I write Rose Quartz Dawn and other Shiggy things

Blog tags: 

🎃 #pumpkinsnhollyhock - all of my writing, fanfic or original work 

🎃 #pnh says shit sometimes - musings and commentary of wide variety 

🎃 #pnh hcs - headcanon posts 

🎃 #pnh playlists - playlists i’ve made for various mha characters, ocs, or my fics 

🎃 #tomura my beloved - reblogs of tomura art and writing 

🎃 #[xyz] appreciation - art and writing reblogs for other characters that aren’t tomura, ex: lov, touya, toga, shinsou, aizawa… list will prob grow over time 

One By One Series / Rose Quartz Dawn tags: 

🩷 #rose quartz dawn - masterpost and chapter posts 

🩷 #rqd alert - me yapping about something that’s happening with the fic but not any actual new writing 

🩷 #rqd extras - anything i’ve written that pertains to RQD that isn’t the fic itself 

🩷 #rqd ocs - character profiles for additional oc’s within the fic 

🩷 #rqd incorrect quotes - mha incorrect quotes but they (mostly) make sense in the context of rqd 

Loud –

          - ビクン¹ -

– and heavy –

          - ビクン¹ -

– weird, horrible feelings in her whole body.

“Shh... Settle down. You’re alright.”

The auntie’s voice sounded nice, but she was mad. And it hurt.

Stooop

Let goooooo

Kyouyuu tucked her fists into her sleeves and pushed as hard as she could against the auntie. But the auntie was so much bigger and stronger and still wouldn't let her go, even though she was crying so hard she couldn't breathe.

“Kyouyuu-chan," the auntie said, "why did you tell Auntie Oba that Koibito-chan hit you?"

"She– she–" Kyouyuu hiccuped, "hurt me be–because she touched m–meee!"

"She only touched you?"

Kyouyuu flinched and wailed.

"Yes!!!"

"Oh, sweetie... That's not the same as hurting, you know that."

Kyouyuu nodded her head violently, screaming, "Yeah huh!"

"No, Kyouyuu-chan," the auntie argued, "we checked for boo boos, remember? No boo boos. There’s nothing to be upset about.”

“She hurt me,” Kyouyuu wailed, desperately flailing against the arms that held her in place, “they a–all hurt me," and began to beat her fists against the auntie's chest. "You’re hurting me!”

The auntie released her, and Kyouyuu stumbled away, falling to her knees and placing her hands flat to the floor.

It was cool and quiet, and finally, she didn't hurt anymore.

The auntie rose to her feet, sighing.

“There’s nothing wrong with you, little one. It’s all in your head.”

Kyouyuu settled onto her heels. Fresh tears welled in her eyes as she pressed her palms harder into the silent floor.

'It's not real.'

'You're imagining it.'

'It's all in your head.'

The aunties didn’t believe her. No one ever believed her.

She sat there sniffling and wiping her eyes until she heard the auntie’s footfalls walking away. When she was sure she was alone, she slid forward, letting her sleeves push back as she spread out her arms, and laid a damp cheek to the floorboards.

.·°·.┈┈°·.·° Age 7 °·.·°┈┈.·°·.

In the farthest corner of the room, in her favorite beanbag, Kyouyuu sat with her book, trying to appear as invisible as possible. Which was hard to do with the entire orphanage stuck indoors for playtime because of the rain.

This book was too young for her by now, but she liked it anyway, a picture book about dogs being silly.

"Heyyyy, I said I wanna be All Might!"

Kyouyuu tensed, and slumped further behind her propped book.

She hated when they played Heroes.

"No, no, no one can be All Might or else they'd win no matter what!"

"Yeah, that's no fair."

"Fine. Let's play Quirk Battles!"

Kyouyuu frowned as a chorus of 'yes's sounded across the room. Like there was any difference between those two games...

She turned the page, trying to ignore them.

"Koibitoooooo!"

Kyouyuu jumped automatically.

"Koibitooo! They're playing Quirk Battles againnn!"

Kyouyuu tried to stay focused on her silly dogs but couldn't help it.

"You guys!"

She lowered her book just enough to sneak a peak at where her fellow orphans were gathered, all looking at Koibito.

"No Quirks! I already said!"

Koibito's head turned just before Kyouyuu's eyes darted back to the page.

Oh no...

Kyouyuu sank back down beneath the top of her book, but it was too late.

          - JUMP -

Koibito had walked up beside her and tried to poke her.

"Whatcha doing, Flinchy?"

