Fragile Existence

Part 1 [Intro + Bakamono Focus]

It's a horrible thing to have to wish your friend dead. However, this was the reality for Bakamono as she sat at the bedside of her boss.

'It should have been me.'

The sound of machines providing life to Salt was louder than her intermittent sobbing and with soft fingers she traced the length of Salt's arm, that was hooked up to an IV, despite her being alive her flesh felt lifeless.

A nurse knocked on the door and then entered followed by a doctor which Bakamono had not seen before. A new doctor. Someone they had flown in to examine her condition.

"This is Shimazaki-san," the nurse introduced the patient, "She was shot twice, once through the chest and another time through the head. It's a miracle that she made it."

Bakamono couldn't help but let out a small laugh, 'Some miracle this is,' she thought to herself.

The doctor took a seat in the room then directed his attention towards the nurse giving her a look that signalled that he wanted to talk to the visitor in private. She exited the room without any fuss and continued on with carrying out her duties across the ward.

"You must be a relative?"

"I'm not. She doesn't have any living relatives," Bakamono answered, giving information away that Salt had confided in her when they first met.

He put a hand to his chin and leaned in curiously, "So who are you then?"

"I'm Ba-" she paused - this wasn't the time time nor place for her nickname, "-I'm Kawaei Rina."

"And your relation to Shimazaki-san is?"

"I am one of her best friends, we go to school together." She paused, remembering what was once said during a quiet moment in the music room, family... they were indeed that for Salt, "We are basically family."

He hummed, "I see."

---

In the room four girls crowded around the bed. The atmosphere solemn, with their hands individually clasped at waist-level in respect as they observed the comatose girl before them.

Otabe took a knee at the side of the hospital bed, her hand brushed against Salt's, choking up between words she spoke, "I promise I'll take down... get revenge on whoever did this to you."

The other three nodded to each other then to Otabe, "We will help too," they said in unison.

They wouldn't let Otabe face the person that shot Salt alone, another casualty in their gang would bring their collective downfall, they couldn't let that happen especially not in Salt's memory. The preservation of the Rappapa of Maji-jo is the least they could do for Salt to be immortalized.

"So, what are we going to do about..." Magic gestured to Salt hooked up to the life support machine, "Is it not cruel to keep this going?"

"We wait," Otabe replied shortly.

So they did.

---

There was only one light source in her bedroom. A singular white candle sat atop a table, positioned just to the side of a photo-frame containing a photograph of the Rappapa. A photograph taken to commemorate their bond, beside it an album with various other polaroids of the girls together. Sure, they spent most of their time being serious and fighting anyone who tried to contest their control of Maji-jo... but that didn't mean that was all, they often went out for group meals, to arcades, to places where they could all just relax together - usually dragging along a reluctant Salt.

Bakamono removed her gloves and placed them on top of the photo album. She put her hands together in front of her chest then blew out the candle. The smell of the extinguished wick and the melted wax tickled her nose.

"Why...," her voice cracked as a wave of emotion overwhelmed her, "I was supposed to protect you."

From inside her desk she produced the handgun she was given by her new boss, the weapon she was supposed to use to protect Salt from that man from the Yakuza who seemed to be out for revenge. She held the handgun in one hand and stroked the cold metal with the other.

"We won't let them get away with this," Bakamono whispered. That night she slept with the weapon for protection under her pillow, if the Yakuza could kill a school girl what could they do to a graduate? She didn't want to think of the possibility that she may be next.