Chapter Text
Kyouka was never given the courtesy to know of life without an IV in her arm.
Her memories were filled with porcelain white walls, cold tile floors that stung her bare feet, and the loud lullaby of heart monitors that sung her to sleep every night for nineteen years. As a form of twisted amusement, Kyouka would hold her breath for extended periods of time to affect her heart rate, before releasing to hear the different sounds and volumes of the screen. Although, she quickly halted her experiment once the doctors noticed the major fluctuations in her readings and told her that she would not be able to participate in music time with the other children for a whole week if she didn’t stop doing so. She refused to have Denki steal her triangle!
She learned how to count by using the hospital room numbers on her floor as she made her way to the playroom and back. However, she was convinced that numbers ended after 132 and got into a very heated argument with her nurse when she was told that they in fact did not. When Kyouka was told that numbers actually never ended and only ever got bigger and bigger and bigger and went on forever she cried, unable to understand the information given to her. She hated math from that day forward.
The staff and patients of the hospital were the closest people she had to consider family and they all taught her so many amazing things! Mrs. Nagachika who was roomed directly below Kyouka’s, always had documentaries playing on the television in her room whenever she would invite her over. After watching a particularly interesting series on ocean creatures, Kyouka was relieved to know that clown fish were not actually clowns in fish costumes that swam underwater, but instead just tiny “nemos”. She didn’t know what a “nemo” was but that’s what Denki called them and Denki says that he is always right so she had no reason to argue.
Her small makeshift family witnessed all of her firsts, and all of her lasts, up close.
When she took her first steps at the age of four, it seemed as though the entire world was watching her. Each movement of her foot was strategic yet sloppy as she made her way across her hospital room with the help of her walking aid. Kyouka’s smile and bubbly laugh radiated throughout the building, bringing cheers, congratulations, and tears, from every passer by.
The cancer spread to her legs at the age of twelve.
She no longer walked after that.
The first word’s that ever left her mouth were “Stupid Denki!” at the age of five when her best friend walked into a closed door. They were soft and barely audible over the cartoon that was playing on the small television behind her, but they were words that Kyouka spoke. Astonishment engulfed the face of both children before their mouths broke into beaming grins. Holding hands as they jumped in circles chanting “Stupid Denki! Stupid Denki!” over and over again until a nurse finally calmed them down; but that didn’t stop them from whispering it to each other in their ears as they giggled for the rest of the afternoon.
They were also the last words she ever spoke before passing.
Her best friend sat beside her holding her hand, telling Kyouka over and over again that she was going to be fine, just like every close call before, as tears streamed down his face, lip quivering and voice cracking as he spoke. A sad smile tugged at the edges of her mouth as her free hand moved to cup his cheek, whispering the short phrase for only the two of them to hear. The heart monitors wails became inaudible over those of her other half.
He didn’t allow anyone to call him Denki after that.
Kyouka had her first kiss at the age of eleven with the twelve year old girl, Mina, that roomed across the hall from her. A horror film played on Kyouka’s iPod as they cuddled under the handwoven quilt created by other girl’s grandmother. It was way past the time that they needed to be back in their own rooms, but both were too engrossed in the gruesome scene that was playing before them. It was accidental, only a quick brush of their lips as they turned their heads away to escape the killer’s gaze, and by most standards, it definitely does not count as an actual kiss. However, this didn’t stop Kyouka’s cheeks from blaring when she laid awake at night thinking of Mina’s eyes looking into her own. Or how she began to notice that Mina had a bunch of tiny freckles across her nose that she never saw before, but now it was all she could ever see when she closed her eyes. And she definitely never thought about how Mina’s lips tasted like strawberries and her breath smelt like bubble gum. Strawberries were suddenly her favorite food despite the fact that she gagged whenever one was brought to her just a few days earlier. If you asked anyone inside that hospital, they would tell you that Kyouka Jirou was absolutely smitten with Mina Ashido. Then Mina was given the okay to finally go home after being cancer free for a whole month, and they never saw each other again.
Kyouka didn’t know exactly what to expect when she finally died. Of course she thought about it, obsessed over it even; she can’t even remember a time when the idea of what became of our souls after our death wasn’t on her mind. Heaven or Hell, reincarnation, or just complete and utter darkness were her top four that she constantly jumped between. If she went to Heaven would she be able to walk again? Run, even? What could she be reincarnated into? An animal? A plant? Another human? Would she be okay if there was nothing? If her soul was just casted into blackness for eternity, would she be able to handle it? She was never sure of anything regarding death except the fact that it was going to take her earlier than she wanted it to.
Kyouka certainly never thought that the first thing she would see after closing her eyes for the last time would be her own body, laying limp in the arms of her best friend as he wept and wailed to everyone and noone all at once.
She certainly never expected to run out of the room away from Denki or to run through the crowd of nurses and doctors who wept silently to themselves.
She certainly never expected to even be able to run, and once she started, she didn’t stop.
She didn’t stop until the sun had left the horizon, leaving her cold, empty, and barren. She didn’t stop until everything was coated in a soft blue hue that jumped off street lights and windows and tore through her skin. She didn’t stop until the racing of cars became non existent and the stream of night owls disappeared. She didn’t stop until she could no longer recognize the foreign setting that surrounded her.
And then Kyouka broke.
A hurricane raged through her body as she fell to the ground clutching and tearing at her chest, her hair, her hospital gown, desperately searching for something that she couldn’t name or even begin to understand. She screamed until her voice went hoarse and her lips chapped and bled and until she could no longer remember why she wailed.
When she had exhausted all the water from her body and her head spun, Kyouka simply laid on the cold concrete under her and waited. Waited for her to wake up and be told it was only a nightmare. Waited for a being in a dark cloak to reach out towards her with porcelain white bones to guide her to her next purpose. Waited for anything to happen, but nothing did.
Kyouka’s unaware of what finally brought her back to her feet and walking towards neon lights, losing herself within the maze of buildings and drunken bodies. Maybe it was her unknown purpose dragging her towards an unknown scenery in an unknown city, or maybe it was simply her own desire and curiosity to experience something she was never able to when she was alive.
Alive.
Kyouka shook her head clear of thoughts, pressing her thumb to her temple in a blind hope that it would make them stop.
It didn’t.
The night air wisped through her sheer gown turning her numb, pins and needles coating her skin as she tripped over her battered feet. Only then did she realize that the entire back side of her body was naked, exposed to anyone and everyone that stood behind her. Hopelessly attempting to pull close the back of her robe before remembering that no one could actually see her.
She was fucking dead.
Sighing, she brought her hands from her back up to her chest, crossing her arms over one another as she shuddered , not knowing if it was because of the cold or simply because of her own thoughts.
And then she’s on the ground, head spinning and vision blurry.
“Okay ow ow ow!”
The melodic voice of a young woman pulled Kyouka’s mind back into focus. As her eyesight sharpened, Kyouka slowly made out the soft features of the girl’s cheeks, eyes closed and scrunched with dark flyaway hairs falling over her face, the rest pulled back into a tight ponytail being held up by a silk ribbon. Slender, pale arms rested on either side of Kyouka's torso with equally as delicate hands positioned far too close to her neck. As she gazed up at the woman above her, she could feel the heat pool in her cheeks at the realization that the woman's chest was laying directly on top of her own. A soft pink blush presented itself across the ridge of the unknown woman’s nose as she looked down at Kyouka, who was unable to tell if it was from embarrassment, the neon lights, or both.
She was absolutely breathtaking.
And she was laying right on top of Kyo- wait.
She was looking down at Kyouka.
She was looking down at Kyouka .
She could fucking see her.