Seeing Red [PMMM x LoR]

Ask for help

Yuki blinks wearily. Another hour passes before she actually stirs.

She rises slowly, limbs stiff. Not from stillness, but from numbness of the mind. Her thoughts are scattered as she ponders who to even ask for help.

Oriko is the first she thinks of, but Yuki quickly discards that idea. Junko comes to mind as well, but Yuki does not feel well about going to her after how they parted. Kyoko is with Mami, most likely; Yuki does not want to see Mami right now. Nagisa and Yuma are too young to be helpful.

With nothing forthcoming, Yuki's gaze slowly begins to wander for lack of anything better to do. She soon pauses on her foray into expressionism on the wall, then moves on to Ai's poetry. The mentions of divinity tickle her mind.

Kyoko stayed at a church, did she not?

Yuki stares at the writing on the wall for a long time, caught in indecision. She can not even put into words what makes her hesitate.

In the end, she huffs. Her vision comes back into focus.

"Let's see if god really is dead."

And with those words, Yuki vanishes in a flash of green. She reappears in the now-abandoned church, which looks no different from usual.

Without paying attention to anything else, she climbs the staircase to the central altar. There, Yuki kneels down and clasps her hands.

She has no words to give a higher being, assuming there even is one there.

She is lost. Alone. Cold.

She needs guidance and insight.

She needs someone to speak with.

The light falling through those broken windows steadily changes as Yuki focuses on her feelings. It moves continuously, then eventually turns darker until it becomes orange. The day passes by, yet no heavenly choir responds. No great voice echoes from the heavens. No sudden epiphany presents itself from nowhere.

It is just Yuki, alone with her thoughts. Alone with those paradoxical feelings she wants to get rid of. Only a faint glimmer emanates from the paired crosses on her necklace, and only when the light hits them.

When she finally opens her eyes in disappointment, night is about to fall.

But before she can turn away, Yuki spots something that was not there before; right in front of her faintly sore knees on the ground.

A matchstick, and a slip of parchment.

Picking up both, she feels the parchment curiously. Yuki recognises the City's script, and she can read that this is a train ticket. There is no destination, nor a time of departure. It feels oddly warm between her fingers.

A cold wind blows in through the broken window. Warmth begins to seep from her as she sits in the half-dark; the sky is still faintly bright, even though the sun lowered beyond the horizon now.

Following an instinct not her own, Yuki lights the match.

And for just a moment, she feels warm. Warmer than she has in a long time, if perhaps ever. Like being caught in a gentle embrace, all her needs fulfilled. She does not even know what those needs are, but they are met.

But just a moment later, the cold returns. And after feeling better, the absence of warmth only hurts more.

Yuki shivers, staring down at the still burning match.

She is cold.

And in that cold, even her anger has frozen over. Its flame no longer heats up her body from the inside, leaving her to feel drained.

"Who are you?" she asks the matchstick. "What do you mean to tell me?"

The matchstick, being what it is, does not answer. It simply keeps burning, the flame somehow sucking even more warmth out of her.

Rubbing the parchment between her fingers yields nothing, either.

And in a momentary surge of spite, Yuki brings match to parchment.

The ticket catches fire in an instant. Flames lick at Yuki's hand as she keeps holding it, comfortably warm again. She does not care for the burns, at least the pain helps center her.

A moment later, something massive breaks through the wall. Yuki startles, falling back onto her rear from the sudden cacophony of breaking bricks, engine sounds, and a noise half foghorn and half agonised wail.

The matchstick falls from her hand and goes out. With it go the flames on her hand, just like the ticket dissolves.

Winding around the altar, shining in an otherworldly glow, stands a train. Its wheels bite into the rock through weight alone, several eyes blink and stare at the world from its hull. Trickles of blood seep from beneath the closed compartment doors. And each of its five cars expands and contracts ever so faintly, as if breathing.

Yuki stares at the train. The train stares back.

It somehow emanates a manic energy. As if standing still at all annoys the train.

