[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/h5xf31C.png[/img][/center][hr][i][b]//Night 1 | Location:[/b] Nameless Forest - Lakeside[/i] [sub][@Yankee][@Nakushita][/sub] [b]“You have what?!”[/b] It was Maki who blurted that out, her face flushed red with either embarrassment or fury as Asahi revealed just how deep everything went with his power, the price that was paid for a supernatural recovery. It was all sorts of fucked up in that moment, to find out after the fact that her most intimate secrets were plucked out of her head just like that. But she didn’t chase after him either, not when Daisuke looked like he really needed some form of support himself. The Awakened students were splintering, that much was true. Rin was never going to involve herself with these sorts of group dynamics problems, while Shun had disappeared off into the woods. Asahi revealed himself to be some sort of mental voyeur at the last moment, while Ayana was completely batshit. Even her step-sister, who had been willing to go out swinging for the blue-haired girl, looked more and more apprehensive now, and as a result, so did the others who had gone up in Ayana’s defense. [b]“It’s…just a lot to process.”[/b] Not to mention they weren’t exactly of the same blood either. The fashionista clenched her fists. Did she have it in her to [i]believe[/i] such words? Did she trust this ‘Oros’, who claimed to be an Ayana she had never met before? The words caught in her throat and she choked them down, taking a step back. Then another. It was too sudden a transformation. It looked as if there was [i]nothing[/i] that she recognized, as if she were looking at a parody, a caricature. [b]“I don’t know.” [/b] Ayane looked down at the ground, ashamed. And, in the void that her presence, her tacit rejection left, another stepped in to fill it. Perhaps in the class, only [i]he[/i] would take her invitation. Only he would care little for who someone was, who someone is. Only he had that pure drive to know. Shark-teeth flashing in the moonlight, wide pupils glinting in the firelight, Hiroshi stretched out his arms and took Ayana’s hands in his own. They were cold to the touch, callused on the tips. [b]“I accept. Now, do me the favour, Oros. Tell me what you believe the Truth to be, and we can spend the first watch that way.”[/b] … Words. That was all it was. Just a handful of words. Kogen could endure. He could endure everything. He could endure pain and humiliation, knowing that so long as he lived, he could avenge himself. He could nurse his grudges in quiet, could hold his hatred deep. It was like sealing a demon. It hurt, but it was [i]good[/i]. Because a wise hawk hid its talons until the time was right. Because no one took notice of a fool until it was too late. Because he was divine, bearing judgement but beyond emotion. So what was he doing now, so publicly? He was enacting his r- [i]"God fucking damn it Ko-kun! Come out of that thing and listen!"[/i] Masato’s head bled, the flesh sliced open by the edges of the demonic helmet. Kogen felt nothing, not even the pulsation of the built-up blood, the tremoring and spasming of a body, the others now, trying their best to pull him off. Daisuke. Fujita. Maki. Sasuke. Tsubaki. What the fuck was this? Why did they care so much? It was Akito! They all had the [i]right[/i] to hate Akito! That fucking sniveling gopher for those upperclassmen. That fucking fraud, holding himself as a top dog when he didn’t even rank in the top 10. That traitor, that rat! Ah. That was it. Rats with rats. Traitors with traitors. [b]“You.”[/b] His voice sounded too weak. He grit his teeth. Tried again. There it was. A steely tone, possessed with a wholly neutral flatness. [b]“Masato. Who matters more? Me or him?”[/b] [i]“You.”[/i] was the response he got in return. Stillness. Words. Just words. Yet he couldn’t unhear them. He couldn’t be deaf to them. He couldn’t ignore them. He couldn’t forget them. He couldn’t. His body could heal, but his mind remembers. Remembered betrayal, that black stake driven into his guts. Remembered isolation, the gouging of his organs out his back like meaty wings. And the fury, that latent inferno, seized him then! [b]“If you cared, then why did you leave…”[/b] A normal student, no matter how much they trained, could not hope to compete with a [i]demon[/i]. He hurled them aside with impunity, then slammed Akito down into the ground. Half-conscious, the delinquent boy coughed, heaving for air even as he found himself unable to breathe for an entirely different reason. He raised his bleary eyes up and saw… [b]“…WITH HIM?!”[/b] …Kogen’s boot, stomping down. A crater in the earth. But no splatter of bone and blood. The demon looked up, a glowing light peeking out from its visor. It seared into Masato’s vision, the malformed rage of the boy whom he had wronged, twisted into a shell that could never be removed. [b]“What good are your words, if you never follow through?”