Night 52: F11-F20 Hallway

[lookitmemama.livejournal.com]

Asuka had almost missed the eerie, parting words of the head doctor as she hustled around her room. Everything had been eaten so she would have plenty of energy to burn all night. Her roommate never returned to the room, which was more than fine with Asuka. It gave her free reign to bustle around their compact prison cell, grabbing her baseball bat from the wardrobe against the wall, as well as her red jersey Junpei had given her. She wrinkled her nose every time she saw it, but it was her favorite shade of red. It made her stand out and that was very important. The eva pilot also remembered to take along her radio this time after Okita had stressed how important it was.

Since there had yet to be any regular pattern from the nurses suddenly walking in after dinner was handed out, Asuka was confident her preparation would not be discovered. True, her roommate could walk in any minute along with her resident vulture, but the head doctor's broadcast was already running. It wasn't likely she was here any longer. It was the same superficial yammering as the night before and the night before that, so the redhead didn't bother paying much attention. The institute grew silent and dark soon after as Asuka tugged her jersey on over her regular uniform. It was in her struggle that she heard the strange chuckle and the ominous message thereafter.

Well, it was either for them or for another person in his office. Either way, it seemed this night might get interesting. It was hard to manage, but Asuka successfully grabbed her flashlight, radio, and baseball bat before leaving her room for the main hallway.

[To here]

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[willing-sheath.livejournal.com]

“Just a trick?” Tomoe’s shadow repeated. “Am I?” It may have been responding to Kenshin’s words, but its attention was focused on its owner, that sneer never quite leaving its lips. Unlike the specter of Hitokiri Battousai, whatever incarnation was before her had no qualms its distance from her, slowly edging closer. It was still a shadow, parts of it undefined and smoky, but its face and hands were clear, seemingly solid. It was Tomoe and yet not Tomoe—certainly not dressed in the Landel’s patient uniform, but in a typical kimono. But even that wasn’t quite right, the collar of the garment loose and slipping slightly open toward one shoulder.

Tomoe found herself pressed to Kenshin’s back again, her heart thundering in her chest as she tried to process what was happening. How could this be a trick—when they were both hearing everything… both seeing everything? When they were in a place that not only had harnessed the power to bend space and time but to defy death itself… claiming it to be ‘a trick’ seemed like a desperate false hope.

“So you’re going to cling to him now as if you deserve his protection?” it gave a low feminine laugh. “Haven’t you done enough damage?” In a rush of darkness the specter moved forward, stopping just a hair away from her, one of the shadow’s wiry hands setting against her neck and jaw, the other gripping her shoulder to hiss, “You destroy everything you touch--”