With a sigh, I closed my eyes, the rush of the wind and the roar of the rain blending into a deafening white noise.

The rain was beating against my helmet as I piloted the Grav Bike, the city lights blurring into a watery mirage beneath us. My hands were clenching the handles so tightly that my knuckles were white, my body rigid with tension. Every muscle in my body was taut as a wire, ready to snap.

The sight of her falling still haunted me, the image seared into my brain like a brand. I couldn’t believe what had just happened, couldn’t process the horror and the dread that had filled me when I saw her leap from the bridge.

The image of Natasha jumping played over and over in my head like a haunting melody. It mingled with the memory of the shouting match between Carrie and Natasha earlier that day at school, the nasty words hurled at Natasha still echoing in my mind. Seeing Natasha there, suspended in mid-air and soaked to the bone, was a sight I’d never forget. The sight of her trying to end her life... I felt a tight knot in my stomach, a sense of guilt and dread that was slowly consuming me. I’d known she was struggling, but I had no idea she was feeling this hopeless.

Natasha looked pale, her skin an almost sickly white against the cloudy sky as she shivered against me for body heat. The irony was a bitter pill to swallow. The girl who had made my life here suck and driven Natasha to the brink was the one who had pulled her back from the edge. The complexities of their relationship were lost on me, the back and forth of blame and regret, the friendship lost to time and grief.

As I stole a glance at Natasha, I saw her crying into my shoulder, her body shaking with sobs. Carrie was behind me, her usually composed demeanor shattered, her sobs filling the silence between the gusts of wind and rain. For a moment, I was taken aback by the rawness of their emotions, the depth of their shared pain.

“Snap out of it!” I shouted to Carrie, in the middle of the school hallway as she stared up at me in shock.

I had heard Natasha’s words as she disappeared in a flash of pink light.

I needed to find her.

WE needed to find her.

The two of us rushed outside the school grounds, racing against time as I asked Raiju to stop whatever it was doing and locate Natasha’s phone.

The AI had traced her location to the Brookstone Bridge. It had summoned the trusty vehicle to my side, and we'd taken off into the stormy afternoon sky like a rocket, my heart pounding in my chest and adrenaline coursing through my veins. The AI’s gentle voice had been my only guide, its precise directions taking us to the bridge in a matter of minutes.

I saw Natasha, teetering on the edge of the bridge, about to jump. I screamed out her name, pushing the vehicle to its limits as I raced towards her. I saw her leap just as I got to her, the bike faltering as it hit a pocket of turbulence and wind, causing me to lose precious seconds. But then, out of nowhere, Carrie’s hands began to glow with magical energy. She caught Natasha mid-fall, her magic forming a rush of air and turbulence that stopped her descent. The very same brand of spellwork that had trapped me over two months ago.

I pulled Natasha onto the vehicle clutching her shaking body against mine as I tried to steady my racing heart. The sight of her teetering on the edge, about to jump, replayed in my mind over and over, causing a lump to form in my throat.

I looked back at Carrie, seeing her wet face distorted by a mix of relief and raw fear. I'd never seen her look so vulnerable, so human. Despite all the grief and pain she had caused, she had saved Natasha. It was confusing, contradicting, and I didn't know what to feel.

With my heart pounding, I had one clear thought: we needed to get out of here, now.

In a rush, I hit the throttle, steering the vehicle back towards the city, away from the stormy waters. The wind howled around us, the rain a relentless torrent against our bodies, but I kept my focus, keeping us steady despite the inclement weather.

My heart ached, seeing Natasha in so much pain. I couldn't help but feel responsible. If I had seen the signs more clearly. If I had done something sooner, if I had acted on my concerns, maybe I could have prevented this.

But then I shook my head. This wasn't the time for regret. I needed to focus. Natasha was safe, for now. Carrie... well, Carrie was a puzzle I'd solve later. The whereabouts of Midori and the others as well.

Right now, I had to take care of Natasha.

We landed on a highway with a jarring thud, the bike skidding slightly on the wet tarmac. The traffic was non-existent due to the weather, but the road was still slick with rain. I pivoted at a light, heading straight for home — Midori and Talia’s home, rather.

