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011. TUG OF WAR ( chapter eleven! ) ʰᵒʷ ᵈᵒᵉˢ ⁱᵗ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʳᵉᵃᵗ ᵐᵉ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈᵒ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ˡᵃⁱᵈ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʰᵃⁿᵈˢ ᵘᵖᵒⁿ ᵐᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵐᵉ ʷʰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ? - blue monday, new order
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IT FELT LIKE mere seconds of Asuka floating in a vapid void of nothing and everything all at once. All around her was pitch blackness where no light could enter enclosing around her reality as she simply drifted in an endless void of tranquility. She couldn't see anything but her body — that was all she was. Just a body sinking. The sensation of hands, filthy, filthy hands was there, and they carried her across the sea — a liquid stained in crimson, as they touched, poked and prodded at her like she was an experiment project, they did whatever they pleased with her. She was left feeling weightless, numb and delicate. Like a trembling leaf falling from an old decaying tree, she went wherever the wind took her. She couldn't control it. Nothing could disturb the sanctuary of a dreamless sleep — a taste of an afterlife while still being alive, still pumping blood throughout her fatigued body.
If Asuka could remain in this state forever, she would, but eventually she'll have to be awakened, shucked from the void of tranquility and forced to dance once her eyelids blink open. She felt content being away from the land of the living — far too content that it worried her. What was wrong with her? What was happening? Who was this girl?
It was mere seconds.
The previous night, she mistakenly had rested her throbbing, burning head against the cold, dirty floor, and closed her eyes, unable to keep them open any longer as they kept rolling back to expose the whites of her eyes — a concussion, she had deduced, had left her feeling even more sluggish and exhausted than she had been, from when Deok-Su had landed a hit against her jaw, and she smashed her head into a bed as a result. Her speech was slurred, her vision was fuzzy, and she knew she shouldn't have fallen asleep, but there wasn't much else she could have done. There wasn't much else there. She wouldn't have gotten help. She couldn't look weak, she couldn't look defective. If there's a chance she could be abandoned because she was injured, then she wasn't willing to risk it.
Music could be heard playing in the distance, her own personal marching band singing her awake, though it was muffled and quiet like it was coming from another room. It reached her just enough for her to notice it but not enough for her to react. She was floating beneath an ocean, the liquid gurgled in her ears. Was she dead? Dying? Was this the music that was taking her to the afterlife? Was she delusional? Asuka tried to open her eyes but found she couldn't. She wasn't ready to wake up, yet.
Hands.
Hands touched her. Poked her, prodded her. Her mind screamed, her body didn't react. Madness ignited in every atom of her body begging her to do something. But she couldn't wake up. Her name was heard from above her, a gentle hand reaching out through the darkness to help her to her feet, to help her come back down to earth, but her first instinct was to kick it away, punch and swat and scream at it. What had she become?
