comatose kendoka

PATIENT NAME: Pekoyama Peko STATUS: Awake; pending recovery 「（`へ´）？＠kira（-д-+）（゜言゜）＞（○`Л´○） Tool？’youngmastertool：＠；＠youngmasteryoungmas」

[servilesword]

>>stars; peko+fukawa<<

[duftdesmeeres]

     The very existence of stars brought wishful thinking to humanity; a sort of ridiculous false-hope that sprouted faith in people despite the obvious truth that it was a myth. It was strange how wishing upon a star brought no real reward, and yet humans continued to do it, sending their dreams out towards tiny glowing lights in the vast emptiness of space. A bit depressing, really. Fukawa made a mental note to add that description to the short novel she had been working on in her free time.

     Despite the fact that she already knew how wishing upon a star was a total lie, the author found herself giving into the tale. It wasn’t like this was a new thing, she had always had a habit of trying to warp reality into her own ideal situation, sinking herself deep into daydreams and fantasies in an attempt to rid herself of frustrating truths. However, since finding out that the world had ended, she found her delusions didn’t work as well as they used to, and ended in nightmares more often than they used to. 

      So, as a ridiculous alternative that even she herself was ashamed of, she took up the hobby of stargazing.

     Of course, her excuse for this was that ‘it helped her to draw inspiration for writing’. To be quite honest, it did help a little bit, but that was far from the main reason she did it. Sometimes, she wished for an ideal love life, for her own body, for happiness, for simple things such as better paper to write on. Other times, she wished she wasn’t in the current situation she was in; stuck on an island, hiding out from the despair that crawled and lurked in every other corner of the earth. She wished she would stop having such vivid nightmares, and she wished for a good night sleep.

     A good night sleep was the exact opposite of what she had received this night, which was why she was now clambering tiredly to the top of the roof, notebook clutched tightly in one hand. With her free hand, she gently pushed open the roof hatch, peeking her head out. Upon seeing the other sitting in Fukawa’s usual spot, she quickly ducked down slightly, frowning and mumbling to herself quietly.

     ”Sorry… d-don’t worry, I won’t t-take up space, I’ll just head back down— I wouldn’t w-want to subject anyone t-to being that close to me, since there’s not much room up here… I’ll leave.”

[servilesword]

Peko hesitated when she saw Fukawa. She hadn't even spoken to the girl, and even sights of her were few and far between; they seemed never to frequent the same spots or even cross paths, even when so much time was spent just in the one building. Peko had only heard speak of the girl by some of the other Future Foundation members, and she couldn't say the thought was comforting.

A serial killer on the island where they had just escaped a world of murder...? A serial killer, unrestrained and capable of murder at any moment if she chose? Although it was clear many of the kids on the island were capable of murder, coming across someone who had actually done so repeatedly was anything but comforting, especially when she was anywhere close to the young master...

Even so... the girl's words were anything but confident. Was she really the one the others spoke of...? Peko couldn't piece it together-- such a nervous girl, unable to even share a space for worry of being a bother... How could she kill?

Then again, I myself could qualify as a serial killer, as well as a serial killer impersonator, Peko thought, reconsidering her quick judgment.

At the last possible moment, she made a quick and possibly bad decision and said, "There's no need. I do not mind another's presence, should you want to stay here with me."

[servilesword]

>>stars; open<<

Fifty-nine...

Peko mouthed the words soundlessly with her lips, her neck craning back in order to get a better view of the sky above her. Her red eyes darted from dot to shiny bright dot, counting them despite the supposed impossibility of the task. She... she didn't know exactly what the purpose was, but did there have to be one?

Seventy-three...

Peko used to take note of the stars often as a child, and although her interest had waned as she grew and learned of the more important things in life, lately it had come back to her-- about when I entered the simultation, she thought, before resuming her count. Eighty-seven, eighty-eight, eighty-nine...

Of course, the light pollution near where she had lived had made the stars little more than scattered points in the sky, few and far between. Now that she had come to this place, a few specks of island among an ocean stretching infinitely in all directions, the problem was nonexistent-- in fact, thousands upon thousands of stars shone in the late night sky, so, so many more than she could ever count...

One hundred and--

Her concentration broke immediately as she heard a knock on the roof door behind her. 

Who else would be out this late at night...?

"Who is it?" she said, turning around quickly.