I turned my gaze to Natasha, who was still pressed against me. Her body shook with sobs, the occasional whimper escaping from her lips. Her words replayed in my head, ‘You want me gone, remember? Want me to disappear! Why would you save me, Carrie?! You said you wished I would disappear!’

Her anguish echoed in my ears, a painful reminder of the toll this life had taken on her.

Carrie was now in the back, silent. I could hear the shaky breaths she was taking, the sobbing had subsided but the tension was palpable. I could feel her eyes on the back of my head, her guilt, her regret. She had seen the same thing as I did, the same scene that would undoubtedly haunt us both.

“I’m taking her home. Well, to Midori and Talia’s house at least," I said, my voice barely audible over the howling wind.

"Home?" Carrie questioned, her voice a shaky whisper.

"Well, I'm definitely not taking her to your mansion, Carrie," I shot back, my words harsher than intended. I could feel her flinch slightly behind me. "We can't just leave her alone right now," I continued.

The image of Natasha's desperate leap was still fresh in my mind. I didn't trust Carrie, not after what she had done, but I had to admit she was right about one thing. We couldn't leave Natasha alone. She needed someone. She needed us, for better or for worse.

"And my place is out of question," I added, "Not with Midori and Talia missing."

For a moment, Carrie was silent. Then she gave a curt nod. "Alright," she muttered, her voice barely audible above the rain pounding against our helmets.

A few heartbeats passed before she spoke again. "I won't leave her side. Not until she's safe."

Her words were firm, and for a moment, I almost believed her. I knew she meant it, her guilt was palpable in the air around us. But did she truly understand the gravity of her actions? Could she fully grasp the damage she'd done? I had to admit, I was unsure.

But one thing was certain. We were all stuck in the same sinking ship. Natasha was hurting. Carrie was remorseful. And I... I was just trying to keep us afloat. And right now, that meant taking Natasha to the safest place I knew - Midori's house.

Midori and Talia’s home was my safe haven and sanctuary. It was a place that was quite literally feng shui’d by Talia, and right now, Natasha needed that more than ever. It was also a practical choice. The house was isolated, located at the outskirts of the city, far away from prying eyes. It was the perfect place for Natasha to heal, to process everything that had happened.

With that thought, I kicked the vehicle into a higher gear, the city lights becoming a blur as we sped towards Midori's house. The rain still fell, drenching us to the bone. The storm raged on, its fury echoing our turmoil. But amidst the chaos, I felt a flicker of hope. A tiny spark in the darkness.

It was a start. A small one, but a start nonetheless.

The rest of the ride was quiet, the only sound being the hum of the bike’s engines and the steady beat of the rain against our helmets. Each of us was lost in our own thoughts, consumed by the reality of the situation.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

As we neared Midori and Talia's house, I noticed how eerily quiet the neighborhood was. The large, two-story house loomed in the distance, its lights casting a warm glow amidst the dark, stormy night. It was strangely welcoming, a beacon of hope amidst all the chaos.

I glanced back at the girls, both their faces pale and gaunt, as the bike skidded to a halt.

“Hold on, I'll get the door,” I said, jumping off the bike. I fumbled with the keys for a moment, my hands still shaking from the adrenaline and shock. Finally, the door creaked open, revealing the dimly lit hallway.

“Come on… let’s get you inside,” I said to Natasha, offering her my hand. Her hand was cold, a stark contrast to the warmth I was used to. She nodded, gripping my hand tightly as I helped her off the bike.

Carrie was next. She moved stiffly, her face still shockingly pale. As she stumbled off the bike, I offered her my hand. She hesitated for a moment, looking at my extended hand, before finally taking it.

"Thank you, Ikki," she mumbled quietly.

For a moment, I just stood there, staring at the two girls before me. Natasha, who had almost given up on life moments ago, and Carrie, the girl who had caused so much pain yet had just saved Natasha's life.

It was a strange feeling, to be caught in the middle of such a tangled web of emotions and regrets. But right now, it didn't matter. Right now, all that mattered was getting them inside, safe and dry. We had plenty of time to figure out the rest.

