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tomorrowfortoday · 5 years
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So You Had a Bad Day
I may have been a little inspired to write a Mikane OneShot. This will only be available to read here on tumblr, so enjoy :3 *Warning: Foul language, violence, and sexual/abusive themes ahead* *But also good, happy stuff*
Just another beautiful day in the life. That’s what they all say right? People. The same people that just won’t leave her alone day after day. Today included. Oh especially today. Between having to put up with cat calls during her work hours, which she thought would give her at least a decent amount of professional respect, and being shoved shoulder to shoulder in the busy Shizume subway, Akane Himura had had enough. Even without all the antagonists she was having a bad day. Headaches, natural bad temperament which had gotten her into trouble several times that day already, and hallucinations that put louder than normal whispers in her ears and made her feel like she was under a blaring spotlight. Some days as a schizophrenic were better than others. This wasn’t one of them. Although, she would start to be a little more alarmed about it if the severity had made her call in sick. She wasn’t quite in that condition yet luckily. Every bump, every little shove of the people around her set her on edge and made her bite down on her cheek or tongue to keep from screaming at them. Or worse. It was like she could feel the heat coming off of them all. The filth, the sweat of the hot day, the stench of the auras of strangers. She hated it. It all made her want to jump into a pool of ice, just to rid her mind of any thought of them. Their suffocating heat. It was almost dark out but still it seemed as though the sparse clouds were trapping the sun’s rays in the earth’s atmosphere. The stars gave her none of the freedom she often sought from them as she left the underground station to finally breath semi-fresh city air. Her anger worsened slightly when the heavy feeling in her chest refused to dissipate. The walk home wasn’t long. The bar Homra was in an ideal spot for business, in a location easily accessible by basically all means of transport in the big, bright city. In her current state of desperation to be on familiar, happier grounds, Akane made the mistake of deciding to take a shortcut. She could handle herself, as she had proven time and time again. The thought that she shouldn’t be putting herself in dangerous situations in the first place didn’t even cross her mind. Well. Maybe it did. But nothing stopped her from ignoring and forgetting it altogether. She simply pulled the hood of her sweater up and tugged her backpack, which had her work uniform and wallet in it, closer, and tried to look as dark and invisible, or hopefully at least as scary, as possible. It didn’t work. “Hey there, whatcha got in the bag?” The man’s sticky, ill-smelling breath wafted over her and she tried to walk past without a word. “Oi, I’m talkin’ to ya!” “Yeah, and I’m ignoring you, fuck off bucko.” She flipped him off as she quickened her pace in the shadows, only to be yanked back by the wrist as the guy suddenly grabbed her. “Well well well, you’ve got a nice voice under all that. What else are ya hiding from me, sweetheart?” His eyes slowly creeped over her form and she cursed at herself for wearing shorts that day. Thoughts of what he was planning to do to her made the bile rise in her throat. Her heart rate increased and she fought off the flashbacks. Panicking wouldn’t do her any good. Panicking would only get her hurt again. The pressure on her arm built up and she yelped slightly as he tried to pull her closer, already reaching his other hand out to grope at her. And then she snapped. She used his own strength against him and used the momentum, along with her own force, to slam him against the wall behind them. A knife, which she had hidden in her pocket, was pressed against his throat and the fear that he had intended to be on her face now adorned his own. “You are fucking around with the wrong bitch on the wrong day, asshole.”  No-one would notice. He looks like a nobody. A sexist, disgusting nobody. Kill him. You know you want to. You know you miss the smell of blood. Kill him kill him killhim killkillkill. She shoved the voices away, desperately trying not to give in to their urges. Akane got right up in his face and whispered menacingly, bright grey eyes piercing into his very soul, “Don’t. Touch. Me.” She fire in her words must’ve burned him to the core because as she practically tossed him away he ran like a madman to god knows where to do god knows what. The red subsided from her vision and she looked down at her hands. Giving a tired sigh, she retracted the knife and put it back into her pocket, continuing on her way like nothing had happened. It was the best defense mechanism she had. If she pretended that nothing had happened, then it was