Wakizashi sprinted through the flames, straight towards the child she saw crying in front of the still form. She stopped in front of them, the little boy calling for help as he shook and pleaded the body of his mother to wake up. Checking the woman's pulse, she quickly found that she was still alive, just unconscious.
Not finding any critical injuries except a rather harsh knock on the temple, she put her hand on her forehead. Within seconds, the woman sat up with a gasp, looking around. After giving Wakizashi a strange look, she pulled her toddler in close and followed the vigilante out of the fire and into the streets.
She proceeded to return to the inferno after they were safe. She went around just like before, leading people out, checking pulses and waking unconscious people, leading them out and getting them to clear air. For a few moments, she thought maybe she was making a dent. However, the mystery of why Flower would set off a bomb was still at the back of her mind.
Then, something interrupted her. A howl – not human, but stranger than a wolf's. Confusion and worry struck her as she heard the rampaging thoughts entered her mind, and she quickly backtracked and headed for them. Not English, or Japanese, but Icelandic. People were running the opposite way, but she passed by those fleeing in the other direction, brave in the face of obvious danger.
Wakizashi saw it through the flames. A flash of blood and stark white fur. She stopped before the scene, looking around at the mess. It was like nothing she had ever seen before. People were lying on the ground, their throats torn out, guts splayed on the street, eyes staring up at the sky blankly.
Then she saw the cause of it all – a large wolf, fur white as snow that gleamed in the firelight. It wasn't facing her, but that changed when it sniffed the air and turned. She stepped back. Perhaps running for the danger was the wrong idea. She had never fought a wolf, much less one that was as big as a stag. It growled, making her stomach twist as it stalked towards her with a vicious snarl.
"Now, now, Vin," A voice piped up behind her. "Let's not be so quick to kill."
Wakizashi didn't dare turn her back to the wolf, seeing a female walk around her. She was wearing a black kimono and a white top, skin a dusky brown. Her face was hidden behind a leather visual kei mask, made of buckles and straps, but the pale blue eyes were recognisable along with the white hair. In her hand was a katana, but it looked strangely familiar. She stood next to the wolf as it shifted and shaped into a person – Vinhatri. Except his hair was completely white, and he was wearing the same sort of outfit.
"Wakizashi, isn't it?" Flower mused. "Or should I say, Yu-ri." She drew out the u sound.
She tensed, gritting her teeth and gripping her hands into fists. "So you know," She replied.
"Of course I do," She laughed. "Anyone who sees you in a ponytail knows. The backflip over my head didn't help, either."
Wakizashi watched as the two circled her like vultures. "What have you done?" She demanded. "Why?"
"Oh, you would love for me to answer, wouldn't you?" Flower chuckled. "But you can find out yourself, little psychic." She stopped, on Wakizashi's right. "Why don't you come see?"
Wakizashi stared at her. She could read the surface thoughts – enough to make her curious. Something about an experiment, and an unfamiliar little girl. Were they memories? She had to find out more, glancing at Vinhatri for a moment before she sprang. Wakizashi tackled Flower, tumbling them both to the ground, and she rolled until the laughing girl was underneath her. Then, she placed her fingers to Flower's temples, and did the deep dive into her memories.
It felt like forever, but really only took a few seconds. She saw everything – but only the important parts were what mattered to her. It was strange, since she could see herself in the memories, standing by as a viewer but invisible and unable to interact with anything. That was when it all made sense.
(¯`·.¸¸.·´¯`·.¸¸.-> 🖋 <-.¸¸.·´¯`·.¸¸.·´¯)
Yuriko found herself standing in the midst of what looked to be a desert. Weeds left and right, but not an animal in sight – except for the single cow in a pen too small to roam very much. It was next to a ramshackle house, alone in the sands, besides the military vehicle next to the worndown home. Everything seemed discoloured and drab, the places of unimportance being cancelled out by mist.
Then she heard the crying and screaming. "I don't wanna go!" They were saying in Yoruba, the voice of a young girl showcasing itself. Yuriko didn't know Yoruba, or what it sounded like, but she understood it all anyway. "Please, don't let them take me! I'll do anything! I'll cook, clean, anything!"
A little girl in a long dress was dragged out of the hut, held by a Japanese soldier. The girl couldn't have been more than eight, but she was the spitting image of a younger Flower – except for the hair, which was dark brown and coiled up in a braided bun. Screaming and shouting, she pleaded with a woman who followed behind calmly with a sad look on her face.
"Mama!" The girl was calling to her. "Mama, please, help me!"
"May I say my goodbyes?" The mother said in the same language.
The Japanese soldier watched as two others walked out of the home, a commander and another soldier. The commander waved dismissively, and the girl was released. She went running back to her mother, crying, her words intelligible and forgotten in the panic. The men gathered up some paper bills and coins, walking back as the woman spoke to the girl.
"Zizi," The mother said her name. "Promise to be a good girl for them, okay? We will see each other soon."
