—SeEEerOo~ Are you awake yet?
Sero Hanta snapped out of his deep sleep once more, awakened by the cold, dangerous sensation of a sharp edge sliding along his thigh.
The disgusting voice of the disgusting girl who constantly played with him penetrated his consciousness, entering like an unwelcome guest.
His sunken, tired eyes met the girl's sharp teeth, smiling lips, flushed cheeks, and eyes flashing with both passion and madness. He was not surprised, startled, or frightened.
He looked at her as if he didn't care, his gaze focusing on his own indifferent reflection in Toga Himiko's contracted pupils.
—Huh? Are you feeling alright? You're dimmer than usual... Maybe you need more food, or water?— she interrogated, sounding concerned, coming closer than necessary and grabbing his cheeks to inspect him.
The warm touch of her hands brought Sero nothing but repulsion, but he resisted the urge to grimace or make any other movement. He was unwilling to give this bitch anything else.
—Goodness!— she exclaimed, scrunching up her face, letting go of Sero and backing away. —What you need is a bath, buddy!
—...
Sero remained in stoic silence, looking at her without seeing her.
—I mean, I know you stink because nobody has wanted to waste time washing you or supervising you to do it yourself, but you should still avoid sweating so much. You'll never find a girlfriend that way, you know~
The blonde continued her chatter, as if giving valuable lessons to her captive.
After a while of talking to herself, Himiko looked at the boy again and frowned in disgust at receiving no reaction from him.
Lately, Sero hadn't been very receptive to her presence. From confusion to fear, from fear to anger, and from anger to indifference, like an empty shell that was once lively.
It wasn't fun anymore.
—Hey... Don't leave me talking to myself. I make a great effort to come here every day, even twice a day when I'm not busy. A little reciprocity wouldn't hurt, you know.
—...
—Did I do something wrong? Did I bother you with something? You can tell me, we're friends after all!
—...
Himiko's cheerful smile gradually faded, the bright, provocative gleam in her eyes dimming, the air of familiarity turning into coldness.
—Do you think you can keep up that indifferent facade for long?— she asked tentatively, stepping closer.
—Do you think ignoring me is going to stop me from trying to have fun with you?— She pulled out a knife from somewhere in her attire, skillfully balancing it in her hand.
—Do you think I'll get bored of you!?— Himiko exclaimed, lashing out with a swift and sudden stab.
The boy did not flinch, stir, or even blink. He gave Himiko no reaction despite the metal edge stopping centimeters from his neck.
His breathing remained calm, his posture relaxed. Sero had broken.
—Tch, I guess this is where it ends, huh?— the girl murmured, toying with the knife for a while and looking at the hostage with a thoughtful, disappointed expression.
She lifted Sero's chin with the knife, forcing him to look up at her. An understanding smile decorated Himiko's lips; she leaned down and gave the boy a kiss on the forehead.
Then she waved her hand and plunged the blade into Sero's thigh with a wet sound.
There was a slight twitch in the muscle, but Himiko knew it was a natural response. Besides that, she found no trace of recognition from Sero Hanta and determined that he was irreparably broken.
Before the girl could withdraw the knife and leave the room, a sudden feeling of discomfort assaulted her chest, rising slightly through her neck and causing her a mix of tickles and unease.
Her face contorted, and she gasped, covering her mouth and letting out a rather cute sneeze, if there were someone willing to appreciate it.
But it didn't stop there.
—Achoo!— she sneezed again. And again, and again, and once more.
As if an allergy were attacking her indiscriminately, the Villain coughed and coughed, snot and tears escaping from her nose and eyes without the sensation diminishing. The itching in her nose was unbearable, and breathing became difficult.
Unbeknownst to her, particles of sand and iron dust barely infused with residual chakra were activating upon entering the influence zone of a huge concentration of Magnet Release.
On the outskirts of the hideout, Tetsumaru's mind was concentrating to the maximum as he commanded with his perfect control for the chakra to spread in waves throughout the cloud of particles interconnected by his magnetic field.
The shinobi couldn't describe exactly how he was able to differentiate his Satetsu from other metallic materials. He simply could.
Perhaps because of the omnipresent chakra infused in his seals, chakra that belonged to him, chakra that bathed the stored Satetsu.
A chakra that, despite being his, seemed to be alien to that of his body.
Regardless of that, that deep-seated energy resonated as soon as he or his sand approached, probably thanks to the magnetic fields deployed and the familiarity of the energy itself.
—I found them, Aizawa-Sensei. They are down there— Tetsumaru said, gathering the spread-out cloud of particles that kept consuming his reserves non-stop. He had already become severely weakened from forming so many consecutive Rasengan and was operating at very low capacity.
Eraser Head, who had been trying to maintain a stern expression with visible difficulty, focused his gaze on the selected location and quickly informed those in charge of the rescue itself.
—Well done, Tetsumaru. Now get our butts out of here and let's get those injuries of yours checked out— the Hero and Teacher ordered, fixing his eyes on the bloodstain and the torn fabric on the shinobi's shoulder.
—... I understand— Tetsumaru nodded, feeling conflicted about the idea of leaving after reaching this point. But he didn't have many options.
He couldn't afford to mess up on the last step. He had already contributed what he could without being a Professional; he assumed and fulfilled his responsibilities as he had demanded of Aizawa himself when they returned from the camp.
It was better not to force things and fail miserably. It was the right thing to do, the most sensible thing.
With a sigh, the shinobi moved the sand platform and left the area.
In any case, he had already spotted a blue, red, and yellow blur approaching at a ridiculous speed from a distance, and he had undoubtedly already been informed of his discovery.
Back inside the hideout, Himiko was sneezing for the thousandth time, now lying on the floor with one hand clinging to her sore stomach and a sea of snot, saliva, and tears staining her face.
With one last, weak sneeze, the cursed sensation vanished as suddenly as it came, without the exhausted girl noticing the dark particles lying on her snot.
She gasped for air with evident relief, slowly recovering from the horrific experience.
While this was happening, Sero stared intently at the knife still stuck in his thigh with a dangerous gleam in his eyes.