[servilesword]

>>WAKE<<

[goldanklebiter]

It feels as if all he has done these days is wait. Waiting, waiting, waiting. Impatient thrives the boy, waiting isn’t that fun anymore. It was never fun, was it? The only fun it contains is the anticipation. Anticipation for something that won’t be confirmed until she awakes.

At this point, the so-called “hope” he ever grasped onto had vanished, but checking up on her in the hospital is only a habit that he cannot let go of. Her slumber has lasted for so long, that it shouldn’t matter anymore, but it does.

He was used to the endless nights and lack of sleep, carelessly messing up his schedule. Night almost hits, but the sun hasn’t set just yet. The boy has a feeling in his gut that this will be the night, and he gets a sudden urge to check up on the comatose Peko. Out of reflex, he springs up out of his bed and exits his room.

After a mini stroll , he opens the door he has latched onto everyday since he entered the island. Bright lights spring into his eyes, causing him to squint. Sitting in front of him lied ten kids in their hospital beds unconcious. Plenty of kids who never deserved what they did get. Stepping onto the ledge, he enters the gloomy hospital. One, two, three, four, five, he counts. Not a single kid awake tonight. As expected..

The seat right beside Peko Pekoyama, Super Highschool Level Swordswoman, magnetizes him like a moth to a streetlight. Suddenly landing onto the ledge, Kuzuryuu hangs his head, and stares at the girl that he once knew. A human tool, she would be thinking. Although that was a lie.

He thought he was used to it, but a deep, sharp pain hits his stomach when he remembers that she might never wake up. He rests himself against the ledge he was sitting on top of, and stares into the space. 

He begins dozing off, but the squeak of the hospital bed causes him to jump out of surprise. That was not a noise he was expecting, confusion wanders in his mind for a split second. Could it be..? Finally, he shifts his head toward the sudden sound effect.

Peko.

She lifted herself out of the bed, and searched the room in a sudden daze. When her bright red eyes met the blonde’s dusty gold, in a high contrast, an intense emotion hit him. It took him a few moments to comprehend what was happening, what this feeling was, what he wanted. Before he was able to identify it, he threw himself into an affectionate embrace, probably startling her.

[servilesword]

"Fuyu--?!" Peko tried to say, but the words caught in her throat and she wasn't sure if it was because of how tightly the young master was gripping her now or from the overwhelming feelings that rose in her chest from him even being there, unharmed, safe, there for her and holding her like she had always longed.

Peko hugged him back like her life depended on it, refusing to acknowledge the headache that was forming from unanswered questions or the weakness in her knees or her arms or her entire body because he was alive--

And when she couldn't hold in the relief and happiness and pure, unrestrained pride anymore it found outlet through her eyes and Peko cried freely for the second time in her life. The later memories washed over her all at once and although few and far between she-- she remembered speaking to him at the end, him winning, him escaping and-- earlier than that, him revealing his golden heart more and more over the days on that island...

She was so proud of him, for what he had become, for finally showing the world the side of him only she had seen before and although Peko couldn't speak, although she was choking on her emotions and sobs all she could do was hold tighter, digging her fingers into his shoulders and trying to hold herself together as she leaned on him.

[servilesword]

>><<

current status: awake; pending recovery

thoughts: ... Mahiru Koizumi woke up before I had. Could it be... that the young master had spoken to her? About what happened...? ... I should apologize... correct? I hold all of the responsibility, after all, not the young master. He doesn't deserve to be blamed for my interference... I should not have been given a second chance after what happened, but I am awake and alive and although I question reality there's nothing I can do but accept what is presented to me. But... why is it that I don't have the same strength as before? A tool cannot be useful unless it can be used... A tool... A tool?

[servilesword]

//im so pumped. i'm gonna do 500 roleplays all day every day. everyone rp with me i love being peko god bless

[pasblase-deactivated20151229]

Ten AM || Naegi&Peko

[pasblase-deactivated20151229]

Naegi turned around upon hearing the metal door squeak open and he put his mug back down, his eyes widening a little in surprise.

He only went to see Pekoyama briefly, the day she came out of her comatose state to take her heart readings and make sure that all of her vitals checked out, and so far she has been doing—thank god, just fine. She was among the ones he had worry for, due to the trauma suffered in the simulation. He and the others had a theory that the ones who experienced the most trauma in game would have the hardest time coming back to full consciousness. 