"Nothing, Koibito."

"Play with us."

"No, thank you."

"Why not?"

"Yeah, Kyouyuu, why not?" one of the other kids pouted, pulling up beside Koibito.

"We're playing Quirk Battles, Kyouyuu!" another one shouted, running up. "What Quirk are you gonna battle wi–"

"I said we're not playing Quirk Battles!" Koibito yelled, standing tall and blocking the other kid. "Kyouyuu and I are Quirkless. It's not fair. And anyway," she added, sneering, "she doesn't want to play with us."

Kyouyuu pushed her heels into the floor, scooting her beanbag away from the growing presence of kids. All of them stared down at her after Koibito's words, a few looking sad and a couple angry.

"You think you're better than us," Koibito said.

Kyouyuu dodged as Koibito tried to shove her knee.

"Don't tell lies," she argued, glaring. "I didn't say that."

"Then why don't you want to play?"

Again, Koibito made a swipe at her, her head this time, and Kyouyuu rolled out of her beanbag to avoid it.

"Stop it!" she cried, getting back to her feet, holding her book as a shield. "I just don't... okay?"

          - DUCK -

"Hey!" Kyouyuu shouted. One of the other kids had poked at her, too, but –

"Ah!"

Kyouyuu had moved away from the other kid right into Koibito's reach, and as she'd put the book up to protect her face, Koibito's finger touched her hand.

          - ビクン¹ -

"Taaag!" several voices called at once, sending the whole room scattering. "Kyouyuu's it!" someone yelled and Koibito laughed, too, running away.

Kyouyuu stomped forward to pick up her book which had gone flying as Koibito touched her.

"It's not funny, Koibito! I said I don't want to play!"

          - DODGE -

Someone had sneaked up behind her to 'tag' her anyway, then scurried away to a chorus of delighted squeals from the others.

"Stop! You guys!"

"She's gonna get you!" someone jeered, pushing their shrieking friend toward her.

Kyouyuu didn't move fast enough, and they stumbled into her.

          - ビクン¹ -

Then Koibito's laugher rang in her ears, too close.

          - SHRINK -

“Ha ha! Look, look, everyone! Look at her flinch!”

Koibito poked her finger at Kyouyuu again, almost but just not touching her arm, and Kyouyuu jumped out of the way.

Several more kids had crowded around her now, the fact that she was "it" forgotten as the game morphed into just Tag Kyouyuu and they started chanting.

“Flinch! Flinch! Flinch!”

Kyouyuu was breathing fast, her eyes wide, trying to keep them all in view.

“Hey hey," someone laughed, "her name should be Kyouro-oro²! Get it?”

They all laughed again, beginning to chant the mean nickname instead.

“Koibito!” Kyouyuu shouted over their voices, standing up straighter and trying not to cry. “Stop it! Tell them to leave me alone!”

“Ooooo...” several kids jeered.

“It’s just a game, Kyouro-oro,” Koibito smirked, pointing a finger in her face. "Jeez, you're so stuck up..."

“Yeah!" someone said from behind her and she turned, glaring, hoping her angry face would disguise the tears in her eyes. "Don't be a spoil sport!”

"I said I don't want to!" Kyouyuu whined, barely ducking away in time as they lunged for her, but the crowd had closed the circle around her.

“Tag! Tag! Tag!” 

The first tear fell as she stood there sniffling.

She was trapped. There was no other choice.

Kyouyuu tucked her hands into her sleeves and tried as best as she could to cover her face, attempting to push her way out of the crowd.

“You’re it, Kyouro-oro!”

          - FLINCH -

She cried out when someone’s hand tagged her cheek.

They were all laughing now — “Tag, you’re it! You’re it!” — and the other things rang in her ears. Her hands slipped out of her sleeves as she struggled, and she touched more skin.

          - WINCE -

“Kyouro’s it! She got you!”

          - JERK -

“Nuh uh, she got you! Get her back!”

          - SQUIRM -

But as hard as she tried, Kyouyuu couldn't break free.

The room started to spin, hands and faces blurring and swirling and suddenly she was on the ground, unsure how she'd got there.

Their hands were all over her.

Her head roared. Her skin screamed. Her heart was pounding, her whole body buzzing. So full of the other things, she couldn’t hear, couldn’t see, couldn’t move.

She couldn’t breathe.

     ⌜ •  °  •  Kyouyuu  •  °  • ⌟ 

A voice whispered out of the darkness.

It was soft, but she could hear it clear and calm through the deafening noise. And somehow, it sounded like it was smiling.

