I realized I failed to grab a few captures here. One was Quistis once again affirming she knew she stood no chance with Squall once Rinoa entered his life. 💔 Another was more conversation between Squall and Rinoa in the garden, especially the parts where Squall stated that his enemy was Ultimecia, not Rinoa.
Regardless, it was still a cool scene before their ultimate mission.
Just so you know, the next post will be about.....lore. Featuring my oc, The Purple Jester! They shall be narrating it! After that post, there shall be weekly posts for my sona's mom's lore! Hope yall enjoy!!! Well, anyone that will even care....yeah.
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 /Part 11 / Part 12 / Part 13 / Part 14 / Part 15 / Part 16 / Part 17 / Part 18 / Part 19 / Part 20
Ao3
DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT
Satou / Kai
probably in character? xD
i'm so sorry, but I swear to God something will actually /happen/ next chapter >->;;;;
——————-
Eriko had wanted to go out guns blazing after Kai and drag his sorry stupid avoidant ass back kicking and screaming because what the hell she’d been trying so hard he didn’t get to just fucking fly the coop after some serious bonding time like that! Fucker was going to get tied down and fed nothing but kimchi and ice cream for the next month. Had Satou’s stupid ghosty come back? Was that what was going on? Had the two of them fucking run off together? Unbe-fucking-lievable. The voices in her pendant quietly roared their anger as a nice harmony to her own righteous fury.
Unfortunately, in the hours after his disappearance her body had decided to fuck with her just as much as Kai. She was so mad she almost didn’t notice at first, but as she was seething in the kitchen, sipping some tea, she realized. She had a sore throat.
“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck,” she said, holding her mouth open wide in front of a mirror. It didn’t look like strep, but then again the sore throat had only just started. “Damn it!” she swore, punching the sink and subsequently wincing from the pain. It hadn’t even been four months. It wasn’t fair. She pressed her hands to her cheeks in an effort to keep her face under control, and the skin felt hot under her hands. FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK.
She felt like shit announcing that she was Sick to Kai’s parents (parent and associated chaperone? Who knew…) in the midst of all the other shit going on, but life was shit and she’d learned the hard way to not play around with this. While Yuuki remained on Kai-search duty, Megumi (well, Miya, really) had taken on the frustrating but also slightly comforting role of caretaker.
“Are you certain you don’t need to go to the hospital?” Miya fretted, waving her serrated arms around uselessly as she brought what must be the seventeenth mug of tea now. Really, tea didn’t actually help that much.
“I’m just Sick, it’s not an Episode yet,” Eriko said tiredly, lying in bed with a wet rag on her head and a smear of Vic’s Vapo Rub on her chest. “Mom always just threw me in the hospital at the first sign of anything, but there’s nothing I really need them for unless it gets really bad.”
(and they’d wheel her down strapped to a table into the operating room and cut her open again)
She still took her handful of meds faithfully every morning, even as the fever and sore throat persisted. A colorful cocktail of immunosuppressants and antibiotics and narcotics designed to hopefully prolong the inevitable sweet release of death. She’d noticed the voices in her pendant started getting louder and more anxious-sounding if she didn’t take her meds, so she kept taking them. She still had shit to do anyway.
In the absence of Kai and her own ability to fucking leave her bed, Eriko wanted to (temporarily) delegate the task of starting to build her ghost army to Miya, and pushed the list of names at her more times than she could count. But Miya always shook her head and said that Eriko should take more time to consider what she wanted to do before she started doing it. Eriko took that to mean that Miya was refusing to go far, which pissed her off but there wasn’t much she could do about it.
Since Miya couldn’t be manifested all the time, Megumi would often be in the room with Eriko instead, bringing her soup and what little news there was. Kai being his mother’s son knew exactly how to hide himself from her, and since he obviously didn’t want to be found there wasn’t much that they could do. Yuuki had revised her strategy to attempt to find Yu Tosaki, since he was Satou’s next target and Kai might decide to make an appearance there as well.
Often though, she was alone, lying in bed trying to muster the energy to sit up and ignore the coughs that had started halfway through day two. Megumi and Yuuki were getting more anxious the longer Kai was missing, and that kept them from fretting too much over her, some relative stranger. The human mind could only handle so much shit at once, after all.
She kept the lights off and the blinds closed so the room was as dark as possible when no one was around. If she was to be holed up and miserable, her environment must reflect that. It was eerie in the lack of light how distinct and clear the grains of ghost sand in her pendant appeared, even when she closed her eyes.
She’d cough, and it would pull painfully at her most recent surgery scar (not really fresh, but still very pink and angry-looking). The voices in her pendant (in her head?) seemed concerned by her quiet groans of pain, so between the coughs she took to narrating for them the various valve-repair/replacement surgeries she’d had on her heart, wondering if they’d be less worried if they understood.
There had been a time, before her mother had opted to pull her out of school completely, when she’d gleefully tried to explain to her classmates what exactly the surgeons had been up to in her ribcage, but they’d always gotten grossed out and that had made Eriko feel gross and so she’d stopped talking about it. But the pendant voices only ever sounded curious or sad, so Eriko started babbling about every gross yucky detail regarding her Illness that she could think of, and felt the pendant getting warmer and warmer on her skin the longer she talked. It pulsed to match her heartbeat.
She started talking about other things too. The mortification of getting her first period in the hospital, and having some disinterested male doctor poke around her vagina without any particular reason to “just in case there was any inflammation” and reaching the point where she didn’t bother learning the names of the aides and nurses and doctors because they were never the same and they were only useful as a means of counting the passing of time. The time she’d woken up on the operating table.
She’d flip the hourglass over again and again as she talked, noticing when the grains didn’t fall quite right and when they fell just like sand.
Around day four, she started hearing words in the noise, the garbled voices layered over each other enough that a few sounds would become distinct. “.̞͖̯̟͓̬̠͡.̱͙̞͉̥̖͉̼.̦̹͇ͅe͕̘̗͇͢.̴̩̻͍̲̮.͈̜̦̪̞͍̯͍͜.̙̳̦͎̫͍̙̩r̵҉̜̻̲̞̯̦i̡̥̘̠͜.̛̥͎͎̗.̴͓͈̫̮͈͔͎̮͠.͉̤̫̳͉̹̯͜͞k͞͏͚̫̲̭o̴̴̢̖̥̪̝̥.͕̤́.̙̫͟.͚” and “.̱͍̻͕̩̞̼̪̕͟͝.̶̨҉͇̖̘̲̬̳̘.̝͓b̘̰̭̗̘̜̱r̷͔̳̳͎̟͕͝.̖̤̳͞.̛̣.̸̠͔̩͍̫͎ͅe̡͏̘̳̩̝͓ͅà̧̬̖̗͈̖̼̖t̶͉̳̻h̸̵̛̼͖͓͕̱̬͉e̥̰͟.̭̼͈̗̻͇̤̀̕ͅ.̪͚̳͢.̡̩̟̰̞̭͖͢” and “.̲̭̳̹͎͖ͅ.̳̗̬̦̯̩͖͙.̤̣̘͔̼̭͖́ś͕̙͙̼͓ͅl͍̥̙̕.̼̭̗̟͓̻͖͔̝͢.̢̼̣̼͉̩̖̙.̴̙̥̻͓͍̩̫͢ͅe̤͔̩̠͕e͚̫̫̤̬̣.̶̷̩͈̙̞̥̲̻.̣͎́͟.̧̻̳͇̱͡͠e̖̖̻͇͕͘͢͝è̮̲̲̘̲̳̲ͅȩ̱͔̭͖̱͓͚͚̺ẹ̗͚͠ḛ͓̯̲͢͝e̶҉͔͔͍͔e̡̯̺̘͖̲̟̥͠ͅp͍̙̙.͓͙̠̫̕.̦̘.̭̗͉͝” and in the morning as she was waking up “.̯͍͈̘̭.̷͙̤̕͡.̥̰͇m̨̪̝͈é͔d̵͍̥͈̟͚.̨̛̺̞̬̥̤.͚.̘͖̗̕͘í̴͕̩̠̘͙͈̯͈̳.͇̟͖͖̰̗͟ͅ.͏̨̻͖̬͇̪́.̡̩̤̪͡c̛̘̬̳̬̟̭͇̀̀i̸̵̢̭̲̹̟͖̹̹n̶̤͢e̛̙͍̳͈̖̮͕͔.̗̞̣̦.̛͉͉͇̖́ͅ.̸̧̯̩̲̺̱͠.”
