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The bad part was that there was a time limit on the suit as well. Well figuratively. You can't be out in extreme conditions with it on as it would tighten or get stuck. That was also a bad thing as the rainy season had started. It was coming down pretty bad. I brushed off my own well being again, but luckily my better half called me off from work for a day or two.

I was alone for most of the day. Just... alone. But the whisper came back. It was chastising me for being so lazy. Saying I should go out and get some interviews. What interviews? It wanted me to work... and I didn't disagree. Two days turned into four and eventually I was going crazy stuck in a small apartment with the rain coming down and only video games to keep me busy. I had developed a new habit thought. I clicked pens. Oddly... I cluld never find the pens after only a few hours. I would always find ash or a bit of smoke. Things were starting to get scary. I wanted to tell my girlfriend but nothing... I just always had a nagging little voice in my head telling me it didn't matter.

Another day went by and I couldn't take it anymore. I put on the clothes the suit came with, grabbed an umbrella, and walked out of the apartment. I got to my car and drove allthe way to my office where I was stopped by the front desk woman. She asked for a name. For some reason my head was telling me in hushed little whispers "Chitose~" "Chitose~" but.. that was not my name! I said my name and showed my badge. She looked at me weirdly. Grace, the receptionist I was pretty close with... didn't believe me. She didn't believe me one bit. I got a bit flustered and decided to prove it to her. She seemed almost scared. I mean a blue skinned woman with dark eyes glaring at you... had to be scary for anyone. So in a polite tone I sinply said. "Just speak into the recorder and we'll get all your answers right, Okay Grace?"

I would have never spoken like that before... but something told me that was right. There was a look of fear in her eye and I smelt a little smoke. I had one of the company pens in my hand before. Helped calm me. Where did it go? She promptly called security and I was escorted out by John. I tried to reason with him as well but he just called me a freak and threw me out... into the rain.

I quickly panicked and reached for my umbrella, but as habit I had put it inside ans John was firm in not letting me go inside to grab it. He even snatched the ID off my neck. People were staring at me as I freaked out, the puddle around me feeling dangerous. I ran to my car, eyes all around me. They were all staring. They all knew the pain of someone with a quirk... but...wait what? No that wasn't true... I drove off quickly, getting back to the apartment to see my girlfriend there waiting for me. She looked pissed and I looked broken and scared. "Come on." She pulled me inside our apartment and started to dry me off.

We had a long talk about this. About how we should try rhe suit again. Maybe water would make it easier to come off. I blatantly told her it wouldn't. She got to the zipper and it got stuck as it came down. Halfway down my back... it was like the parts for it were sealing! Quickly she went to look up how to solve this. She was so nice... I wanted to know even more about her.my curiosities were getting the better of me. I grabbed a pen out of the drawer and started to click it. It felt right... until my thumb hit my hand. Where was the pen? My pen was gone? My girlfriend came running to me panicked. I looked surprised. "Wh-What?"

She looked at me horrified. "What the hell was that?!" She shouted.

"What? What was what? I was just sitting here!" I looked at her defensively.

"The big crash! What was that sound?!"

I got a bit angry and my eyes turned to a cold glare. "Babe. There was no crash. I have no clue what the hell you're talking about." A voice chirped in my head. Curiosity. "But... why don't you tell me?" I put down what I thought was a recorder. Where did I get one of tbose. She looked at me like I was insane. Some ash came out of my blue hands. She was even more scared.

"Babe I... I need a bit." She started to walk away and I felt awful. How could I recover from this? What was happening to me? This was... this could be cleared up. This always could. I could just publish my side of the story. Just tell them the fact and they would see... or... I could embelish a bit. Have a clear victim. Show what people with quirks were really facing. Wait... that word... qurik... what the hell was that word? Why did my mind just keep filtering it in? What was I telling myself? I didn't follow my girlfriend. I could hear her talking on the phone in our room. I just sat and watched TV for the rest of the night... I felt bad. I slept there on the couch in these clothes.

The next morning I woke up early, Heather was going to work. I wished her a good day but she didn't really want to speak with me after last night. Another person treating me like scum. But no... no that wasn't quite right... but it would get readers on my side... "What readers?" I said aloud, now just starting to talk with the voice in my head.

Why the ones who read all your posts. That's a start for a fledgling journalist.

"But I'm not a journalist.."

But aren't you Chitose? Are you not Chitose Kizuki?

"No....that's...that's the name of the suit."

Yes it is your name.

