1-800-AREYOUSLAPPING

It was worse than she initially thought. Her right leg, bent so much that bone was ejected from skin, the pain excruciating. What was worse than the injury itself was the fact that she hadn't expected the bastard to have so much force

when he took a swing at her when he was practically half-dead, choking and gurgling on his own blood from the large shard of glass she shoved in his throat.

On the flip side, she learned something new from this at least. Never underestimate a dying man… Well, at least when said dying man wielded a bush hammer, one that he could easily swing at the kneecap of a maltreated captive.

"Aha… Not like… it'll do much for me now… Stupid."

Despite the pain, so great that she couldn't help the tears spilling out of her eyes and down her ashen, scaped-up cheeks, she wheezed out a laugh, head thumping against the floor.

God, she was such an idiot. A fucking fool. If she had been more careful, more aware her actions had consequences or even just taken a few precautions as Nikolai told her to, she and Narumi wouldn't have found themselves in this horrid situation—this fire least of all with giant, roaring flames practically consuming everything in sight, the crackling fire clear as day even with her horrible eyesight.

With great effort, she turned her body over to the side, teeth gritted to stop any cries from rising in her throat as every muscle seemed to ache, orange and red dancing in every corner of her vision. The heat from the flames drew closer and closer, soaring in temperature with every passing second. And then a pillar, weakened by the fire, gave and toppled, resounding in a thunderous crash that made her heart sink to the pits of her stomach.

Because the pillar was blocking the stairs that led down to the ground floor, flames devouring the wood and carpet hungrily.

She laughed.

She was so screwed. Kai had broken her down in every way possible, and while she had resisted, the current state of her body, barely able to crawl, killed pretty much any chance she had to escape with the stairway blocked. The smoke did not help matters and Narumi…

Her eyes bulged wide in realization. 𝘕𝘢𝘳𝘶𝘮𝘪…! 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦—

She searched frantically, with a renewed spike of energy somehow, and when she spotted familiar red hair on a nearby body laying face-down, she crawled as fast as she could. She ignored the throbbing pain, the bodies she passed as she made her way over to the redhead, to Narumi. She was quick to turn her over, seeing delicate features marked by ash. Beyond a bit of bleeding from the head—from when Narumi was thrown out of her grip, she guessed—Narumi seemed fine, just unconscious. As though she was having a peaceful sleep.

Lucky Naruuchi, leaving me awake to witness our deaths in fiery matrimony.

A choked giggle escaped out of her throat despite the severity of the situation, of their upcoming, painful demise. She was a dead woman walking at this point. Her leg was busted, preventing her from being able to carry Narumi out like she had been doing before they were intercepted by Kai's boys. The ones that had broken Narumi's legs—as ordered by Kai—so badly that Narumi had been doing nothing but crying and sniffling, holding onto her like a sad, broken puppy.

"Ah. It's…" Her lower lip quivered, stroking Narumi's cheek. It was so unfair the redhead looked so peaceful. "It's all my fault, isn't it?"

.̵̲̄.̵̛͙.̶̞̒𝘐̵͝ͅ𝘥̸̒ͅ𝘪̸͈̐ỏ̶̳𝘵̷̨͊. 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙡𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙮 𝘒𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘈𝘯𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘳.

Yes, she did. Really, there was no need to ask such a question. Because she knew the answer already. It was her fault. All her fault. Everything. If she had just been careful—

She shook her head. Self-loathing and pitying herself would help no one. Not in this situation where she had no time to be listening to lingering, overlapping voices. Not when Narumi needed her just for a little while longer. Because Narumi deserved so much more, and especially not to be used as cruel payback for rejecting some crazed bastard with every fiber of her being.

Maybe… Maybe if she threw Narumi out a window, then Narumi would have a chance. It'd be a second-story drop, but there was a chance of survival rather than staying in this hellhole to burn at least. Burning was the fate 𝘴𝘩𝘦 deserved, not Narumi.

𝘙̷̬͎͠𝘰̶͖̙͊𝘵̸̢̪̋̏̐̚𝘵̴̹̳͝𝘦̵̩͌̏ṅ̶̛͇ͅ ̶̥̠͉̍̃́͜͝ṱ̷̙̹̽̆͝𝘰̶̬͇̟͐̋̐̾ ̷͎̥͚̑͊𝘵̵̤̀̚𝘩̴͙̰͗̚ę̶̢̘͉̈̐̍̽ ̶̰͕̱̭̆̽ĉ̶̲͖̰̓𝘰̴̗̻̝̔͐͆̚𝘳̸̳͑𝘦̵͔̳̭̿̾̕.̶͈̝̤̣̃̈́ ̵͖̔͐𝘛̸̲̞͔̽̈̀̔𝘩̶̝̏̋͐ȋ̷̡͚̬̈́𝘴̴̙̰̲͐̆̉ ̵̟̠̜͕͘ỉ̷̠̘͊̈́͠𝘴̵̨͉̈́̈́̾͘ ̶̳̼̔ẅ̵̳̫͍̽͆̈́ḥ̶̛̳̆𝘢̷̠͆ṯ̸̘̔̅ ̵̛͎͚̼̤͊̒̊𝘺̷͉̯̾ọ̷̝̘͍̎̔̊𝘶̸̢͙͕͐͊͊̈́ ̴̳͖̼͆͗͝ḑ̸͙͚͋͋̍ê̴͕𝘴̷̞͆̽𝘦̸̦̔͘͝𝘳̴̭̦͓̊̍̐̄𝘷̵͎͕͕̓͆̄͝ͅ𝘦̸̹̒̊.̴̟̥̗̈́̈̓̈́

