Breakdown

[The Director]

Food. She was offering him food?

That crazy chick Inada had threatened him with a fucking grenade, the annoying little dangirl Minami had held him up at gunpoint and after all their false pretences, did they give any SEMBLANCE of an apology!? Oh no, they didn't give a fuck about being wrong, they just went on their merry way as if they had not just made him damn near wet his pants with their demands.

Tatsumichi's nerves and temper, already considerably frayed, snapped momentarily. It was only to be expected really. He was tired, he'd just gone through a very stressful situation and he was considerably on edge. In any other circumstance a flare of anger, a slightly short reply would have been taken just fine. Not so here.

Oki gave Minami, purely because she was closer, a one-handed shove and growled at the pair of girls. "'Sorry for pointing a gun at you Oki' would be nice!"

[MurderWeasel]

Kaori came over to Mizuho and threw her arms around her. That gave Mizuho pause for a second. It shook her, in a way. It was a sudden connection to the real world, the world from before. Kaori was still Kaori, still the nervous, pop-star-obsessed girl from school. She still was not externally strong, though Mizuho knew a true warrior's spirit lurked within the short girl. Mizuho held Kaori as she cried, and then, when the girl mentioned Megumi, she said, "I know, Kaori, I know. She should be here. We won't let whoever s-stopped her... we won't let them get away with it. I'll make things right for Megumi."

There. That was a promise, a pledge, a solemn vow. Megumi's killer would be caught. Mizuho would make things right. She would protect Kaori and she would avenge Megumi and then... then nothing mattered. That was enough. The world would be right. Balance would be restored. If they could escape, that would be optimal, but if not, then Mizuho would carry Kaori through to the end, and then she would walk into a danger zone or something. Charge the school, perhaps, screaming in defiance. That seemed the noblest way to go.

Kaori went to pick up her stuff, and Mizuho nodded, saying, "I'll get mine too."

And then, it all went to pieces. Mizuho walked to her bag and picked it up. She had completely forgotten the grenade in the moment, left it lying there on the floor, red and crusty with blood, totally unattended. She had let her guard down, convinced that everything was going to be okay. She had forgotten all about Tatsumichi. And then he was growling at them, and, and he'd shoved Kaori. He'd reached out and pushed her. Pushed around the person Mizuho had decided to protect with her life. That was a bad move. She stared at Tatsumichi, uncomprehending for a second, and then something inside of her shut down. Perhaps it was her ability to reason rationally. She smiled a wide, toothy smile, and said, in a sweet, singsong voice, "That wasn't very nice, Oki. After all, you are still at our mercy. We're armed, and all you've got is that dartboard."

Then Mizuho realized that they weren't armed. The grenade was on the floor, closer to Kaori and Oki than it was to her, and that thing about Kaori having a gun had been a bluff.

The second grenade, the one in her bag, was completely forgotten.

[Gwbiii*]

Kaori had one goal in mind, get back into the attic, grab her bag with the food, teddy and everything else, and get out. She couldn’t focus on that for long though. She’d barely taken a couple of steps before the brutish boy had shoved her. She almost toppled over as she staggered to the side. It wasn’t the heaviest blow ever but she really didn’t have the weight to resist it.

Scratch that. She’d somehow managed to step on the hem of her skirt while regaining balance. Kaori landed hard against the carpet with her forearm, squealing unintentionally as she went. From her new, lower, perspective she could see a recognisable metallic orb within arm’s reach.

Kaori snatched the grenade lying in front of her and stuffed it away. Mizuho must’ve forgotten it, she’d give it back once she’d worked out what had knocked her over.

Though the answer to that was readily apparent. Oki was angry. That explained it. That explained it pretty well. He wasn’t the only one. She’d had just about enough of stupid boys poking and teasing her. Running past and pushing her over in the playground without so much as an apology. That was in the distant past, mostly, but now all those feelings welled back up like she was a particularly warm, shaken, soft drink bottle.
She stood back up, carefully this time. The small girl took a deep breath and started to give Oki a piece of her mind. Mizuho could be subtle, but that wasn’t really Kaori’s forte.

“Y… you know what? Fuck. You.” She was surprised she’d said that, she hadn't sworn in... well… forever. And definitely not to someone’s face. “Y-you’re nothing but a b-bully, Y-y-you think you’re so smart pushing l-little K-Kaori around but you’re not. You’re stupid. D-dumb, dumb-ass. Moron.” She smirked and took a step towards him. He wasn’t so big. “R-really stupid. You want an apology? Here.” She stuck out her forefinger and made a pistol shape with her hand, pointing it at the boy.