"Is this 'cause I did the thing?" She sniffled. "I split the boy by accident. I didn't mean to! I didn't know!"
"Goodbye, Zizi," She said sweetly. "I'll see you again. Promise."
The soldier took her arm again, and she was dragged kicking and screaming back to the truck. Practically thrown in the back, the doors were shut before she could escape. The commander held out the money, and had the woman sign a paper, all which Zizi watched through a window. Then, the mother nodded, smiling and watching as they drove away.
(¯`·.¸¸.·´¯`·.¸¸.-> 🖋 <-.¸¸.·´¯`·.¸¸.·´¯)
The scene shifted. Yuriko was standing in a small room that looked similar to a police interrogation chamber, but it had a table with shackles connected to the table. Zizi was chained to them, unable to move her wrists at all from how the manacles were placed. She was crying again, someone prodding her with a tattoo needle, writing with ink on her wrist. The digits resembled something simple.
P-1
(¯`·.¸¸.·´¯`·.¸¸.-> 🖋 <-.¸¸.·´¯`·.¸¸.·´¯)
Once more, it changed. Zizi was standing in a room, facing a window, her ankle chained to the wall. The persons on the other side of the window, faces contorted and black wisps of forgotten memories, pressed a button. She flinched as the wall slid open, and a cat was shoved in forcefully. Zizi calmed before smiling and reaching out, to which the cat hissed and swatted at her.
She yelped as the scratch formed, and she shot a hand out to push the cat away. A wave of invisible energy shifted in the room, and the cat yowled in pain. The feline collapsed, shifting and contorting, the orange stripes moulting as two cats then laid on the floor. One black, one white. The black one got up and walked towards Zizi, loving against her, while the other full on lunged and scratched her up.
(¯`·.¸¸.·´¯`·.¸¸.-> 🖋 <-.¸¸.·´¯`·.¸¸.·´¯)
Her screams shifted into the next scene, where she was silent in a little room with a single bed. Her braids were undone, and she seemed to be older. Maybe twelve or thirteen. She was sitting by herself, staring at the pillow, tears falling as she sniffled and wiped at her eyes and face. Then, she whispered to herself.
"Save me," She said. "If you're there, save me."
Her form shifted as she closed her eyes, shedding her skin as a new form appeared beside the bed. Flower, standing, watching the girl on the bed who had to be Petal. Shaking her awake, Petal almost screamed before Flower clamped a hand over her mouth. Putting a finger up, she hushed her with a smile and a wink. Both had the same tattoo on their wrists.
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Then they were running down the hall, and Yuriko was forced to join them so as to not get left behind in the growing fog. A bullet pierced Petal's arm, and she cried out, stumbling. It stained her white dress profusely, but Flower kept going. She had a gun of her own – how she got it wasn't important. Just the fact they burst through the door illuminated in lights and left the facility behind.
(¯`·.¸¸.·´¯`·.¸¸.-> 🖋 <-.¸¸.·´¯`·.¸¸.·´¯)
Then the two girls were outside of a shopping district, Flower the only one visible. Yuriko knew Petal was nearby, but she was hurt and needed help. Flower grabbed a few objects from a shelf – bandages, pliers, sewing kit – before she ran out. That was when Yuriko noticed someone following her, after slapping down a payment for the things she blatantly stole. He looked like a younger Matsuda.
Matsuda followed Flower and stopped outside the alleyway she disappeared in, looking in cautiously before around. When no one seemed to be watching, he entered it, startling the girls. Flower stood up and in front of Petal, holding out the gun. Matsuda examined it for a moment, then the bleeding girl, and smiled.
"You have the safety on," He said. Petal looked at the gun oddly, and he snatched it away. "This particular model has a hammer, not a safety." He unloaded the clip and tossed it to the ground. "You won't get anywhere with those supplies. You can follow me to my house where I have a medical kit, or stay here and bleed out." He turned around. "Your choice."
The girls looked at each other before standing up and following the man with a bit of distance between him and them.
(¯`·.¸¸.·´¯`·.¸¸.-> 🖋 <-.¸¸.·´¯`·.¸¸.·´¯)
Wakizashi came back to being kicked in the face by Vinhatri, rolling to the side as Flower stood back up. She herself stumbled to her feet, backing up a few paces and wiping the blood from her nose. Panting, it took her a moment to realise what all the visions from the deep dive meant, and both of them waited seemingly patiently while she pieced it together.
"I know now," Wakizashi said. "But why do this to innocent people?"
"Innocent?" Flower cackled, raising her arms up. "Nobody here is innocent! Not even your poor, defenceless grandfather." She pointed the sword at her.
Finally, she recognised it, seeing the red band around the handle. "Where did you get that?" She demanded.
"Oh, just a little souvenir," She mused, running her finger along the side of the blade. "From your grandfather's wall. You know, I expected more of a fight from him. So, are you going to stay here and save these little innocents or save someone that really matters to you?"
