2014-03-13 - Casual Dismissal
| Title: <Your title> | |
|---|---|
| Summary: With the harsh realities of the life of a Puella Magi bearing down upon Eri; she realizes sacrifices must be made if she's going to survive. | |
| Who: Eri Shimanouchi, Tadamasa Shimanouchi, Kyubey, Yaori | |
| Where: A residence in Chofu Suburban District | |
| OOC - IC Date: 12/15/2013 - 03/14/2014 | |
Snap.
That sudden and abrupt feeling of being dumped out of bed. A moment of acceleration followed by a sharp jarring impact. Only without moving. Just the pressure, the tingling sensation wearing away in moments. It's difficult to see at all, blackness surrounding her, as scalloped shaped wedges of pale light from what look like tiles highlighting the number eight paint any sort of reality at all. But the knowledge of where she is, is so deeply rooted in her mind that she can't help but recognize it from the most primal of instincts, survival.
An alleyway twisted into a strip of infinity. The very weight of this landscape presses down upon her. A palpable sense of helplessness, hopelessness.
And then the music began. At first it sounded like the shrill chorus of a modem signal, but it changed. A symphony led by something predatory. The very reality of the place responded, shifting and roiling, as spider like razor-thin strands shimmering in the pale light appeared everywhere, criss-crossing the length and breadth of infinity. Stacked wooden boxes that looked like jenga towers erupted everywhere. A true maestro was directing this orchestra. A pounding pulse began to quicken within her ears. That most base of instincts bellowed at her to run.
It could not be reasoned with. There was no sympathy to be found from it. It wasn't malevolent, it simply was. There was nowhere to go, as that feeling of powerlessness bore down upon her. The symphony reached its finale, it's pace 'presto', before ending with the twang of a string, exaggerated, dispassionate, and casual. A hibiscus flower dominated her vision, sanguine and matted with something wet, wilting away petal by petal. The beat slowed, then became muted, then became still.
The real impact was more subtle, sedate in comparison. The welling up of those reflected pools was not.
==
"Chichi, I intend to quit."
Breakfast was not the best time to break news like this, but she started nevertheless while sitting in seiza, dining over thin strips of nori in a bowl. The two were alone, and she couldn't bear to hold it in any longer.
The man seated across from her was not an imposing figure to her, despite his background. Tadamasa Shimanouchi's military life was kept decidedly separate from his home life other than the few stories he chose to share, or what he occasionally watched on the television. Looking up at her from his own bowl, his voice seemed sedate when he replied, "Quit what, Eri?"
There was gravity between these moments, as she gathered her thoughts, the courage to speak up, "All extracurriculars, everything but school." That sounded terrible enough without qualification, so she took some well-meaning advice that had been given to her. "There is something that I have to do, something important. I can't tell you what it is, but it has to do with what you taught me about protecting people. I need to devote myself to that fully."
The pregnant pause lingered in the air, as Tadamasa put down his chopsticks, his gaze boring into her. He offered her a highwayman smile, "You have always been so responsible, Eri, so I have let much go in these past couple of months. You leave before the sun rises every morning, and you come home late every night. I was happy for you, as I'd thought it was a symptom of your newfound social life. But I was worried, so I did some digging, and tried to watch over you in my own way to make certain nothing untoward was going on. I thought I'd discover that most of the people you had met were the decent sorts you'd proclaimed them to be."
Folding his hands together, his voice took upon decidedly chilly undertones, "Imagine my surprise at what I managed to uncover. Did you think I wouldn't find out about the rumors around your academy that you're under the protection of a yakuza princess? Maybe you thought it'd escape my notice that you were sneaking out during the night as well? Or the two cell phones, one of which is not on our billing plan? What of the others gifts you've received as well? Shall we even discuss the fake field trip that not a single other classmate of yours was present for?"
All the color drained out of her face, in an inversely proportional manner to how cold his voice became.
"I thought that eventually you would tell me what was going on, rather than digging yourself a deeper hole. But instead, what you tell me is that you must quit activities important to your future, in order to devote yourself to some mysterious project that will help people, and I must simply take your word on it?"
Her gaze was downcast, and she found herself trembling. She said nothing, what could she say? She couldn't defend herself without context. Even though she valued truth so much, right now the only thing she could think to do to get out of this was to desperately grasp for a lie. But she knew any lie she came up with on the spot would be easily verifiable as false. The only lie that might work is.. no. She couldn't ask for that, not from her.
"Care to explain yourself further, Eri?"
The only word she could manage to get out was impossibly soft as it left her lips. "No." The three words he said in reply were soul-crushing for her, "You disappoint me."
==
Later in the day, her punishment was delivered to her in detail. It rang like white noise within her ears, before she blurted out to the figure towering over her in complete desperation.
"W-Why would you send me away for keeping secrets!? That's completely irrational as a punishm..."
The jarring impact sent her sprawling, as she lay in a twisted pile for a moment, her hands pressed against the wooden floor, with her legs sideways beneath her. The white noise rang louder, a constant tinnitus. She picked up one hand, slowly pressing it to her cheek. The stinging throb, and the situation itself felt more surreal than any labyrinth.
It had been done so dispassionately, so casually, like the twang of a string.