Moving Narumi was so much worse than she thought i'd be. She had to drag her along the floor, to the closest window she could see, but it was slow and her body, especially her leg pulsated with painful throbs, begging her to stop. Every second felt like an eternity, the heat feeling more scorching. It was even getting harder to breathe, to even stay awake—as the smoke was certainly on its way suffocating her. In fact, the way her lungs constricted, folding under the smoke reminded her of the time she had suffered from a lung collapse. It had been so painful, and she thought she'd die at the time.

She powered through it all, pushing everything aside. Narumi would have a chance to escape, she thought as she finally made it to the window.

It was the least she could give Narumi, she thought as she opened the window, peeking out and seeing all sorts of blue and red lights.

Good, she thought as she hoisted Narumi up over the edge. They could give Narumi medical support immediately.

One last look. Again, Narumi looked like she was just sleeping, blissfully unaware of the surroundings. "...Please," she said softly, trying to avoid going into a coughing fit. "Please live, Narumi."

Then she shoved Narumi out, falling to the floor all the while as she was well past her limit. Her lungs burned as though they were on fire rather than the building. Her body felt so heavy, too, and her vision was blurring so much that she couldn't make anything out, not even if she tried.

…It was fine, she guessed. It was 𝘦𝘹𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘭𝘺 as she deserved. Then again, maybe she deserved something more painful. Like a knife through the throat or something.

Against her own will, her eyelids fluttered, slowly beginning to slide shut. There was no going back now, not with the final nails being pounded into her blazing coffin.

With darkness quick to consume her as her eyes slid shut, she sucked in one final breath.

———

And then. And then Lexa Kiddo opened her eyes, blinking rapidly.

The first thing she saw was a painfully bright light, and she was quick to bring up her hand to shield her eyes in a manner that she always did when it was a sunny day—to avoid any migraines brought on by the sun with how sensitive her eyes were to light. It was too bright to make anything out, no matter how she squinted, but she did notice how cold it was with a brisk chill nipping at her. Although there was somehow a tingly warmth as well, filtering down on her as the sounds of chatter suddenly began to sound, indistinct.

"C'mon, Doi-chan!" a voice, a girl's voice she realized, stuck out, urging, and she felt something grip her arm, tugging her into some direction. "We got gym next, and we better hurry if we wanna make it on time!"

...𝘋𝘰𝘪-𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯? 𝘎𝘺𝘮? 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵—

Lexa Kiddo realized something was wrong. Very wrong. Impossibly so. Because she should still be a burning building, not… wherever this exactly was.

Features scrunching, she tried to pull her arm free, but the… girl? The girl had such a vice grip on her arm that she couldn't do much beyond following, going towards the blinding light that soon became less blinding as she heard the unmistakable sounds of a door opening. Again, she was pulled into a direction, but within a few seconds, she was promptly released, left to her own devices seemingly as the chatter became distinctive, evolving into feminine voices.

Every single voice spoke Japanese. It was very standard too like she was used to hearing after years of traveling to Tokyo with a few other dialects thrown in there, but she was expecting to mostly hear Hama-kotoba*, not standard since she was on a scenic route on Hakodate.

As her vision adjusted, she was met with a sight she hadn't seen since her high school days. A locker room, filled with girls that were certainly on their way to becoming young adults, some changing out of clothes that consisted… of pleated skirts and blouses?

She blinked, baffled by the sight, and upon closer inspection, she was left with even more confusion, realizing the clothes were school uniforms—and not just any school uniform but 𝘦𝘹𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘭𝘺 the type of uniform she'd see in most Japanese media. Sailor fuku, very traditional, with the white blouse accentuated by a green sailor-like collar and paired with a pleated skirt that was the same color as the collar. However, the most confusing thing about the uniform was that she felt as though she had seen them from somewhere… even though she swore she hadn't because nearly all schools in Tokyo had moved to a more Western-style uniform of blazers and plaid skirts for its high school students, and the girls around her seemed to be high school-aged.

Another odd thing is that Lexa caught sight of a small badge attached to the blouse, a school crest seemingly, depicting a three-legged crow.

𝘐𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵… 𝘠𝘢𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘶*?

"Doi-chan!" the same voice said but she ignored it in favor of looking around, despite an almost instinctual need to respond. She felt out of place, so far out of her element, and it was as though her body wasn't truly hers for whatever reason. Plus, Doi wasn't her name, although she decided to assume these people here believed it to be, and in that case, something was very, 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 wrong. But trying to tell people that her name was Lexa—or Ran if she wanted to go legal—Kiddo was the very least of her problems.