“I-I’m sorry for pointing this gun at you m-mr Oki. It w-won’t happen again.” The smirk widened, revealing the gums of her upper teeth. “S-so stupid.”

[The Director]

Oki wasn't the brightest of guys. Were he a little smarter, he would have perhaps been able to see that blowing his top at two girls wasn't the best idea in the world, especially with them being both edgy and both arms. But Oki wasn't that clever and he was in no mood to be reasonable besides, not after the stress he'd suffered, not after the frankly terrifying incident that had just happened.

And as such, Mizuho's words only wound him up even more. He was telling the TRUTH this entire time about not being armed, and not only did they not apologise, but they saw fit to start threatening him again just because he was annoyed about the whole thing. Well, they could fuck off. He was getting the hell out of dodge and shove that grenade right up their-

...What.

There wasn't a gun at all? There wasn't a FUCKING gun!? He'd been scared out of his mind and she'd not even had a real piece on him!?

Okay, that just fucking did it.

Oki launched himself at Kaori with a roar, going low, driving his shoulder into her abdomen, with the size difference, crunch time would not be pleasant.

[MurderWeasel]

The last thing Mizuho was prepared for was for Kaori to tip their collective hand and reveal to Oki that there was no gun. As soon as it happened, Mizuho knew that things were not going to end well. Oki would not appreciate being deceived, and Kaori was too close. Granted, she had a weapon now—the grenade, left it there, stupid stupid stupid, pay more attention, at least Kaori noticed—but would that really help? No. No, they were too close.

Oki lunged at Kaori, and Mizuho just stood there, just stood and watched. What could she do? She didn't have a weapon at hand. Could she lunge in? Just dive in and start tearing, rip Oki to pieces with her bare hands? No, that wouldn't work. Not at all. He was bigger, stronger. This was it. They were doomed. Oki had been lying the whole time. He had killed Keita, and now he would kill Kaori and Mizuho. No. No, it couldn't end like this. Mizuho could not die here. She had to protect Kaori. She had to avenge Megumi. She was not going to be killed by Oki. No. She was not going to be killed by Oki.

She turned and ran out of the room, ran to the kitchen. She had to find something, anything, to beat Oki down with. She looked around, everything a red, adrenaline-fueled haze. Had there been anything that would work? She had looked in the kitchen earlier, but not with the intent of finding a weapon. Stupid. She should have known, she should have been prepared. How could she have been so idiotic?

It descended on her instantly, the answer. Of course she'd been stupid. Of course she'd missed things. For all her pretending, for all her imaginings, for all her slips, she was still Mizuho Inada, still the geeky, silly girl with the big imagination. Mizuho Inada would never be able to save Kaori. Mizuho Inada would never be able to avenge Megumi. Mizuho Inada was nobody, nothing, a fifteen year old girl with no abilities and no bravery and no hope.

And something inside of her broke, and she smiled.

She smiled because she knew that she was only Mizuho Inada if she chose to be. She was only that weak girl because she let herself be forced into the role. How long had it been bubbling beneath the surface? How long had her real identity been trying to break loose? Forever, probably. It had always lurked in the back of her mind, always whispered that there was more to her, more to the world, than anyone let on. It wasn't just imagination, it was reality.

Prexia reached up and grabbed her crystal necklace. Her entire revelation had taken no more than thirty seconds. There was noise from the other room, but she couldn't tell what. Whatever. She had a job to do. She scanned the kitchen, and saw a frying pan. It was hanging on the wall, in plain sight. It would do. She grabbed it and headed back to the room at a run. She was apprehensive (not afraid; warriors felt no fear) that her dithering around had been enough to end her purpose, had been enough to give the enemy the edge he needed to slay her fellow warrior. If that had happened, if was on her, her previous weakness.

She stood in the doorway and surveyed the scene, trying to decide how to handle the situation.

[Gwbiii*]

Kaori hadn't expected Oki's reaction. Before she knew it her midsection was being crushed between the ground and the boy's weight. With the air thrust out of her she barely managed a broken scream as his weight shifted on top of her, pinning her against the carpet.

"MIZUHO! HEEELP!"

