the beauty of water: resurfaced | o. dazai ✔

chapter twenty-five.

It did not smell good in there.

(Y/n) could feel herself slowly regaining her senses, her awareness sharpening as she fell back into consciousness. It was cold yet unbearably dry. She could feel cold stone pressed against her face for a second, and then what felt like straw the next.

Her hands ached and she felt a pressing weight against them, keeping them close to the ground as she tried to roll over. Her hands didn't hurt nearly as much as her head did. God it throbbed. She just wanted to reach up and rub the spot or find out if whatever was wet against her scalp was blood or sweat. She really hoped that it was just sweat.

"Did I hit her too hard?" a young voice asked, worry lining the concerning question. "Is she gonna wake up? Did I mess—"

"You did fine," a more feminine voice snapped, though it didn't feel like it as her tone was still somewhat gentle. "I can see her stirring. Now go. I'd like to be alone now."

A scurry of footsteps ran off, leaving only (Y/n) and one other person in the room. It didn't take someone like Ranpo or Dazai to figure out what happened – even in a semi-conscious possibly concussed state.

She was alone, hurt, and possibly bound with Aimi Fujinuma.

(Y/n) tried opening her eyes, only getting one partially open at first. In her blurred, darkened vision, she watched as Aimi turned away from (Y/n). With a deep breath that echoed throughout the large space, she exhaled what looked to be a sparkling light blue gas.

In front of Aimi, Zack Fujinuma materialized.

Though he did not look the same. As (Y/n)'s eyes focused more, she could see that there was a slight blue glow around Zack's figure. She could see through him just enough to watch a train blast by through one of the windows. It shook the building, a metallic clanging occurring behind her.

She tried to move her hands, realizing that the clanging and the weight were chains. Her hands were bound behind her back. She could only assume that she was chained to the floor of what appeared to be an abandoned warehouse. As (Y/n) finally became fully aware of her situation, she realized that things were really not good.

"You got her?" Zack questioned, his voice grittier than when he was alive. (Y/n) couldn't believe that she'd ever hear that voice again, let alone see him right in front of her.

"I do," Aimi replied with a slight nod. "It's just a matter of when she's awake."

"I think that's sooner rather than later." Zack gestured with his head over to (Y/n).

Aimi turned, her mouth turning to a haunting grin as she realized that (Y/n) was staring at the both of them. They walked over to her, stopping just as (Y/n) was able to sit up.

She looked between the two, blinking a couple times. "Yeah, someone is going to have to fill me in here," (Y/n) stated, her voice low and hoarse. "Because this is a massive what the fu—" She was abruptly cut off by the blast of a train whistle.

Aimi and Zack shared a quick look. It was as if Aimi was silently gaining permission from Zack to speak. He nodded slightly, prompting her to turn back to (Y/n) and begin, "When you threw me in prison after you used that special ability of yours to come back from the dead, I had an awakening."

"You found religion?"

Aimi furrowed her brows. "No. I found that I had a special ability. Of course, I can't compete with someone who can bring themself back from the dead. But I could gain the wisdom of others from beyond the grave."

(Y/n) looked over to Zack. He was starring daggers at her. Even when she was at their mercy, he still couldn't help hiding how he despised her. She felt a chill run up her spine. She knew that whatever was happening in his (un)dead head was not good for her in any scenario.