Angel Beats! A Step Closer

Act V Chapter 15: Vigilantes

Sekine. The mischievous little rascal that Irie follows and Hisako despises. Someone who had caused trouble for many, but someone that can be counted on no matter what the task at hand. With no truly evil intentions, it was a small price to pay to have her around. A great contrast compared to the shyness of a drummer, the strictness of a guitar player, and the pure ignorance of a leader.

She enjoys drinking, enjoys eating, and enjoys playing her bass guitar. The aforementioned description would allow her to summarize what she is as a person if someone is remotely interested in a person such as her.

One of the most beautiful but hollowing things about the Afterlife is its methodology. To pass on, you must regain your memories and move past them. Naturally, that was logical; otherwise, it would entirely defeat the purpose of having that kind of world. Though how could memories pass on to the next life once one moves on from the Afterlife? Was it a modification of the synapses within the brain? Was it already preserved when one is born? How could that knowledge be already present in something that is completely different?

The most illogical answer was the sanest one: It was God's doing. How else would the Afterlife have worked out?

Believing the words of Yuri Nakamura, she followed her alongside everyone else, including her admirers.

The sin of a touch tickled all the way up and down her body, with that very touch making her sick to her stomach. A tiny foreign body that one can't exhale only to come back even lower in her physical form. The burp that can't always be regurgitated returned at different times of the days that passed along. Each day was a memory that was no longer exact, to the point where the weeks became unknown, and the current month was blacked away from her. What only existed was night and day.

Her skin had rusted from lack of proper nutrition but wasn't subject to the most adverse conditions.

With the sun beaming down on her through a closed window like God showing her the way, it signified the ability to wriggle free and to seek the thing that humans always try to find no matter how 'free' they are. It wasn't freezing to where her fingers would slowly frost and break off, nor was it too hot to where she would pass out from sweating alone. The temperature was always somewhat tolerable or even enjoyable.

It was one of the few things that made her stay that much more uncomfortable and disgusting. An aspect of human life in which the outside world was only a few feet away.

She couldn't break out. Beyond the scope of the worst of torture methods, she was teased with the idea of having a normal life that she got pulled away from. They didn't deprive her of her human senses. The room wasn't dark with a lack of stimulus, and neither was the floor cold concrete.

Her body glowed less and became riddled with signs beyond wear and tear. Her hair shined a little less honey, but it was okay. She was showered in the white of human love every other day. The white of human love began to wisp away slowly, and her outer shell was pushed and pulled to the extreme. Little indentations of human teeth that remained on her breasts reminded her never to look down. What was not a horror to her would be harrowing to everyone else that saw her in this unbearable state. As a child, every thought was to preserve her body and form some kind of dignity.

Now, this was a way of life.

When they returned back to her, their bidding was always completed one way or another. The tears of Sekine had dried away in their laughter, and they used her faster whenever it escaped her eyes.

She was trapped in an enclosure, only able to see the sunlight and grasp it for a few days before the idea became lost to her. Pushed against her will, she was forced to feel 'good' for the first few weeks. Then something new came up where she was met with blunt force. The love of her captors had gradually escalated as they began to grow insatiable thirsts.