[ Don’t chase the rabbit ]
The world hadn’t shattered. There was something burning inside her, though through the haze, Kasumi could barely recognize it. Perhaps it was the light. Whatever it was, it seemed to be all encompassing, tearing through her eyes enough to make them tear. Or something else? The last few minutes seemed so fuzzy to her, blurring into the recesses of her mind. Where had she been? There had been some sort of panic, and even now, she could hear panic footsteps of high heels clacking frantically against tile floor. The smell of something… metallic? Burned briefly in her nostrils. Antiseptic too, and something rotting. Yet the world wasn’t falling apart.
“You cannot leave her like this.”
The voice promised murder, veiled by a hidden eloquence that she had always marveled even when she was still green. If she could have just a little bit of that, just a little bit, maybe the galaxy would be a little less hurtful. Maybe her mother could look her in the eye when she returned home. If she returned home. Suddenly she became too aware of her own breathing, how forced and shallow it seemed. Was it supposed to come out like that? She couldn’t remember. At least whatever she was resting on seemed comfortable, soft. Keiji’s mattress wasn’t so different in the evenings she’d watch him sleep, gentle puffs tickling her skin. He’d been there earlier, fervently calling her name. Even then, the brief sharp memory was warm.
“The… The damage is bad. I don’t think I’ve seen anything like it. … Where… where would I even start.” She didn’t recognize that voice. Salarian probably. She almost giggled at his nerves, but a fresh jolt of pain stopped it. There had been a fire. No. An explosion. Hot, twisted metal. Something went wrong.
“Do not test me doctor,” Kiera growled, “She needs to be fixed, and if you don’t do it, I will find someone who will, and I will not let the failure go unnoticed. Goddess help you, your death will not be swift.” She didn’t feel the energy so much as heard the crackle of biotics that sent the salarian fleeing out of the room to probably plan. The room quieted then, enough that Kasumi became occupied with her strange breathing for a little while. Then the clacks of heels were coming to her, and she felt a trembling hand smooth back her black hair, running through the strands in a tenderness that she hadn’t felt from the other woman in a long time.
“Kiera…?”
She paused and Kasumi could almost hear a slight hitch in her breath. “… Rest, my shadow,” and she could barely recognize the softness in the art collector’s voice, “This will only be a nightmare soon enough.” And the nails dug just slightly into the roots, brushing out the tangles and she could almost imagine the smile.
But she couldn’t sleep yet, not even with the slight trembling she felt from her body. She remembered him being there, but where…? “Is Keiji alright?”
The motions stopped, and the only feeling she distinctly felt was Kiera pulling away from her, somewhere in the distance, and the oppressive silence that remained with her until her consciousness faded.
By the time her eyesight returned, she would have plenty of moments of Keiji by her side, guiding her with easy smiles and awkward jokes to remove terse moods— dashed away with the coming months when the pain of grief washed out everything else for a much longer and more permanent scar, but sometimes she’d give pause at the mirror, noting that the amber tint in her eyes hadn’t always been there.