Yuki, for lack of anything better to do, approaches gingerly. Then she climbs one of the cars and sits down inside. The seats are hard and the tangy, iron scent of blood hangs heavy, but at least she is safe from the wind in here.

The moment Yuki sits down, the doors close and the train starts chugging along. Another wailing sounds to the heavens as it picks up speed, breaks through the front gate, and then races into a tunnel from nowhere.

It becomes darker than night after that. Yuki looks out the window, but there are myriads of colours and no distinct shapes here. Pink and purple, gold and black, blue and red.

"Is this seat taken?" a male voice asks by her side. Looking up, Yuki finds a man with sharp features and dark hair, wearing a pristine white lab coat.

She was the only passenger until just now.

"No. Help yourself."

"Thank you."

He seats himself next to her, apparently unconcerned by Yuki's curious looks.

"What are you?" she asks of him a moment later. "No human could be here."

Wherever 'here' is.

He graces her with a faint smile, understanding yet polite.

"I've come to realise lately that this is the wrong question to ask. Does it matter what I am, so much as who I am?"

"It's not about philosophy, I'm just curious," Yuki deadpans, which prompts a chuckle.

"Of course you are," he agrees, that smile of his still in place. "Truthfully, I don't exactly know the answer at this point. And it honestly doesn't matter right now. I came because you called. What's your name?"

"Yuki. What's yours?"

"Ayin," he introduces himself, and Yuki's eyes widen in recognition. She never met the man, but she would never forget his name.

"You're the founder of Lobotomy Corporation? The man who made Angela?"

She gets a soft nod. Ayin leans back in his seat, though his gaze never fully leaves her as he speaks: "With you being an Abnormality, I guess it makes you'd focus on those things. Yes, I am the one who saw you brought into being. The same is true of Angela, if more directly."

Yuki keeps staring. She has many questions now, most of which do not relate to the situation at all. Ayin himself, the man Angela was ready to torch the world to spurn for.

He does not seem that impressive.

But he must know the answer.

"Can," Yuki starts, then swallows as words fail her. She tries again several times, with Ayin waiting patiently for her.

"Can I change? As an Abnormality, can I change?"

They pass a golden nova and descend into deep blue, yet the lighting within the train car remains the same. Alien stars begin to gleam in the distance, red and orange and pink and navy blue. Their constellations are totally foreign.

"There's no simple answer to that question anymore," Ayin finally says. "When we began, all that time ago, we were certain that Abnormalities were fixed in nature. They acted according to their nature; even if you do the same thing to them ten thousand times, they will always react the same way. The same response to the same stimuli, the same words, actions, scents, and flavours. Some are more complicated than others," he muses, "but you always find a pattern."

"And then there are outliers," Ayin says, making Yuki's drooping form perk up again. He smiles at her, then grasps her hand to squeeze with his own.

"I can only speak of one that I certainly know is capable of independent thought. He could change His mind if He wanted, and has changed before. And I think He is still changing."

He reaches out with the last part, carefully running his thumb along one of the crosses that Yuki carries. It does nothing in response, but the message was received. Whichever Abnormality gifted this to her, Ayin knows its nature.

"And I?" she asks, leaning onto him desperately. "What about me?"

Ayin presses his forehead to hers then, the contact dispersing those thoughts. His hands clasp Yuki's shoulders, spending comfort with a soft squeeze.

"I don't know," he tells her in a soft, awestruck voice. "And that's amazing. Once upon a time, I would've said you can't change, Yuki. But you aren't just the Servant of Wrath anymore. You're more. Just a little bit more. But if you can do even a little bit, then you can keep going. You can evolve."

"But she will be Abnormality no longer," a third voice adds. Faintly amused, dark, and in an even cadence.

When Ayin pulls back to look at the newcomer, Yuki can study her as well. She knows that dark robe, as well as her all-seeing eyes and the tint of gold to her black hair.