She went past several girls, some giving weird looks and a few murmurs, but then she came across a mirror, catching sight of it out of the corner of her eye. She was rooted in place instantly at what stared back at her in the mirror, body freezing in rigid motion as a chill crept down her spine.

No longer was Lexa Kiddo the broken woman she had been at the hands of Kai, of his goons, 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦, covered in cuts and bruises and grime. Instead, her reflection showed the doll-like face of her teen years, clean and prime and somehow more lovely.

...𝘌𝘩?

Vain as it may be, Lexa was well-aware she was rather appealing in the looks department by friends and strangers alike, whether she was in Japan or the United States, but this? This face? Had to be something not of this world, ethereal almost like straight out of a fairytale. However, as Lexa blinked, so did the face, staring back at Lexa with a bewildered expression. It meant that the face was undoubtedly hers even though somehow the face felt so alien that it may as well have belonged to a stranger. An extremely pretty stranger who didn't need makeup to look good—like the girls who were the heroines in romance novels. Not like Lexa, who did need some makeup to truly look even half as pretty as this face was. Idol-worthy and then some, Lexa felt.

But as Lexa slowly overcame the shock, she noticed the differences aside from attractiveness. Her hair was far longer than a length she'd allow, about to her hips and neater and straighter, too, with the color black, shining like the feathers of a raven rather than the simple dark brown knew it to be. In between bangs were sharp eyes whose irises were… unnatural. She could see that they were white, but the light—at the slightest movement with the light of the locker room shining down on her eyes, several colors shimmered like tiny glittery fragments that seemed to shift around, never staying in the same place. It was like she had white-colored opals for irises and so very clearly not the pale icy blue that was caused by ocular albinism, the reason for her light sensitivity.

Still, as strange as it felt with her having opaline eyes and black hair with a blue-purple sheen like that of ravens, she knew this to be her face, if not way, 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘺 prettier. She raised a hand, taking hold of her cheek that was very lightly flushed with color as she squeezed, pinching herself, feeling the pain. She still had doubts though, because maybe, just maybe this was a strange dream that could stimulate pain.

No, wait. People weren't supposed to have dreams like this, not when they were…

…Well, was she dead? It didn't seem so. She felt pain. She felt temperature. She didn't have burns nor bruises or any blemishes from what she could see in the mirror, actually, and nothing hurt beyond the pinch she gave herself. In fact, this seemed as real as… real life and not the kind of dreams where she was able to have stimuli.

She was pulled out of her thoughts when someone grabbed her wrist, gently tugging and speaking, but her body moved on its own, snatching her arm away. A few more murmurs, louder now that she seemingly made a scene, but she didn't hear what was said, didn't even look at the girl that grabbed her, only focusing on the uneasiness and disgust that surged through her when she felt cold fingers clamp around her wrist.

Just why, oh why did people think they had the right to touch her? Even after death or whatever the hell kind of ordeal she was forced into this time? God, people always did things against her will—

Intense pain shot through her chest. A pain that instantly brought to mind an X-ray of her shriveled, distorted lung after she had suffered from a collapsed lung when she was younger, cutting off almost all line of thought.

Suddenly, she couldn't breathe so well, quickly reduced to gasps and pants as she pressed her hands against her chest. It hurt so bad, the savage loss of breath, the stabs of pain through her chest. So much so that she couldn't stand any longer, crumpling to the ground. All within a matter of seconds, her consciousness grew fainter, and she felt the heat of tears spilling from her eyes in incessant streams, vision blurred.

All the while the chatter turned into gasps and shouts, girls crowding around her—but she felt her head be gently moved, placed into something soft as a girl came into view above her. She stood out far above the rest with a classic beauty that would give plenty of supermodels and even Japanese idols a run for their money with long, dark hair and eyes that were a memorizing blue. However, she felt exceedingly familiar, too. Why was that so?

"Get the nurse!" the girl ordered, voice smooth and husky, and plenty of girls went stiff—from what she could see anyway—before the blue-eyed girl's features hardened, giving a firm yell, "Go! Hurry! If not the nurse, a teacher will do! She's having an attack!"

"Y-Yes, Busujima-san!"

The pitter-patter of footsteps sounded in Lexa Kiddo's ears, symbolizing someone was going to get her help, but she was far more concerned with what the girl was called.

The girl, who had set her head into her lap, allowing the use of her thighs as a pillow. The girl, who looked down at her and offered her a gentle smile, rubbing her back reassuringly. The girl, whose name came to the forefront of her mind—the very same name that marked the girl as a popular character from a series revolving around fanservice and a deadly pandemic that turned people into flesh-eating monsters dubbed as Them. The very same series she had just been reading a few weeks ago for old times' sake before everything went to shit.

"Keep calm, ok? Relax," Busujima Saeko murmured.

𝘈𝘸, 𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘥𝘦*. 𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘷𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦.