Off to a time of sunrise
Forgetfulness blooms
No, my dreams of lies
Full of tombs
Pitter-patter.
Rain.
Nothing but rain.
There seemed to be no end to it as if it hadn't flooded the fallen concrete atop piles upon piles of flesh, many of which had hands reaching out for nothing. Many of them had the fresh rotten scent of crimson, dulled only by the dipping batter of tears atop the sky. The gloss shined through the veiled moonlight, revealing nothing but smoldering ashes amid cracked ground.
Puddles amongst puddles would be the guiding sound of the rain for it to fill up on, ways that made the water flow across each section - some only spilling to the massive craters underneath - the pipes are calling. From the desecrated homes of every citizen living, the mere sound of water was the only covenant between those who lived and those who departed earlier.
Could there be anything worth noting apart from the stench, the blood, and the very meaning - or lack thereof - behind everything? Will there be any merit towards the resurgence of such a place, knowing it all would cease?
Residence will know no such event.
The children will never part ways with their parents.
The adults never saw their dreams.
In this mere visage, only one bore witness. With two eyes unable to be closed, a body far more ragged to be called "human", with what remains of the "is", became all that "was".
For both her and this city.
"...Huh?"
Was her wet whisper.
A silent in-depth word, yet it carried no sense. A ceaseless, grayed-out hum. Buildings were skeletal, their bones picked clean by an unseen hand. Glass, like shattered mirrors, reflected the sky's tears. There was a silence here, heavy and wet like the clothes hung out to dry in a perpetual storm. The city was a wound, still weeping. Its heart was lost in the endless downpour.
The air tasted of metal and regret. Rust seeped into everything. Even the wind carried a chill, such coldness that seeped into the marrow. A tomb, and the rain, its eternal dirge. There were no colors, only shades of gray and the sickly green of mold creeping over concrete.
"..."
She moved through the ruins like a ghost in a haunted house. Her eyes, twin pools of shadow, held out her hand - towards something... out of reach. Her skin was pale - almost translucent - light drained from her form. A red stain was on her hand- no, not just her hand.
Her face, her legs, her knees, her stomach, and her chest. That man was a memory, a flicker in the dying embers of her mind, yet smolders the rages of deep magma swelling within. She sank to her knees as if all was tilting. A song that seemed to grow louder- a comforting embrace. Or perhaps, a finality. The rain kissed her face, cold and indifferent. As her mind slipped away, the body would question if she would ever regain hope.
But alas...
To wake is to weep.
...
For the longest time.
I wished for the sublime
For them, and not me
Condemned, I'll set myself free
"Wake up..."
...
"Hey, wake up... you want your rear to be buried under the soil or something?"
A clear distant voice, one just as serene as water, calm like spring.
Sigh
"I'm up... I'm up..."
Like glue stuck onto two pieces of wood, it took quite some time for the woman to get off of her "bed" - one riddled with simple sacks of solid concrete, her eyes opening only to dilate and close again upon seeing the bright sunlight, overshadowing a figure in front of her.
"Now's not the time for rest, Yaomu. Let's go eat breakfast..." gesturing a hand for her to hold, "It's gonna be a long day, again..." replied with calmness in his tone.
"You don't say, big brother..." as if her mind drifted into something far too dark, at least the light said something no one could ever tell.
All is well.
It was a rather simple table.
Consisting of well... other than concrete? None much. It had some crystal clear plates- sporks- included.
Centered around it would be a large pot, smoking hot with liquidy mush as the inside. Sprinkled on it would be lumps of meat, chunks of greens - a heap of which are carrots and potatoes. The aroma of such warmth would rid of any soil lingering amongst the household, approaching as the girl would glancing at the two figures at the rear end of the table.
A male and a female, with white hair, and wrinkly skin yet bore a slight glee on their lips. Their heads merely made a motion to move both siblings to have a seat on the ground. Its feeling, albeit a little rough, isn't something all could complain about given the circumstances.
"Now then, let us pray...."
Not much they did - no such hand signs or symbol for their gratefulness to anyone above - but something about closing one's eyes and telling a silent 'thank you' was more than enough to express what they were trying to bridge off to towards THEM.
A minute or so of silence would pass, and the girl wouldn't even make an utterance of complaint. Hinting no changes in her cheek nor her breathing, a long and deep breath is what she did.
