it all, she knew it was still Saki.
She knew Saki was still in there somewhere.
She knew, somewhere deep, deep beneath the beastly exterior that everyone else saw… she knew it was still her friend.
She knew it was still her childhood friend.
Her beloved childhood friend who loved snacks and kittens and the color pink.
Who once played the keyboard, until her fingers could no longer hit the right keys. Who once sang beautifully, until her throat could no longer produce the right sounds. Who once gazed up at the heavens with her, until she could no longer withstand the light.
They kissed, once.
They kissed, many times.
They held each other tight and vowed never to let go. Back when the girl was still mortal. Back when the girl was still human.
Honami remembered her joy. Her tenderness. The way she would snuggle up closer when Honami ran her fingers through her long, flowing, sometimes tangled hair. The way she would start yawning almost exactly half an hour before she fell asleep, if left undisturbed. The way she would start crying uncontrollably if she got too happy.
She was still in there somewhere.
Honami knew she was.
She was beautiful back then, and she still was, and she always would be.
No matter how much she changed.
No matter what she looked like now.
No matter how different she became.
It was still Saki, and it would always be Saki, and Saki would always, always be beautiful.
Was that a strange thing to think?
Was that a strange thing to say?
Perhaps it was.
Or perhaps it wasn’t.
Honami didn’t know. Honami didn’t care. Not anymore.
“I’m here, Saki,” she whispered again.
Saki moved.
Honami could tell, from the way the air molecules suddenly changed trajectory.
Saki moving was almost always a good thing.
“...it’s your birthday today, Saki,” Honami continued, softly, keeping her voice as low as she could. Saki didn’t like it when things got too loud. “Do you remember?”
A rumble. Something akin to a purr.
It made Honami smile.
She’s so cute. She’s still so cute.
“I made a cake for you,” Honami said, and the rumbling grew ever so slightly louder. It took all of her willpower to avoid giggling-- her giggle was too high-pitched for Saki’s comfort. “I’m going to walk away for a second to bring it to you, okay?”
A grunt.
That meant yes.
Very slowly, very quietly-- but not too quietly, or else Saki would get anxious-- she lifted the cake off the cart.
It was a struggle not to drop it, considering it was almost as tall as she was. Saki had been growing quickly, much quicker than Honami could keep up with.
How large was she now? Honami didn’t know. All she was certain of was that one hand was nearly enough to wrap around her entire body.
“Strawberry and carob,” she whispered as she set it down in front of Saki. Carob, not chocolate. She remembered how devastated Saki was when chocolate became toxic to her. “I… hope you like it!”
Very, very slowly, Saki moved her head to eat, giving a low cry of pain as she did so.
Her cries. A frequency Honami couldn’t hear at first. A frequency nobody could hear except the two of them.
Nothing like how she used to cry when she was little.
A long time ago, all four of them played tag. Honami, Saki, and two other friends who were very, very dear to them.
Honami remembered how Saki cried when she tripped and fell. A wail, a sob. Tears and sniffles. Stammering, babbling.
It was nothing like the cries she emitted now.
The type of sound that skipped the ears and burrowed, past skin, past muscle, past the ribs, straight to the heart. A fluid, amorphous sound, almost suffocating, certainly terrifying.
Honami didn’t like hearing that sound.
It meant she was in pain.
Amidst her cry, she heard Saki take a bite.
Good. Now she knew where her head was.
Honami reached up and gently stroked her cheek. At least, what used to be her cheek.
She twitched. An attempt at a nuzzle.
…Honami tried to blink away tears.
She gave a kiss, soft and gentle, upon what she thought must be her nose.
A rumble, a rumble.
“...I love you, Saki.” She did what she could to keep her voice steady, to keep Saki calm. “I love you so much, Saki. So, so much.”
Saki did not respond. She simply continued to eat.
It didn’t take long for Saki to finish. Not long at all, and that scared her.
Saki must have gotten bigger.
Saki must have been hungry.
Honami didn’t realize how much she had grown. Honami didn’t realize how much more she needed to eat.
And that wasn’t good, not good at all.
…Saki sniffed. She could smell the blood.
Honami bit her lip, tapped her foot, fidgeted with her hands.
She didn’t want to do this. She didn’t think she was ready.
But Saki needed this. What kind of friend was she?
Honami shook her head. Stop it, stop it.
“Did you like it?” she asked. Change the topic. Change the topic.
Saki responded with a quiet grumble. Honami knew that meant she was happy, and she was fairly certain that meant yes, but it was getting difficult to tell. She didn’t like that she couldn’t tell what Saki was trying to say.
Change the topic. Change the topic.
Honami took a deep breath. “I… I also brought more flowers for… for them.”
Saki didn’t respond. She must be confused.
Honami found that she had less of a reaction when she didn’t mention the two of them by name.
Eventually, she stopped thinking about them by name as well.
Their dear childhood friends, who came together and split apart and came back together again and… split back apart again.
