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She was stepping out of the shower, feeling more refreshed and well-rested than she had in months. Years, maybe. She dressed herself and exited the bathroom into the...hadn’t the suite been bigger? Hadn’t she been here with the team? They were here for a reason, they needed to do something.
What do you want to do, Yukari?
What did she want to do? Well, she had wanted to take a shower. She always showered after operations, before bed. What had they been doing here? Why hadn’t she left? It was weird that it was all so fuzzy and
What do you want?
What did she want?
What did she want?
Show me.
She was home. Her childhood home, in Iwatodai. There were green onions on the windowsill in the kitchen. Her mother at the table. She smiled at Yukari, smiled as if she saw her, as if she liked her. They made a meal together. What did they make? Why couldn’t she remember what they ate?
This wasn’t right. Her mother had never called her by her name before. She didn’t
She was getting dressed for school. It was a beautiful day, and the weather was warm. She wasn’t wearing tights or leggings under her skirt. Her legs were bare, and the skin was smooth. There were no scars to hide. There were friends waiting for her, she knew this as if to doubt it would never even have crossed her mind.
Is this what she wanted? She hadn’t thought about it enough. She usually spent a lot of time trying not to think about it. It made her feel sick when she did. Why was she thinking about it now? What was
Her father was in the doorway of the apartment in Kyoto, older and smiling and he had never been this old, he
She was in her bed, in her dorm, and she wasn’t alone. Someone was there, holding her. Kotone’s chapped lips were rough on hers, her sighs deep as Yukari huffed against them. She was the stronger of the two but she let Yukari push her wrists against the bed and roll on top of her, nails digging into Kotone’s forearms.
Yukari was still on top of her, still sucking hungrily, except it was no longer lips beneath her own mouth but a neck. She glanced up and found Mitsuru there, where she had always been, and Yukari bit hard into her collarbone. Her teeth were sharpened to points, and the flesh tore easily, and as the blood flooded her mouth and stained her skin, Mitsuru’s ecstatic cry filled her ears
and she was still straddling Mitsuru but they were not in her bed, they were in the ruins of the old Kirijo Laboratory, as it must have been years ago, little fires curling in the fresh wreckage. Yukari’s hands were around her throat and they were squeezing, hard, and Mitsuru was reaching back, grasping, scrabbling, kicking underneath her, but Yukari was stronger, and she wouldn’t let go until she knew, until she felt the throbbing under her fingers slow and
the body was cold and pale. Feathers sprouted from its arms, red and blue and made from metal. Razor sharp. There were flowers over its eyes. Petunias. Soft and pink. She approached. She couldn’t hear anything, she couldn’t see anything except the body. There was no earth beneath them. She knew that the body was her. She would not look at its legs. She would not examine the feathers. She would not test the sharpness of its long, long horns. She leaned over the body and blood dripped from her chin onto her other chin. She reached and, trembling, but hesitating for only a moment, made to pick up one of the petunias. She wanted to look at herself.
But there were no eyes beneath the flowers. There were stems, and they were attached to something deep inside her, disappearing into the black holes in her face where her eyes might have been if she were a person. Careful not to harm the petals, she tugged on the stem, and she felt the pull in her belly. She knew that this was important. If she could only have the flower, keep it but not be a part of it anymore, something in her would be different. Better. Healed. She could consume it, maybe. She was good at that. At taking. The body began to shudder and shake as she tugged. The feathers began to flex. It was making sounds with its mouth. She pulled harder. Something inside her was beginning to tear. She was so close. She could
“YUKARI!”
It felt like she was breaking water. She gasped as if she was. She was in an unfamiliar suite, clearly still in the hotel, and Kotone stood very close to her. Her eyes were wide and uncharacteristically scared, which didn’t help Yukari’s sense of mounting panic, which she distantly felt herself surrendering to. Her breaths were coming in fast and shallow, and she was drenched in sweat. Although she didn’t remember it, at some point in the last few moments she’d collapsed to her knees, and her arms were shaking badly as she struggled to focus her vision, anywhere. She found herself leaning against a wall while she waited for it to pass. She registered that Kotone was nearby, but not close enough to trigger anxiety in Yukari, and she didn’t say anything, which Yukari was grateful for.
