Psycho Pass: Colorful World

28

Red stains stretched across the floor. Words like psychopaths and killers were scrawled in crimson across the walls. Ahead, a figure dressed in black lay motionless, face down. Yashiro's steps faltered as she approached, her heart sinking at the sight of Aoyanagi Risa's bloodied face. Among the fallen members of the Public Safety Bureau, Tsunemori Akane's presence was unmistakable.

"You and I, we are different," Touma's voice echoed through the air, haunting and elusive. Yashiro spun around, seeking the source in vain. With determination, she pressed forward, drawn by the sound until she froze in her tracks. Just meters away, a figure raised its head—it was Sasayama Mitsuru. Blood adorned his features, staining his white shirt and black suit, his fists clenched.

In a sudden blur of motion, he lunged towards her, his footsteps thundering through the corridor. Yashiro instinctively recoiled, raising her hands in futile defense as Sasayama's grip closed around her sweater, his voice a menacing growl. She felt the pressure constricting her throat, fear coursing through her veins as she squeezed her eyes shut.

But then, as swiftly as he had appeared, Sasayama vanished into thin air. Yashiro's fists remained poised, ready to fend off an unseen assailant. Slowly, she became aware of her new surroundings—the sterile confines of a hospital room. With a sharp intake of breath, she straightened in her chair as the door slid open, revealing a weary yet determined doctor.

"Inspector Takahashi," his voice was a beacon of reassurance amidst the chaos. "We have more visitors."

The room hummed with the steady rhythm of medical equipment, each beep and whirr a reminder of life's fragility. Nurses' voices drifted in from the corridor, their chatter a distant echo against the weight of the silence within.

As the doctor exited, Yashiro surveyed her surroundings. A holographic television flickered to life in the corner, casting a glow across the sterile walls. The news anchor's voice pierced the silence, delivering the grim toll of the recent tragedy.

"So far, sixteen people are confirmed dead from the attack," the anchor's words hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the peril they faced.

Turning her head, Yashiro's gaze fell upon Aoyanagi Risa lying on the hospital bed beside her. Despite the thorough medical attention she had received, Aoyanagi's figure remained shrouded in bandages. Dried blood stained her pale face, a contrast to the serene stillness of unconsciousness. Even in repose, Aoyanagi's breathing was shallow and labored, her features etched with pain.

Yashiro's expression remained unchanged, her features devoid of emotion. Her eyes scanned Aoyanagi's form impassively, registering the injuries with clinical detachment. For a moment she simply observed, her countenance as blank as the sterile walls that surrounded them.

With a resigned sigh, Yashiro pushed herself upright, her movements heavy with exhaustion. She slipped out into the bustling corridor, where the harsh glow of fluorescent lights illuminated the sterile walls.

As she navigated the maze of hallways, the distant murmur of approaching footsteps reached her ears. Instinctively, she quickened her pace, veering towards the opposite direction.

Passing a familiar door, Yashiro stole a glance inside. Through the small window, she glimpsed Kozuki Ryogo lying motionless on the hospital bed, his form obscured by sterile white sheets. Connected to a respirator, his chest rose and fell rhythmically, each artificial breath a reminder of the fragile thread that bound them together.

Yashiro tore her gaze away from her injured colleague and continued her journey through the labyrinthine corridors of the hospital. Meanwhile, as the doctor returned, he glanced around the room with a furrowed brow, a sense of bewilderment settling over him as Ginoza Nobuchika, Masaoka Tomomi, and Kougami Shinya entered.