With a deep breath, I led them inside, kicking the door shut behind me. Natasha and Carrie were safe, for now. But the lingering thoughts of what had just happened weighed heavily on my mind. We had a long night ahead of us, and possibly even longer days to come. The future was uncertain, but I knew one thing - we needed to stick together, now more than ever.

As I guided them to the living room, I couldn't help but think about Midori and Izumi. I could see Midori's things scattered around, her presence still echoing in the space despite her absence. I thought about the others — Ranjika, Dior, and Morada. How they were missing, how we were supposed to be a team. Talia was on her way back, and I promised her I would get back to her as soon as I could. Right now, all I had were two broken girls, a haunting memory of a near-tragedy, and a home that felt too big and too empty.

We had a lot to figure out, a lot to process. But for now, this was our sanctuary, our home. For now, we were safe. But for how long? That was a question I didn't have an answer to. Yet.

I walked over to the couch in the living room and gently laid Natasha down, my heart aching as I looked at her tear-stained face. Her eyes were puffy, and the edges of her lips had a bluish tinge from the cold. I quickly ran to the kitchen to get some hot tea, leaving Carrie with Natasha. I heard them murmuring, but I was too preoccupied to make out the words.

As I put the kettle on the stove, my mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. My own guilt and regret were gnawing at me, mixing with a sense of relief that we'd managed to save Natasha in time. I looked down at my hands, thinking about how powerless they were in the face of all the adversity we’d suddenly been presented with recently. Kuromaru, Midori’s ever-faithful black cat, meowed softly at my feet, nudging my leg as if trying to comfort me.

"Hey, Kuromaru," I murmured, bending down to stroke his glossy black fur. "Things are a mess, huh?"

He purred softly, rubbing his sleek body against my legs. A small comfort amidst the turmoil. I reached down, my hand running through his soft fur as I waited for the water to boil.

After preparing the tea, I washed my hands and grabbed a few blankets from a closet and returned to the living room. Natasha and Carrie were sitting in silence, both lost in their thoughts. Their faces were still pale, and their eyes reflected an unfathomable depth of sadness.

"Here," I handed them the cups of tea, their warmth seeping into my chilled hands. "And these should help you warm up," I added, tossing them the blankets. Natasha caught hers mid-air and instantly wrapped it around herself, her eyes never leaving her cup of tea. Carrie, on the other hand, took hers without a word.

The smell of hot tea wafted through the room, mixing with the lingering scent of rain on our clothes. I watched as they took cautious sips, the heat of the tea bringing a slight blush to their cheeks. For a moment, there was a comfortable silence, the sound of the rain drumming against the window creating a calming background melody.

It was Carrie who broke the silence. "Do… do you remember when we used to play tea party, Natasha?"

I looked at her, a curious smile crossing my lips. "Tea party?"

Carrie nodded as Natasha blushed tomato red. "We were just kids. We had an old wooden table in my backyard and we would pretend it was a grand tea party. We would spend hours making mud pies and pretending they were exotic delicacies to my mother’s chagrin."

Natasha sighed, and her lips quirked into a small smile at the memory. "I remember. You always insisted on being the queen. You even made a crown out of daisies and would refuse to take it off until the 'party' was over."

Carrie chuckled softly. "Yeah, I did, didn't I? I was such a bossy kid. But you always played along. You were always there for me."

Carrie paused, her expression turning somber. "I… I wish I had been there for you, Natasha. You were my best friend and I let my jealousy, grief, and anger get in the way. I'm sorry."

I watched as Natasha took a deep breath, her gaze refusing to meet Carrie's. "You hurt me, Carrie. You really did.”

I listened to their conversation, an observer to their shared history. The memory they shared, of their childhood tea parties, was bittersweet. It was a small glimpse into their past, a moment that had been buried under years of resentment and guilt.

Natasha’s voice cut through my thoughts. “I don’t know what to feel right now, Carrie. It’s just all too much.”

Her voice was just above a whisper, yet it echoed around the room, amplifying the heaviness that hung in the air.