Who are you?

The voice giggled.

Kyouyuu didn’t know how, but she knew this voice wasn’t from the other things. This voice she could trust.

Help me. Please.

     ⌜ •  °  •  I am  •  °  • ⌟ 

The voice was right.

It wasn’t as loud inside her head anymore. Her limbs weren’t as stiff. When she tried, she realized she could move them again, could feel her own arms cradling her head and the cool floor beneath her. It was dark because her eyes were closed.

She could still feel hands poking her, but it wasn’t as horrible — the weight of their hands, the pressure of the touch, for once stronger than the other things that crossed from them into her — and she could even hear their actual voices again.

“She’s no fun.”

“What a baby.”

“This is boring, Koibito. Let’s play without her.”

Kyouyuu hugged herself tighter. 

     ⌜ •  °  •  you’re alright  •  °  • ⌟ 

The words sounded kind and warm, and for the first time, Kyouyuu felt soothed by them.

.·°·.┈┈°·.·° で °·.·°┈┈.·°·.

Kyouyuu nestled tight against the courtyard wall, making sure she was completely hidden in the shade, and tried again.

Voice?

After she'd fallen to the floor during tag, Kyouyuu had been forced to see a counselor to help with her 'social struggles'. He was a grumpy old turd who told her lots of helpful things like 'have you ever considered that the others only want to be your friend?' and 'just try, you might have fun after all'.

So instead of following any of his suggestions, she'd begun listening for the voice.

It would come every time the other things got too loud, echoing throughout her body, fighting back the unwanted noise, shielding her from the uncomfortable buzzing in her limbs.

After a while, Kyouyuu had realized the voice would come if she called to it, too. Except, she didn't want to keep calling it the voice. That felt weird.

Who are you?

But for the hundredth time, the voice giggled softly, refusing to answer her.

Kyouyuu pouted, her lip trembling, her fears and frustration finally threatening to spill over.

But... but aren't you my friend? Friends call each other by their names, right?

The voice didn't giggle that time, and its answer was soft, reassuring.

     ⌜ •  °  •  yes  •  °  • ⌟ 

Kyouyuu froze, sniffing, blinking back her tears.

Really? You're my friend?

     ⌜ •  °  •  yes  •  °  • ⌟ 

She smiled, closing her eyes and soaking in the warm feeling that flooded her.

So what can I call you?

     ⌜ •  °  •  whatever you like  •  °  • ⌟ 

She blinked.

You mean like a nickname?

But the voice giggled again.

Kyouyuu giggled, too, letting the voice's silliness get the better of her.

Are you a boy or a girl?

     ⌜ •  °  •  whatever you like  •  °  • ⌟ 

Kyouyuu thought about that. Maybe it was because she heard it in her own head, but the voice sounded like a girl to her. And as soon as she thought it, she knew it was true.

Okay. How about...

Kyouyuu thought. And thought and thought.

Part of her wanted to name her 'my friend,' but that would be way too embarrassing. Could she make it something like that, but not so obvious? Maybe if she mushed her own surname Atae somehow with yuu... That meant friend, sometimes, right?

     ⌜ •  °  •  Atayuko  •  °  • ⌟ 

Kyouyuu's eyes widened.

That's just like what I was thinking!

Kyouyuu grinned, amused with her own cleverness, pleased that her one and only friend had thought of it, too.

She hugged herself, imagining she were actually hugging her.

Nice to meet you, Atayuko!

.·°·.┈┈°·.·° Age 10 °·.·°┈┈.·°·.

Kyouyuu sat reading in the courtyard as the sun’s rays baked down on her, wrapping her up in a warm hug.

It had rained for the past several days, and she’d been going nuts cooped up inside the orphanage after school for so long. She’d almost run out of hiding places.

She thrummed her fingers along the book’s pages, reveling in how the words seemed to leap from the page and materialize before her eyes.

“Neee, Kyouro-orooo –”

Kyouyuu jumped, not noticing the approaching footsteps until Koibito had called out, and braced herself.

“Just what do you think you’re doing out here, huh? You made me look all over for you.”

          - FLINCH -

Her book was snatched out of her hands before she could recover.

“I didn’t make you do anything, Koibito," Kyouyuu retorted. "If you wanted to find me, that’s your problem. Now give it back.”

"I'm just trying to help you. Auntie Oba said no books outside so..."

"Liar. You just want to pick on me."

"You make up stuff like that but I'm the liar," she looked around at her friends who laughed.