like nothing had happened. At least... not until she was in a safe enough space to deal with it. Only for a split second did she stop to look up and wonder, would they care if something bad happened to me? Thoughts like these often crossed her mind lately. She finally had something like a home. She felt a connection with all the wonderful, albeit at times annoying, people that had welcomed her into their lives. Yata had accepted her again, or at least she hoped. Tatara fussed over her like a mother hen, or at least she thought. And Kusanagi always kept a distant but watchful eye over her to make sure she felt safe. And happy. Or so she dreamed. With her condition it was nearly impossible to get a definite read on people, so she often had to question herself, she couldn’t help but occasionally doubt them. And it wasn’t something she could be blamed for. She continued on in silence for the rest of the short journey. “Akane! Thought I’d catch you around here.” She saw Yata approaching from a little ways down the aisle of buildings and quietly cursed when she looked down at her arm. A purple bruise was already forming from where she had been grabbed, and it traveled down her hand far enough that her sleeve wouldn’t be able to hide it. She did her best anyway and put on a happy mask. “Sorry you had to take the late shift today, how was it?” The events of the day echoed through her mind at light-speed but her face remained unchanged. Horrible. Terrible. Worth forgetting and incinerating from my frikken head entirely. “Eh, you know. The usual. It was fine.” She shrugged and continued to lightly smile at him. She felt bad for it, for how frequently she used this tactic on him. But he almost always bought it so she continued to use it. “I figured. Look, me and the guys were thinking that-” he put his hand on her shoulder as she walked past, something he had done many many times before, only this time she jumped and even swatted it away. They both looked at each other in confusion. It had been entirely reflexive, Akane hadn’t even expected that from herself. “S-sorry. I... didn’t mean to do that.” “You ok?” She had made the mistake of letting the mask slip for only a fraction of a second when he touched her. Even her best friend had put her on edge and the contact made her cringe without warning. “Um, yeah. Long day. I’m just-I’ll just go home.” “Want me to walk you? You’ve been kinda on edge since this morning. It’s a bad day isn’t it?” He knew that the condition would affect her in waves. He was used to it and knew that, although it was often difficult or awkward, he had to force her to communicate so that he wouldn’t make it worse. She shook her head, “I just wanna be alone for a little while.” He frowned, obviously not liking the idea but also knowing he didn’t have much of a say in the matter. “Ok.” She smiled at him appreciatively. “Just text me when you get there.” “Yeah. Sure thing mom.” But the words didn’t have quite the same humorous ring to them. The same life. He frowned in worry but watched as his friend walked off towards their base, alone against his own better judgement. Finally, she was standing at the front door, and thanking the stars that Yata hadn’t noticed her arm in the darkness. Time for round two. It was colder than she had expected inside, and the burst of conditioned air even made her shiver at first contact. But that didn’t slow her from her newfound mission. Upon entering the building, Akane headed straight for the kitchen. She didn’t see anyone awake, which was probably the most shocking thing that whole night. The bar was closed, but it wasn’t even that late yet. Someone was definitely still up at this hour. The girl decided not to worry about it yet, and simply tugged at her sleeve just in case, finally making it to the back room with all the food. Somehow it was even colder, and she found herself wishing she had been wearing a thicker sweater. This one had mostly been for aesthetic purposes rather than functionality. Please be in here please please- aha! Tatara, you’re a lifesaver. She searched through the fridge, racing the effects of what had just transpired, to find what she had asked for. A giant jar of pickles. Some girls had chocolate or ice cream, but for some reason, whenever she had a mental breakdown or the insatiable urge to cry, pickles were the only thing that could quench her sorrows. She blamed it on probably being dropped one too many times as a kid. “Oh fucking hell, why can’t I just have one goddamn thing?!” Tears of frustration began to build up in her eyes as she struggled to open the jar. She grumbled and swore as she battled with the metal lid. She tried everything. Running it under warm water, using a dish towel, she even bent a poor, unsuspecting spoon trying to pry it open. Finally, she went back to trying to use plain old brute force. And proceeded to hurt her wrist. In a burst of fury that had built up over the last couple of hours, she raised the