Eventually she regained enough faculty to start counting out her breaths. Once she could feel her pulse pounding at an only-reasonably-fast rate she cracked her eyes open and peered at Kotone, who was, as she expected, watching her with clear and unblinking eyes. “Fuck,” she breathed.
“Yeah,” came Kotone’s quiet response.
“How long did that take?”
“About ten minutes.”
“Long one.”
“Yeah.”
Yukari looked away. She didn’t want to see whatever might play across Kotone’s face for the next question. “Did you…what happened?”
“One second...Hey Fuuka. Yeah. She’s okay now. We’re gonna get our bearings real quick. Are the others- good. We’ll meet in the lobby. Pass it on, please.” She heard Kotone shift beside her. “I snapped out of it first. You were in some kind of trance. Mumbling things. I couldn’t make them out. I couldn’t wake you up. Then you went for my throat and I pushed you away and you...you started scratching at your eyes. When I tried to grab your wrists you really flailed and that was when I screamed at you. You woke up. Fuuka came back online as soon as both our heads were clear. I told her to give us some privacy.”
Yukari’s hand was halfway up, fingers resting timorously at the hollow of her own neck. “I...went for your throat?” A vision of Mitsuru’s bloodshot eyes, vessels popping. The taste of blood in her mouth. She shook her head sharply, which hurt. She was developing a severe headache.
“It’s okay,” Kotone assured her. “You weren’t yourself. It was the Shadow. I know that.”
Yukari looked at her then, and she didn’t have the willpower to conceal her fear, her shame. “Did it show you things?”
Kotone closed her eyes. Her brow furrowed imperceptibly. “Yes.”
Yukari nodded. Nothing else to say about that. “Thank you for saving me.”
Kotone stood. “Anything.” she said, and then, “Can I touch you?”
At Yukari’s quietly affirmative response, Kotone hoisted her up by the armpits. She was shaky at first, but it left her steadily as they worked their way to the lobby.
***
Yukari didn’t shower that night. She didn’t even want to think about showering. She didn’t know what she did want to think about. Nothing, ideally. She was more tired than she’d ever been after an operation, but sleep wouldn’t find her. She tried studying and found that she was too exhausted to actually be attentive. She went downstairs for an herbal tea blend to soothe her to sleep and found Mitsuru sitting alone at the dining table, uncharacteristically hunched over a mug. Her back was to the stairs and she didn’t seem to have noticed Yukari’s presence, so she retreated as quickly and quietly as possible. Mitsuru was the last person she wanted to be alone with right now. She tried to listen to music to distract herself into sleep but rather than drifting to slumber her thoughts would only ever wander to her visions.
They had been so real. She could smell shampoo her mother hadn’t used in over a decade. See what her father would have looked like, had he lived. Taste Kotone’s breath. Taste Mitsuru’s blood. Her scars itched.
She tried very hard not to think about the razor blade hidden in the second drawer of her desk, in the pocket of a notebook she never used. She tried not to pick at her scars, at her fingernails. She wished Mitsuru hadn’t been in the fucking lounge. Even an ice cube and some salt would go a long way right now. She felt so small, curled in on herself under her covers, holding back tears over nothing and fantasizing about hurting herself on a night where the team had been triumphant, had saved lives. The drawer was right over there.
She reached for her phone on the bedside table.
Yukari
3:11 AM – hey
3:11 AM – are you still awake
Kotone
3:12 AM – Yeah
3:15 AM – Are you okay?
Yukari
3:15 AM – i’m fine
Kotone
3:16 AM – Okay
3:16 AM – Can’t sleep?
Yukari
3:20 AM – i’m not fine
3:20 AM – can i come over?
3:20 AM – i don’t think i can be alone right now
3:20 AM – i’m really scared i’m gonna do something stupid
3:20 AM – please
Kotone
3:20 AM – ??? Of course. I’ll unlock the door. Don’t bother knocking.
Yukari didn’t bother knocking. She slipped inside as quietly as possible. Kotone was sitting upright on her bed, knees up by her chest, back against the wall. The only illumination in the room came from her phone screen, lighting her face from underneath. Her eyes glinted in the soft, blue glow, and her gaze was sharp, intent. “Hey,” she said quietly.
“Hey,” Yukari mumbled from where she remained rooted just inside the closed doorway. Now that she was here, she didn’t know what she was supposed to actually do. She was feeling more stupid every second.
