Would You Rather? BSD 15 X OC (CURRENTLY BEING REWRITTEN)

09-Exhaustion

I waited outside the building fiddling with my hands...Why are they so scarred? 

I know I grip my palms too hard sometimes but it couldn't have been this bad right?

Why do I always do this? 

Why am I waiting outside hiding underneath the shade from the fierce light of the sun just because of Dazai's order.

I have an urge to kill him.

An urge to kill every one of them. All except a few, a rare few who have not killed me. 

My hands reached out to touch my face. I'm real. I know that....Yet I don't at the same time, Oftentimes when I look into a puddle of water I only see a weeping woman looking back. The woman had the exact same face as me but had pretty A4 paper white hair. her eyes were blindfolded but I knew they were a lovely emerald green. I did not know this woman.

That's not concerning. Not at all..

What were my friends like? 

Most of them were shorter than me but a few were slightly taller.

I don't know their names anymore. 

My knees and below it has old bruises that were now an ugly slightly-brownish color.

I'm uncomfortable here. 

I hate it. 

I was suddenly pushed forward towards the blazing sun and looked back. There was a yellow barrier. The shade of the barrier would go well with the color of my eyes. 

Why am I like this? Why did I come here if I wasn't suited for the role of dealing great violence? Why am I being dealt with great violence? Why didn't I get an ability? Any will do. Don't most of people who get isekaid get permanent game skills or actual special abilities? 

I'm not meant for combat.

Koyou-san you were wrong. I won't get used it. I never will.

I pulled at the roots of my hair. How disastrous, My hair was blackish brown but now it's a chocolate fading into an orange yellow. 

I'm not even myself anymore.

Was the me from back then even me?

Aahhh...I hate this.

The barrier's gone? Did I take that long thinking? 

I walked into the destroyed warehouse and was greeted of the sight of a grown man lying on the ground and two teenage boys towering over him. 

"Now that this is over let's all go our separate ways hm?"

I asked aloud to the teenage boys minding their own business

I want to just take nice shower, scrub myself clean, and change these awful bandages and get rid of my bomb collar too.

Dazai sighed before walking up to me and unlocking the bomb collar off my neck.

I thanked him before leaving with Chuuya back to base.

Back at the base nearly all of the members were staring at Chuuya with hostility in the air and some at me with concern.

I eventually got pulled away from Chuuya by some of the girls including Yuan.

I don't see why anyone could hate her. Although she clung to Chuuya, She also clung onto Shirase and Me.
In my opinion she just wants to be pampered once in a while and that's fine.

She's just a kid.

The girls got me into the room and hesitantly undressed the bandages and nearly vomited or cried.

Well a few did cry while the few others grabbed the first aid kit.

Yuan and the girls were sweethearts for helping me clean the wounds first.

Afterwards they forced me into a shower.

Things are going to be a goddamned mess here...

***

"Shirase what the hell!"

I grunted and applied pressure to the stab wound and stepped back to chuuya whispering a few words.

"..use your ability quickly..!"

He abided to my plea and used his ability on the both of us.

We got under the cliffside and I was exhausted.

Poison f#cking suck.

I can't see sh#t it's all a blurry mess. The rat poison wasn't supposed to do that. Oh i'm crying.

It's fine, I can cry for a bit and then I'll get back on my feet again.

"Wow, what a mess you two are-"

"Shut it!"

I'm so exhausted.

What a curse.

"..chuuya..!.a few of the members were forced into this mess so don't let them get hurt, please..!"

I told him before my world turns to a familiar eigengrau.

They're just kids..

(Ŷ̶͎̯͕̈̀̇̀́͊ở̷̗̤̺͛̊͋͗̈͘ṳ̴̔̐̉̉͑̉̚'̵͔̯̟́̄̍̉̌̎͝͝ͅŕ̴̗͍̹͚̍͌̅̈͠è̸̼̣̰̞͙͖ ̴̼͇̌̉̄̎͒̈́̀̔͝j̴͈̰͍̭̲̝͔̅ứ̸͚̦̝̥͔̙̼͚͚̎͐̓̔ŝ̶̨͈̭̼̰̳̬̝̔t̵̢͚̥̝͍͐̎ ̷͓̺̈̄̂̽̈́̌͝͝ą̸̫̘͍̰̞̰̰͖̲͌̈́̎͆̂͒̈́̚ ̵̨̙͋͜k̸͂͆̾̇̾̚͜i̴͎͘͝d̴̡̮̫͉̥̗̪̰̋͛̀̈́͐͒̕̕͜͝ ̵͉͓̪̘͔̮̅̈́́̀̋͛̇͘͜t̷̛̺̟͉͚͕̙͕̎̈o̷̡͚̱͈̳̝̞͊͋̀ơ̶̛͍͍̮̦̻̼̯̓͐͐́̈͊ͅ"̶͉͎̆̿̾̅̋̈͋̾ ̶̺̄̑͆̇͐̎H̵̡͇̥͇̮̎̈́͂̆̄̊̓͂͝ͅe̴͉̰̳̫͎̬̮͔̬̮̋̎́͂̃͆́̐̽͠r̶̡̨̢̫͖͇͉̦̬͖̅̌̃̇ ̵̠̻͕̯̐̒̂̈́̈́̎̀m̷̢̜̮̩̝̲̝͇̄o̵̼̖͓̣̘͑̔̅͂̂̒̑̕t̷̠͇̠̥̰̠̥́̑͘h̴̻̩̻͇͉̔ē̴̡͔̙̮̪͆̎̿̎͌͆͘͝r̸̤̲͗̋̓̄͛̕͝ ̷̗̂w̶͉̽̃͛̎̓͂̃̀͊͠ę̶͇̻͙̋̀e̶̪̩̣̰̬̯͂̅̈̚̕p̷̡̯̪͇̻͎̍͑̅̈́̌ḙ̵̘̹̹̩̮̉͐̂͜d̶̜́͗)