image [https://files.catbox.moe/ooz0ui.png]

Day five.

Kaira is awake. It seems she couldn't sleep today, huh?

"it's itchy. it's really itchy."

If it's that itchy, you should go deal with that as soon as possible.

"..."

Do it.

"fine."

Kaira desperately gets out of bed, as if her life depended on it, stumbling towards the exit. Where has she gone? Where has she gone? The bathroom. Blood once again makes her way down her neck, to the lower half of the body, and then the dirty floor beneath her feet. fuck it hurts. god DAMN it, kaira. what's going on? what's wrong with you? what the hell is wrong with you? the pain is unbearable. no, not that pain. this whole thing is messed up. i think something's wrong. no, this is normal. don't beat yourself up over it. it's fine. this is... perfectly...

fucking...

normal...

All the thoughts are interrupted by a familiar sound -- if this entire experience wasn't enough, something's knocking on the door again. The poor girl's head, clouded by a bombardment of stimuli, can only manage to instinctively move the body it inhabits towards the source of the grueling noise, which proves to be a difficult task in itself due to the mental confusion and now blood loss.Knowing exactly what awaits her, and that being, absolutely nothing, she uses the last of her strength to open the door, making a creaking sound loud enough to wake up a hibernating bear. "shut... UP!!!"But as the words leave Kaira's mouth... It's real this time..? There's a girl on the other side.

...

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

Red...

A familiar color. It can represent many things: rage, passion, amongst countless other states of being, though in this case it bears the pain of an interesting little creature. Not in stature, mind you, this fellow is taller than your average adult woman - but rather someone whose place in society is akin to a fourth class citizen. Living in a societal limbo, lacking any form of proper connections to modern human civilization aside from reaping the scraps of those who have failed, all while being almost completely alienated from decent living conditions isn't necessarily easy on the mind. The concept of being "human" is completely foreing to the poor girl... is that... inherently a bad thing..? Where was I? Ah, yes. Red. It bathes the bathroom sink in its aggressiveness, a dull razor sitting atop it all, its implications being naught but worrisome.

"Just... hold on." The open-and-close of cabinets and rummaging of miscellaneous utensils is heard in the distance, followed by brisk footsteps.

"I told you to press it against the skin. Press it. Do not let go. Press it."

Moving back to the living room, Kaira is accompanied by an unknown girl. Though her stature is much smaller, she seems to be in her mid twenties based on her figure and facial features. Her body, now visible due to her thick jacket being used as a makeshift wound compress, contrasts Kaira's thin silhouette, with Kaira being visibly taller even though she's sitting on the floor.

"You seem to have some sort of petrolatum based ointment, this should keep the wound moiusturized... No dressing howev-"

"just use a fucking shirt."

"Um-"

"one of mine. there, on the floor, just rip it or something, i don't know. i don't fucking know. it never got this bad. i don't know."

"Y-yes... cotton fabric works."

This woman helping Kaira also happens to have a name, though it is one chosen not by her, but by her birth parents. A peculiar culture humans seem to have, far different from those we call "anima", wherein such thing as a birth name is a foreign concept. Anima offspring are simply referred to as the parent's child, until it is old enough to pick a name for itself - usually during a special occasion or ritual.

"My name's Chloe."

"uh...what?"

"Ch-...Chloe. That's my name.

"i don't remember asking." Kaira mumbles under her breath.

"What's... your name? Do you have a name?" Chloe gently moves the jacket being held by Kaira to the side, so she can rub some of the ointment on the wound.

"what- ow fuck, that stings."

"...Nevermind. There, i didn't want to ruin your clothing. I'll wash it later, do not worry." Chloe, while wrapping a seemingly clean shirt around Kaira's neck, stumbles through her words a few times, stunned by the girl's blunt way of speaking. It really seems as though following human social conventions tirelessly won't do much in this situation.