gentle angel • kousano

I. depollute me, pretty baby

Fuck, it was so cold.

Midnight in Yokohama, and the lights were as bright as ever. They never stopped glaring harshly through the night sky, blocking out any stars that could have possibly been visible.

Unlike most Yokahama nights, there weren't too many people out and about, dressed in skimpy clubbing outfits and waiting outside in lines for warm drinks and crowds of people. A result of the unrelenting cold brought down upon the city as of late. The snow had been coming down harshly for the past week, and it rarely ever let up.

In the midst of said frigid city, lie a young girl by the name of Yosano Akiko, previously a medic in the war and currently homeless and living on the ruthless streets of Yokohama.

Yosano had decided long ago that this was most definitely simultaneously the worst and best place she could have possibly ended up becoming a street rat. She came to that conclusion after many years of nothing but observation—she had the pleasure of witnessing the abundance of violence that took place in the depths of the city and the shitty-ass police who were their supposed protectors but could hardly regulate the day-to-day shoplifter. They worked in her favor, Yosano supposed, but they also did quite the opposite. There had been multiple occasions where she had been stripped of everything she owned in broad-fucking-daylight. How incompetent could you possibly be?

Regardless of her grievances with the Yokohama police, this was one of those times, except, bonus points, she also got fucking shanked.

Here she was, damn near freezing to death with nowhere to go and nowhere near enough body fat to keep her warm for however long it was going to take her to find a store that would let her the fuck inside.

She couldn't say she was surprised that nobody would let her inside, considering her attire, a bra and underwear, (when Yokohama muggers say everything, they mean everything) but can't people have some compassion? It was below freezing and snowing outside, plus she was a young girl with an obvious stab wound.

Yosano had the fleeting thought that there was no way she was on the verge of death, but as soon as it entered her mind, she felt all the more miserable.

Chilled to the bone, bleeding from her stomach, basically naked, and malnourished as all hell, she still wouldn't fucking die.

Her vision blurred, and she couldn't tell whether she was about to faint or cry. Honestly, she could not care less. She was painfully aware of the fact that when she would wake up in the morning, she would be just as cold and hungry as before, only sans a stab wound.

Helplessness consumed her being, and it felt as if she were drowning in it. Yosano was sure that the world was just pushing her around for some sick pleasure.

In a sudden lapse of white-hot, unadulterated rage at this goddamned city that she had been condemned to wander for the rest of her godforsaken life, she punched the brick wall to the right of her. Dumb, she knew, but logic was beyond her at that point. Her knuckles bled, as did her heart, and as she kept punching, she felt the blood drip down her arm and stop just before it met her elbow as it froze.

From an outside perspective, she was sure she looked insane. Hell, she felt insane. But, newfound desire for something, anything, other than that utter hopelessness pooling in her stomach, she just kept punching until the dregs of her energy were finally used up, and she dragged her back along the blood-streaked brick as she went to sit down.

It felt as if there was a gaping hole clawing its way deep into her empty stomach and making a home there; she was a little jealous of her made-up creature. The only pain she felt was the distant stinging of her knuckles in the back of her mind.

God, how she wanted to be close enough to death to fix herself.

Slowly and groggily, she brought her fingers down to the stab wound in her stomach and stuck them in.

It was a desperate and stupid move, but it made sense in her clouded state of mind.

Yosano squeezed her eyes shut at the sudden pain flaring in her stomach, but she kept going.

"This is worth it," she said to herself in hopes of convincing her mind of something she did not believe in the slightest. Again, voice hoarse from pain, she whispered, "this is going to be fucking worth it."

Once she worked both her pointer and middle fingers of both of her hands inside the wound, she pulled.

And fuck did it hurt. In hindsight, she let out a bloodcurdling scream, but at the time, she had no clue she had done that, it was a blur, and the pain was somewhat reminiscent of what she presumed it felt like if someone was pushing their hand down her throat, grabbing her organs, and attempting to pull them out the way they had entered.

Her vision blurred, and there was a point where everything went pure white, and multiple moments throughout the experience when she thought that she was going to die, her brain too fogged with intense pain to realize how foolish that thought truly was.

As if the world would ever grace her with such a merciful thing.

Obviously, she knew that the wound was life-threatening as it was previously, and in some time, she would have lost enough blood on her own without the help of her stupid ass wound pulling, but she couldn't wait that long. She felt that if she had tried to wait it out, she would have lost all of her will to live and just let it happen. Alas, it was all for naught because before she could pull the wound far enough open for it to be instantly life-threatening, she passed out.

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She awoke to an intense ringing in her ears and the distant sound of a girl's voice desperately demanding her to "wake the fuck up."

Yosano let out a loud groan and attempted to open her eyes, only to be met with a beautiful girl's face. The girl looked to be around her age and had gorgeous red hair framing her pale, delicate features perfectly. Deliriously, Yosano reached out for the girl, dragging her hand down the girl's face in a solid, sloppy motion.

Yosano grinned stupidly, completely out of it from blood loss, "Are you my guardian angel," she slurred out.

The girl above her adopted a shocked look on her face and quickly slapped her hand away—even that movement was graceful.

Yosano gaped at her in awe.

The red-haired girl stood up rigidly and frowned down at the bloodstained and nearly naked girl below her.

She stared for a long while, though Yosano didn't mind all that much, happy to stare right back at the ethereal creature towering over her.

Seemingly having come to a decision, the beauty leaned down, grabbed Yosano into her arms, bridal style, and started walking.

Said girl giggled deliriously at having been swept off her feet; she felt like she was floating, being carried away by this angel.

"Where are you taking me," she asked innocently, eyes wide with curiosity.

The girl stared for a while again; as if memorizing the features of Yosao's face. Then, as if she had completed the memorization or as if she had lost interest in the endeavor, she brought her eyes back up ahead of her, leaving her query unanswered.

Yosano fell asleep to the steady thump of the girl's smooth steps.