⌝ Nemesis ⌟

4 || Aftermath (TW)

TW // Disturbing descriptions, sickness/throwing up.

Everything hurt. My knees scraped raw, flesh scattered across the arena. Hundreds of faces. Hundreds of screams. Hundreds of cries. A bloody sight. But worst of all, the burning smell of oil that choked me, making my lungs flip inside out from pain. Burning. Fire. Flames. Life fleeting.

My eyes are open, but I can't feel my body anymore. I can see people moving, but all I can hear is myself. My thoughts running, my hands shaking. I trained so hard, surely this was a mistake....

"Mirai." A stern voice pierced through my brain like an iron skewer. I can feel the rip, hear the screeching slice.

"...Dad...?" My voice hushed like a whisper, hoarse. The sounds barely make it out of my mangled body.

He faded like a distant memory. Of course, I can't forget he's not here. He never was here. It's been a while since I even saw his twisted face. Blood-shadows surround me, as if taunting me. 'Are you stupid, why would you even think he was here?'

Trembling, my body aches for sanctity. As I breathe, I throw up white onto the black concrete. A stark difference. In what cold machinery am I the tool to be used for people's pity at that moment? I can't stop the salt water from seeping out of the tiny holes in my eyes. Every little second that passes by puts more weight over my heart and soul until I can feel my world collapsing from under me.

And what of everything else? Why was I only thinking about other people now? Was the crowd okay? F51? I had to struggle to scramble over to him. My cold hands caressed the now wet metal he was made of. Not a light shone from his power source, his wires scraped to pieces, falling out of him.

In a way, I felt like we were in similar conditions. It felt like my organs were about to spill out of me, as if I'd explode any second. Thoughts and feelings bubbled up inside me like bone broth, frothing up and making the taste in my mouth even more bitter. Motor oil and rain wafted through the air, the arena stained red and black. The coldness of death washes over me, but I'm still alive. A dead girl walking, a living corpse. That's how I feel.

And still, hours later, standing at this rock, I feel numb. Like I'll only ever feel a burning anger or sadness for the rest of my life. 

"Hey, dad." I mumbled, choking out my words. "I... I made it out alive. But I still can't help but feel like things are still going wrong. I mean... Hah... I worked so hard, only to wreck everything before I could finish..."

My tears stung, my throat catching with every word. "I sometimes wish you weren't so good... Because I can never live up to the expectations you've set for me just by being here!!! And... And I wish you didn't leave the way you did..."

"I think this is our final goodbye... Because after today... I don't think I'll ever be able to utter the words again..."

I don't think I'll live long enough to utter any words again.