"Binah," Ayin greets with the hint of a smile. "What a surprise to see you here."

"I have precious little to do in distant dreams," she answers, idly motioning for the viridian supernova outside. "It will be quite some time until the Librarians can awaken in full once more. Until then, one of the children has sent me this way, and so I appeared. Much like you, Ayin."

"Guilty as charged," he confirms with a faint smile.

"What do you mean?" Yuki interrupts their oddly relaxed reunion. Her crimson eyes seek Binah's, even though the former Arbiter can surely see the depth of her soul through them. "That I won't be an Abnormality anymore?"

Binah's lips curl up, but there is little warmth in her smirk. A cup of fragrant tea manifests in her hand as she settles down, opposite to Yuki and Ayin. She takes a sip while studying the magical girl.

After what feels like hours but is mere seconds, Binah finally answers.

"An Abnormality is defined as an unchanging entity. Manifested from the mind of a human, drawn up from a river that is all of human nature in kaleidoscope. A story given physical form, a concept pronounced enough in the collective human concious that it can take shape."

"Definitions can be changed," Ayin notes in the foreboding silence that follows.

Both women glance at him, but Binah does not seem bothered.

"And yet a proper definition should not bend under the edge cases. An Abnormality with the ability to change is no Abnormality at all. Whether it ever was or simply ceased to be, that is the more relevant question. Which ones are capable of it? Which ones are not? Can all four magical girls change if given the proper conditions, or is it limited to this one? Is, perhaps, a suitably human-like mind required to give them this ability? Could Laetitia? The Child of the Galaxy? Or is it a yet unknown quality. Could the Heart of Aspiration beat for battle no longer?"

Each of these questions has no convenient answer. Yuki knows it. Ayin knows it. And Binah knows as well.

In the end, Yuki lowers her gaze. The point is moot in her eyes, anyway.

"I can't fight my nature," she admits sadly. "A mere memory of her had all my composure break. Without the light, I would've turned then and there. When Oriko betrays me, and I know she will, the Servant will come loose."

"Then it seems that you're an Abnormality after all."

"Binah!"

Ayin's rebuke is sharp, almost a bark, but it fails to deter her. She daintily sips her tea and watches Yuki stare at the ground between them, despondent. Confirmation from the closest thing to a mother she has weighs far deeper than denial from a man she distantly knows.

"You chose a name," Binah breaks the heavy silence after a time. "Why?"

The Magical Girl of Courage looks back up for a moment, then out the window. Colours intertwine before her eyes, then separate again. A rainbow of stars dances, some of them so alien she knows not the names to describe their colouration.

"My translation magic turned 'Courage' into 'Yuki' for the natives of the world I now dwell in. It was a coincidence, I merely kept it for convenience's sake."

Even though she does not look, she can tell Binah's gaze resting upon her. The silence grows heavier and heavier, oppressive to the point Yuki's chest constricts. But she keeps on breathing anyway.

"And what if you were given a new name?"

Yuki freezes, yet her head snaps back to Binah. The far older woman's smirk has gone, replaced with a blank sort of curiousity. She places her cup down with a soft click, hands folded in her lap.

"If it matters not to you, shall I then name you Naftali?"

Ayin takes a quiet breath in response to that, but does not interrupt.

Yuki, meanwhile, feels... conflicted.

The thought of being given a proper name fills her with wonder and warmth. Something to call herself by, rather than a mere title. She never had a name before; or if she had, she forsook it in pursuit of becoming an impartial guardian.

But at the same time, she somehow hates the prospect of not being called Yuki anymore.

Binah and Ayin both read the mental struggle from her face. Yuki's blank expression has broken, revealing the vulnerable indecision underneath.

In the end, Yuki slowly shakes her head. She can not even bring herself to speak, too anguished to be refusing something so precious.

And Binah smiles.

"The journey to find one's true self is not a simple one," she offers, not unkindly. "Few people truly understand themselves, and even those that do may not find the inner strength to grow past their own failings. Each difficult question is a dangerous climb, yet the mountaintop grows ever more distant."