The cough and sore throat started lessening, and her fever broke. Perhaps this wasn’t going to be an Episode after all. She had the energy to sit up in bed more, and found herself mostly scouring the internet for anything to be found on the ajin Kouji Tanaka. Basic information like date of discovery, date of capture, date of birth, where he was from, all were easy and told her absolutely nothing about him. The leaked videos of his torture were a little harder to find, but still easy. She’d seen them before, but she started to rewatch them anyway, only stopping when she realized that the voices in her pendant were screaming. She hushed them, and spent a couple hours calming them down by reading stupid youtube video comments out loud and breaking down exactly what was stupid about each one. Not exactly traditional, but whatever. Captive audience.
Further digging got her slightly more personal information, like what high school he’d gone to, which had led her to an old geocities page filled with pictures of his school’s cultural festivals. Some student body government dweeb must have run it. She scrolled through them, sifting through the dozens of pictures that didn’t include him to find the odd one that did. It was strange to see him so young. He must have only had to worry about grades back then… Some of the pictures made her laugh, and she didn’t cough. That was a good sign.
Embracing the full-on stalker mode she had entered, she started looking to see what other archives from that time had pieces of Kouji Tanaka in them. Some of them weren’t that surprising…a police blotter reporting him as involved in a small car collision, or the discovery of his class ranking upon graduation (nothing impressive from either side). Others were very surprising…newspaper clippings about local festivals had him sitting with other musicians, holding a shamisen. A shamisen! She wondered if he was any good.
She wondered if his parents missed him, or if they were like hers.
Later that day, Miya carried her out of bed and, at Eriko’s reluctantly expressed concern of fainting in the steam, sat with her in the shower. The steam made snot drip out of her nose but made it easier to breathe. Steam condensed on and dripped off of Miya’s mandibles and it made Eriko giggle. They washed each other’s backs, even though it was sort of a moot point for Miya. It was the most normal form of human interaction Eriko had had in days. Kind of sad, but Eriko took what she could get.
The next day, day seven, she had the house to herself. Satou’s plan to kill Yu Tosaki was due to happen that day, so Megumi and Yuuki had both gone to try to save Kai. There were various underlings around, but none entered the private area so it was as though Eriko was alone. She walked quietly through the different rooms, glaring thoughtfully at pieces of family memorabilia that Yuuki had evidently hung onto, enjoying her regained ability to breathe like a normal person.
She wanted very badly to know what was happening, but she didn’t dare turn on the news. She didn’t particularly give a shit if this “Toe-Sucky” guy was dead or alive, but on the off chance that Kai had been there and that the news reported on him, she didn’t want to hear about it from that. She at least wanted to hear it from people, preferably from Kai’s stupid mouth. Fucker.
To distract herself, she started poring over the list of names, their locations and sometimes a few other tidbits of information penciled in next to them. It didn’t seem like much. How many ajins did Satou have working for him? What kind of army was she going to need to stand a chance against him? …what would she do with that army, after…? How would she get them to trust her in the first place? Could she really expect them to rally to her?
Maybe she could visit Kouji Tanaka’s hometown. Was he still working with Satou, or had he come to his senses yet? Did he even have any senses left to come back to?
Her thumb ran over the pendant slowly. That was an uncharitable thought.
That night, lying in bed and trying to fall asleep with nothing but the voices for company, she told them, solemnly, “I need to find him. He’s important, I think. Necessary.”
The voices whispered agreements. Eriko blew her nose and admired the color and consistency of her snot, a sign that the sick was on its way out for sure. She turned off the light and let the room get dark, so that all she could see was the black sand.
“Where is he?” she asked quietly, not really sure what she was expecting.
The voices chittered to themselves unintelligibly for what felt like hours, lulling Eriko’s eyes closed until she was almost asleep. Then suddenly, they went silent. The sand was pressing itself against one side of the pendant, toward the window.