…
Honami would never forget the day.
The day she came home to find that Saki was no longer in her room, the room she had barricaded herself in for weeks and refused to unlock no matter how much everyone begged. To find the fridge completely ransacked, all the packages of raw meat torn open and empty. To find the walls and floors splattered with blood and hair and organs Honami could no longer identify.
To find a human torso, with ribs cracked open and viscera still churning and eyes still open wide staring at nothing, at everything. A second torso, with a throat ripped out, with a heart missing from its space, with a mouth ready to speak words that would never come.
To find Saki, nearly unrecognizable, grotesquely sharp fangs stained with red, flesh and vomit dribbling out of her mouth, curled up in the corner and crying and crying and crying.
Honami remembered being scared.
She remembered being nauseated.
She remembered being horrified.
She remembered the scent of blood-- strong, too strong, metallic, repulsive, so strong she swore she could taste it, so strong it made her gag, so strong it wrapped its thick tendrils around her tight enough to stop her breathing altogether.
She remembered sticky footsteps, feet forever stained with the fluids of her beloveds, red that she knew would remain on her skin for the rest of her existence and never wash out no matter how hard she tried.
She remembered terror, a crawling feeling along her skin, a nauseating feeling in her stomach, a sinking feeling in her gut. Then grief, as the reality hit her, stabbing her over and over in the heart and missing, missing every time, until at last she began to wish her heart could be skewered through just to put an end to this excruciating, unbearable pain.
…and she remembered holding her regardless, kneeling beside the very creature that took the lives of those most precious to her. Holding her and stroking her head and shaking and gagging and trying not to cry, trying her very very best not to cry as she helped her finish her meal.
She was hungry, after all. Very, very hungry, and she needed to eat.
No matter how much time passed, that day would forever remain fresh in her memory.
Saki didn’t like it when their names were said.
She didn’t seem to care as long as Honami avoided their names.
Did Saki not understand who she was talking about? Did Saki even understand her anymore in the first place?
Honami didn’t know. She would rather not consider that. She would rather pretend Saki was still Saki, and Saki would keep being Saki forever and ever and she would be with her forever and ever and…
…ah. She was crying again.
Honami wiped her tears. She didn’t want Saki to know she was crying.
She was grateful it was so dark.
“I left them outside,” she told Saki. Strong floral scents began bothering her long ago.
Saki had no response.
…
Was she too weak to respond?
The possibility scared her.
Or maybe she was just waiting to be fed.
…
Her answer came in the form of a growl.
And then she moved again.
Honami was surprised, just for a second. What was she doing? That’s not like her, not at all.
It must be the scent of blood, Honami decided.
Saki always acted out when Honami brought blood.
Animal blood, of course. Most of the time, it would be the cubed stuff she could find at the market. It was never fresh, and Saki never seemed to enjoy it very much.
Fresh blood was more difficult to obtain, but Saki loved it. Whenever she had the chance, she would speak to the local butcher or get in contact with somebody who liked to hunt.
It’s good for my garden, she would claim. An excuse she made up long ago and stuck with ever since. It was simple. And it worked. They would joke about her garden being bloodthirsty, and she would laugh politely, and no further questions would be asked.
Blood and flesh. The two had quickly become Saki’s favorite delicacies.
Saki used to despise her acquired taste for flesh. Back when she could still express discontent in any way other than crying, back when she could still be called human by any definition of the term.
Nowadays, she didn’t seem to care.
That was good for Honami. Feeding her became easier.
Saki growled once more, and Honami knew she must be getting impatient.
“Shh… it’s okay, Saki,” she whispered. “I’m going to feed you now, alright?”
Slowly, she reached back towards the cart and grabbed…
…
And… grabbed…
…
Ah…
Honami’s breath faltered.
…its hand still held a little bit of warmth.
…
They didn’t deserve this.
That was the first thought that went through her head, though it was quickly superseded by another, marginally more comforting idea:
Saki deserves this.
…yes. Yes, just think of it that way. It’s all for Saki. It’s all for Saki.
That was how she pushed back the guilt that clawed and clawed at her throat until she could neither speak nor breathe. That was how she kept away the burning tears that threatened to fall upon the ground. That was how she suppressed the memories-- the sound of fear, the scent of blood, the sight of darkened eyes slowly clouding over as life drained from the body.
Yes. It was all for Saki.
It was all for Saki, and nothing else mattered aside from her.
Don’t think about anything else. Just don’t.
Don’t.
Don’t think about how horrifying it felt to end the life of a human being for the first time. A human being just like her, who might have had family, might have had friends, might have had somebody waiting for them at the end of the day.
Don’t think about how they might have had dreams and ambitions. Don’t think about how they had just as much of a right to live as anybody else. Don’t think about how they were a living, breathing human being with their very own thoughts and feelings and interests and troubles that were just as deep as her own and she brought it all to an end as if it was nothing simply because they happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and they didn’t deserve to--
No.
