The ringing in her ears remained long after the iron door stopped shimmering.
Graham's body stilled.
The only other sound was the faint echo of a screech as a wave of wind swept against the metal cap in front of them.
But she couldn't hear it.
She couldn't even hear her own heartbeat.
All she could feel was a deep-seated dread.
Graham's jaw, still agape from the sheer shock of watching his co-worker get incinerated, shook as he crawled up to the door.
"N-No... no... no, no, no..." he whispered, eyes dilated with fear. "J-Juri..."
For some reason, hearing her name made her flinch as her expression slowly melted from visceral shock...
to pure, agonizing disbelief.
Just a moment ago, she was alive.
Just a moment ago, Juri looked younger.
Just a moment ago, she—
{ "Come. You can play with the birds late-" }
Akira's irises shimmered as tears glossed over.
"No..."
"No..."
"No, no, no, no."
A sharp, broken exhale left her.
Graham's eyes slid to her.
"Akira?"
No, she.
{ "—and I look forward to unveiling that potential." }
Another strangled breath.
Tears dragged across her face as her heart smashed itself against her ribs.
Graham's gaze lit up with worry.
"Akira, hey..."
Akira's thoughts cracked into fragments.
{ "It seems we might not need Mr Watkins after all—" }
No.
No, no, no.
...please no.
Her tears choked her as her feet wobbled, taking a hesitant step back.
"I-I can't breathe..."
Her hands covered her mouth as she sank to the floor.
"Oh, God..."
Her breath stole more air than she could use as an ugly sound left her.
She hugged herself.
"Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God..."
The tears fell harder, her nails biting her skin through the fabric of her sweater.
The safe box they were confined in filled to the brim with lavender, deep and desaturated.
Graham's eyes loosened as he struggled to find the strength to even speak.
And all the while, a tiny, broken, shattered laugh left her as blood began staining her sides.
"No, no, she can't—"
Her face melted as her eyes shook.
"Sh-She can't-N-No, no, sh-she—"
Her breath broke into a nasty sob.
The lavender spiked, replacing the faint smell of burning flesh sinking through the cracks with the grieving scent of floral.
Her mind couldn't stop replaying it.
The moment she felt her body leave the ground as she was sent flying into the bunker.
The sensation of shock and confusion when she found herself in Alexander's arms before she looked back just before the door shut...
and she saw a woman's body being-
An ugly sob left her as she curled up.
The floral distress now suffocating in its sincerity.
"Akira, hey—"
"Why?" she cried, curling up into herself, blood trickling down her fingers. "Why would she save me?"
"Akira, listen to me—"
"Sh-She pushed me..."
"She could've..."
"She..."
Her own words betrayed her as she shook, forehead pressed against the floor as she inhaled its dust.
Just a moment ago, Juri was alive.
Just a moment ago, she had told her she'd play with the birds from the center.
Just a moment ago, Akira had been selfish enough to blame her for her suffering.
Her forehead thudded against the concrete as she sobbed.
"Why..."
"Why..."
"Why?"
Thud.
Graham's concern grew.
"Why did you do that?"
Thud.
"Why did you push me?"
Thud.
Graham stood up, eyes worried. "Hey, hey, hey, Akira-"
"Why did you save me?"
Thud.
Wetter.
"Why did you protect me?"
"Akira..."
Thud.
A tiny squelch accompanied the question.
"Why did you save me?" she repeated, her body aching.
"Akira..."
Blood smeared her eyebrow as she bit her lip.
"Why couldn't you save yourself?"
Thud.
"Why didn't you let me burn?"
Thud.
Too hard.
The back of her head stung.
"Why didn't you just..."
{ "—Kisaragi Juri..." }
"let me die?"
"That's enough."
The lad's hand stopped her head from smashing into the already stained floor.
His expression was bleak and tired, as the pain of watching her do that weighed on him.
His hand came up to her back, grazing it.
"Stop..." he murmured. "That's enough..."
Akira's body trembled under his hand.
"Juri—" his voice dipped for a moment.
The shimmer of the violet particles, the only thing that gave them light, hovered above them like fireflies.
"She..." he began, "she wouldn't want you to kill yourself after she'd just saved you, Akira..."
Akira's hands sank deeper.
The sound of droplets painting the floor was louder than her breath.
"M-Mrs J-Juri's..."
"I know, Akira," he whispered, brushing her back. "I know."
That made her eyes soften as quieter tears returned to her sockets.
The taste in her tongue numbed as she finally went slack, her body resigning to the sheer intensity of her breakdown.
"She should've let me die..." she whispered.
Gasp.
"She should've let me die..."
The second wave threatened to spill again.
And it almost did.
If it wasn't for the sharp, clattering sound of metal being pried open that tore through the quiet.
Akira's renewed sob stopped halfway.
Graham's eyes snapped to the door as his body instinctively pressed closer to Akira's curled form.
Light shot into the room.
And then a hand slowly peeled the heavy door open as the light pierced through the dim room's atmosphere.
The pungent smell of smoke and ash hit them first before the figure's face came into view.
Graham's jaw clenched, afraid and uneasy as he held Akira close.
The figure spoke in a calm, deep voice.