“Do you want to come over here?” Kotone asked, in a tone that implied she genuinely didn’t know if Yukari would rather join her on the bed or stay standing across the room.
“Is that...would that be okay?” Yukari said uncertainly.
“Yeah. Of course. Come on.” Kotone patted the space on the bed next to her, leaving a sizable space between herself and where Yukari would hypothetically sit. “Or we can lie down. It’s late. I know you have a thing about touching, but I can-”
“It’s okay,” Yukari interrupted. She took a breath. “If it’s- I mean. It’s fine. I want to lie down. I’ll be okay.”
Kotone blinked but nodded, and began to position herself under the covers. Yukari shuffled over awkwardly and crawled in beside her, facing out into the room, taking the little spoon position. The dorm beds were full size and there was only one pillow, either of which might have been an issue if they weren’t in such direct, intimate contact.
They were both fully clothed, but Kotone’s body was warm, pressed against her back. This was the closest contact Yukari had had with anyone in years. Since her father died, and her mother began to distance herself physically. She wished she wasn’t so keenly aware of that. Ten years. Shit.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled into the darkness of the room.
“Why are you sorry?” came Kotone’s voice, barely above a whisper, just over her left ear, high enough that Yukari couldn’t feel her breath.
“I don’t know. I know I…” She knew what? That she was imposing? That her texts had probably frightened Kotone? That they were so obviously manipulative? That she was using her? She did know all of these things. She didn’t know how to say them so directly.
“Is this about what you saw tonight? In the dream?”
The dream. Ha. That’s right. It showed them all things that they wanted. “Yes. Partly.”
“That’s why I couldn’t sleep either.”
Yukari hadn’t asked in the hotel. She knew it was probably a bad idea to ask now. She knew Kotone would get mad at her, would probably kick her out. But she asked anyway, because right now she was weaker than she’d let herself be in front of another person in years. “Do you want to talk about what you saw?”
“No,” came Kotone’s voice, after a small pause. She didn’t sound angry. A longer pause. “I saw a few things.”
Yukari said nothing. She waited. She knew that if she even breathed too loud that Kotone would remember that she didn’t like to talk about herself and clam up, and then Yukari would have to talk or think or do something else she didn’t want to do.
“I saw...a friend, from far away, living here. I saw our group, together, after this ends. I saw this being over. There are people I know going through things I can’t help them with. They were happy, in my dream. I was happy.”
Yukari burst into tears. She tried to contain it. She didn’t want to be loud, and she didn’t want to shake the bed. “What’s wrong?” Kotone asked, a note of panic in her voice. “Yukari, hey-”
“I’m so fucked up,” Yukari gasped quietly through her sobs. She had curled up, as away from Kotone’s form as possible without leaving the bed.
“What?” Kotone didn’t understand. How could she understand? She didn’t know Yukari.
“You’re so- you’re such a- such a good person.” she whispered. “Kotone.” Yukari turned around so she could look Kotone in the eyes. “In my visions my mom loved me and my dad was alive.” she took a shuddering breath. “And I killed people, Kotone. I choked someone to death. I drank her blood. I tried to eat my own body. What the fuck is that?”
Kotone was looking at her peculiarly. “I don’t-”
“Shut up,” Yukari wouldn’t let her talk her down from this. Yukari didn’t deserve that grace. “It was so real. It felt good. I can still- I’m disgusting.”
“Hey.” Kotone spoke forcefully, at full volume, and in the quiet of the pre-dawn dorm it sounded like thunder. “Do you want to kill anyone? Even the person from your vision?”
Yukari thought about this. Did she want to kill Mitsuru? Not consciously. Mitsuru wasn’t complicit in the death of her father. She might be complicit in covering it up, but Yukari didn’t know for sure, yet. She wanted justice for the people who had died. She wanted revenge for her father. She wasn’t precisely sure who that needed to be exacted upon yet, and she wasn’t precisely sure what it would look like. Killing wasn’t off the table. After what she’d seen and done the last few months, and the power she had now, she could do it, she was pretty sure. What she finally said was “No.”
“Alright. Then call it an exploitation of a base desire. Okay?” She put her hand on Yukari’s shoulder, made sure Yukari was looking her in the eye. “You’re a good person too, Yukari.”
“You don’t know me,” Yukari whispered.
