𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗧𝗟𝗘 𝗗𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗔𝗚𝗘

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 - STRONG

White luminescent light and bothersome buzzing bombarded my silent mind with headache inducing brightness. I felt great discomfort from the way I was laying so lifelessly. There was a chalky feeling in my mouth that followed a soreness in my throat and a metallic taste in my mouth. My body ached with uncomfortable pressure, specifically tensed in my arms and shoulders. My lips were chapped and cracked dried from the dehydration.

The most noticeable thing, however, was the chilled atmosphere, cooled by unpleasant loneliness. Shivering touches of the air hastily swept across my skin, lifting my hairs and blotching goosebumps across the surface of my skin.

My eyes were still faintly sensitive to the brightness of the room, slowly blinking and squinting I tried to push away my irritating fatigue. My muscles ached with an agonizing bruise, the sensation making me crease my brows with every breath. Lifting my body a little more, I winced with every little movement of my body — sensitivity running through me as I painfully inhaled. I wasn't comfortable for a while, my arms and legs to a little to relax back into the warm sheets.

It was quiet. Very quiet. I felt like I couldn't even hear my own breaths. The slight buzz of the luminescent lights hanging was faint and almost unnoticeable, the ac ran quietly with low pumps of air echoing through the vents, and the small beep from a marching beside me kept the silence from being to unbearable. My observations have me the information I need to figure out where I was.

I wasn't dead, which was a surprise. My side however ached terribly — even if I knew it was back to normal, nothing more than a scar now. I could still feel the burn of the cut that sent me into shock and disabled my reflexes.

Thinking over the past experience, I felt shameful. Horrible. Idiotic. Anything with a negative connotation, honestly, was how I described myself. I wouldn't let myself live this down, not with such a humiliating mistake. I know I'd be reminded that it wasn't my place to fight a special-grade but I couldn't even fight the low-grade. I don't deserve pity or comfort, not after the embarrassment of being so inept. Frustration was my main emotion; I never had high hopes for the experience, anyway.

"I see you're awake." My thoughts were interrupted by a calm tone, it had its usual hint of over excitement and arrogance. I slowly looked over to the man, a mix of emotions covering my face and telling him the unexplainable. "That's good, especially after..."

I wasn't in doubt of one thing: my own failure. He almost just added to my misfortune loss, a brightness in him told me he almost never had a moment like mine. He's never lost.

"But that's not why I'm here." I blinked once, then my head slightly fell to the side. "You lost, sure." I creased my brows together at the straightforward statement. His bluntness was something I had to learn to get used to... "And sure it was in many different ways," A look of distaste crossed my face wondering how he could say something so lightly. " — yes, the higher-ups are on your trail and yes the mission wasn't supposed to be yours — "

"What?" I was confused, my eyes wandering his face for a better explanation. "I'm getting there, I promise, just let me lay everything out and then you can organize it in your head or whatever." He shushed me with a snap of his fingers and I could only narrow my eyes with skepticism at the man. "Take it how you want to... but I think your failure was actually an improvement."

"That's practically contr — "

"Contradictory?" He grinned and I sat a little taller, prepared to listen to his explanation. He seemed confident in his answers and was never hesitant, though he was quite obnoxious and immature. "Well, if you were awake, you'd see... but, unfortunately, your mind had drifted... into the waves of a perfect subconsciousness." He slowly digressed, uncaringly, and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Even though you'd been unconscious, encased in the fabrics of a faux reality, your body had went on autopilot and you were not hurt any more than that little cut on your side." He motioned to my abdomen with very little effort to be direct.

"So to shorten that... your technique activated, again — but was way more successful!" He smiled sending a thumbs up my way. I slid back into my bed and sunk into the pillow that kept my back elevated. I wasn't relieved, his words hadn't gave me comfort — I never got closure from anything he said, I was just having a hard time processing most of the stuff he was saying. I had lost the battle but discovered a unique property? I was so sure I was dead at one point...

"I haven't figured out much about it, I wasn't at the scene, but maybe you could ask Yuuta or even better, step on the field again!"

I don't want to. I want to go back home. I want to wake up normal and sleep with immaturity. I want to sleep in late on the weekends and wake up early on school days where I'll see all the people I know. I want to live without fear and judgement. I want to forget.

I rubbed at my eyes, they stung with salty water while my nose itched and burned. I could feel the preparing tears but I wasn't going to let myself cry, not yet. Eventually, Gojo had bud his goodbyes and with a good recovery my body further sinking into the bed and curling up with discomfort.

The watergates overflowed, the dams breaking from too much pressure and I finally let myself succumb to the painful sadness, breaking down without another second of hesitance.