Symbiosis

III.

  It could've gone worse.

  Nonetheless, a conflict would not have been avoidable. A confrontation with a member of the Port Mafia was instrumental but this was perfect.

  More than perfect, it was absolutely brilliant. She had Nakahara Chuuya in her clutches. It would only be smooth sailing from here on out, save for the little complication of her ability. She had still yet to work out the makings of this ability of hers. Standing Still in Time had never affected anyone else other than herself, this demonstration on the Mafia executive was only the result of a whim. A throw of a dice at subduing an undefeatable enemy, yet still carefully calculated.

  Her eyes narrowed at Nakahara's unconscious face. Ever since the last time, her opinion of him had turned from bad to worse. She had been extremely wary of him, like she had with anyone affiliated with Port Mafia but she was still bitter about her last violent encounter with him that left her out of commission for weeks.

  Her exhaustion from battling him with her ability had caused her to lose her concentration, allowing his attack to give her a few broken ribs and a broken arm which cost her precious time that could've been more beneficial dedicated to other matters besides nursing her injuries.

  Her nose twitched, partly from the reeking metallic stench of blood filling the air and partly from the distasteful sight of his face. Its pale complexion was gaunt and slick with sweat from the torturous pain. The only sign of life that came from him was the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, accompanied by the soft sighs of his shallow breaths. She released her grip on his neck and stood back to take in the pathetic visage of the man, her lips morphing into a grimace.

  His clothes were drenched in his own deep red blood. There was a shallow cut in his abdomen. She assumed it was a graze that he had received while trying to dodge Ozaki Kouyou's blade. The other injuries, however, were more pronounced and likely intended to immobilise him. She felt these wounds like she would her own. The searing pain that picked its way through her body when she remained untouched. It was a new experience for her since she only ever used her ability on herself. Even so, she had never utilised it to drastically alter the age of her body.

  Before long, black mist started to rise from Nakahara's head. It rolled off his shoulders in billows and twisted from his fingertips until he was entirely immersed in the ominous shifting black substance.

  Suddenly, she wasn't standing in a grimmy shipyard in the middle of the night. The sky above Yokohama shimmered and faded into a blank expanse of smooth black ceilings. Red ornate walls surrounded her and velvet carpeting surfaced under her feet. In the chair beside her was a young boy. He held in his fidgeting hands a hat.

  She walked a circle around him and waved her hand in his face. He didn't react at all and continued readjusting his clothes. This was a vision. Just like before, when she used her ability on Nakahara.

  The boy wore a white button-up shirt with an unbuttoned vest and a lose ribbon tied around his collar. The expression on his face was governed by a steely glare. He wiped his hands down on his dark trousers despite the fact that his palms were dry, he was oozing nervous energy like a steam train spewing smoke during a cross country journey. There's a tightness in his shoulders that showed the apprehension that he failed to hide behind his stony mask. A soft click startled him, the boy snapped his head to the door as a new person materialised into the room from the blurry edges of the vision.

  It was a young woman. Her vivid orange hair was pulled up in an elegant twist and fastened together with decorative pins and jewellery. Her shapely figure was wrapped in a violet kimono as she glided forward with a pale hand outstretched.