"Shhh."
Dame Airi raised a gauntleted fist, and like obedient little chess pieces, we froze. I strained my ears and—silence? Then the forest groaned, long, slow, like an iron lung collapsing or a door that hadn't been opened since the plague years.
"Krrrrrrrscht… Whoooooo… areeeee… youuuuuuu?"
A mangled voice slithered through the trees, warped and broken, cracking apart into shrieks of hysterical laughter that rattled the canopy.
Nope. Nope nope nope nope. Forget haunted houses, haunted forests are an even bigger no-thank-you. I'm a doctor. Not a priest nor an exorcist. If you want holy water, I can offer saline.
Luckily for me, I didn't need to fight.
Dame Airi's rapier flew from its scabbard, a stray beam of sunlight kissing the blade before shadows snatched it away. Midori's hand gave mine one last squeeze before she let go, grabbing her crossbow from its tether and loading a bolt.
Dame Airi turned to us and mouthed the words, 'run'.
We bolted, tall grass and roots whipping at our legs. My breath hitched and the pack Midori had given me thumped against my side like it was reminding me, 'Hi, doctor, you're squishy.' Lilith's smaller frame blurred beside me, keeping pace better than I expected.
Then—
CRACK.
It was the sound of a branch breaking… above us?
Before I could squeak, Midori shoved herself in front of me. Her crossbow was at her shoulder before my brain could even process.
A flash of movement burst from the foliage and—
TWANG.
Midori's crossbow bolt hissed away into the leaves like a vengeful hornet.
"Don't stand there, Ms. Hiyomi—MOVE!"
I tried, I really did, but my legs were staging a mutiny, freezing in place. ""I—I'm trying!"
"Damn it—Ms. Lilith, behind me!"
Airi blurred forward, her red hair singing alongside her rapier to meet the threat.
The laughter only crescendoed wildly, shrill and scraping against my skull. "Oooooooooh EHEHAHAHAHhHAHHEHehaheahHAHHAHA."
Running into our attacker head on, Airi's blade blurred into a storm of liquid silver, every arc of her rapier a flare in the dark. Whatever she fought moved just as fast—like a shadowy smear.
"I'm up!" Midori yelled, snapping another bolt into place. Airi broke away, sprinting back, leaving the thing wide open for Midori.
The thing lunged—
*TWANG—Thunck*
—and dropped, screaming.
I cringed. Its cry sounded wrong—almost like a human's. It screamed and shrieked for several painfully long seconds before it collapsed in a grotesque sprawl, limbs flung out like a broken marionette.
Lilith whimpered. My chest heaved. Some sick, traitorous curiosity bubbled up—what was it? What was the monster that had attacked? Dame Airi hadn't said anything other than that she couldn't describe them. I wanted to see. Call it professional instinct. I mean, come on, if it's bleeding, I can at least… catalog it?
Check its anatomy, maybe?
I leaned forward, but Midori clamped her hand over my eyes.
"Don't. This isn't something you should see, Ms. Hiyomi."
"Wha—H-hey!" My voice was humiliatingly small as unsteady breaths and ragged gasps for air broke up every word. "I-I'm not *gasp* some kid you need to—!"
"The doctor will have to get used to this," Dame Airi cut in frostily. "You can't coddle her, Ms. Midori."
Midori's glare could've drawn blood on its own, but she swallowed whatever was about to come out.
Dame Airi took Midori's silence for agreement.
"We agree then," Dame Airi said coolly, sliding her rapier back into its sheath. "Either way, we need to move. They know we're here now."
Almost as if on cue, the forest answered her words with a chorus of howls. They sounded everywhere, spiraling and dripping through the trees, layering over one another until the sound became a suffocating wall that pressed against my ears.
I shivered. "You keep saying they. Who's 'they'? I mean, I have some idea, but…"
Dame Airi and Midori exchanged looks.
"..."
I puffed my cheeks. "Fine. Keep your secrets. Don't tell the slow running doctor about the monsters until they're chewing on her arm, sure, why not…"
Dame Airi's eyes slid to Midori. They were glazed over, as if she were forcibly drawing a curtain between them as she spoke. "Your call, Ms. Midori."