This was getting bad. I was starting to realize how bad it was. I needed to take it off. I ran to the bathroom, the voice in my head asking me so many questions. They bombarded me with them. I grabbed the zipper. I started to pull, groaning turned into me trying to cover yelling... it felt like someone was pulling off my skin. That was until I heard it. A crackle then a bang. Not a loud bang but... something heppened. Something made my hand and back warm. Then I felr a trickle... my back was bleeding. I looked in the mirror. The zipper was gone. Dust. There was ash and smoke from where it was. I gasped and tried to hold it all back. I grabbed a towel and ice and held it against my back.

I got my phone and texted Heather.

"Help." "Heather I need help." "Heather please. Something is wrong with me."

I felt the voice again. Asking me how it felt. It was asking me how this entire thing felt. I was now on the floor of the bathroom, interviewing myself. From one question to another.

How did it feel? the curious voice would ask.

I tried to not respond but they demanded I say it out loud. Loud enough for the phone to hear. "It... it hurt... I...I'm not normal. I'm not okay. This isn't normal." I was struggling but the questions kept coming.

How are you not normal? You seem quite upstanding to me.

"No...stop talking. Stop..."

It went on for what felt like hours, but in reality it was only three. Heather had a job that was not too far. She was ignoring me blatantly at first. Angry about last night. She felt like I was gaslighting her, scaring her. I was destroying myself. I was like a ticking time bomb right now.

Eventually she came home though. She found me in the bathroom, conducting a very pained interview with myself somewhat lucid. One eye darted to her as she came in, the other following. "Oh god..."

She got me up, seeing some bleeding on my back. The thing was small. By this point Heather pieced a few things together. While at work she had done some research, it was on her mind. How could it not have been.

There were some things she suspected. One. There was some sort of character put into the suit. Two... I somehow had Chitose's power but without knowing I would use it without meaning to. Three, I was struggling with both sides. On one side I was Chitose Kizuki, world famous journalist and reporter. Ally to the meta liberation front. On the other I was myself, trying to wrestle control away from the other but slipping through. Life would be hard... but she was calming me. Since the zipper was no issue right now we could get a light rinse.

I stripped and got in the shower as did Heather. She helped me wash as I was struggling... it was kind and I asked a few questions. But... she pretended not to answer. I could feel it pissing me off.

We eventually got out. My back cleaned and her bandaging it. This was not good for my status, bleeding through the suit could do some serious damage. All the while we did this she told me about support groups. If she were to stay I would need to join one.

I wanted her to stay, although Chitose could care less. We were going to look into them. They each had a decent sized group as this kind of skinsuit morphing was becomming more prevalent. Heather got me signed up for one. I would be starting in the next week. All the while she called a co-worker of mine. A friend. He came over and was... well... shocked and horrified to see the woman who apparently blew up Grace's mug in front of them.

It was hard to convince them to stay but slowly we got him in. It was important to both have this explained to my boss and to have outside relations. Feeling secluded would just make this worse. Alan, my friend, agreed to tell my boss but never said itbwould go well. Although... my other half tried to turn it into an interview. They ignored it again... I felt the anger.

By the next week I was in a support group, I had been getting information out of each of the others who were like me. It felt invigorating, although some didn't answer. That pissed me off. We went through strategies to help and while I had some, I could tell the instructors and other patients were a bit wary of me. My suit was that of a villain. And it didn't take long for me to show that either. It was a bad day for me. Got in a fight with my friend over my increasingly personal questions.

The voice told me to use my quirk. I didn't. I held off. Then one of the others had mocked me. My curiosity was being mocked. Ao i started to interview him. Others saw this as a hostile interrogation. Now these meetings could get a bit... hostile. They could get a bit bad. But I took it to another level. I finally snapped and used it. I used my power. I detonated a button on their suit. They flew back. I stood there stunned. One half of me was happy to weaken the idiot. The other was mortified.

I was retrained even if I did tell my side of the story. The guy was hospitalized and I was taken to court. The jury deemed me unfit to stand trial... it became controversial. It became a news frenzy. I got to be in the news. It made me feel good. I got to tell my side of the story. People were starting to believe me.

However... the jury did find me fit to go to a facility to be housed. There were people who were like me there. But I wasn't like them. The voice kept telling me I was just in what I was doing. I was right. I was seen as a dangerous woman. Heather still visited because she understood. We still got along but it was strained... I did have an idea.

I was a journalist right? Why not write a book about this. Why not interview both inmates here and people victim to suits like mine. Sure people looked at me like a monster and a freak... but I could spin any tale to be in my favor... I just needed a bit of time.