FicWad

"All day
staring at the ceiling,
making friends with shadows on my wall.
All night
hearing voices tell me
that I should get some sleep,
because tomorrow might be good for something."
-Unwell, Matchbox 20-


Breakfast that morning had been fairly snippy. The walk to class wasn't working out much better. Mai sighed; the banter between the other two was almost enough to exhaust just about anyone, her own natural tolerance for the both of them aside. They were thankfully being quiet for the moment.
Mikoto's stomach growled completely out of the blue. "Hungry..." the black-haired girl pouted sadly to the sidewalk.
"You're just insatiable," Natsuki muttered.
As Mikoto bristled her arms shot down angrily. "Mai makes good food!"
Wonderful. Mai laughed nervously to try to break the tension. "It's nothing really. Natsuki wasn't insulting my cooking. Right, Natsuki?"
The distinct pause following only further worsened matters. Natsuki had to take a moment to think; it was too early to comprehend questions for her. She smiled then slightly, and replied, "Your food really is good."
Mikoto wasn't assuaged. She made to punch Natsuki in the arm, but fell short at seeing Mai's facial expression. The determined one of her own didn't falter, but at least she stopped her hand. The small group had paused there on their morning walk, Natsuki's arms up in a belated and unnecessary attempt to defend herself. Mikoto adjusted her jaw into a bit of a different position for a moment and then finally spoke in a low tone. "Natsuki should be more careful."
With that she pushed the canvas case she'd yet to get out of the habit of carrying around back up her shoulder and turned back down the walkway, dashing out of sight. The other two stood still for a moment after that. Mai realized that she was actually breathing pretty hard through her mouth, and closed it slowly. Natsuki looked to the ground and re-adjusted her own bag.
The dark-haired girl eventually looked up as Mai started to walk again; she fell into line herself, but their pace was obviously not light-hearted. It was as though something were weighting their shadows in the early morning light, like a dream they couldn't quite remember, and yet still remembered all too well. The only sounds for quite a while was their shoes on the pavement and the birds chirping on the breeze.
Eventually the main building on the horizon caught up to them. Other school kids were chattering away here, and it made the both of them unconsciously loosen up. Mai stopped and turned to face the other girl, and while she'd intended to say something, the words stayed trapped by her tongue and all she could manage was an apologetic look before Natsuki registered and then formulated a response to it instead.
Natsuki crisply pulled the hood over her head to keep the sudden burst of wind from chilling her, and stared directly at her; green eyes pierced Mai and the anger in them made her shiver. "It isn't your fault. Stop acting like everything is," she said gruffly and walked purposefully into the building, intent upon ignoring anything further, leaving the red-haired girl to shift restlessly in the courtyard area.
Mai very suddenly felt extremely alone.

*

"Be here in the morning, will she?" Saeko spat venomously to herself.
She plopped down into her desk chair roughly, or at least roughly in the opinion of her cracked ribs, and immediately regretted it as the pain reverberated into her skull where the glancing cut, nearly deep enough for stitches the first aide on hand had said, was being nursed by an icepack. Trying her best not to think for a moment, the woman pushed the pack back over to the left slightly to make it fully cover the bandaged area. She'd barely gotten the ring out of her ears when a short rapping came on the wooden office door. She was almost certain it wouldn't have sounded so sharp if it weren't for what had happened to her this morning. "Come in," she mumbled.
"I'm sorry, Kuga-sensei." The girl that peered around the door frame was mousy at best, and the glasses she wore made her eyes appear about two times larger than they should. Only half her face was visible anyway, so Saeko found it strangely appropriate. "I know that the infirmary just released you, but Smith-san wanted me to tell you that there's a meeting."
"Meeting?" Saeko growled.
"He said it's not optional..."
"I'm sure it isn't," was the petulant reply. She inhaled deeply, coughed a bit from the pain, then sighed. "Thank you, Hitsugi."
The door closed quietly. "Haven't heard of medical leave either, I see. Never mind that I've likely got several years worth stored up already," she groused on, pulling out some files and a notebook from her desk to slide into her bag, which was rapidly overfilling.
Saeko stood uncertainly, getting a slight dizzy spell. Not wanting to worsen it, she simply stood leaning with one hand against her desk for a moment. She rose her head after the initial wave passed, and was in the midst of chalking it up to the painkillers she'd been given, when she suddenly comprehended what she was seeing outside of her office window.
A glance at her wristwatch told her very plainly that it was just turning 1pm, but down below, a nest of reporters had ensconced itself across the street, still here since this morning. No doubt they were only held at bay by the small barricade that the local police force had set up, combined with menacing looks. As she watched, occasionally one of the reporters would flutter over to the barricade, either trying to question one of the officers, or doing their best to get shots of the scene; of course a gigantic hole in the side of one of the city's reputable pharmaceutical companies would cause enough interest for the six-o-clock news.
Vultures, was all that Saeko could think. Having First District's dogs around certainly had its advantages at the time, and this was only a small example where it truly would have been; while Searrs now had BRUTE, the team in First District that specialized in covering up all the messes from the Childs would be invaluable right now. Instead, it was like this, where their first big success had turned sour, and even exposed them to the public eye.
Secrecy had been the focus of this entire operation. Already it had failed. Cursing, Saeko walked out of her office, completely furious. No wonder there's a meeting.