"Hayashi. There's two in here."
Akira's eyes widened for a moment as her ears twitched.
Her stuttering breath faltered for a moment as she stayed curled up.
"That voice..."
"I've... heard it before."
Before she could even consciously register it, three people rushed in as they ran into the bunker.
Alexander's gaze flickered with recognition before his grip on Akira loosened.
"Akira, they're—"
"Come on, let's go! We need to evacuate!" one of them said, immediately rushing to help Graham up. "Come on, sir. We'll get you out of here."
One of them stood by the door, their eyes shimmering a deep blue as they assessed the dark room.
"Nothing there, clear."
The other one rushed over to Akira's curled form.
Their fingers stopped just shy of the girl's back as they instinctively retracted.
"Hey, what's wrong? Come on, Sotaru, we need to go! We still have others to evacuate—"
"Sh-She's..." the man, smaller in comparison to the softly curled girl folded in on herself, "She's... a hybrid..."
Both individuals, the one holding Graham and almost out, as well as the one by the door, paused as they hesitated.
Akira's heart sank.
That was the first thing he saw...
Not a survivor who needed help.
Not a student who just watched her teacher die.
Just...
a hybrid.
The smoke kept settling closer, ominous as if to say something was very wrong.
The hesitation was all the hybrid needed to know as she curled deeper, forehead smearing against her own warm blood.
The memory, still fresh and raw, snuck into her mind, rubbing salt on her already bleeding wounds.
{ "—see her as a threat before they see her as a person." }
Because that's right, wasn't it?
Even now...
Even when the stakes were high,
they still—
"What are you guys doing!?" Alexander snapped, shoving himself off the lad holding him up. "So what if she's a hybrid? She still needs help!"
Sotaru, the smallest among them, hesitated before he tentatively placed a hand on her back.
"Ma'am," he said with forced restraint and professionalism. "We need to help you evacuate the area."
The woman didn't respond, her fingers only sinking deeper into her sides as she began crying quietly.
Her voice was ruined and gentle, a sharp contrast to the situation they were going through.
"Please..." she whispered.
The memory of Juri's eyes as she looked at her mere moments before—
Her breath broke.
"please."
"Just let me die..."
Alexander's gaze hardened.
He took a step forward, but then the one who'd helped him up rushed over to her side.
"C'mon, Sotaru," they said, voice firm. "She's injured. We don't know how bad it is."
Sotaru hesitated. "W-Wait, Jukiko, she might—"
"If you don't know how to set your fears aside to help those in need, then you shouldn't be in the Ayanaki Order."
...
Silence.
The young man leaned down to hook her arm over his shoulder. "Sorry, ma'am. We need to get you out of here," he said, refusing to make eye contact.
His eyes snapped to Sotaru. "Help me!"
Alexander answered the call instead.
The two carried her up, her legs still too shaky to fully commit to standing.
Sotaru stood there, conflicted as his eyes brushed over the blood and then the retreating figures.
"W-Wait..."
They didn't.
They made their way outside.
The air around them hit their bodies like heat waves as Graham squinted.
The other two assistants immediately went through the broken surface, searching for any more bunkers or survivors.
Wind blew past, carrying the smell of burning tar and charred stone as his blue eyes finally widened under his lenses.
"Oh... God..."
The sky was a muted aurora of orange and red.
It was as if the sun had set whilst bleeding and caught on fire.
"I've never seen one this bad before..." the blonde murmured to himself as the level ground beneath them vibrated with pulsing thrums.
In the distance, his eyes settled on the distant, dismembered figures of buildings and infrastructure he had once ignored as background art.
And all of this was a serene, quiet university a few minutes ago.
"First, we need to get you guys to an Ayanaki retreat center before we do anything else," Jukiko muttered, his voice concentrated.
As they shuffled forward, Akira's vision, still dizzy from the headbanging, swept across the ground as her mind slurred in and out of her head.
People.
No.
Bodies.
Her classroom blown to bits.
And—
Her pupils shrank as she jerked involuntarily.
The men holding her up tripped as she fell to her side.
"What the hell?"
"Akira?"
Akira's irises shook as her eyes refused to look away from one thing.
Graham adjusted his glasses as he traced her gaze.
And Jukiko's brown eyes followed suit.
"H-Holy... shit..."
Akira couldn't breathe.
Couldn't think.
All she could do was stare.
The smell of burning meat.
The scent of smoke.
And a motionless body's skin burned through layers lay on the floor.
And yet.
That wasn't the most disturbing part.
What disturbed Akira the most...
was the faint groan her ears twitched to as she witnessed it.
Something...
"impossible," Jukiko whispered.
What were they looking at?
A motionless body that was somehow, someway, surrounded by golden and red motes as its head slowly moved.
Its hair had been burned far beyond repair.
Half of its eye hung out its melted socket.
Yet the motionless corpse's fried fingers twitched.
And next to it,
a man with glowing green eyes wearing a jacket with a familiar emblem leaned over with a calm, blank expression on his face.
His hand rested on its body.
Green and red waves of air peeled off his arm like smoke caught in a slow wind.
But that wasn't what Akira noticed first.
What she noticed was the color of his hair.
Redhead.