Warfare Augmented Intelligent Frame Unit

Chapter 47 - Crimson Curse

Chapter 47 - Crimson Curse

After that explosive match, my friends and I found refuge in a fast-food chain just outside the coliseum. The school cafeteria was packed to the brim, leaving us no choice but to indulge in greasy burgers and fries that carried about as much nutritional value as cardboard.

There she was—our exploding star, Cindy—tearing through a towering stack of Giant Macs as though the apocalypse was coming and calories no longer mattered. Her ferocious appetite might have stemmed from the stress of the last match, but I had a hunch she was also devouring her frustration. 

Cindy looked like she had just walked through a battlefield—her reddish hair now reduced to crispy, curled tufts, as if it had been electrocuted. Her face glistened under the fluorescent lights, streaked with sweat and grease, giving her an oddly comical yet pitiable appearance. None of us dared to comment on it, though; we were all quietly choosing kindness over cruelty.

At one point, she grabbed a handful of fries—far too many for one bite—and shoved them into her mouth, only to start coughing violently seconds later. "Kehoo! Kehoo!" she hacked and sputtered, her eyes widening as if she'd just realized fries weren't meant to be inhaled. Remuel, ever the reliable partner, slid his cola toward her without a word, his expression somewhere between concern and exasperation.

"Chill down, Cindy," he said flatly, watching her gulp down the soda. "The burgers aren't going to run away, so maybe slow down a bit?"

Cindy hardly paused, her voice muffled by the mouthful of food. "'S so unfaiw!" munch "Why d' I hafta deal wif a thi'th-year—gulp—righ' in th' firs' roun'! chomp An' my se'f-destruct Ultimate..." she paused just long enough to cram in another bite, "...don' even do me any favors, eitha!"

I grimaced, cringing at the sight. "My goodness, Cindy," I said, shaking my head. "Would it kill you to swallow your food before launching into a rant like that?"

"Be considerate, you incel goon." Myrrh shot me a withering glare, her amber eyes practically cutting through me. "You should know how girls feel when they're frustrated. Read the room, won't you?"

"Fuck you," I shot back casually, sipping through the straw of my cola as the fizz bubbled up against my teeth.

Cindy, now finally in control of her chewing, swallowed down the last monstrous bite and slammed her greasy hands onto the table for emphasis. "You girls better avenge me!" she declared, her voice booming across the tiny fast-food booth. "Promise me you'll get that license, Myrrh and Fei!"

"I-I'll do my best!" Fei stammered nervously, her cheeks reddening as she pumped her fists like a rookie boxer trying to psych herself up.

"Of course," Myrrh replied smoothly, flicking her long lime-green hair with practiced confidence. The gesture sent her black ribbons fluttering. "I'll do it for you, even if you didn't ask."

Her nonchalant determination made the air feel heavier, almost like the promise had weight to it.

I turned slightly, catching Remuel out of the corner of my eye. He was smiling—wide, unblinking—and something about it sent a chill crawling up my spine. It was the kind of smile you'd expect from someone plotting your downfall, and it had my nerves on edge.

"What's with you?" I muttered, leaning closer to confront him.

Instead of answering my suspicion, Remuel grinned even wider and spoke with eerie cheer. "You two should do your best as well, Zaft. And you too, Neil."

"Yeah, count on me!" Neil exclaimed, his fist shooting into the air like he was rallying a crowd, knuckles clenching as if gripping victory itself. His unshakable confidence could almost be contagious.