*

"Kuga-sensei, you recognize this, don't you?"
The disembodied voices never did help her nerves. This meeting, like all others, was held in a conference room on the twenty-third floor of the building. Monitors would flip up from sections underneath the table when remote people needed to be contacted, as they were now. Three of them were up currently, though as was usual when speaking with their superiors, the screens were blanked out, with a screen saver up. The room itself was dark.
A projector then flipped out from the center of the table, and a screen unraveled itself against the far wall. Morbid anticipation assaulted Saeko's senses as she found her eyes glued to a surveillance camera's visual of what had occurred earlier; she felt her stomach twist briefly in protest.
/My beautiful Maserati/, she thought sullenly. It slid into the spot with obviously practiced ease. Then a portion of the wall exploded, for lack of a better term, just ahead of it. Debris traveling at the speed of an enraged Child hailed into the metal and windshield. She could even vaguely see the shape of herself trying to brace against the seat.
And then the giant spider-creature pounced and though there was no audio on this tape playing, Saeko could hear the remainder of them in her mind's ear. The sharp almost slicing sound of the steel legs extending, and then multiple large explosions; the members of BRUTE had pulled out one of the mobile netting arrangements and launched it, sending small explosive rounds to throw it off-balance further. Julia's massive weight slammed sideways into the ground to the left of the car, creating a furrow large enough that some might consider it for filling later as a pond.
The blood loss and pain was already making Saeko light-headed at this point, but she could remember the angered shrieking distinctly as Julia writhed around clumsily. BRUTE didn't have very much time until she figured out how to extract herself using the sharp edges of her legs, and acted accordingly. A small contingency of four of the officers advanced and, gas masks present, proceeded to steep the entire quarter of the building with fog-filled gas bombs.
It was there that Saeko remembered herself passing out.
"I'm sure that she understands. You do understand, don't you Miss Kuga?"
Saeko did her best to contain her annoyance; John Smith was actually saving her ass about now. Even so, the woman detested Smith's usage of "Miss," for one because it wasn't totally accurate; after all she'd been the one to marry /Mister Kuga/, so she was actually Missus. For two, he'd refused to stop calling her it after he'd come up with the "Princess" nickname in referring to her daughter towards the end of the Carnival. He thought it was rather clever to use English, but frankly it irritated her to no end. Unconsciously, she also knew that was the other reason he persisted in using it, too. But she never had learned when to listen to that internal voice of hers.
"It's true," she replied.
"So you see, gentleman, there's no reason for further concern at this point. Our base of operations will be moved, and Miss Kuga will be certain that no other mishaps are encountered. The subjects are still on hand and safely contained." He bowed at the screen fully and rumbled, "We sincerely apologize for the trouble."
The meeting adjourned seemingly of its own accord, no further words distinguishable, just the electronic beeping indicating that the communications were disconnected. They were not pleased.
Smith leaned himself against the desk with an abnormally large breath. Saeko was intrigued. He's... nervous? The woman frowned deeply now, and turned her attention to the dim reflection of herself on the conference table's surface. The lights had remained low, and it seemed that neither of them wanted to change that.
"Let's try to get it right this time, Miss Kuga," came the very dry-throated comment. Smith didn't look at her, and she didn't bother to look up. He walked past her and out the door, shutting it behind him, again, not bothering with the light switch.
The room's only sound after that was that of a fist slamming onto the table surface.