Wakizashi felt her heart hammering in her chest. She looked around, panicking, before she turned and ran towards the river again. She could feel his thoughts, off in the crowd, knowing exactly where he was. Exiting the torpedo of flames, she headed straight for Jayce. He was standing in a group, so she pulled her mask down and stopped in front of him. He saw her desperation, staring in confusion.
"Yuriko, what's-" He started.
"You got here on a motorcycle, right?" She panted, interrupting him.
"Yeah? How did you-" Jayce said, only to have her butt in again.
"I need to borrow it," Yuriko demanded.
"What?!" He exclaimed. "I'm not letting you drive my mom's motorcycle! Do you even have a licence?"
"Do you?" She retorted.
"Yes!" Jayce responded.
"Then drive me to the dojo," Yuriko replied.
"I-" He started, only to look into her eyes and realise the panic. "Okay, come on."
With that, he led her to the road that wasn't engulfed in flames. She kept pushing him to go faster, to which he promptly started running to the parked motorcycle in the distance. Once they reached it, he shuffled out a set of keys and started the bike after sitting on it. He handed her the helmet.
"Here, I only have one, so you wear it," Jayce said.
"I don't need it," Yuriko replied, climbing on the back.
"But-"
"Jayce, if I put on the helmet, will you fucking drive?" She hissed the curse in English.
He stared at her for a moment, then nodded. Yuriko snatched the full coverage helmet and plopped it on her head, wrapping her arms around his torso. He revved the engine, taking off at the speed limit at first before she yelled at him to go faster. With that, he sped into the night, weaving in and out of streets and back alleys as fast as he could.
It was when they passed a side street that she heard sirens sound from behind them, and turned to see a police car pull out and chase after them. Why they were not all focused on the raging inferno back at the river, she had no idea. Jayce glanced and started to slow down, but she screamed at him not to stop.
Thus ensued a speeding chase down the highway. Jayce was panicking in his mind, unsure if he was more afraid of Yuriko perhaps killing him if he stopped or the police arresting him if he didn't. She quickly replied that she would not kill him – she would simply make his life a living hell for the rest of eternity.
So with that, he continued, still not losing the police officers when he slipped off the highway and onto the road that led to her grandfather's dojo. Fear wrenched her gut as she saw the hill – still intact. The sirens got louder behind them. She urged Jayce everything would be fine, he just had to keep driving until they reached the dojo. Then, he could stop. When he pointed out they would arrest them, she simply responded with, "They can try."
Finally, they came up next to the hill. Yuriko jumped off the motorcycle before it even came to a stop, throwing off her helmet. She could see the police vehicle driving up, stopping behind them and exiting the car – she had to be quick. However, she felt an iron grip close around her arm, and she looked back to see Jayce holding onto her.
"Yuriko, what is going on?" He demanded.
"Another bomb is about to go off!" She screamed, ripping from his grasp.
His eyes widened with horror as she turned and started running up the hill as fast as she could, towards the tree that marked the entrance to her home – the dojo. She could feel her black hair becoming loose from the ponytail, flying wildly around her face. Her arms pumped at her sides, her breaths even and controlled despite the panic in her heart. She could hear Jayce drop the motorcycle, yelling at her to stop while at the same time struggling to tell the police what was about to happen. Even so, she didn't cease in her run, and yet…
The explosion blew her down the side of the hill multiple metres, rolling her head over feet dramatically. She stopped after a few moments, catching herself as she raised her head and whipped her hair back out of her face. The flames roared in a rage, shining back in her grey eyes. She panted for a moment, then stood back up, getting ready to run for the dojo once more.
The only thing that stopped her from doing so was Jayce, who had run after her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her up kicking and screaming for him to let go, her cries drowned out by the flames. He twisted her to face the other way and set her down, embers flying through them both as he set his hands on her shoulders and gazed into her shimmering eyes.
"Yuriko-" He tried to say.
"Let me go!" She yelled, hitting him in the chest with closed fists. "I have to save him! I have to-"
"Yuriko!" He called, speaking into her solid expression of panic. "It's too late!"
This seemed to stop her dead. She stared up at him, into his blue eyes. Her gaze trailed to look over his shoulder, to the burning tree, leaves falling and bark churning. She focused, trying to reach her grandfather, her jiichan, but found nothing. She let out a soft gasp, then spoke ever so quietly.
"No…" She fell to her knees. "No, no, no…" She covered her mouth, eyes watering. "No!" She cried out, hugging her stomach. "Nooo!"
It was a long, piercing scream, tears welling in her gaze and falling down her cheeks as she stared at the embers of her home. Jayce knelt down beside her, pulling her close into his chest while the two police officers came up behind them, calling in the incident. Yet she didn't pay attention to them. The pain, the agony, the tears – it was something she had never felt before. The numbness of her personality was gone, and all that remained was a horrible, seething torture.