[/b] And with that, Kogen left, disappearing into the woods. [hr] [sub][@Vertigo][@baraquiel][/sub] Gray eyes, ringed with exhaustion, stared back at him. Their corners were red, rubbed raw, but by now, she had ran out of tears. Duncan wasn’t particularly sensitive, but he could feel that emptiness be directed towards him, even as he avoided her gaze. And when he looked up once more, when he found what he truly wanted to say, he saw Yukiko there still, placing a small hand on Yuki’s forehead. Smoothing out his hair just a bit. Feeling the cool flesh. Running a finger along the yellow hairband he wore. There was a tenderness, a sorrow, a [i]reverence[/i]. Her lips parted, words bubbling up. Soft-spoken as ever. Perhaps the first time, even that Duncan had spoken with her. [b]“I watched every video too.”[/b] In that small town out in the middle of nowhere. A girl smothered by another’s fame. A boy struggling against obscurity and mundanity. Asahi entered. Yukiko retreated, settling back. Three was a crowd. It was no longer a space for sharing such emotions. Only an understanding of what must be done. What she must do. She spoke to Asahi, but her gaze was set on Duncan. Exhausted. Hollow. But not dead. [b]“Hiroshi told me he wouldn’t last more than a day.”[/b] Because even if they could heal his flesh, they could not make him eat or drink, could not understand what’s wrong with his brain. [b]“But…at the very least, I don’t think he’d want that burden on us.”[/b] The burden of killing another human. [b]“How can I help, Asahi?”[/b] [hr][i][b]//Day 2 | Location:[/b] Nameless Forest - Lakeside[/i] [sub][@Yankee][@Nakushita][@Vertigo][@baraquiel][/sub] [hider=The End of the Line] It had been an eternity. Diving deep into the quagmire, that trench so deep even shadows did not reach. It had been a wire at first, but he had plunged deeper still, shaving it away to pierce further and further, beneath those blanketing layers. Wire. Thread. Spider silk. Reaching for a sign of life, for a sign of mind. The pressure crushed his mind, drowning out thoughts, suffocating him in response. But there was no light at the end, nothing to fuel the hope that he was getting anywhere. He could give up. He was spending too much. Dimly, he could feel his true body still, burning away the scant fuel in the forge as he reached further and further down. But he did not give up. Distantly, he could feel the others with him. They could pull him up, if he could no longer surface. They did not look at him as a monster, even though they did not know the full truth either. It was fine. He delved deeper. Deeper. Deeper. Until he reached a… [i]Disorientation. Pain. Your voice, yowling in agony half real and half just for the reaction. A tall youth, his hair showing the dark roots of a poor dye job, winced as he approached. Offered a hand to pull you up. Winter in Kuroshio, white all around, as if someone had sliced the landscape away until all that remained was the snowfield. Your breath went up in puffs as you shouted at the other one further off, one hand holding up a phone, the other hand a cigarette. Freakishly tall as well. A real pair of basketball legends, with the whole night-and-day contrast going on. You’re stuck in-between, just an average person now, but you’re happy despite it. They’re out here with you, after all. You’ve always wanted to have a team working on your videos, even if they were just feeling generous with Christmas spirit, with the uncommon weather. You reach out to touch the falling flakes, wondering if it would last. But it would not. It was an inch thick and your footsteps alone revealed the black dirt beneath. It stopped you for a moment, seized you by the throat. The crushing crystallization of the thought that this present wouldn’t last, that it would slip by no matter how much you hold onto it. So what? You turn towards the skies, hold out your hands, and say to your friends, [b]“Hey, after we graduate, lets go to Hokkaido! See some real snow, know what I mean?”[/b][/i] …the core. A bubble of a memory, the last vestiges. Melting away like that rare snow day, two years ago. [/hider] Morning broke upon the Lakeside, the fog evaporating in the sunlight. Yuki had passed away. [hr] [sub][@AThousandCurses][/sub] The chirping of distant birds roused Shun from her fitful rest. She rolled her shoulders, felt the aching of an unorthodox sleeping posture. It had been a result of the shelter she had found the night before, a tree hollow that hid her well enough away from the outside world. Perhaps it would serve as a permanent shelter, if only there were so many grubby insects and worms inside it as well. They lacked the strength to pierce her flesh, but it had taken some time before she could ignore them and drift off into a fitful rest. She was hungry and thirsty too. Her head was light, a bit too light, and her core, she sensed, was running close to empty. She could eat a horse whole at this point. Live, if she had to. Her bearings were lost. There was no going back to the lake. The foliage, the unrecognizable vegetation, surrounded her in all directions. The mountain, ever-skypiercing, was the only landmark that she could use to navigate. But she was free. She was responsible only for herself. No Oros, no Kogen, no Asahi, no Masato, no Duncan, no Rin, no expectations, no demands, no others to watch out for or worry about. She could just be herself, could make every decision for just herself! Oh, what a beautiful morning!