Chapter 513: Arc 6, - 129: Scars

Chapter 513: Arc 6, Chapter 129: Scars

The lights were coming in and out of a haze... The smell was, clean? Chemical—disinfectant? The soft pillow scraped against her ear as she turned and murmured.

Above her, someone with red hair was hovering their hands over her chest; a blue glow was present. The figure turned, and waved a hand over her gaze... which shut back down, and no thoughts or senses lingered.

...

Once again, her vision began to appear. This time it was much clearer; there was a light above, a curtain in front and a wolf-woman at the side staring at her own palms.

Said wolf-woman looked up and parted her lips. Slowly, the muffled sound became more coherent. "-eko? Fumeko?" the gentle calling of her name continued till she awoke proper.

"...Hospital?" the words hushed out of her.

Hotaru took a deep breath and sighed, "Yes. You’re in a hospital."

Fumeko’s head turned.

"Take it slow, don’t rush. We’re safe." Those words sounded so planned, that it came out robotic from the redhead.

She took in her senses one by one; the tube connected under her left arm was hard to ignore as she shifted it. She felt the furrowing of her brows, "How long," she paused and lapped at the roof of her mouth.

"Here," Hotaru grabbed a glass of water at the bedside and carefully tipped it past the brunette’s lips. The water was much needed relief.

’The shadow’s gone.’ She noticed her pallid arms and legs free of it.

Hotaru fed her till it was empty. "It’s been three days and some hours."

Fumeko wet her lips, "Kineko."

"Safe. We’re all... alive," she set the glass down.

Through the blur of memories, she recalled the events leading up to her loss of consciousness. She lied back in the bed, and stared at the ceiling. ’...Kineko...’ She winced her eyes shut, uncomfortably so.

"You can explain everything later; for now... just please rest," Hotaru pouted. "You had a heart attack."

Fumeko turned her head to the side, "...I think I figured that part out."

Hotaru rested her forehead into her own palm, "You apparently had a severely high blood pressure, so they had to drug you for a few minutes.

I couldn’t really heal much other than burst blood vessels, before I had to call emergency services. Uhm. The orphanage knows about the, you know. I had to exit there.

I just kept rotating between all of you to heal. Luckily Sobi was there, and Ben... Well, he can heal some things, but I’m glad Feyan taught me how to remedy paralysis. And, and everyone was injured for the most part... but you," she buried her face deeper into her hand.

Fumeko stayed silent.

Hotaru sniffled into her palm and raised her head up with a bit more composure, "I can’t heal a heart attack now, can I? All I could keep you doing was breathing. And then the doctors took over.

I’ve just been periodically casting Calm over your heart," her lips pulled to the side. "It, seems to help."

Fumeko looked down and realized the cold sensation was due to the water droplets over her exposed chest, with her undershirt having been pulled up. She furrowed her brows back at the redhead, before she slowly and awkwardly raised her IV-injected arm to cover her chest.

Hotaru’s eyes glazed over, and her head tipped to one side, "Really?"

Fumeko’s pallid face regained some redness as she blushed.

The wolf-girl sighed and reached her hand forward to pull down the undershirt to cover her up. Her crimson ears flickered, "I managed to work the spell in a small area, and the easier access I have, the better you’d live," she enunciated her last few words.

The detective raised her head and groaned; she felt each bone shift in her spine and trigger a sudden sting in the back of her head.

Hotaru stood up and gently cupped her head to lay it back down, "What did I say."

"I just wanted to sit up..."

"Tell me that then. Don’t be like-"

Fumeko watched as Hotaru tightened her lips shut and go silent.

...

...

"You’ve recovered her from worse states," the brunette remarked.

Hotaru sat back down, "That’s because most of her... ’overdoing it’, results in her magic tearing at her flesh—wounds, internal bleeding, bone fractures. Yours were all... ugh. How am I supposed to heal blood pressure? Or a heart beating too fast?"

"Calm?"

"That’s not fixing the problem, who knows how magic reacts after the fact? I don’t have spells for that. I’ve been doing it to stabilize you after, not during; and the spell’s meant for your emotions in the first place, not the heart," the redhead’s ears spiked.

"I wasn’t complaining, I know you did your best," she softly replied. "I’m just trying to wrap my head around it."

Hotaru placed two fingers at her temple and rubbed in circles, "Speaking of which, Jotou’s injuries are a result of overusing. Please tell me this now; when you blinked to me, were you able to cast a spell since you were in mortal danger, and your affinity flared up to protect you?

Or..." she took a breath and looked Fumeko in the eyes. "I will understand why if you did it, but did you cast a spell when you were not able to?"

"Yes," she maintained her gaze.

"...Thanks for confirming," Hotaru searched around the bedside, and pulled out a hand mirror from underneath today’s paper.

"Where’s Sobi? Tiffy? Ben?"

"Ben went to fetch some breakfast for Sobi and I. Asobi’s downstairs on the second floor, keeping an eye on Kineko... who," her ears folded down.

"Who what?"

"She’s awake. But she’s not really talking much—understandably. And Tiffany’s resting in another wing. She doesn’t have armour or enchanted clothing, so, her body’s a lot more sensitive and tired.

You’re the last person to wake," she handed the mirror to Fumeko. "You’ll want to see this," she sombrely helped Fumeko to sit up.

She regained her control and motion bit by bit; the initial pain faded into relief. Hotaru guided Fumeko’s hand with the mirror, and pointed it to her back.

Black lines with specks of white, branched out like a tree from the length of her spine, scarring through the pattern of her nerves. From under her hair, down her neck and back, they spread a few centimetres to either side.

