章節 5: Chapter: 5 Trauma {Re-write}
The morning sun filtered through the curtains as Renko woke up to her internal alarm clock ringing, which always woke her up at the same hour. Surprisingly, this time around, it turned out to be quite early.
She opened her eyes and found herself on the floor, the blanket folded under her head. Last night, the bed had turned out to be too soft for her liking.
After a few moments of trying to remember what she was doing inside the house, she realized that yesterday hadn't been a dream after all. Her death, the glowing lady, the school, the yakuza... it felt like one of those dreams after smoking some of the combat drugs rolled into cigarettes.
Renko stood up slowly and grimaced as she stretched, feeling the stiffness of her limbs, it would seem her body wasn't used to sleeping on the floor.
After a quick shower, and realizing that she had a bit of flab-
"What th-!"
Her body wasn't fat, but the lack of muscles was concerning. As for the tummy sticking out, she could only avert her eyes as she squeezed the spongy skin.
'This is bad~'
Renko had a fetish~ That fetish was office ladies with soft bodies~
"Well, that's enough fooling around."
It was serious not to have enough strength to keep up with her mind; her movements became burdened, and her body would often lag behind while her mind planned two steps ahead.
For breakfast, she had the junk food again. There was no point in wasting good food if she didn't even know how to cook them in the first place.
As for the 'instant ramen,' her first observation was that it was the same as 'Noodle Rations' the army issued for the first decade or so of her service before switching to nutrition bars. The same principle as using hot water except the 'noodles' only had salt for seasoning while the 'ramen' had quite a bit of stuff mixed in it... she didn't like some of it though.
Renko hummed as she finished her breakfast, feeling a bit satisfied but annoyed at the same time. The instant ramen did fill her stomach and it tasted great, but the nutrition value wasn't up to standards and waste elimination would be a pain in the ass.
It was not like they didn't have to use the toilet after consuming the bar, the process was just delayed to about once a week or maybe two depending on the quality. It ejected all sorts of toxins from the body while regulating electrolytes and maintaining the complex bacterial ecosystem in the gut.
She made a mental note to learn some basic cooking from somewhere, at least to maintain a facade of normal lifestyle.
After cleaning up, she put on her uniform and did a double-check on her appearance in the mirror. Now that she looked at it carefully, she realized there were some things entirely different from before—the semi-albino appearance was the same and so were the electric blue eyes, but her facial structure was a little different. Less Japanese so to speak.
Renko tied her hair in a ponytail and decided to shave it when she had the chance. Then, she straightened her uniform. Although there was a brand-new school bag waiting for her, she opted for the old duffle bag, keeping the PT tracksuit, books, diary, blade, and pistol just in case. She hid the spare ammo in the bathroom.
The morning outside was crisp and fresh as she walked to school. It wasn't too far, just about two clicks maybe? The streets were starting to fill with people, and the neighborhood had a quiet buzz to it that reminded her of an old settlement.
She met the girl Yuki at the School gate. The short-haired furball was bounding on her toes as she ran up to greet her,
"Morning!"
Renko stared down at her, the girl was somewhere around the low 5fts, maybe 5'2" or 5'3"? Almost a full foot smaller than her.
"Morning..."
She responded in her usual stoic voice.
As the silence stretched, the smile on Yuki's face grew more and more strained until finally she dipped her head and mumbled in an almost inaudible voice,
"This's awkward."
Renko didn't bother continuing their conversation, she wasn't much of a talker after all.
As they reached the classroom, Renko took a moment to gather herself. The place was filled with chattering teenagers and most of them had groups of their own. Typical group behavior, most of them would've known each other from middle school, and some might even be childhood friends.
The teacher arrived, some sort of suspicious high-school-girl-loving freak, and the class settled down for the first period which was English.
By lunchtime, she had already disappeared.
Renko found herself on the rooftop again, guess she was so used to being on a vantage point that her brain led her there without even registering what it was doing. She sat down and pulled out her diary, flipping through the pages to search for anything important that she might need to know.
There was not much left to know but some small details about her so-called siblings, especially the one from her mother's side. A sister who's about 32 years old...
'Guess her father's in jail.'
He was dead actually, killed by his own wife for betraying 'Soviet Russia' aka the 'Motherland.' Her sister was a member of the Soviet Armed Forces involved in Afghanistan 1999-2009... the timeline's pretty fucked up in this world.
Suddenly, her eyes twitched and she closed the diary with a soft 'SNAP.'
The rooftop door swung open and Renko peeked through the corner of her eyes to see Hori and Yuki approaching with their lunchboxes in hand... what was it called again? Bento?
"Skipping class already? My~ I guess you really are a delinquent."
Yuki chuckled as she sat down in front of her, opening her lunch box to reveal an assortment of riceballs,
"Not a delinquent,"
Renko replied, her voice as stoic as ever. Although she had heard of the rumors that started about her on the very first say.