"She's right," Ayin adds gently. He wraps an arm around Yuki's shoulder to offer some more comfort. "Everyone faces these things, not just you. The fact you even try makes all the difference."

"I've given up."

"A journey of a thousand miles begins with but a single step, Yuki," he encourages. "And even once that step is made, the weary traveler may sometimes rest for bread and water. Getting discouraged is normal, losing hope is normal. But it's not the end."

He gently pokes a finger into her chest, right above Yuki's heart.

"Because you can always stand up again."

A tear rolls from Yuki's eyes. Ayin wipes it away before it can fall.

"I don't know if I can do it," she admits, both to them and herself. "It hurts to keep fighting myself. It's tiring. Its cold, and lonely. Is it really worth it?"

The soft whimpers of another echo in her words. The sharp sound of a match being lit underlines her final question. And even though Yuki never met the Scorched Girl face to face, she knows that the other Abnormality shares her feelings.

"Every journey begins with that first step," Binah echoes Ayin. "But only once it concludes, can we claim whether it was worth making. The cycle we deemed unbreakable has been broken, not once but twice. Was the Seed of Light worth it? Was the Library? We still do not know, and we will not be the final arbiters of either question."

Yuki nods, disappointed about the lack of a proper response. But she kind of expected it already.

"What happened to the Library?" she asks next. "The way you spoke of it, Roland lost in the end."

And if he lost, then he is dead. The shard of his essence still within Yuki throbs painfully at the thought.

Somehow, Binah's expression grows more gentle. Most would be fooled, did they not know the beast that lay beneath.

"A miracle," she says, glancing into the distance with fondness. "Roland fought till he could no longer. Even the Red Mist fell before his boundless wrath, boosted as it was by the Library. He ran me through and tore me to pieces, much like he did the rest of the Librarians."

"But when all of us had fallen, so too had his endurance waned. And even though Angela had become vulnerable, she still retained the power to finish the fight."

"And then she chose to spare him."

Yuki's gaze lowered with each sentence Binah spoke. But at the end, she can only look back up in wonder. Angela, the merciless director, being merciful?

"And Roland, in turn, forgave."

The foreign shard in her heart coils up in utter disgust and disbelief. Yuki grimaces, one hand clasping her chest to rub the cramp out of it. Yet the pressure does nothing to alleviate it, even as she works through all the implications.

Angela was the architect of Roland's misery. Even if it was unintentional, she never felt bad about the many people she dragged down with her actions. She sent them against Roland all the same.

For her to show mercy is indeed a miracle. But for Roland to put aside the hatred that carried him so far, that is what Yuki can scarcely believe.

"They're both alive?"

"Yes."

A weight she did not even know she carried is lifted from Yuki's shoulders. She smiles, ever so faintly. Neither of the other two misses it.

"That's good."

She basks in that momentary content, left alone by Binah and Ayin. It almost feels like they share in her joy, fleeting as it is. That feeling dissolves the lump of bad, foreign feelings she still carries. They slither away into the depths of her mind, waiting to remind her how this world is really like.

"Do you think you can keep going now?" Ayin asks her after some time. "Just another step?"

Yuki lowers her head again.

"I don't know," she admits, hands slowly clenching to fists. "But I want to try."

In response, Ayin stands to clear the way.

"Then I think your stop's coming up," he explains with an encouraging smile. "What comes next will be brutal, Yuki."

"I know."

She stands as well, looking up at Ayin with an inscrutable look. He must know answers to many more questions, being the founder of a Wing. But the way he speaks, Yuki feels that he knows more about this, too.

"Where am I headed?"

"The result is insignificant in comparison to the process," Binah notes. Her tea is empty, and she stands as well. "We can both make guesses as to where your path leads, but telling you the destination won't preclude your having to walk the path yourself."

Ayin nods. "It is as she said. I can't make those decisions for you. I merely sowed the seed, but it's up to you to make it sprout."