A few black scars webbed through her nerves towards each shoulder, stopping right near the sides of her arm. Hotaru lifted her hair to show the extent of it, "It’s all the way down to your tailbone, but it’s only spread to cover your shoulder blades for the most part. So, it’s not wide at least..."

Fumeko reached her other hand back to trace along the line, "It doesn’t hurt."

"Okay," Hotaru’s voice wobbled.

"You seem more upset about it than me."

"Well, you were covered in it at first. It slowly went away over hours, but that’s not gone away for days now. I have my doubts that it’s gonna heal," her face scrunched.

Fumeko gave her back the mirror, "It’s not like I had a pretty back to begin with."

Hotaru furrowed her brows, "Collecting scars is one thing Meko, but I’m worried what this one means. It doesn’t even have a texture."

The curtain was pulled as quickly as Fumeko pulled up her blanket. Morgana Aetherton’s shoulders fell, "Kid." She made no hesitation to lean forward and embrace her tightly.

The brunette winced from the jolt of sudden pain, but soon relented her head onto Morgana’s shoulder. They remained together for minutes, before Fumeko spoke, "How was the funeral?"

Morgana pulled back, and her hands went up to hold the girl by her shoulders. She cocked a brow and a tear glistened in her eye. "Went fine kid."

"There wasn’t any disruption from the cult?"

"Not directly at the wake."

"I’m sorry to interrupt, but she really should be resting still. She hasn’t had three days’ time to collect herself," the redhead advised.

"Which means I can remember things even clearer," Fumeko retorted.

"She ain’t wrong kid," Morgana let her go and crossed her arms. "I thought you were in a much worse shape. But you ain’t dead yet, so let’s keep you healthy. You will explain everything that happened, later."

"I wasn’t planning not to."

"Good," she sat at her bedside and kept a hand on her leg.

’...Nobody’s scolding me... I guess that’s a good sign.’

_

The dark liquid reflected back the image of a frowning man who looked at it from above. Sounds of people chatting warbled around him while he studied the features of his face—not the same one he wore a year ago.

Slowly the image rippled and disappeared; the colour in the cup kept getting lighter as milk seeped in. Ben glanced up at the elf who began pouring it into his cup.

"Sorry mate, you wanted it black?" Clyde stopped pouring.

"Nah man, a lot’s good," he dismissed. He had his arms crossed on the cafeteria table, surrounded by hospital guests and patients who have just been discharged or newly staying.

Clyde sat back down on his side of the table and added several spoonsful of sugar into his own cup of tea. Ben picked up and drank his cup of milk that had hints of coffee left.

"You wanna talk about it?" Clyde uttered.

"What’s there to talk man," Ben kept his gaze on the table.

"You lot got smashed up by the Thundering Blade in a trap you lot knew you were walking into."

"My best friend of nearly ten years just beat my ass again, with every one else included. She didn’t even fight right; there wasn’t a single sense of urgency from her, it was like a game," he grumbled.

"But you got to heal."

"So cool; the wolf-girl can heal basically any injury humanly possible, I can make a scar fade over ten hours," he shrugged.

"You lot got the kid out. That’s something," he added another spoonful of sugar into his cup.

"You gotta cut it with the sugar man."

"It’s not sweet enough," Clyde blamed the tea.

"Don’t think there’s a heal spell for diabetes."

"Colwyn was worse with sugar," he remarked with a shake of his head, and took a sip of tea. He smiled, as the taste was to his liking.

"She’d still stop you."

Clyde’s smile faded. "...True."

Allowing the moment of silence between them to linger, Ben sat back. "At least none of us died in getting the little dude back," he threw a hand up.

"...How lucky."

"No man, that’s not what I-"

Clyde put a hand up before Ben could apologize, "Bygones."

"...Kay."

"What a sad table—mind another?" a voice chirped and hummed as it sat beside Ben on the bench.

"Oh, yeah, sure," Ben moved over a bit.

"An eavesdropping professional?" Clyde furrowed his brows.

"Kinda her job," Ben explained to the archer. "Uh, Clyde, Alicia; Alicia, Clyde."

Alicia leaned in over the table, "The fella y’lot were chasing down? Heard ’bout you. Reporter by day, and by night, but not today; a camera’s not a good look in here," she beamed.

"Thought your neck looked empty," Ben replied.

"Oh~ You noticed? Well, as much as I wanna stick ’round t’be stared at a bit longer, I came t’check on the little detective. She awake yet?" she adjusted her spectacles.

"No. I was here to- Fuck, I was meant to get them breakfast," Ben turned around to look at the cafeteria and the trays of food.

"Oh that’s right..." Clyde pondered aloud and looked absentmindedly at the ceiling while he took a sip of his tea.

Alicia got up with a sigh, and patted Ben on the head, "You’re lucky you’re cute. Perfect time for me t’make an appearance then. Don’t worry ’bout the meal, I’ll bring it up and say I held y’two up. Alright, gotta go, nice catching up.

Oh! And I caught wind of some of the stuff that happened a few days ago, probably why you’re moping ’round. But sometimes bad things just sorta happen, and y’keep going. Your buddy’s got the right idea; at least y’got the kid out," Alicia waved and darted off to grab food.

And just like that, the whirling dervish of a reporter came in and went out like she was never there. Ben kept an eye on her, and blinked a few times.

Clyde and Ben shared a glance.

"She likes you?" Clyde pointed out with a squint.

"Does she?" he squinted.

Clyde then shrugged.

"Huh. I don’t know," Ben finished up his coffee.