*

The tall woman moved like a whisper, listless and on the edge of perception, down the marble hallway. Her heels made no distinguishable noise across the sleek surface; it was as though a ghost of times long past moved through the passage, refusing to acknowledge its own presence, let alone its destination. The figure itself was pale, indeed her skin seeming to glow back at the soft lantern lights that guarded the hallway in two straight, vigilant rows.
Only the touch of bound leather provided comfort for her, and she kept it close to her body as she followed the path until it emptied out into a large enclave of a room. Shelves upon shelves of books stood here with a dark, understated malice, each one daring someone to read them from their posts in the shadows. The knowledge contained within any one of them held power over the reader, some more than others. It was now her duty to watch over the tomes, ensure that they harmed no other. But this night, such thoughts were far beyond her comprehension; this night had become very much like the past few weeks, unfathomably lonely and stricken with heartache.
Her figure paused at the edge of the railing that warded those silly enough to be at the second floor's edge that there was indeed a hefty drop. Green eyes scanned the surface below, carving each flowing curve of the clock resting there into her memory, as they had many times before. She willed it to move once again, but as usual it denied her, the cool metal hands paused in the midst of the thirteen places in a wicked grin, taunting her; the thinest hand was bent and thrown askew in a just over a ninety degree angle from the other two, that were poised on the topmost number. It had been that way for over a month, its anniversary just yesterday.
She smiled unconsciously, unfeeling. Imaginary spectres appeared suddenly and began to dance around the clock, but most of them faded just as quickly into the darkness, save one that continued to its own tune for a brief moment, then disappeared like its brethren. Her eyes traced the lone spectre's path repeatedly, though it no longer was there; this one was her hope, a flicker of a flame that provided a sense of security when nothing else could.
The metal of the railing was cold and jarring. It awakened the woman from her reverie almost immediately as she pressed her hand against it. She jumped back in surprise, and her eyes returned to their melancholy state, narrowed and pained. She swallowed at the hardness building in her throat, and then spoke to no one, despite her wish that everyone could hear it.
"Forgive me."

*

Mikoto didn't show up at lunchtime, nor did she return to the dorms directly after class. She'd even missed the dinner Mai had prepared, and frankly that was unheard of. For her part, Mai was now in a dilemma. "Natsuki, I'm really worried about her."
The dark-haired girl peered from over the top of one of her textbooks. "Then go look for her," she grumbled, returning her attention to the book.
"But I have to get ready for the karaoke session tonight," Mai replied, upset.
This earned a raised eyebrow from the other girl. "A karaoke party? And you didn't invite everyone?" The red-head fidgeted a moment, obviously trying to think up some excuse. "You didn't tell me about it."
"Ah, that's because you're always so against going!" Mai said, just a bit too delighted in her tone; she was excited that Natsuki had given her the very out she needed.
"I see," Natsuki seemed unconvinced, but was too exhausted mentally at that point to fight the issue. Discrete math, she was finding out quickly, was not her best subject and she wasn't a great studier to begin with.
Mai observed the other girl for another moment, then picked her way to look over her shoulder at the text. Natsuki's eye twitched slightly. She hated the sensation of having someone at her back and Mai knew this very well for even the short time they'd been in the same living quarters. The dark-haired girl bit her tongue; she knew she was only being baited. Mai's next comment only confirmed it. "Wow, that's last year's material, isn't it?" she questioned flimsily.
The older girl shut the book with a slam. "It is." She leveled a sharp glare on the red-head. "Look, Mai, why don't you just try calling Nao? That pet of yours probably just wanted to cool down for a bit." With someone who could sympathize with her.
Mai's eyes lit up at first, but then returned to their worried appearance; Natsuki had given her an idea of where Mikoto might be that she hadn't thought of before, but the truth was that Nao still did some dangerous things. She was faced with the idea that the other redhead might be teaching Mikoto some terrible habits, even as they spoke. "I'll call," Mai said shortly, not really trusting herself to say any more. Natsuki nodded silently, and a few short beeps later, Mai brought the ear piece up to her ear, but immediately frowned. "Went straight to voice mail," she said uncomfortably, placing the phone back into her uniform pocket distractedly.
"She's probably busy," the dark-haired girl grunted. She rubbed at her temple briefly, then pushed herself off the floor suddenly. "Fine. I'll go look for your pet. She can't go too far without transportation anyway. She's likely still near campus."
Mai breathed a small sigh of relief, one that was small enough that the other girl didn't notice it, she was pretty certain. "Thank you, Natsuki."
Natsuki paused distinctly right next to Mai as she finished thanking her. "But this time, when we catch her, you're going to need to get a leash."
The older girl was completely serious, but Mai couldn't help but to crack up laughing.