"Give me my book back."

“If you want it," Koibito lowered her voice teasingly, dangling the book just out of her reach, "try to take it, Flinchy." Kyouyuu made a grab for the book but Koibito was ready, knocking her hand aside –

     ⌜ •  win  • ⌟ 

– and tossing the book over her shoulder. It landed across the courtyard to a chorus of laughter from her fanclub. "Oops. You scared me.”

“Excuse me, is this yours?”

Kyouyuu and Koibito both looked around at the unknown voice, and as the stranger approached, Kyouyuu squinted up at them, shielding her eyes.

They adjusted their position, shifting so the sun was behind their head, then gave Kyouyuu a soft smile, holding her book out to her.

Atayuko hummed.

Kyouyuu realized her mouth had fallen open and quickly closed it. She took the book, cradling it to her chest, and muttered a soft 'thanks.' 

“Oi, newcomer,” Koibito grumbled, hands on her hips. “I don't remember inviting you into this conversation.”

The unknown person’s face fell as they straightened — from Kyouyuu’s position, it looked like the stranger stood a foot taller — and glared down at Koibito.

“Hah! Look at this!” Koibito scoffed, looking back at her friends to follow suit, but they each looked somewhat uncertain as they smirked up at the newcomer. Undeterred, Koibito pushed on. "Newbie thinks they're a Hero! Hah! Well? What're you gonna do, Hero-san?"

The stranger didn’t respond. In fact, they didn’t move at all, except for the slightest raise of one eyebrow as they continued to look down their nose at Koibito. Kyouyuu’s eyes widened as she watched Koibito's crown slip, her picture perfect face falling into a rare glare. But then it was gone, and she donned a bored expression just as quickly.

With a tch and a dismissive hand, she muttered, “Whatever. Not worth my time.” She sent one last sneer at Kyouyuu, “Enjoy your damn book, Kyouro,” and stalked away, her cronies scurrying along behind her.

For a moment, Kyouyuu and the stranger both watched the bullies retreat, then the stranger asked, “Can I sit here?”

Kyouyuu blinked, surprised, but nodded earnestly.

They settled against the courtyard wall, drawing their knees up, and produced a spiral bound book out of nowhere. Kyouyuu watched them flip it open to a particular page, bookmarked by a pen, and began drawing.

A few moments passed in relative silence. Kyouyuu, clutching her book and wondering what had just happened, stealing nervous glances at the person now sitting beside her.

“I’m Kyouyuu,” she said eventually in a shaky voice.

The person looked at Kyouyuu, a soft smile gracing their face. “I’m Namashi. Nice to meet you.”

.·°·.┈┈°·.·° で °·.·°┈┈.·°·.

Namashi, Kyouyuu quickly discovered, was an artist.

She’d found herself by their side almost every day that week — thankfully, Namashi didn’t seem to mind — and was enthralled by their sketches.

It didn’t matter what they drew, from chairs to flowers to their fellow orphans. Everything looked spectacular. But Kyouyuu found that her favorites were their four-panel mangas: short little stories, sometimes funny, sometimes just cute, but all clever.

Currently, Kyouyuu was pretending to read while watching Namashi sketch, when Auntie Oba marched up to them, wrestling a red-faced, wriggling toddler.

“Miss Atae,” she shouted over the fussing boy, “Miss Kakure tells me you didn’t make your bed this morning. Get in there this instant and fix it.”

“What??” Kyouyuu balked. “Yes I did! Koibito's a liar!”

“Go!” Auntie Oba thrust her arm down the hallway, tucking the boy under her other arm and glaring at her. “Right now, young lady!”

Kyouyuu huffed but set aside her book. She took her time standing up, hoping that maybe the matriarch would leave to take care of the temper tantrum under her arm and she could just sit back down, but Auntie Oba tapped her foot pointedly.

“Fine, fine. I’m going –”

It happened quickly.

Auntie Oba had just nodded approvingly and turned to go on with her business, when she tripped. And the toddler she was holding tumbled through mid-air before landing onto a forgotten basket of clean linens nearby.

Kyouyuu stood frozen, eyes darting back and forth from Auntie Oba's panic stricken face to the precariously rocking laundry basket. It toppled at last, and the child rolled out shrieking with laugher before taking off down the hallway.

Auntie Oba gasped with relief, and then without sparing Kyouyuu a second glance, chased after the child.