“Better than I did in April,” Kotone replied softly.
A ridiculous statement. Barely more than a lie. But she was saying it to comfort Yukari. She felt a flare of- of something. Anger, at being pitied. Joy, at being cared for. Lust, and fear, at the intensity of this physical contact, the intensity of Kotone’s demeanor. Her eyes, almost red in the darkness.
“Can I kiss you?” she asked.
Kotone didn’t break their gaze, didn’t act surprised or offended or even flustered. She only whispered, “Yes,” and Yukari closed the short distance between their noses.
It was gentle, tentative. Kotone was letting Yukari take the lead, and Yukari explored hesitantly, her lips softly interlocking with Kotone’s. They were rough the way Yukari had imagined them, but they moved with hers, and whenever she briefly pulled away Kotone’s breath was hot on her face. Kotone removed her arm from Yukari’s shoulder and looped it around her waist, and when Yukari shuddered involuntarily at the contact Kotone smiled into their kiss.
Yukari reached up and cupped Kotone’s face with her hand, fingers spindling back, running across her jawbone, over her ear, through her hair. Kotone moaned quietly, a rough, low sound, and this inspired Yukari to try pulling, which yielded more a more enthusiastic response. When Kotone let her head roll back to follow her hair, Yukari kissed her way down her jaw and to her exposed neck, and she tasted blood, and she saw Mitsuru’s eyes, glass beads looking at nothing, and felt a petunia stem tugging in her gut, and her breath hitched, and she pulled away from Kotone, from her warmth, and she struggled to keep her breathing under control as she wrapped her arms around herself.
“Hey,” Kotone breathed, nearby, but not trying to touch her, to comfort her physically. A small and quiet part of Yukari wondered why she was so good at this. “Hey. I’m right here. You’re okay. You’re in my room. You’re breathing. Breathe. Can you count your breaths?”
Yukari’s eyes were screwed tightly shut. She was trying. It was difficult. She couldn’t get it quite under control to the degree she needed. In for three. Hold. Count to three. Out for three. She couldn’t keep them steady, though. Still riding it out.
“Do you want to do a grounding exercise?” Kotone’s voice came from beside her.
“Stop helping,” she gasped. She couldn’t believe this was the second time she was doing this in front of Kotone in a single night. Slowly, she returned to herself. Head buried in her arms crossed over her knees. She choked out a “Sorry.” And she meant it. She felt like an asshole.
Kotone smiled wanly. “Please stop apologizing for panicking in front of me.”
Yukari nodded. She was too exhausted to argue. “I shouldn’t have kissed your neck. It made me think of the vision. I can taste it.”
“Oh. Yeah. That’s fucked up.”
“Yeah.”
Nothing more to say. They silently got back into bed, resuming their initial spooning position. The panic attack had been an effective mood killer. Maybe now she’d be tired enough to sleep, at least. She glanced at the digital clock at the bedside. Nearly 5 AM. Fuck.
“Yukari?”
“Hmm?”
“What were you so afraid you would do tonight? When you texted me?”
“Oh.”
“You don’t have to talk about it.”
“It’s okay. I...I don’t know if I’m ready to talk about it. But I want you to know.”
She shimmied her sweatpants down to her knees. In the darkness, her hand found Kotone’s, and she guided it to her upper thigh. She ran Kotone’s fingers over the skin, letting her feel the raised bumps of the lines, horizontal and vertical. Eventually she released her grip, but Kotone’s hand stayed, exploring gingerly, slowly. “I see,” she said eventually. “...are any of these recent?”
“...Yes,” Yukari breathed.
“I see,” Kotone said again. She withdrew her hand, and then, after a pause, said “Thanks for showing me. For trusting me.”
“I don’t know if I can be the person I want to be,” Yukari said. “But sometimes you make me see her.”
“I’m glad,” Kotone whispered.
Yukari pulled the blanket up to her chin. She was sleepy now. “I think we probably shouldn’t kiss again. I don’t think I can handle it.”
Kotone spoke softly into her ear. “I understand. And that’s okay. But I can do this for you. If you ever need it again.”
“Thanks,” Yukari mumbled, drifting off. “‘M sorry. Using you.”
“You don’t need to apologize,” came Kotone’s reply. “Needing people’s help isn’t the same as using them.”
But Yukari didn’t hear her. She was finally asleep.