â take a breath , spit out the blood in your mouth , and get back up on your feet . you still got a couple motherfuckers to prove wrong .  â
She'd barely gotten used to regular trials; these two vs eights were brutal. She was carrying her weight; five survivors dead, three of them by her hand. She wasn't letting her companion down. Unfortunately, she was also cracking under the pressure.
Each chase leaves her a little more overwhelmed. She barely remembers kill #3, an outburst of emotion more than a carefully calculated hunt. The âsoon to be kill #4â was Kate.
Of course Kate had to be here; beautiful voice, beautiful hair, beautiful face. Sadakoâs never actually spoken to her, but she knows the type of woman she is. She could make friends easily, pull any man she wanted. If she hadn't ended up here, she'd likely be married with a handful of children by now.
Jealousy burns within her. Why does Kate deserve to be Kate, while Sadako is stuck being Sadako? The onryĹ wants to make her suffer for it. She almost lands the hit- only to be slammed in the face with a wood pallet.
She screams, but it does nothing to keep the survivor from taking the opportunity to put distance between them. With any hope of catching Kate disappearing, she takes the opportunity to collapse, hugs her knees to herself, fingers tangle in her hair. Why can't anything ever just be easy!? Why can't this just be over with already!?
She senses another behind her before he ever speaks. She attempts to throw him across the map with her telekinesis, but he doesn't seem to budge. Not a survivor. Her teammate, come to kick her while she's down for acting like a stupid, jealous, child instead of the killer she's expected to be.
Not what she's expecting.
She tilts her head, looks up at him. âWhy do you care what I do?â