The Unlucky Thirteenth (Akise Aru Fanfiction)

Third

Future Diary (Mirai Nikki)

The Unlucky Thirteenth

Third--The Night Rain

Summary: Alone and in hiding, Minene's nameless protégé struggles with the living conditions and has a deep, slightly rude conversation with a pale stranger.

Just a few moments later, and a dark haired girl would have been done for. Taken in by the police, questioned. Asked if she was all right, about her time as a hostage, where Uryuu Minene was now. As if the small girl would have known that. She had fled before the terrorist, but the girl with jet black hair knew that was what they would ask.

The starry sky mocked her. The lights piercing the veil of the night sky, laughing as the rain poured. The dark droplets splashed on her skin with a sad sound, as if the night was crying for all it had done to her. It should, but it was impossible.

Her boots sloshed through puddles, hood pulled up to conceal her face. Her clothes had become soaked, and the girl needed to find shelter. The road was slick, and she had fallen several times. Her teeth chattered; a throughly unpleasant sound emanated from her mouth. Like bones, or chains rattling. The thick sound of nothingness, of annoyance, of the end.

Hours earlier, she had dyed her thick hair black. She wasn't happy about it. Being blonde hailed the last testament of her family. But now people knew what she looked like. Her identity had been revealed to the entire area. Nothing could be more hazardous to a terrorist's unknown accomplice.

The girl knew from experience that one little change could make someone nearly unrecognizable. Minene had planned on making her dye her hair until things died down. It was for the best. She believed it was what she had to do. So the girl complied, regardless of what could happen next.

She tugged out her phone. Her grey cotton hoodie hadn't protected the metal device from water, but that was okay. It was a cheap flip phone, not the fanciest thing ever. That was fine. The cellular device served her needs and purposes, being paid for by Minene's fake ID.

From the only pocket that had stayed dry, the girl pulled out a half-eaten, chocolate chip granola bar. An American sort of thing, she had heard. Her assumptions may have not been correct, but that meant the people talking about it were wrong. Blame them.

She had used one of her fake IDs and a few coins she had palmed from a white haired boy on the street. He hadn't noticed anything as the girl pretended to stumble into him, apologizing profusely. The streets were slippery and she had bad shoes, or so she claimed. He had nodded, told her it was no big deal, and helped her to my feet before telling the girl to take care and walking away.

People were idiots. Getting pickpocketed that easily? Stupid fools. You couldn't trust everyone you met. Especially not strange teenagers collapsing in the middle of the sidewalk.

She had roamed the small corner store for something more substantial, but nothing was in her price range except pocky and gross-looking, cheap ramen with the package torn in two corners.

The blue eyed girl had taken her chances with the granola bars and pocky. She had paid posing as Takara Shihoji, getting a box of pocky and two granola bars. Shehad gotten almost nothing back in change, and what she did she tucked the coins deep into her pocket.

She sat down on a bench in the park, the coldness of the bench freezing her legs off. She shivered. The chocolate was really, really good, and the granola was coated in some sort of hardened syrup. It tasted delicious...and also made her hungrier. She stared at the bits of granola still stuck to the wrapper, before picking them off and popping them into her mouth. She began to search for the nearest trash can.