Midori's jaw tightened. "...They're—"
"They're the same voices you heard last night," Dame Airi cut her off smoothly—and hey, maybe that was her way of taking that Midori had given permission to tell me now, but rude, much?
The commander continued, her tone now much more matter-of-fact than the shivering wreck that'd described them to Lilith and I last night. "Which you already knew. Twisted abominations of humanity."
(Great. Still doesn't answer my question… ever heard of a description?)
The words hit Midori harder than I expected. Midori froze—not in a stoic way, but like someone had just yanked the rug out from under her. Her hands shook. She bit her lip, trembling, fury leaking through her composure.
"I—tch." She bit her lip, trembling with fury.
I blinked. I'd never seen Midori like this….
Airi caught Midori's gaze and turned away. Her rose-red ponytail snapped as if to dismiss Midori entirely. "Say what you will. The truth doesn't change. Nor will it ever. Coddling someone will only—"
Midori's voice cracked as she flinched forward ever so slightly. "You don't get to—" She stopped herself, shaking, lips pressed tight.
"Midori, it's okay—" I reached for her, unsure.
Then she broke.
"It's this same fucking arrogance that got your sister killed, Haneul!"
Oh. Oh, shit.
What the fuck?
The words slammed into me like a gut punch. Sister? Wait—Airi had a sister? And Midori—what exactly was she to that sister? Best friend? More than that? Were they dating And me—what the hell did that make me? Third wheel? Fourth wheel? The spare tire?
The forest held its breath with us. Airi whirled, eyes blazing. "Say that again."
Midori trembled, barely holding herself upright. "You loved her, didn't you? Don't pretend you were the only one who cared. Your damned arrogance of truth. You know what she meant to me—"
"Don't you dare." Airi's hand snapped to her rapier.
Oh shit oh shit oh shit. My brain scrambled to diagnose the situation, but there's no bandage for this. I shoved myself between them, hands up. "P-Please, stop! This isn't—!"
"Stay out of this, Ms. Hiyomi!" Midori snapped, voice raw.
Lilith flinched at the storm breaking between them, but her hand darted out, catching Airi's arm. Her voice was small and pleading. "Enough. P-please… I don't know what happened, but…"
My throat tightened. Midori resisted when I pried her fingers off her crossbow—then let it go, shoulders slumping.
"We don't have time for this," I whispered shakily. "Please."
Neither of them answered. They just turned away from each other like magnets flipped the wrong way.
I caught Lilith's wide, scared eyes. She was thinking the same thing as me: whatever had cracked open between Midori and Airi… wasn't sealing shut anytime soon.
And for once—just once—I was afraid I wouldn't be enough to stitch it back together.
- - -
Eventually, we started back out in silence that was… much too quiet for my—or anyone else's tastes.
Lilith still followed behind Dame Airi, her grey robes fading into the shadows of the underbrush and trees like a ghost. Lilith's pained expression pressed me in the heart.
I needed to find a way to resolve the fracture between Dame Airi and Midori—even if it was just a temporary fix until we can get home and talk it out, it would be necessary since we need to be working together to save the outpost.
I shivered.
Midori and Dame Airi were both striding forwards deeper into the forest, following the faint traces of the screams, but they didn't spare each other a single glance.
Midori was silent, too silent, as every single of her actions carried a carefully bridled fury, mixed with…a lingering sadness? I couldn't tell. I was never good with emotions—usually when people come in to General Brooke, they were either in pain, in tears, or really pissed—if not all of the above. Sometimes they were unconscious too…
Fuck.
I really wanted to offer Midori a hand, but the thought of Dame Airi's (late) sister lingered in my mind. What was her relationship with Midori? It sounded like they were close by the way Midori spoke—how close?
Were they best friends, or something else?
…If it was the latter, then… Why am I here? I'd be a shitty human being for loving someone and trying to make moves on someone who was still reeling from loss.
Even a simp like me wouldn't be morally okay with that.
Time passed as we followed the anguished cries of the monsters—all four of us. While I wasn't a scaredy-cat, I still cringed with each howl. The laughs that I heard dripped like languid tears down my spine.