Wearing the same lips as their parents - in peace she smiled.
All is well.
Hoooit! Hoooit!
Much there is every morning, there would always be a night to dawn upon it long after the workers had gone to their homes for rest.
Ready to face the world's challenge, and one particular individual...
"Mom. Dad. Yoshi...."
...would arrive.
"I'm home."
"Brother..." just waiting outside was her, walking for an embrace, feeling her taller sibling's body - feeble and frail - and having her carry his belongings, even with the latter's reluctance.
"Work's tough, sis, I'll say prematurely..."Knowing as if she'd ask that, the man would remove his shoes and socks, setting them on a rack to his left, "It's gonna be yet another day. Just... constantly repeating..."
"Seriously?" she jest, arriving from his room, laying the bag on one of many hooks nailed on the door, "Reverting to the default language model now, are we?" chuckling under as she handed him a bar of candy.
"At least we get to talk about something rather than some scientific banter..." sitting down on the floor, ripping the wrapper before taking a light nibble, "...don't you ever get tired of that?"
"Of course not, brother!" she smiled, giggling and sitting next to him, "I don't mind sharing these with you. After all, your opinions-"
"-inspire my next work." cutting his sister off, "That's what you were going to tell me again, hm?" calmly poking at her way.
"H-hey... stop that...." pouting a little, before raising a single brow.
He was giggling.
Though it was faint and hoarse, the giggity of his response - even with eyes bearing bags far darker than his skin - his noodle-like arms and all, it felt like hiding all of his pain underneath that very glee only seemed that it was never there in the first place.
Placing his hand on her shoulder, he'd slowly stand up and raise his hand to rub her hair, saying, "Anywho, you should... take a rest..."
Even if that were her line, saying that would only give out his normal response. There was no convincing him not to go to work despite his body befitting that of a malnourished kid tenfold. Impoverished they were indeed.
"You still got some work to do right?" he asked, not expecting any answer, "Gotta make those beds or some... motto you said- I.. I.. don't remember, but..." he nodded to himself, "Go... to your room and sleep. No staying through the night now, okay?"
"..."
His smile didn't fade, nor was it going away any time soon.
The way he would move her hair and brush it against his cold and fragile palms, and the manner in which he spoke. Not a moment after his question, he noted her face.
Visibly, her face was... a little empty, staring down at something his brother didn't know. It felt like something was there, and wasn't at the same time.
Transitioning to a grimacing expression, her eyes dilated and mouth sewn shut, her body trembling and her fingers finicky and nowhere to go.
Rivers like these would've been settled down, but, there wasn't any waterfall to mask the ravishing waves, nor was anything to make a significant impact of.
The moment was just as clear as the day before she turned to her brother - her eyes cloudy and her mouth almost puffed up, ready to drown in her tears, reaching only its precipice yet never truly arriving.
Please.
"Good night... brother..."
...
PLEASE.
...
"Sweet dreams..."
...
All wasn't well.
...
..
.
Beep!
...
Heart Rate: 60-100 beats per minute
Blood Pressure: 120/80 mmHg
Oxygen Saturation: 95-100%
Respiration Rate: 12-20 breaths per minute
"!?"
With a sudden force, the girl would jolt herself awake, eye still just as dilated - if not, more - as she glanced down at her hand holding a crystal shard, the flashing of many things would occur.
Days, weeks, months, and years, of overflowing happiness. Hours that seemed to whiz by after having fun with her loved ones: the simple meal grubs, the non-fancy dishes served only with the purest of care, the affection of hugs and kisses, and the daily laughter...
They all served as the cornerstone during her time away from the world. The mere smiles of her mother, f̴̼̈́ȃ̸͓t̵̢̍h̵̖̐ẻ̸̹r̴͈͝, and brother became what seemed to her as the anchor towards maintaining the path she once paved for them.
The achievements she had and the very meaning of her success - all of it had merit because she knew it was all for the betterment of her family.
And yet...
Yet...
Those benefactors...
They all never existed.
For something like a sweet dream, only something like that could ever happen in those settings. A scapegoat amongst the harshest of realities, and a means of salvation under the banner of "peace and harmony", only for the order of the world to purge those who are weak, giving rise to the strong.
Rule of the jungle.
