Direct Intervention pt. 9
You scowl at the note. Would it be better to read it, or just leave it be? You're almost certain Oriko left that note- it's utterly pristine save for the traceries of beautifully done calligraphy. Your gaze shifts over to the other two again to make sure they aren't looking -Homura's pointing off into the distance, now-, before you stoop and pick up the note.
The note is short, and written in flowing, picture-perfect Hiragana penmanship of the sort someone who's taken lessons for half her life would have. It says, simply, 'This was, and remains, necessary.'
A tug on the corner of the note and it bends as though it caught on something.
Too late, you see the thread delicately glued to the corner.
Too late, you see the tiny black box the note had been sitting on top of.
Despite your enhanced reflexes, you're halfway through a panicked jump away when the box detonates, blossoming out in a spray of fire and shrapnel. White-hot agony shoots up your spine as metal shards tear their way through your right leg and hip. Some corner of your brain recognizes that the mine can't have been a military one- those have deadly radii in the tens of meters.
You crash down facefirst as a bleeding heap next to one of the vents on the roof. Your right leg, extended from the jump and caught in the brunt of the blast, is little more than a mangled mess of flesh, shredded tatters hanging from the bone.
It's probably a good thing you don't actually need all the blood that's pooling around your leg.
You clench your teeth, grinding them against each other hard enough to creak.
Mind over matter.
Pain is optional.
You don't need to feel the pain.
You can almost feel something click inside your brain, and the pain fades away to a dull ache.
"Sabrina!" Mami's instantly by your side, eyes wide and panicked. Homura's a step behind her.
[] Write-in
Remember that I have, to date, fiated Oriko's actions once.
The note is short, and written in flowing, picture-perfect Hiragana penmanship of the sort someone who's taken lessons for half her life would have. It says, simply, 'This was, and remains, necessary.'
A tug on the corner of the note and it bends as though it caught on something.
Too late, you see the thread delicately glued to the corner.
Too late, you see the tiny black box the note had been sitting on top of.
Despite your enhanced reflexes, you're halfway through a panicked jump away when the box detonates, blossoming out in a spray of fire and shrapnel. White-hot agony shoots up your spine as metal shards tear their way through your right leg and hip. Some corner of your brain recognizes that the mine can't have been a military one- those have deadly radii in the tens of meters.
You crash down facefirst as a bleeding heap next to one of the vents on the roof. Your right leg, extended from the jump and caught in the brunt of the blast, is little more than a mangled mess of flesh, shredded tatters hanging from the bone.
It's probably a good thing you don't actually need all the blood that's pooling around your leg.
You clench your teeth, grinding them against each other hard enough to creak.
Mind over matter.
Pain is optional.
You don't need to feel the pain.
You can almost feel something click inside your brain, and the pain fades away to a dull ache.
"Sabrina!" Mami's instantly by your side, eyes wide and panicked. Homura's a step behind her.
[] Write-in
=====
Remember that I have, to date, fiated Oriko's actions once.
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