Yankee
Altered Tundra
Alisdragon911
stone
VitaVitaAR
Animal
LanaStorm
Ohm
Haha
ShovelWestern District
“Huh?” There was a glint of suspicion again, her dull brown eyes narrowing slightly. But guilt seemed to have won out in the end, and Kiwa ended up shrugging, her stand loosening up. “That’s Ahmya; we went to school together.”
Her eyes flickered towards Mana’s neck. It certainly felt like it would bruise later.
“And, uh, if I really do look like the girl you’re looking for…”
Her gaze swept to the side, her hands twisting the handles of her leather bag.
“I’ve been...stalked, sorta, like, recently, so…”
She let that hang.
It couldn’t really be the case, could it?
Her eyes flickered towards Mana’s neck. It certainly felt like it would bruise later.
“And, uh, if I really do look like the girl you’re looking for…”
Her gaze swept to the side, her hands twisting the handles of her leather bag.
“I’ve been...stalked, sorta, like, recently, so…”
She let that hang.
It couldn’t really be the case, could it?
Southern District
What, was she here for professional development now? Hitsu raised a brow at Tsurushi’s comment, but otherwise kept quiet, thinking it through carefully. An open mind was the most useful thing for a psychiatrist to have.
She counted her breaths. One, two, three.
“Some children, whether it be just their personal inclinations or family matters, reach their adolescence early than others. For girls especially, 5th grade is around the time where some hit puberty, while others don’t, and that can bring forth many changes.” Hitsu turned on her chair, her fingers click-clacking against the keyboard, before she shifted the monitor so that Tsurushi could get a look. “You’re a new teacher, but you’ve also gotten one of the more difficult grades to work with. There’s quite a few psychology articles on it, if you’d like to read further, but at this girl’s current stage of development, she will definitely be the type to respond better with positive reinforcement from someone she sees as an ally, rather than negative reinforcement from someone she sees as an enemy.”
Hitsu spun back to fully face Tsurushi. “Most likely, she also sees your efforts to control her outside of your place of authority, that being the classroom, as an invasion of her independence. Right now, she’s most likely at the stage in which she’s fle-”
Sirens sounded in the distance, quickly growing closer. The psychiatrist paused briefly, standing up off her chair before parting the blinds of the window slightly, to peer out.
Her expression changed, just for a moment, before smoothly transitioning into the neutral, yet warm expression of a competent, caring physician. Sitting back in the chair, she continued. “She’s most likely flexing her wings, per se, trying to test her limits, and biting back when others impose such limits. Though, of course, you’d also have to establish if going to that particular park is a place she goes to often.”
Her pen clicked. She scribbled something down.
“After all, familiarity breeds a sense of safety that outsiders don’t understand.”
“ARGHH!!
In the darkness, a ripping sound resounded, evocative of a primal, instinctual fear, and immediately, a hot, sticky wetness coated Miyane’s hands, her own calls drowned out by the agonizing cry that sounded so sharply through the live house. Other voices called out as well, people bringing out their phones to light up the place, bright beams sweeping around. A weight suddenly left off her, the form of the blond psychopath shifting off, her wrist being pulled away by someone else, someone less distinct against the darkness. They ran out together, one more surefooted than the other, and the heavy doors of the live house crashed up, two individuals dashing away.
Moments later, the emergency lights kicked in, amber light revealing the aftermath of the incident.
Blood gushed out from the gash in Yuudai’s throat, flowing freely, flowing thickly. His complexion was growing paler by the second, even as MiWa ran up, the emergency aid kit bouncing against her thigh. She thrust a bundle of cloth against the grevious injury, even though doubt reflected in her eyes. “Push against it,” the part-timer said, “Ambulance should be here soon.”
Beside Miyane, Daehyun laid there as well, teeth clenched tight as pained gasps escaped him, one hand clutching his right eye while his other arm simply twitched, deep purple splotches and incredible swelling originating from his elbow. His shoulders shook violently, as he did everything he could to hold back his own pain, and even as MiWa pulled open her kit, trying to figure out what she could do, there wasn’t anything that could be done.
Miyane could see it, after all.
Swinging loosely against his cheek was a thin, pink strand. That bitch had gouged his eye out. In the distance, sirens sounded bright and fierce, but it was a meaningless comfort. Too little, too late. It had been over the minute that blonde bitch entered Galaxy without anyone stopping her.
And as for Marc saw...
