首輪教育のすすめ

Her name came out of Tov’s mouth strangled with grief.

Moran smiled, blue eyes alight with curiosity, red curls tucked behind her ears.

No blood to be seen.

Was that why she was seeing Moran now? Because she was the only person Tov couldn’t bear to watch die?

“You never came here to ask me for advice.” Moran said. “It was hard to know what you were thinking.”

Tov shook her head, “I never knew what to say.”

“Do you have something to say now?”

So much.

Too much.

She wouldn’t be able to get everything out without all of the regret and the pain spilling over her words.

She wouldn’t be able to apologize enough.

“Solei is dying.” Tov said instead.

It was the deepest wound in her chest.

Raw and aching.

Cut down to the bone.

Moran’s gaze softened.

“Death is just an act of transition.” She said. “I told you that before. Do you remember?”

Moran had once compared the life cycle of humans to that of a star.

Death was a constant.

But so was rebirth.

Tov looked down at her hands, “It’s harder to remember now.”

It felt like confessing a sin.

She was starting to forget things she so desperately wanted to remember.

The artificial breeze rushed through her braids, smelling faintly of clematis flowers.

If she closed her eyes, maybe she’d get lost in an old memory of a kinder time.

“Do you blame yourself?”

Tov lifted her head, “What?”

“It’s quite common in this situation for a person to feel a kind of guilt.” Moran said.

She frowned, her mind reeling, “What situation?”

“Season 39.”

A rush of memories crashed over Tov, blinding her.

Bloodstained mouths.

Limp bodies under bright lights.

A human inferno engulfing the stage.

Tears prickled behind her eyes.

She blinked again.

“I-I don’t— I don’t know.”

It felt helpless to say.

“It’s very common for people to invent blame, or create a causality, when in reality…” Moran’s smile was gentle.

Tov’s vision began to blur.

“It was completely out of your control.”

———

Cassio insisted Tov accompany them to the studio for the day, rather than staying at home by herself.

Their schedule was fully packed with consultations, wardrobe fittings, and meetings, leaving Tov to amuse herself in one of the empty dressing rooms.

Just like when she was younger.

It was one of the first things she had a talent for.

Staying out of sight.

Sinking into the quiet.

But since the season ended, the quiet felt different.

Instead of feeling content, Tov just felt empty.

Like something was missing.

The silence became suffocating.

Her dream of Moran last night still loomed over her shoulder, whispering in her ear.

“Out of your control.”

“Out of your control.”

“Out of your control.”

Why is everything always out of my control?

Tov forced herself to her feet.

She needed air.

The long hallway outside dressing room had a balcony entrance on the left.

She just needed to get there without drawing attention.

Except, there was someone else in the hallway too.

A tall young woman dressed in black.

Dark skin.

Red eyes.

Thoroughly pissed-off expression.

“Oh, it’s you.” The young woman said.

“You must be Naz.” Tov said. “Wren has mentioned you before.”

“Yeah, she’s mentioned you too.” Naz’s tone was flat.

She nodded, preparing to leave, “Well, nice meeting you.”

Naz scoffed, “So that’s it? That’s all you have to say?”

Tov felt like she was missing something.

“What do you want me to say?”

“An apology would be nice.”

She frowned, “For what?”

Naz’s expression hardened.

“Round 26. Akane. Ring any bells?”

“I know who Akane is.”

I see her every night of the full moon.

I want to tell her that I’m sorry, but I can never get the words out.

“Did she ever mention me?” Naz asked.

Oh…

That’s why the name sounded familiar when Wren first told her about Naz.

Akane had mentioned her a few times over the years, though the context was long gone.

“Once or twice.” She said. “We weren’t very close.”

Naz set her jaw, eyes blazing. “That makes sense, since you didn’t give a shit when she died.”

Her words hit Tov like a slap across her face. “Excuse you?”

“Come to think of it,” Naz continued, as if Tov hadn’t said anything. “It didn’t seem like you gave a shit when any of your competitors died. They were all just stepping stones for you.”

“You don’t get to tell me how I feel about my classmates.”

“I don’t think you feel anything at all.” Naz said. “You’re a showpiece. Your only purpose is winning.”

Ignore it.

Ignore all of it.

She’s angry about Akane and she’s taking it out on me.

Nothing more.

“That’s a lot of assumptions to make about someone you just met.” Tov said evenly.

“None of those words were ‘sorry.’”

“Even if I apologized, you wouldn’t accept it.”

“And how would you know?”

Because I wouldn’t accept it.

Not from Cirrus.

Not from Daiki.

Not from Vera.

“An empty platitude won’t make you feel better.” She said. “The best I can offer you is a good luck.”

Naz rolled her eyes, “Of course, why would I be any different? I could drop dead right now and you wouldn’t be fazed by it.”

I know someone who would.

And you haven’t even given her a second thought.