'Everything that rises must converge' they say; for all species - no matter how pathetic or how powerful - eventually will intersect and become one whole being. Like a hive mind of creatures, yet ones that possess no individuality nor freedom to do what they want.
Perhaps for the sake of argument, they did, all are mere lies. Once the self is gone, there will be no more me to follow. Only the illusion of the immaterial that is the self and not the real deal - one that was forsaken for the sake of conforming with society.
...
"Ma'am!"
A distant voice would call out.
"Ma'am! The patient! She's... alive!" Distant footsteps would be heard.
Glancing above, the girl saw a bag and a constant beeping noise on her left, as she trained her eyes on the corner of the room, and looked a little upward.
ER.
With a hinge being moved, the door slowly creaked and opened. A woman in a white uniform, wearing a mask, was followed by a young blue-haired boy.
"It hasn't been 4 hours since we last found you..." the boy said, his face getting close as he placed his hands on the plastic bag hanging overhead, making his way up above and injecting some liquid through a syringe, filling up the transparent carrier.
"It is a sad news, however, Miss. As you are.... the only survivor we found at Gyokutō."
Examining the way her breathing was fluctuating, the hurried lady soon calmed down from the pressure, her pupils contracting and the shaking making its cease.
"Where...." her next words were unintelligible, as the breaths made it hard for her to speak her mind, the shock from what occurred still fresh in her brain.
"Miss. You are at Nagasu Hospital. Do not worry. You will be safe here. Please.. calm down..." Those words weren't exactly meaningful.
Even with the way they were saying it could be just lip service, she had to calm down. Not for the sake of agreeing on the terms she was badly dealt with, but for understanding, she is required to do so.
"If you need some time alone for yourself, just ask. It is this hospital's wish for you to remain healthy, both physically and mentally. Should you need a therapist instead, we can-"
The girl shook her head and nodded.
"...Understood."
Glancing at the boy, the two would slowly take their leave. The doctor gave the girl one last look as she closed the door
....
Beep!
...
"News Flash. The town of Gyokutō, Kumamoto has been reported to be recently destroyed by an unknown perpetrator. Specialists believe it to be the infamous Kyushu Criminal: "Yāoguài" who has still undergoing a live manhunt for over three decades until now.
Good evening, this is the Chive O' Clock. I'm Kenny Mittens.
And tonight's news will be about the surprising attack on the peaceful town of Gyokutō. Authorities are baffled by the sudden and brutal destruction of the entire town, leaving no survivors. The extent of the damage is catastrophic, with buildings reduced to rubble and infrastructure completely compromised.
Eyewitness accounts, if any, are scarce as the attack seems to have happened with chilling efficiency. However, experts from the Specialists Agency have linked the modus operandi to the infamous serial criminal, Yāoguài, who has been evading capture for over thirty years.
We will bring you more details as they unfold. In the meantime, let's hear from our field reporter, Alex Tanaka, who is currently on the scene-"
Beep!
...
..
.
"Hey, just gonna go to the CR. Brb."
"Sure thing, bro." replied the other.
"Dang, that guy sure had lots to drink..." spoke another dude.
"Don't say that you threw up all over the floor last night..." says as he chugged down a large mug.
"Screw you," the other chuckled, "Waiter! I'll order 'nother pint of, uhh, Auric Verdant, please!"
"Add Cobalt Surge while you're at it too, hehe!" as the man slightly got hit by the neck.
"If that bastard mixed those two drinks, you'll get socked up aight!?" replied angrily so, as he went back to his chair madly.
"Chill! Relax, my guy... I was just orderin' up my own. Ain't no way they're gonna mess it up..."
...
..
.
Drip, drop.
"The mission's ain't even done... what's taking him so long?"
On the desk would be a well-dressed man, staring at many cards laid upon him as he found his hand nowhere to go but downward, gently slamming a fist in a silent fit of rage.
"In theory, the fact it was that myth all over again led only those fact checkers all scrambling for their attention amongst public interests..."
Placing his chin and letting go as he got up, "While there could be supporting arguments..."
Creaaakkk
"I find it hard to believe that it's that over the rest."
...
..
.
"Bro, is he dumping now or what?"
Passing by them would be a tiny floating plushie, around the size of a thumb.
"Dunno man, maybe he's- yo, y'see that?"