Yuki glances between the two, unimpressed.

"I notice that you like the sounds of your own voices. A simple 'we don't know' would have sufficed."

Her drawled response rolls off Binah like water, though Ayin chuckles.

"You're right, we don't know. All we have are guesses. It's a personal journey for every one of us. You aren't me, so you won't reach the exaxt same conclusion. But nonetheless, good luck, Yuki."

"Thank you. For everything."

He smiles and takes her hands one final time, squeezing them gently. But the sound of the infernal foghorn steals his words away.

Yuki glances up at the traincar surrounding them; the colours outside begin to smooth out and become recognisable again.

"Where does this train go, anyway?"

At that, Ayin's smile morphs into a mirthful grin.

"Nowhere," he answers. "This train has no final destination. The journey is the goal, and this is the Express Train to Hell. But for Binah and I, well, we have seen and lived in hell already. This can hardly compare."

The foghorn sounds again, now more of a wail than anything else. As if the train itself protests his words. Though only Yuki seems to think so, as neither Ayin nor Binah react to it.

A moment later, they arrive on a patch of green along the river separating Mitakihara from Kazamino. Yuki can see the skyline, bathed in almost gentle neon lights compared to the City's sky.

"Again, thank you. And goodbye," Yuki says, nodding to the two of them before she makes her way to the open door.

"Naftali."

It is but one word, but it stops Yuki in her tracks. Turning back, she finds Binah with one of her nastier, smug smirks. The erstwhile Arbiter takes a single step, cupping Yuki's cheek with a gentleness she should not have.

"Keep the name," she says. "It is yours now. Do with it what you will. Struggle, and persevere. If even something unchanging can evolve under the right circumstances, then there is nothing you won't be able to overcome."

Yuki can not help but smile up at her. Her resolve slowly begins to firm.

"I still like Yuki more," she admits bluntly, "but there's nothing saying that I can't have two names. So if you want to call me Naftali, that's fine with me. Until next time."

Binah's expression smoothes out into a lighter, softer smile. She lets go and stands next to Ayin, the pair watching Naftali disembark.

Not a word more is spoken.

Once Yuki stands on the torn-up lawn, the foghorn sounds one final time. The train emits a cloud of vapour, then begins to move once more; it takes up speed over a hundred metres, then lifts off the ground; one unfortunate streetsign is beheaded as it rises, then the train shoots off into the sky.

It is well after midnight. And it is Tuesday.

Now that Yuki's mind slowly returns to normal, she quickly steps away from the place she arrived at, before the noise and devastation catches interest. Absently stomping down on her shadow as it tries to grasp her leg, she begins making a mental list of chores.

She wants to see Oriko. She has to apologise to Junko. She should check up on Kyoko and Yuma, not to mention Nagisa. She has to speak with Kazuko, as well as Mami and Homura.

And, of course, Yuki has some questions for Kyubey. What happened with Kirsten made her suspicious.

Out of all these, Kyubey, Oriko, and Kazuko take priority to her. Kazuko primarily because she deserves an update after offering her home to her.

---

[] Go see Oriko
weight: x1.5

[] Ask Kyubey some questions
weight: x1

[] Check in with Kazuko
weight: x1

---

-Name change: 'Magical Girl of Courage' has become 'Yuki, Naftali'
-Alias change: 'Yuki' has become 'The Magical Girl of Courage'
-Trait Change!

Previous

-Abnormality: Figment of the collective human conciousness. Immortal, unaging, revives upon death. Vote options are weighted with regard to Magical Girl of Courage's personality
x0.5 heavily disliked
x0.75 disliked
x1 neutral
x1.5 favoured
x2 heavily favoured

New

-Abnormality?: Child of the collective human conciousness, a story come to life. Immortal, unaging, revives upon death. Vote options are weighted with regard to Yuki's personality
x0.75 heavily disliked
x1 neutral
x1.5 heavily favoured