Kyouyuu laughed, hardly believing her luck, and sat back down, flashing Namashi a smug smile as if it was her own cleverness that had gotten the matriarch off her back. Namashi was tearing a page of their sketchbook, but they, too, wore a satisfied grin, and as they folded the page into their pocket, they turned to Kyouyuu and winked.

.·°·.┈┈°·.·° で °·.·°┈┈.·°·.

Kyouyuu groaned in frustration as Namashi shook their head again, chuckling.

“You’re pushing...” they demonstrated on their own sketchbook, making a forceful vertical line, “rather than pulling,” then reversed the direction of the pen with a smooth controlled movement.

Kyouyuu sighed. She could see the way Namashi was doing it, but for some reason, her hand didn’t want to cooperate when she tried it herself.

“You’ll get it. It just takes practice. Here,” Namashi said patiently, resetting their pen. “Watch me again.”

Kyouyuu placed her pen on a clean spot of page with the felt tip hovering just above the paper, and looked toward Namashi's hand.

They pushed upward across the paper. “You can feel the resistance against the page. Hear that?”

Kyouyuu listened to Namashi's pen strokes, the slight squeaking from the pressure the felt tip made against the paper, and nodded.

“It takes more effort to control where the pen is going like this,” they explained. “But if I pull it –”

Namashi changed direction and Kyouyuu watched it glide across the page. “See how it sounds a little smoother? Like this, I can direct it easier. There's less resistance, and I can see the line before I make it. Does that make sense?”

Kyouyuu could tell that Namashi was asking honestly, and she nodded, though she was still frowning. She thought she kind of understood what they were saying. That she was supposed to visualize what she wanted to draw before she did it, not just push the pen around. But that was what she thought she’d been doing.

She hesitated for a moment –

     ⌜ •  °  •  go for it  •  °  • ⌟ 

– then looked back at Namashi and asked, “Can you show me again?” Namashi nodded, already turning back to their notebook, when Kyouyuu continued, “and... can I hold your hand?”

Namashi paused, their mouth falling open a little and blinking.

“J-just so I can get the full picture,” Kyouyuu sputtered, quickly covering for her weird request. “Feel how you hold the pen... and stuff.”

But Namashi broke into a smile, nodding emphatically. “Sure! Of course you can! Here, put your hand on mine.”

Relieved that Namashi hadn’t found her awkward, Kyouyuu slowly reached her hand out and tentatively placed it on the back of theirs.

     ⌜ •  happy  • ⌟ 

Kyouyuu smiled, feeling her muscles relax as sunshine pulsed through her limbs and wrapped snugly around her heart.

Namashi gripped their pen and began sketching, explaining to Kyouyuu again the difference between their movements, but with her hand on theirs, Kyouyuu tuned out the words and let the other things flow in.

Kyouyuu concentrated, listening hard to Atayuko's translations — how the pen felt in Namashi's hand, how their mind was focused yet free, and just for a second, how she could see the lines before Namashi made them — all laid over a soundtrack of cheery warmth.

They raised their pen, finished with the demonstration, and turned to Kyouyuu. “See?”

Kyouyuu took her hand back, surprised to find that she almost didn’t want to, and nodded, grinning.

“Thank you, Namashi!”

“No problem! What are friends for?”

Atayuko giggled.

.·°·.┈┈°·.·° で °·.·°┈┈.·°·.

It was a beautiful day, and Kyouyuu and Namashi were in the courtyard sketching which was quickly becoming their new routine.

Most of their time over the last few months had been spent in comfortable silence, the calm quiet stretching on for hours at a time, a peaceful smile resting on her lips.

Lost in blissful reverie, Kyouyuu didn’t notice the butterfly floating around her until it landed on her knee.

She froze, afraid even breathing too hard would make it fly away.

It was so beautiful, sunning its iridescent wings as if it had no other cares in the world.

Atayuko, do you see this??

Kyouyuu held in her squeal as the little insect unfurled its curlicue mouth and searched for nectar along her leggings. 

After a moment, realizing Kyouyuu’s knee had nothing to offer it, the butterfly took flight again.

Kyouyuu watched it dance halfway across the courtyard, then finally let her excitement burst out of her.

“NAMASHI!” she squealed in delight as she jumped to her feet. “Did you see that?!?”

But Namashi was already beaming, turning around their own sketchbook to show her a chibi portrait of her gawking at the butterfly.

.·°·.┈┈°·.·° Age 11 °·.·°┈┈.·°·.

Kyouyuu had been staring miserably out into the grey courtyard for so long with her forehead pressed against the window pane that the glass was beginning to steam over.