"A doll..."
And just as it was passing through a door, it unveiled a harrowing stain splattered the clean tiles. Along with it, a silhouette appeared.
...
..
.
The man's voice echoed in the confined space. His breath, visible in the dim, artificial light, fogged his glasses. The air hung heavy, carrying with it a faint, metallic tang. Rust, perhaps. Or something worse. A creak of old metal punctuated his words as he gestured vaguely. His eyes darted around, flickering over unseen corners.
"T-there are three entrances here. One in the west leading upstairs, the northeast leading downstairs, and the east leading to a hallway with an elevator towards the basement...."
Palms sweating.
"If you're looking for the boss, they're right on the northeast, towards the basement just beside the jacuzzi room. Too bad..."
He stared ahead, his eyes betraying a flicker of something that resembled confidence, though it wavered at the edges.
"…leaving the hospital like that…"
In front of him, a woman stood—her presence both unsettling and off-putting. Her hair, once white, was now stained and matted, clinging to her scalp in wet, disheveled strands.
Bandages wrapped around her body like a second skin, their once sterile whiteness marred by deep, crimson patches that had soaked through. Some of the gauze hung loosely, unraveling to reveal glimpses of raw, wounded flesh underneath.
She appeared fragile, barely holding herself together, as if the slightest breeze might scatter her to pieces. Her eyes, however, were sharp—piercing through the veil of pain that enveloped her, locking onto him with a haunting intensity.
"I hope you make it all the way," the man hissed, however, his voice low and venomous, "and die a miserable one."
The words hung in the air, heavy and bitter, a curse as much as a farewell. She turned away, the shuffling of her bandaged feet the only sound that followed her down the desolate corridor, filled with many corpses.
...
..
.
"There's only one entrance... He sure wasn't lying."
Even with that resolve, her hand and body were quivering from atop the ceiling, weary eyes glancing at the two armed guards. One, in particular, possesses an ornate staff; the other wields a blade bearing a bear's head for its guard.
"If there was another entrance-"
Before she could finish the thought, the guard with the bear-headed sword suddenly lunged. But weren't they standing at one spot a while ago?
Lightning erupted from her body as she barely managed to twist out of the way, the blade narrowly missing her by a hair's breadth. The force of the attack sent her plummeting from her perch, crashing down onto the stage below with a bone-cracking thud.
She rolled as she hit the ground, coming to a stop on her knees, her breath ragged, eyes wide with shock. The guard's blade had missed, but the impact had shaken her form. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she could feel the sting pulsing through her veins.
"The guards?" asked the spearhead.
"Dead." answered the bear-guard.
"All 40?"
"Yep, well-"
Just as they were talking, the guard with the spear vanished from her sight. She blinked, struggling to track where he had gone, but it was already too late.
A blur of motion, faster than her eyes could follow, and the next thing she knew, she was hurled sideways. Her body slammed into the concrete wall with a sickening force, sending deep cracks spiderwebbing through the surface. A loud, sharp snap echoed through the space, delayed by a heartbeat.
"Not exactly all of them..." His voice was low and cold, as he prepared to strike again. "...She spared one."
Pain throbbed through her body as she struggled to stand. She forced herself upright, gripping a cane forged from glass, her only support. As she moved, thin glass panels materialized around her, shattering upon impact, taking the place of what would have been her shattered bones.
"Should I use Bunraku now? No... I'll pass out before I can deal significant damage..."
Her grip on the cane tightened, too hard, causing blood to seep from her bandaged palm, staining the glass.
"Screw this..."
<Rupert>
The room plunged into darkness as the lights shattered above her, casting everything into pitch black. But before she could take advantage of the cover, a small flicker of flame ignited at the tip of the spear, a dull orange glow that cast eerie shadows around the room. The guards seemed unfazed by the sudden shift; if anything, they appeared ready.
"She already entered the room. Make sure to block the exit," the one with the spear instructed, his voice calm. As the door swung open, revealing the space beyond, the swordsman stepped inside. "I'll be on the lookout."
The moment he entered, his figure began to shift and multiply. One by one, clones of him materialized, spreading out across the room, their movements synchronized as they searched every corner. Each one methodically checked behind furniture, under tables, and in every possible hiding spot.
Meanwhile, she crouched low behind the jacuzzi, her breath shallow, heart pounding in her chest.