Maybe it was the tone of Naz’s voice, or the fact that she was so blinded by the past to realize what was coming next, but it was really starting to piss Tov off.

“You’re right, Naz. I don’t give a shit about you.” She said. “Just like you don’t give a shit about me. Just like Season 38 contestants didn’t give a shit about you and Season 41 contestants won’t give a shit about me. But Wren cares about you.”

“I already know—”

“No, I don’t think you do.” Tov said, voice sharp.

Naz bit back her response, eyes wide.

“You take for granted that Wren will always be with you.” She said. “You’re wasting the time you still have with her blaming me.”

Neither of us could’ve changed what happened.

It was completely out of our control.

“If it weren’t for you, Akane would still be here.” Naz snapped. “She would’ve won Round 26 if production didn’t rig it for the ‘Star of Season 39’ to survive.”

“Akane made her decision when she stole the gun, not when the round was over.” Tov said. “She would’ve shot her guardian regardless.”

“You don’t know that.”

“If she won, what would’ve happened after?” She asked. “Do you think she just wouldn’t get caught with the gun and be punished for it?”

“We could’ve worked through it together—”

“That’s not how this works Naz.” Tov said. “Once you go that far, you don’t get to come back. Akane knew that.”

“Shut up! You don’t know shit about her!” Naz spat.

“I know that whatever made her pick up that gun was more important to her than the chance of winning.” She said.

“Akane wasn’t the person you thought she was. The sooner you accept that the better off you’ll be.”

Tov turned to leave, a distant pang of guilt in her chest for saying something so petty at the end.

But she wasn’t going to take it back.

She gave as good as she got.

“Himei wasn’t the person you thought she was either!”

Tov stopped mid stride.

Just hearing her name out loud gripped her heart like a vice.

Slowly, she turned, “What did you say?”

“You heard me.” Naz said. “You think Akane was hiding things from me?” She barked out an ugly laugh. “Himei did the same thing to you.”

The way the hall light caught her irises turned them blood red, like the stain that crept across Akane’s white dress.

Fear pierced Tov’s skin, “What do you mean?”

“Himei poisoned Lark.”

A voice cried out in agony.

Not Naz.

Not Tov.

It was Himei’s voice, ringing in her ears.

Much lighter than it had been in years.

An old memory surfaced in flashes.

A bad fall during the afternoon break at Anakt Garden.

Pain sparking up Tov’s side.

Himei screaming like it was the end of the world, running over to her.

Pressing too close and hugging too tight, tears in her eyes as she grabbed Tov’s face.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? Do you need to go to the clinic?”

Tov remembered being confused as to why Himei was so upset.

Himei told her that she hated seeing innocent people get hurt.

It scared her.

Would that same girl hurt someone as innocent as Lark?

No.

Himei wouldn’t do that.

She would never do that.

Naz was lying.

“Who told you that?”

“Himei did.” Naz smirked. “Well, she told you in that letter.”

Tov’s heartbeat thundered in her ears.

In her throat.

She could barely keep the shake out of her voice, “What letter?”

“Oh, Wren didn’t tell you?”

“What did I not tell her?” Wren asked, appearing in the doorway across the hall.

She looked between the two of them with a confused frown, picking up on the tension immediately.

“Himei gave you a letter for me?” Tov asked.

Wren’s eyes widened, a flash of guilt in her expression, “Not exactly…”

“Wren—”

She threw her hands out, “Okay, okay! I found the letter, and I kept it from you, but I didn’t open it or read it. I swear—”

“I know you didn’t.” Tov shifted her glare back to Naz, “She did.”

“You did what?!” Wren shouted.

She could hear the sting of betrayal in her sister’s voice.

Naz looked more terrified than Tov felt.

“You didn’t read the letter?”

“You went through my stuff?”

Fuck all of this…

Tov pushed forward, “The letter. Now.”

Wren hesitated for a moment before she dug into the duffle bag slung over her shoulder and pulled out a white envelope.

Tov’s name was written on the front in Himei’s neat handwriting.

It felt heavy in her hands.

Like the weight of her world was inside.

She looked up at Wren, her voice cold and curt, “Don’t call.”

————————————————————

THE GIRLS ARE FIGHTINGGGG!!!!

And I think Naz won 😬 (sorry Tov)

But now Naz has to deal with Wren and the whole going through her stuff thing so… maybe Tov won in the end?

Or they both lost? Yeah, they probably both lost lmao

Moran belongs to @geospiral

Solei belongs to @solei-eclipse

Naz and Himei belong to @lookatmysillies

Akane belongs to @aakaneeee

Lark belongs to @kamersona (they must’ve moved blogs 🥲)

Cirrus belongs to @yunoftheclouds

Daiki belongs to @softinjections

Vera belongs to @junebluues

Lang (human inferno mention) belongs to @awaggaa