Yasuo’s hand was warm, sticky against her own. His grip was strong. It was his right hand, but in that moment, it didn’t matter. He was leading the way, through the main street, ignoring the looks they received from others. It wasn’t uncommon. There was an attack in the live house. Most others had ran when it first happened. If they hadn’t, perhaps concentrated effort would have been enough to take Marina down.
Instead though, she simply had a broken rib, maybe two, and a bloodied nose. Normal injuries for her. Normal injuries, if not for the rush of emotion, the rush of adrenaline, that threw her completely out of whack. Was she happy? Was she relieved? Was she traumatized? Was she lucid? Or had this become nothing but a dream?
It didn’t matter. She was here.
“One outta four,” Yasuo said, his own breathing steady, his own heart calm, “Gonna need a new face, Mari.”
She counted her breaths. One, two, three.
“Some children, whether it be just their personal inclinations or family matters, reach their adolescence early than others. For girls especially, 5th grade is around the time where some hit puberty, while others don’t, and that can bring forth many changes.” Hitsu turned on her chair, her fingers click-clacking against the keyboard, before she shifted the monitor so that Tsurushi could get a look. “You’re a new teacher, but you’ve also gotten one of the more difficult grades to work with. There’s quite a few psychology articles on it, if you’d like to read further, but at this girl’s current stage of development, she will definitely be the type to respond better with positive reinforcement from someone she sees as an ally, rather than negative reinforcement from someone she sees as an enemy.”
Hitsu spun back to fully face Tsurushi. “Most likely, she also sees your efforts to control her outside of your place of authority, that being the classroom, as an invasion of her independence. Right now, she’s most likely at the stage in which she’s fle-”
Sirens sounded in the distance, quickly growing closer. The psychiatrist paused briefly, standing up off her chair before parting the blinds of the window slightly, to peer out.
Her expression changed, just for a moment, before smoothly transitioning into the neutral, yet warm expression of a competent, caring physician. Sitting back in the chair, she continued. “She’s most likely flexing her wings, per se, trying to test her limits, and biting back when others impose such limits. Though, of course, you’d also have to establish if going to that particular park is a place she goes to often.”
Her pen clicked. She scribbled something down.
“After all, familiarity breeds a sense of safety that outsiders don’t understand.”
“ARGHH!!
In the darkness, a ripping sound resounded, evocative of a primal, instinctual fear, and immediately, a hot, sticky wetness coated Miyane’s hands, her own calls drowned out by the agonizing cry that sounded so sharply through the live house. Other voices called out as well, people bringing out their phones to light up the place, bright beams sweeping around. A weight suddenly left off her, the form of the blond psychopath shifting off, her wrist being pulled away by someone else, someone less distinct against the darkness. They ran out together, one more surefooted than the other, and the heavy doors of the live house crashed up, two individuals dashing away.
Moments later, the emergency lights kicked in, amber light revealing the aftermath of the incident.
Blood gushed out from the gash in Yuudai’s throat, flowing freely, flowing thickly. His complexion was growing paler by the second, even as MiWa ran up, the emergency aid kit bouncing against her thigh. She thrust a bundle of cloth against the grevious injury, even though doubt reflected in her eyes. “Push against it,” the part-timer said, “Ambulance should be here soon.”
Beside Miyane, Daehyun laid there as well, teeth clenched tight as pained gasps escaped him, one hand clutching his right eye while his other arm simply twitched, deep purple splotches and incredible swelling originating from his elbow. His shoulders shook violently, as he did everything he could to hold back his own pain, and even as MiWa pulled open her kit, trying to figure out what she could do, there wasn’t anything that could be done.
Miyane could see it, after all.
Swinging loosely against his cheek was a thin, pink strand. That bitch had gouged his eye out. In the distance, sirens sounded bright and fierce, but it was a meaningless comfort. Too little, too late. It had been over the minute that blonde bitch entered Galaxy without anyone stopping her.
And as for Marc saw...
Yasuo’s hand was warm, sticky against her own. His grip was strong. It was his right hand, but in that moment, it didn’t matter. He was leading the way, through the main street, ignoring the looks they received from others. It wasn’t uncommon. There was an attack in the live house. Most others had ran when it first happened. If they hadn’t, perhaps concentrated effort would have been enough to take Marina down.
Instead though, she simply had a broken rib, maybe two, and a bloodied nose. Normal injuries for her. Normal injuries, if not for the rush of emotion, the rush of adrenaline, that threw her completely out of whack. Was she happy? Was she relieved? Was she traumatized? Was she lucid? Or had this become nothing but a dream?
It didn’t matter. She was here.
“One outta four,” Yasuo said, his own breathing steady, his own heart calm, “Gonna need a new face, Mari.”