"If only I had taken more time. I won't have to deal with this..."
She could hear the clones moving closer, their footsteps echoing ominously against the tiled floor.
"But, if I just rushed through, they won't have time to look for that Red Hand member. They still think he's alive..."
The faint light from the spear's flame flickered across the room, casting long shadows that danced along the walls.
"Gah. No... It's pointless to think about that right now..."
She gripped her cane tightly, pressing herself against the cold, damp surface, hoping the darkness would be enough.
"All I should focus on...."
Yet, this wasn't going to last.
"..."
Her grip slowly loosened. The sound of her cane falling signaling to all clones. One who was nearby was close enough to determine that fatal mistake.
You still have some work to do right?
...
Go and make those beds for me, 'kay?
"I will make sure you'll sleep in a nice bed..."
...
..
.
"Still ready to face us?" many of the clones would gather up and engage their swords, all running towards her, "Coming here being all ragged isn't the wisest move..."
Fool Believer has three distinct powers:
1. Its ability to conjure Glass.
2. Its ability to extract and manipulate memories through said Glass.
3. Its ability to create Springs through physical contact.
"...no more sweeter nightmares will bother us, big brother..."
The woman would slowly pick herself back up, rising from the spot once filled with cowardice, and facing them down with a visage far more grotesque than they expected.
[Jōruri]
In an instant, the room filled with the sound of shattering glass as hundreds upon hundreds of dolls made of crystal materialized around the cloned men. Each doll shimmered in the faint light, their faceless heads turning towards the intruders with eerieness. They surrounded the clones, afloat with strings hung upwards.
One of the clones stepped too close, however, as soon as he entered the range of the crystal dolls, they sprang into action, their limbs splitting and cracking. The clone's body was slashed to ribbons, the fragments of crystal cutting through flesh as if it were paper. He barely had time to react before he collapsed, his form making a large puddle of blood.
The remaining clones hesitated, aware of the threat that encircled them.
"Ranged."
Not exactly.
Bunraku normally was an amplified form made to combat more powerful enemies by herself. With its capacity for both close-range and long-range combat, Yoshioka sacrificed her body as collateral.
In history, however, such was the case with the puppet theatre, requiring an accompanying piece - Jōruri.
Using less the amount of strain and generating dolls from the glass cane, allows for weaker yet rapid attacks. An assembly of dolls was the technique she just used. She never hit him once, but a thousand times in that said instance.
For the sake of weakness, she found strength within her shortcomings.
However, it was a technique not made from instinct nor from the need to compensate for her mangled flesh. Made only from a logical standpoint, it was her intellect that made an armchair theory into a practical power to use.
But if others would argue, simply having one brand-new technique will not suffice...
[Kabuki]
"She's go-"
Shing
...
..
.
"The boss should be arriving pretty soon, just hold her off until he ge-"
Shank
...
..
.
"!!"
A man in a suit burst into the room, his breath ragged and his chest heaving as if he had been running for miles. He froze at the threshold, eyes wide with shock.
It was nightmarish—crystal shards glinted in the dim light, slick with blood, and strewn across the floor like confetti.
The crystal dolls remained in the air as if controlled by an invisible puppeteer. The air was thick with the scent of iron and the sound of crystals scraping against concrete. The man could only stand there, his mind and his heart pounding in and out of his ears.
Hurriedly, he'd scramble through his pockets and gripped firmly on the card. Thick and firm, he held it to the side of his ear, speaking in whispers:
"Boss, there's an Intruder. We need your assistance."
"Caught wind of it already, I know. Just place the card on the floor." multiple sounds were heard on their end, "I'm just next to the pool room."
"On it, boss." doing what he was told before circles of magic would appear. His eyes stared at the darkness of the room he just witnessed terror from.
Yet, with a glint of glass, he found his eyes staring down at his neck. Finding the chill of the crystal hit his cheek, his mind could only dream of what such unspeakable.
Seconds only to this attack, the delayed guardian would arrive, their hands raised to block the incoming blow, the door frame blown out of proportion from the impact.
"It was you, huh? It must be you...."
Godspeed was her Investiture. It allowed fast movements and control over electricity. Yet, for a body that was already beaten up and broken, using Glass to create coverings wasn't going to do. The dolls were recycled attacks and only Spring was the only thing keeping her moving.