My legs throbbed—this time from all the time I'd been walking. Midori's endurance potion had long since worn out.
How much further was it to their source?
…At least the cries were getting louder—we were getting close to our objective. But with Midori and Dame Airi fighting, would we be able to really do anything at all…?
- - -
[Dame Haneul Airi, the Commander's POV]
As they walked, Dame Airi tried to turn her attention elsewhere—anywhere, really, other than the subject of her failure.
Pad, pad, pad…
Their feet shuffled through the underbrush, along twisted and gnarly roots and blackened moss. It was the only noise beside the breathing of their party.
Dame Airi was the one in the front in their group and led the way, pairing the faint echoes of the abominations' cries in the distance with previous scout reports, leading them closer and closer to their destination.
Her gloved hand brushed over the bark of a scarred tree as she passed. It was a familiar mark from a past scouting route.
Dame Airi took a deep breath and tried to pull from memory the latest reports of the monsters' movements.
However, with Midori here, the receptionist's brown hair swishing behind her, Dame Airi couldn't think.
The mission should have been simple. The sergeant had left for a reason. Left her for a reason, and now they were forced back together, side by side as if everything between them hadn't happened.
Dame Airi's rose quartz eyes began to glow faintly as thoughts scrolled through her mind, a pattern akin to veins on the stone painting itself across her irises. Slowing slightly, she unconsciously clutched the hilt of her rapier, feeling the solid steel as a name rose in her chest. She swallowed hard. Rena. My sister.
Dame Airi's jaw set, and for a moment her eyes flickered with faint light as her thoughts churned.
She thought back to their constant arguments that had taken place ever since after the incident. Dame Airi shook her head. No matter what Midori insisted, she knew it hadn't been her fault, nor her arrogance, nor any of her commands.
Her battle-scarred boots felt heavier, sinking into the moist soil and grass and leaf litter and moss.
Dame Airi had only spoken the truth that day, and there was no arrogance in truth. She was a knight, bound by oath, by cause. If anyone was arrogant, it was Midori. Midori, who had questioned, who had hesitated, who had—
Her throat clenched. No. Stop. I can't blame Midori. What if it was me after all? What if it was my words, my command, and my pride that killed Rena?
Tch.
Her hand found the ornate lip of her rapier's sheath.
She could end this. All of it.
Dame Airi suddenly became hyperaware of the breathing of Midori, Lilith, and the Doctor behind her, unsteady, strained from all the trekking. The thumps of their boots were uneven and even their footfalls sounded exhausted.
Dame Airi knew the terrain well enough; she could dispatch everyone here before they had time to blink. Midori would have to go first—sergeant or no sergeant, Airi could still probably read her like an open book. Then Lilith. Then the Doctor.
It would be so simple. Her knight's oath itself would sanction vengeance—for Rena. For the dishonor of their failure. For the betrayal of all she held sacred.
And yet…
Her grip slackened and her fingers trembled against the metal. Would it really be justice? Or just a way to hide that I was the one who failed?
Midori coughed behind her. Dame Airi ignored the crude noise.
Then there was a scary thought—that she should apologize. She should turn and face Midori and say it—say that maybe it had been her fault, say that she was sorry. The words burned at the back of her throat.
Sorry or not, nothing can bring back Rena now, she thought bitterly.
Just as she thought that, her armor closed in around her again—the armor of command, of duty, of a knight's conscience that could never bend, that could never admit weakness. She ground her teeth and forced the apology down, swallowed into silence as she followed the cries of the creatures in front of them, keeping a weary eye out in the mottled foliage for threats.
Her eyes stung.
No… they didn't sting. They were wet.
A tear slipped free before Dame Airi even realized.
She hadn't cried in years. She wiped it away with the cold steel of her gauntlet, almost startled by her own reflection in the sheen.
"Me…?" she whispered under her breath so that the others couldn't hear.
Why was she crying when it should be so simple? If she wanted revenge, she could take it. If she believed that she was blameless, she would feel nothing.
And yet here she was, wavering.