'High school rumor machine is something else.'
Hori smiled while unpacking her own 'Bento,'
"I get it. Don't worry about the girls, they would probably be stopping now they know you don't give a damn."
Yuki nodded enthusiastically,
"Yeah! They did the same with Hori. Plus, the roof's been always locked before you transferred over, I wonder why?"
Renko raised an eyebrow, understanding what the short blond was implying. The lock was easy to pick, doesn't mean she had to pick it or anything.
As the two girls ate and talked, Renko followed after their conversation. Hori and Yuki were talking about an upcoming school trip to Kyoto and their travel plan for the two-day and three-night trip. Renko listened intently, occasionally asking for details about their school life, but mostly observing.
After lunch, the two girls headed back to class together. Renko felt bored again, she wasn't of the mind to open the diary again, it had too much information for her to process. So she decided to head back down after all.
The rest of the day passed in a blur of classes and listening to her classmates talk, occasionally giving a slight tilt of her head to indicate she was listening to their chatter. She noticed the subtle social hierarchies and groups being made in the classroom, some poor bloke named Miyamura seemed to be at the bottom of the ladder.
By the time school ended, Renko felt she should just stop trying so hard to blend in with them. She declined Yuki's invitation to hang out and much to her surprise, found that Hori did the same.
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For the following month, Renko's schedule continued to follow a similar pattern of activity. She woke up early, stuck to her workout routine, and attended school. She gradually began to integrate herself into the daily life of a high school student, even though most of the time she was nowhere near the classroom and the teachers had made it a sport to locate her during the PT periods.
She decided to try her hand at cooking, experimenting with simple recipes she found online... turns out, most of the stuff she cooked could kill a grown man. Tatsu learned it the hard way.
Hori and Yuki were still the only ones she ever interacted with, the former for classwork and the latter because she stuck to the former's side all the time. They introduced her to another classmate, a guy named Tooru who seemed hellbent on getting on Renko's nerves.
Turns out life can be quite simple... or not,
"I-ah... AH!!!"
She sat up abruptly, beads of sweat dripping down her forehead, her heart racing. She clenched her fists, trying to steady herself. The shaking was growing worse by the day,
"Damn it..."
She bit down hard on her lower lip, an all too familiar metallic taste spread across her tongue as she tasted blood. It was happening again. She staggered to her feet and made her way to the bathroom, staring at her reflection in the mirror, and much to her horror, it was not the teenager's face staring back.
Those eyes!
Those dead blue eyes!
Her eyes-
SPLASH
She splashed cold water on her face, trying to wash away what remained of last night's nightmare—metal tearing through flesh, blood and brains splattered across the wall, blood everywhere, guts spilling out on the floor.
'I guess some sort of PTSD's to be expected, huh? Although-'
She looked down at her trembling hands and frowned,
'Hyperarousal, eh?'
It started two weeks into her new life. Began with dreams of old missions through the forests. Then slowly, it turned into a real gorefest.
The forest.
It doesn't kill you with a single blow.
It plays with you.
It plays with the prey.
Day in and day out, you lay on the forest floor, feeling the insects and rodents crawl all over you. But you can't move, because you know there's someone out there waiting for you to move. Waiting to drill a hole through your head.
At one point, it becomes a game of chicken. A staring contest.
A day in and you reek of your sweat, two days and you reek of urine, on the third day you die from your target's bullet or whatever bacterial cocktail's brewing in your pants.
And the worst part about it all? One enjoys seeing their target suffer.
She had done the same, others had tried and failed or she wouldn't be here.
Wounding the prey.
Watching as it doesn't move for hours on end and then the wound begins to rot. By the next day, it's either death by blood loss or the wound opening's swollen to the size of an apple, filled with puss. Then you have to pull the trigger, no other option.
The prey's about to die from infection. Blood would clot, rigger would set, no other option left if you still want to enjoy the grand finale, the final scene. The beautiful pink mist shimmering under the light of the early morning sun.
A ruby mist of blood and brains-
BLERGH
Renko clung to the sink, bile rising in her throat. She doubled over, retching into the sink. Her stomach churned violently as she puked what remained of last night's dinner, the acid burned her mouth, mixed with the tang of blood. She gripped the porcelain edge, her knuckles turning white as she tried to steady herself.
"Get a grip… get a grip…"
She muttered to herself in the mirror, her reflection stared back, eyes opened wide and haunted. The dead blue eyes. Her eyes.
Renko didn't regret her past actions nor did she feel like any of it was a nightmare; it simply felt like she had drank a cup of water on an empty stomach. The revolting sensation of unsaitaible hunger. She wanted another rush, the feeling of her heart coming to a standstill as a fountain of blood erupted in the distance.
It truly was a revolting sensation.
每周推薦票狀態
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榜單 
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