That is Kabuki.
Aiding the movement through recreating the use of muscles, joints, and bones, whilst using the blowback of Spring for bursts of movement with minimal use on her Investiture.
Less pain is great and all.
But being in pain already doesn't do much justice.
"No wonder why we weren't getting reports." they said, "I never wanted the possibility of En being killed in the line of work. Dying of senescence was fine but..." summoning many ghastly hands from a card that appeared out of nowhere, "...he was the best among all of us."
Yoshioka would raise her hand leftwards, the company of dolls forming back into her cane to prepare for an overhead swing.
The card, however, would be thrown up. A candled chandelier would form from the ceiling, burning it into ashes. Its smoke would spread throughout as its blinding light made the girl hold her hand out, the air pushed back to clear the grey mist. Above, the boss dropped this chandelier, hoping to crush her down.
Yet, this was far too simplistic.
Sending one small doll, she sent a beam of light from the glint of the bulbs of the room, almost stopping this attempt.
To her side would be the boss themselves, however, a decoy used for a chance at close quarters. One whom she would kick with her good right leg, but sidesteps into another card, sending it right to her neck.
Swapping hands with the cane, she narrowly parries this and breaks her weapon, using the elasticity to extend it past and reconnect each broken piece, yet met with a hand that flew past her attention.
"Apart from those dolls, she doesn't have many options."
Crack
Other than refracting the light via the doll, glass carries one more annoying trait. Its reflective properties make it the perfect mirror. Making the boss only see themselves upon impact. Turning back, their hand had a card snuck beneath their sleeve, as the girl was readying her cane for a thrust.
"Hmph."
Often, battles have some plans and more failed ones, as the brain can only react to what it can see. And even if they could, one skewer can mess with their perception overall. Much like the old saying.
Everybody has a plan...
[Point Blank]
With the cane elongated to pierce through them, the dolls would begin eating away from their insides, slicing in-to-out, and making his intestines fly out before their arms and torso were sliced into sashimi. A far far befitting end than their henchmen.
...until they get punched in the face.
...
..
.
"Today on Chive O' Clock, the infamous bar establishment at Nagomi: "The Clear Spool" was mysteriously taken down. In a shocking turn of events, the notorious "Clear Spool" bar in Nagomi has been found in ruins this morning. Police arrived at the scene following an anonymous tip and were met with a horrific sight. Over 60 male bodies were discovered inside the establishment, each bearing similar, gruesome injuries.
The circumstances surrounding the incident are shrouded in mystery. There were no signs of forced entry or struggle, leading investigators to believe that the victims were incapacitated before being fatally attacked. The brutality of the crime scene has drawn parallels to the modus operandi of the elusive Kyushu Criminal, Yāoguài.
While authorities are hesitant to officially link the case to the infamous serial killer, the similarities are undeniable. The public is urged to remain vigilant and report any suspicious activity to the nearest police station.
We will continue to provide updates as this disturbing story unfolds. For now, let's hear from our crime analyst, Detective Kenji Sato, to shed some light on the possible implications of this horrific incident..."
Creakk
Reaching over for the switch, she'd slowly press an arrow pointing down, the sound of the program.
"Miss Yoshioka, yes?" asked a voice, bearing a white uniform.
The girl nodded.
"Gladly, your injuries are..." taking a seat, "...well, they surprisingly are healing relatively quickly. Just maintain vitamin intake and consumption of vegetables. Your body will mend itself in due time."
"Thank you, doc..."
"Don't thank me..." he stood up, "Thank your genes. You're lucky to have very great parents."
"I... I will, doc. Thanks..." she paused and giggled a little, "I said thanks again, huh..."
....
Things don't necessarily settle down even if weeks go by. For the world, that is, mere weeks are but seconds towards the history of the world. Nay, there wouldn't be any to bear witness to anything that had happened there.
Sigh
"Brother...." she closed her eyes, "I don't know why but... I truly miss you...."
Glancing up at the window, the sun still not yet rising from the downpour.
"How many times have I said that...."
Even with dreams like those.
"I can't help but notice, hehe..."
Over to her bandaged arms, she looked, holding that precious shard and bringing it close to her chest.
"No matter what they say. Always...
....I will always love you, big brother."