When Pekoyama and Koizumi returned for the most part, healthy, it was a relief—and he could begin working on what to do with them once they all woke up instead of working with ‘if’s’ or 'by chance.'. They gave him a lot of well-needed faith.

It’s only been a few days, and seeing that she’s up walking around was telling sign that her muscles didn’t suffer from being in a veg state for so long; that’s one thing he could add in his report to the Board this evening, he had some good news to offer!..he smiled softly at her, giving her full attention.

"Yeah I’m Naegi, and..I’m really sorry I never got around to introducing myself right off the bat." he began, "..Peko Pekoyama, right? Nice to see you again! I’m a part of the Foundation—"

He stopped mid sentence, catching his mistake and..he waved it off, “I-I guess you already figured that, though..how are you this morning?”

[servilesword]

Peko eyed Naegi. He was fairly short, likely not muscular; she could overpower him easily if it came down to it. His words didn’t make it seem like he was hiding something, but the stuttering did little to convince her of it. Some of the most dangerous men she had ever encountered would seem friendly to an untrained eye, but after spending so long striving to find threats wherever they may lay, Peko knew better and--

She was doing it again.

The young master had assured her these were safe, that they were the ones that had rehabilitated them, but Peko’s old habits didn’t fail to reveal themselves-- she knew it was a simulation, she had to accept it, she knew that the Future Foundation was good, she had to accept it, but the skepticism was hard to contain.

Realizing she had paused for a moment, she said, “... I’m fine. I’ve been feeling better since waking up.” A total lie, of course. Her muscles were aching just from the short walk upstairs, and she would have given anything just for a seat-- but it wasn’t important, she could ignore it, she could withstand anything and if she couldn’t she didn’t deserve to be among the survivors.

Peko nonchalantly took a seat near Naegi (not next to him, due to the fact that he still hadn't earned her trust, but close enough to continue the conversation), passing it off as relaxing instead of attempting to relieve her pain.

[pasblase-deactivated20151229]

Ten AM || Naegi&Peko

As if god decided to be merciful to him this once, he was able to get some rest and actually slept in for the first time in weeks. He woke up at nine instead of seven, as usual. Perhaps it was because he had less to worry about?

Things were going incredibly smoothly and in the past week two of his former classmates have emerged from their comatose state, two when he was informed there was almost no chance of them ever regaining consciousness..this was definitely an occasion to celebrate.

However Naegi found it fit to be by himself for a moment atop of the deck that morning.

Careful to not disturb those who might still be sleeping on the third floor, he grabbed one of the laptops from the computer lab and a coffee to the rooftop where there were a few chairs, a seating area covered by an umbrella and (as if they would be having barbeque any time soon) a grill sitting near the edge. The rooftop was absolutely gorgeous, it had a perfect view of the ocean from the hill the facility was placed and in a sense their own little retreat from the stuffiness inside. The deck was still a bit wet from the early morning shower, but he paid no mind.

Jabberwock looked..beautiful from here, it was like a vacation and..definitely took him away from reality. It was almost unbelievable how untouched the place was by the outside world, and he was grateful.

He put down his laptop and went over to the edge, resting against it, and watched the tide come in.

[servilesword]

Peko hadn’t slept more than a few hours at a time since waking up.

Whether it was the nightmares or natural insomnia she didn’t know; either way, she somewhat preferred it. She had taken the extra time to sort out her thoughts, both trying to sort through her feelings (irrelevant, a part of her would say) and her guilt (negligible, another told her). However, spending so much time either in recovery or her room had made her develop a yearning to explore. She had barely seen outside of those walls, and even when the young master spoke with her it was spent on anything but tours of the island.

Nothing was the same as she remembered in the— simulation, she thought, still not used to the idea. Everything was different, so radically different, and she ridiculed herself for being unable to adjust easily. A side effect of her coma, she thought. Everything seemed to be from the coma, or at least the researchers said so. Because of this, even stepping outside often proved quite difficult. The disorientation and bouts of dizziness at seeing what she knew shouldn’t be there was more than she’d prefer.

She left her room, unlocking the locked door (a habit she had adopted from the mutual killing and couldn’t seem to rid herself of) and made her way slowly down the hall. Spending so long asleep had taken a toll on her, but the tiredness was easily ignored— she had been through far worse, and if someone like herself couldn’t handle walking, she certainly wouldn’t prove useful, would she? Determined to find a change of scenery, she decided to search the facility top-down— starting with the rooftop.