Where was she? Oh god where was she? She was going to be killed or raped or maimed and her friend either didn't know or didn't care. She'd have to get out of this herself. Thrashing around didn't do her any good, the bastard was just too heavy. Kaori desperately reached into her pocket to grab something to protect herself with, and, grasping the handle-ring of the scissors she yanked them out. She was going to stab this asshole in the neck. She could get control. He was going to pay for this, oh yes. She tried to get a better grasp on the hilt of the scissors, get some leverage to stick it into his fucking spine, but was met with empty space. It was just a ring with a tang attached, like she'd pulled one of the handles off of the scissors, but how the hell did she do that?

Then realisation dawned. Her entire face widened as horror paralyzed her body. She had an armed grenade in her pocket.

""GET OFF GET OFF GET OFF" She started screaming desperately, she had no idea how much time she had left and it felt like it was going to explode any second. With Tatsumichi holding her down she struggled vainly to get her hand back into her pocket. If he hadn’t been putting so much pressure on her arm she’d be there, she’d be able to throw it away. The process was too slow, way too slow, she wasn't strong enough, any second, any extra split second of forced delay and it'd go off. "OH GOD PLEASE NO NO NO NO"

Nothing but cold terror was running through her mind as the grenade exploded, the shrapnel severing her consciousness as savagely as her body.


Ninth Grade/Class B – Girl #20: Kaori Minami: ELIMINATED
18 STUDENTS REMAINING

[The Director]

Tatsumichi didn't really pay much attention to Kaori's cries. They'd probably just be more empty, ignorant insults. The cry for help caught his attention, but only far enough to evince a smirk from him. All Inada had was a grenade, what was she gonna do, blow them all up just to stop him? Hardly likely.

Once he was on top of Kaori and pinning her down though, Oki hesitated after only a couple of strikes. He was still pissed off and the red mist was there, but jeez, this was Minami. Half his size and wearing glasses to boot. Oki shook his head, maybe just one more for good measure. He drew back his fist one last time. Then his eyes caught the little metallic ring around Kaori's finger.

"Oh fuc-"


Ninth Grade/Class B – Boy #3: Tatsumichi Oki: ELIMINATED
17 STUDENTS REMAINING

[MurderWeasel]

Prexia stood in the doorway, calculating a surgical strike. Smash the enemy across the back of the head to daze him, then, when he's distracted and looks up, hit him on the temple. Break his nose, then hit him and hit him and hit him. Simple, right? She took a step forward, and the enemy stopped his assault for a second and started to speak.

And then the enemy and her fellow warrior were gone, engulfed by a flash of burning light, shredded, flesh rent from bones, blood splashed around. Prexia was engulfed in a cloud of gore and shrapnel.

She was lucky, oh so very lucky. The grenade had been under her fellow warrior, who had been under the enemy, and the two bodies had absorbed the majority of the damage. Hadn't she read about this once, in her other life, soldiers in some place called Vietnam throwing themselves upon grenades to save their comrades? It mattered not. She'd still been hurt. Metal shards had lanced the limbs on her left side, the side she'd been leading with. Curiously, she pulled one of them out of her arm. Crimson droplets fell from the shard, from the wound. Her torso had been shielded from the worst of it by the heavy, cast iron pan, which she had just been bringing into position.

Her face had been saved by luck.

It didn't hurt, not yet. No, she wasn't present enough to feel pain. She looked around the room, looked at the pile that had been her best friend, her last remaining friend. The smae pile contained the remains of her greatest foe.

No.

No, that wasn't true. The enemy had not been her greatest foe. He was just unlucky. She saw that now, saw that with all the clarity of hindsight. This fight had been wrong. It had been unholy. That was why she had faced defeat. She had strayed from the path, again and again. She had hidden from herself, hidden from the messengers (the fortune teller had said it so clear, hadn't she?), hidden from the truth. She had proved herself unworthy, inept, and so that which was most important to her had been taken away.

Somehow, on some horrible level that a tiny part buried deep inside her now cried out in revulsion at, she was relieved. With her ally—Kaori, don't hide from it, she was more than that to you—dead—gone, ended, nothing—she would have an easier time with the true goal.

Because, when it came down to it, warriors didn't fight to protect what they loved. No, nobody became a warrior for that. Warriors fought for revenge, for something lost, be it physical or metaphysical. Some fought for lost peace. Some fought for lost honor.

Some fought for lost friends.

But in the end, fighting built nothing. All it did was destroy. It ended. It dismantled. It reset.

Prexia couldn't rest, not yet. She still had somebody to destroy.

((Prexia Dikianne Mizuho continued in 2-1))