glass above her head, ready to just smash it on the ground and risk eating broken glass shards with her snack. But as she went to swing her arms down, the weight of the jar disappeared. She looked at her hands in confusion and jumped as someone cleared their throat behind her. Akane spun around like lightning and came face to face with none other than Mikoto Suoh. Holding a jar of pickles, which he easily opened with a satisfying pop of the lid. She refused to meet his eyes, past the emotional point of being able to fake anything. He placed the lid back on and screwed it back only partially so she could get it off again, and handed it back to her with one hand. Akane reached out to take it, and his other hand gently caught her own before she could react. The confused look hit her again when her reflexes didn’t kick in. She didn’t jump back, she didn’t smack him. Nothing. She just sat there and let it happen. She nearly broke into tears at the first comforting warmth she had felt all day. His hand was surprisingly soft and gentle as he turned hers so he could see the bruise on the back of it. It was clearly fresh, so she wouldn’t be able to lie about getting it a few days ago or anything. His aura didn’t infuriate her, didn’t make her want to rip his throat out. If anything it only served to weaken her resolve, to bring her closer to breaking down. Don’t. You’re fine. Crying is for children. Nothing even happened so stop being a baby. It doesn’t matter that his hand is warm and comforting and feels like home so suck it up and deal with it. “What happened?” She carefully, softly pulled her hand back, instantly missing his touch. “I don’t wanna talk about it.” She said quietly. He sighed and reluctantly handed over the jar. She gladly accepted it and turned away from him without another word, even more desperately trying to fight back the sobs that were attempting to choke her. Trying to ignore the emptiness she felt as she tried to put physical distance between them. They’re all the same. He’ll only hurt me if I trust him. I’m just tired and weak. People are all the same. They’ll all only betray me. They don’t care. They’re just... horrible and cold. His footsteps took him a few feet away, but then stopped. Mikoto halted in the doorway and looked back at her. It would have been funny, a girl cradling a jar of pickles like it was a child, if she didn’t look so heartbroken. The day must’ve really kicked her ass. She didn’t deserve that. He knew it. He caught slight movement in her otherwise motionless body and realized she was shivering. He never felt the cold, always able to produce more than enough of his own heat to maintain comfort. But she was different. She was fragile. She had to be taken care of, no matter what she said or how much she protested. The man frowned as she sniffled, fighting a losing battle against her own overpowering emotions. He knew she wanted to be more, or less, than human. That she did her best to fight emotions altogether. But underneath it all there was only so much she could take. He only wished he could protect her from everything that seemed to try so desperately to push her past the breaking point. Akane hugged the jar to her chest like it would stop her heart from exploding. There were too many emotions. She couldn’t deal. Not alone. Her own burdens were crushing her in the isolation she had created for herself.  Then, out of nowhere, there was safety. She turned in surprise, just in time to see Mikoto exit the room, leaving behind his jacket, which was now wrapped around her shoulders. It was still warm from his touch. It created a shelter around her that, instead of separating her from the world, protected her from it. And for the first time that night she felt safe. She wiped some of the tears from her eyes and pulled it tighter around her, a small smile forcing its way to her lips, and a mild but persistent heat rose to her cheeks. Well... maybe not all of them.
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tomorrowfortoday · 5 years
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Ch. 13
Ha totally forgot to mention... CHAPTER 13, A FADED IMAGE, IS NOW UP AND GOING STRONG please check it out :) And starting the next chapter, I’m going to begin responding to posted reviews in my author’s notes, so review away!
Comments, questions, suggestions? Don’t be afraid to let me know!
Here’s a link to the first chapter of Deepest Red:
https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12724537/1/Deepest-Red
PS~ Working on ch. 14 right now! (I promise it won’t be as boring lmao I admit 13 wasn’t my best)
Thanks guys, this means so much to me.
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tomorrowfortoday · 6 years
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Burn
To feel is to burn
And to burn is to live
And to live is to breath
Without fear
Of the seconds we are burning
-TomorrowForToday
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