Upon reaching the door, she turned the knob tentatively— surely she wouldn’t get in trouble for getting fresh air. With a surge of confidence— or, rather, a disregard for the rules and a simple wanting of seeing natural light— she pushed it open and there sat Makoto Naegi. A member of the Future Foundation. Just her luck.

Backing out now wasn’t an option, though, of course, and even if it was, what need was there to do so? There wasn’t exactly anything they could take from her. Clearing her throat, she stepped out onto the rooftop.

“Excuse me, you are Makoto Naegi, correct?”

[servilesword]

>><<

"According to what I have been told, it seems the events that unfolded when Monobear was here on this island were merely a simulation. I admit...  I don't quite understand it, but it's the only explanation I have been given, and so I must accept it."

"Despite the fact that none of it was technically real... it is my hope that you will forgive me for my actions. I caused you all a lot of trouble and grief... and for that, I apologize."

"Going forward... I will do my best to ensure that these island days are the peaceful ones we never got to enjoy inside that place."

("Perhaps... this time... I can do so by his side.")

[servilesword]

>>WAKE<<

Peko slept.

Her conscious mind, once brimming with activity, had been absent for weeks upon weeks, now; the few thoughts that managed to linger for a few seconds instead of just slipping through as if intangible were never quite sure of themselves, always somewhere between reality and unreality, similar to the state between sleep and wakefulness.

It was a blessing in disguise, however; if she had been self-aware, if she knew anything of her situation, it was likely she wouldn’t be able to cope. The few moments she had spent alive with the weight of her failure-- metaphorically upon her shoulders and literally between her shoulderblades-- had been enough trauma to last a lifetime. This didn’t stop her subconscious from attempting to piece together its broken memories, to bring reality back to Peko, to force her wake, but it was all futile. Sensible conclusions never surfaced and even if they had, she could never become aware. The memories played over and over like a broken record with no end in sight; of course, the most pervasive were the ones Peko would have tried desperately to forget.

Thousands of times now she had felt the numbing, relentless pain of a sword in her back. It was invasive, never failing to send shivers up her spine even if she was, in reality, lying safe in a hospital bed. When those drew away from her attention, others came to light in their wake. Undeniably, the worst, and thus the most frequent one, was that of the proof of Peko’s mistake. The young master below her, scarlet blood erupting from his right eye; the image was burned onto her eyelids, never ceasing to plunge her deeper into her silent despair. She’d die a thousand times for him, but experiencing a death just once after doing such an act was more than she could bear.

But something shifted in that moment. The memories faded to black, real black, not the total absence of color as she had always experienced. The sight in front of her was real, tangible despite the lack of detail, and slowly she realized-- the hospital sheets stiff and unwrinkled below her hands-- the faint scent of isopropanol-- the feeling of weight, of existing in a body rather than a being made of stardust and memories in a world unknown-- it was real, too real, it wasn’t a dream or an illusion--

Peko woke up.

As she became aware of her surroundings, the beating of her heart didn’t change; she was calm. Simply existing was exhausting in and of itself after so long spent on the sidelines, running on autopilot. But she must move-- she must get up, she had something to do, something or someone needed her and it was urgent, and she didn’t know what it was but she had to stand up, find him--

Fuyuhiko.

It was him. The boy whose face plagued her mind, whose live she had saved in exchange for her own, the one she had been tied to from the beginning. Remembering seemed to lift a barrier in her mind, and she calmed again. To think logically was important now, and would prove invaluable to the task she had assigned herself.

She tried to move a finger tentatively, and found she could, although with startling difficulty considering the simplicity of the task. Completely disregarding any sensible course of action, she drew together all the willpower she had and heaved herself up into a sitting position, though not without a cry of pain from every muscle inside her.

Her fingers rubbed the sleep from her eyes, and every inch was her body was either aching, tingling, or painful; opening them to look around the room did little at first. Her farsightedness, in addition to the inactivity of her eyes for months, prevented her from discerning much around her aside from blurry blobs and shadows. Instead, she scanned the room with her other senses frantically in search of something, anything to explain to her what was going on and where the young master was and if he was safe and how she was alive...

[servilesword]

>><<

「standby... ... ... no response. try again?  ▶yes   no standby... ... ... loading... ... ... system restore successful. patient 11037-0404 now active.」

[servilesword]

「standby... ... ... no response. try again?  ▶yes   no」