[i]Without noticing, Yama-uchi let go a small sigh. She was staring absentmindedly through the window, past the gray lifeless courtyard of her college, to the lightly rustling leaves of trees that grew between the low buildings across the street. The dirt and dust on the outside of the glass, only partially washed away by spring showers, refracted some sunlight and made her feel blinded by the sun herself. With each inhale, the spicy dampness of spring air she expected to smell collided in her mind with the scent of ink and chalkboard. The latter would soon be greatly enhanced as the teacher flings the board eraser at her head - [/i]

Her hand twitched involuntarily. She turned her head with infinite slowness, and some grass poked at her cheeks as she looked at the appendage through the green blades. Her forearm and palm were almost entirely covered by a durable but flexible blue plastic sheet, that warped slowly as she tested the resolution of movement in her hand. She would do this in her past life, in a state of focused meditation she would sometimes reach when laying in grass just like this, feeling the tendons move under her skin. Surprisingly, she could feel the minute vibrations of hydraulic-assisted motion even now, despite having completely different sensors for touch.

It has been a while since Chizuru allowed herself to reminisce, and she had only now begun to realize how fast-paced her life had been in the last few years. Nobody could blame her, of course - it was literally a race for survival. But prolonged exposure to such a way of life may cause one to bury parts of their character in their subconscious, as a defense mechanism, to prevent their very existence from being ground down to that of a cog in the machine. She was aware of this, once, and would choose her schools and workplace by their proximity to gardens or forests. Only there, alone and away from bustling culture, may one truly be alone with oneself. To test abstract thought and to let the psyche dissect and digest the day's events.

[i]It was as if someone tied a stone to her heart and let it fall down a pit, Yama-uchi thought as she lay on her back on top of the grassy hill. She could see her school when she would turn her head all the way left - but today its view was completely dark and distorted, and it made the stone pull at the string around her heart. Some kind of supernatural evil has settled in that large gray building, threatening her even from this distance. In her memory's eye, her friends would wear frightening Oni masks, taunting her with dark magic. She knew it was stupid, but it wasn't enough to simply know this. Her heart simply refused to process this, similarly to dreams where you're afraid of something for no reason at all, but still can't help it. Should she call in sick tomorrow? Just because of some new student in her class who for some reason looked at her two seconds too long, and made her picture their life together?[/i]

You know, I was human once. Chizuru realized she hadn't actually said this out loud, despite hoping it would be stronger than her. She made a mental list of every artificial part in her body, and tried to will her biology to reject it, to make her limbs hurt, her heart flutter, or just give her an annoying itch at the seams that wouldn't go away. Nothing. NC technology was just too good. She was a suit within a suit within a suit, within a suit if you count the [i]Vitae[/i]. And her soul was at peace with this, despite the thrashing she would give it if she ever found it.

The cyborg raised her hand and laid it across her chest. It took her a few minutes, as it was the heaviest load she lifted in the last few days. This place made her weak. It made her lose her purpose. She could stay here forever, which means everyone on the ship would die, and be fine with it. In here, she could stop caring. Eden was as despicable as it was useful.

She forced herself into a standing position, shaked her legs a bit until they regained proper function, then stepped into her armor. It locked slowly into position as her CPU ran a diagnostic on each piece. She then tested her range of movement and counter-force of each joint, before turning to her escort.

"Alright boys, let's go back."