Don’t think about it.
Don’t think about any of it.
Just… just think about Saki.
Just Saki.
Saki.
Saki deserved something special for her birthday, didn’t she?
Saki deserved…
…
Saki deserved it.
Saki deserved it.
That was what she repeated over and over as she lifted the corpse, limbs trembling, heart pounding, and set it down in front of Saki.
“H… happy birthday, Saki,” she whispered, keeping her voice as steady as she could.
And then she heard it.
The crunch of bone. The wet squelching of blood. Honami gasped and stepped back when she felt a few droplets hit her clothing.
…she had never seen Saki eat this quickly before.
Crunch, swallow. Crunch, swallow. Was she even chewing? Honami doubted it. She would remind her to slow down while eating, but for some reason, she was having trouble finding her voice.
Saki ate. She ate hungrily, unstoppably. Honami wondered if the girl felt the same guilt that she did just now. The answer was probably no.
…
It must have taken fifteen minutes before the noises stopped.
Fifteen minutes.
Fifteen minutes.
…that was hardly any time at all.
Saki made another rumble, then… roared.
Honami was taken aback.
It had been ages since she’d done that.
The sound of… something… hitting against the walls. Something large.
Saki was moving.
Saki was… moving?
Where did she get the energy all of a sudden…?
…
It must have been the food.
It must have been the…
…the-- the corpse.
Human flesh. Human blood.
…of course.
Of course.
No wonder Saki had been so weak all these years. Honami wasn’t feeding her properly, was she?
Was that the cause of all her pain? All her weakness? Honami bit her lip. If… if she had just realized from the beginning-- if she had just figured out what Saki needed to eat, she wouldn’t have wasted so much time, she wouldn’t have caused so much suffering with supermarket meat and animal blood.
Was this what Saki needed?
…Honami would gladly provide if so! She-- she might have some trouble, but she’d just have to suck it up and push through, if that was what Saki needed.
She’d find a way. She had to! She’d do anything for Saki-- anything, anything at all, no matter what it was…!
She stepped forward, wincing when she felt something wet beneath her feet, and reached a hand out to touch Saki’s face.
“Did you… d- did you like… it…?” she asked. Slowly. Softly.
Saki growled.
…growled?
“Are… you still hungry…?” Honami guessed.
A rumble.
A loud rumble.
…
She took a deep breath.
…she’d do anything for her.
Anything.
Anythi--
Honami jumped back when she felt Saki move again.
…
Her breathing grew unsteady. All of a sudden, she seemed to be suffocating. Her heart pounded faster than she could keep up with, and her legs began moving backwards on their own.
Saki snarled.
To her own surprise, she yelped.
…
Was she… afraid?
Was she afraid of the creature before her? The creature that once was-- no, still is-- the creature that still is her childhood friend, her beloved, her Saki?
Was…
Was she afraid of Saki?
…
No.
No, that-- that couldn’t be possible, right?
Saki was… Saki was her friend! How could she ever be scared of her friend?
And even if she didn’t look like Saki anymore, or sound like Saki, or even act like Saki… it-- it was still her, wasn’t it?
It was still…
She was still… Saki… wasn’t she…?
…
Saki took a step forward.
Panic shot through Honami’s system. Saki’s never done this before.
What was she doing?
What was she doing?
“S- Saki--”
A growl, with nothing but malice within.
Honami’s knees gave out, leaving her collapsed on the ground. She felt her throat close up.
What was she doing?
“Saki-- Saki, it’s… it’s me, Honami--”
A growl, with not a hint of kindness beneath. Another step closer.
Honami couldn’t move.
“It-- it’s me, remember? Remember me? Hona? Y- your… your friend? Or your… something else…? W- we never really got to--”
Honami screamed when Saki moved yet closer.
She could feel her heavy breaths.
Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes.
“Saki, Saki please-- you remember me, right? You and me, we were friends, and… a- and…”
A growl. A snarl. Saki was close enough that Honami could not only hear it, but feel it.
She began to cry.
She knew the sound bothered Saki, but she couldn’t stop herself. She couldn’t, no matter how hard she tried.
“I… Ichika… Shiho… y- you remember them, r- right…? Our… our f- friends…? Please… S- Saki, please…”
Some part of Saki’s monstrous, inhuman body made contact with Honami’s chest. It pressed down, hard, pinning her against the ground and sending a horrific, excruciating pain throughout her body as a loud crack reverberated between her ears.
She cried.
She cried and cried and cried, screaming, thrashing, tears falling uncontrollably, sobs echoing throughout the space, holding onto whatever part of Saki she found her hands upon out of sheer reflex as if that would bring her the comfort she sought until she lost the energy to keep fighting.
Saki.
Saki.
“Saki,” she whimpered, so quietly she couldn’t even hear her own words. “I… I love you so much, Saki.”
Honami sniffled.
“...please…”
…
Something sharp came in contact with her neck.