Natasha was quiet for a while, staring at her tea, her expression unreadable. Then, after what felt like an eternity, she looked up, her eyes meeting Carrie's.

"You're right. You have been," she said quietly. Her voice wasn't harsh or angry. Just... tired.

Carrie blinked, looking taken aback. But then, she nodded, her expression firm. "I want to make it right, Natasha. I... I want to be a better person."

I watched their exchange, my heart aching. Here were two girls who had once been the best of friends, torn apart by circumstances and choices. It was painful to watch, but at the same time, it was strangely hopeful.

"I know you do, Carrie," Natasha said softly. "And I want to believe that you can. But it's going to take time. And it's going to take effort."

Carrie nodded, her gaze steady. "I understand."

They both fell silent after that, their conversation coming to an abrupt end. But the silence wasn't uncomfortable. It was contemplative, filled with shared memories and newfound hope.

The sound of the rain beating against the windowpane seemed louder than before. Carrie was silent, her face a mix of guilt and regret. Natasha looked at her, her eyes filled with a mixture of hurt and sadness. Despite everything, I could still see the remnants of their friendship, the bond they shared. It was tarnished, broken even, but it was there.

"You know, you always made the best mud pies," Natasha said after a while, her voice soft and quiet.

Carrie looked at her, surprise written all over her face. But then, she smiled. It was a small, hesitant smile, but it was genuine.

"And you," Carrie began, her voice trembling slightly, "always made the best daisy crowns."

Their conversation was cut short by a sudden knock at the door. It startled me so much that I nearly dropped the cup I was holding. My heart pounded in my chest as I turned towards the sound.

Talia? Could it be her? She was the only one who knew we would be here. But then why didn't she use her key? She must have forgotten it in her rush. I quickly set my cup down, rushing to the door.

My hand hesitated over the knob.

The knock came again, louder this time, followed by a weak, muffled call. My heart pounded in my chest as I approached the door. I wasn't sure who it could be, but the sense of dread I felt was undeniable.

Who could it be at this time? The neighborhood was empty.

Talia said she was hurrying over, but this was too soon, wasn't it?

With a deep breath, I grabbed the knob, my mind racing with possibilities.

Talia, Midori... Izumi? Or could it be someone else? What if it's an enemy?

"Who is it?" I called out tentatively.

No response.

The silence was deafening. My heart pounded in my chest. The tension was palpable, a thread ready to snap. All eyes were on me, waiting, watching.

Raiju? I called out for my companion.

"...Ikazuchi, I highly suggest you open that door."

Carrie looked at me, her expression filled with confusion and a hint of apprehension. Natasha, on the other hand, remained silent, her face serious and alert. It was like a switch had been flipped in her.

I placed my hand on the doorknob, taking a deep breath before slowly twisting it. The door creaked open, revealing the silhouette of a girl standing in the pouring rain. Her blonde hair was plastered to her face and neck, and her clothes were drenched, sticking to her body in a way that suggested she was shaking. It was hard to make out her face in the dim light, but the sight of her filled me with an uneasy feeling.

“Ikki…” she croaked, her voice barely audible over the thunderous rain. She took a step forward, her body swaying. "Ikki... I..." she began hoarsely..

And then, she collapsed.

Reacting quickly, I managed to catch her just before she hit the ground. She was cold, her skin pale and her body was trembling. She was covered in dirt and, upon closer inspection, I noticed the alarming sight of dried blood and deep cuts scattered across her body, arms and legs. Her immaculate clothes were torn and shredded in several parts.

I felt my heart drop into my stomach as I slowly recognized the girl in my arms. The realization hit me like a bolt of lightning, leaving me stunned and horrified.

Her blonde hair was matted with blood and mud, her usually vibrant eyes dull and glassy. Her clothes were torn and stained, and she was shaking, whether from cold or shock, I wasn't sure. She looked like she'd been through hell, and my heart ached at the sight. The look on her face was one of pure exhaustion and desperation, but there was also relief, as if she'd been running for a long time and had finally found safety.

"M-Morada!" I shouted, staring down in shock.