It had been raining for a week, and with no one allowed outside, the orphanage had become unbearably loud, pulsing with pent-up energy.

“Yuu-chan!” Namashi called melodically as they approached her.

“Will we ever see the sun again?” Kyouyuu bemoaned, her voice as dead sounding as Namashi's had been lively.

“Don’t be so glum,” they giggled, playfully bumping a hip into hers. “Here.”

Kyouyuu rotated her head against the glass, glad to see Namashi was in a better mood. Not only because it helped her with her own miserable spirits, but because for the last few weeks, she thought she'd noticed Namashi more down than usual — their sad but genuine smile a bit too strained, their brow furrowed when they thought Kyouyuu wasn't watching.

So she felt the corners of her lips lifting in spite of the rain, and watched Namashi pull a stack of small papers from their pocket, offering it to her in both hands.

“For you,” they said, tilting their head and smiling.

Curious, Kyouyuu vacated her post and moved closer, taking the mystery gift.

It was a little booklet made up of index cards, bound in yellow construction paper and stapled together. On the cover, drawn in simple black strokes, was a sun peeking out behind clouds.

Kyouyuu began leafing through the pages, but Namashi made a panicked noise and hurriedly stopped her.

“You flip it!” they corrected, holding the book so Kyouyuu could see, then bent back the pages all at once, letting them fall one at a time.

It was magic. Namashi's sketches, come to life.

“That’s amazing!”

Namashi beamed. “You try!”

Kyouyuu gathered the edges of the booklet between her thumb and forefinger, then released, watching the animation play in her hands, but could barely focus on the story the pictures told, her throat growing tighter with each flipped page at the sentiment that surged through her fingertips.

     ⌜ •  happy  • ⌟ 

          ⌜ •  warm  • ⌟ 

     ⌜ •  comfort  • ⌟ 

When the last page fell, Kyouyuu held it close to her chest.

She tried to say ‘thank you’ but couldn’t make her throat cooperate.

Namashi stepped forward, wrapped their arms around her, and held her tight. Their cheeks pressed together, but Kyouyuu didn’t even consider pulling away.

     ⌜ •  friend  • ⌟ 

          ⌞ •  imouto³  • ⌝ 

“I love it!” Kyouyuu choked.

Namashi chuckled.

     ⌜ •  daisuki⁴, Yuu-chan  • ⌟ 

Kyouyuu gasped. Her fingers sank into Namashi's shirt as happiness flowed out of her like a river down her cheeks.

Around them, excitement was building, their fellow orphans clapping and cheering excitedly.

“Look, Yuu-chan!” Namashi pulled back, sniffing a little, too. “The sun came out! Want to go outside?”

Kyouyuu nodded, wiping her eyes, but couldn’t fully appreciate what all the fuss was about.

The sun had already returned. It was standing right in front of her.

.·°·.┈┈°·.·° で °·.·°┈┈.·°·.

Kyouyuu woke up smiling.

She’d had a dream. She and Namashi had run away and were resting at the top of a hill overlooking a meadow. They were surrounded by wildflowers, and butterflies danced all around them.

It was a short dream, but it had played on repeat, and even as she could tell the orphanage was waking up around her, she tried to stay in it, willing herself to remain in the meadow with her best friend.

“Come, children!” Auntie Oba cried, officially bursting the magical bubble. “Hurry to breakfast. We have an exciting announcement!”

Kyouyuu sighed, finally opening her eyes and resorting to getting up.

After hurriedly dressing, she set out for the older kids’ dormitories to tell Namashi about her dream, but they weren’t there. Wondering if she’d missed them among the throng of her fellow orphans heading toward the dining hall, she joined the herd, keeping toward the wall as much as possible, tucking her hands into her sleeves.

It wasn’t until she reached the dining hall, until she approached their usual seats and found Namashi's empty, that Kyouyuu began to panic.

Her head whipped around, scanning the sea of tired, bored, or otherwise blissfully ignorant faces –

No.

No, it couldn’t be.

– until one of the aunties flapped at her to sit down.

Kyouyuu’s breaths were short and heavy as she sank into one of the two empty seats and Auntie Oba rose to address them all.

“We have exciting news, children! Your fellow housemate, Zue Namashi, was adopted early this morning!”

A chorus of applause filtered sluggishly through Kyouyuu’s ears.

No.

It's not real.

This can’t really be happening.

Her dream had morphed into a nightmare.

---

Read the full RQD Chapter 14 on ao3!