She was here...
Alone.
Pain-free, undemanding, and uncomplicated.
Wednesday was sentient of her state in which she laid senseless. Queer in her view - to be able to have a comprehension of one's unconsciousness.
She has been here before, a place she held no sovereignty. This void of nothing, a space where zilch resided, and she was left stranded in the vast sea of perpetual darkness.
It was an outlook the goth girl has become acquainted with, despite her meaningless remonstrance.
Because she was aware of this place and its accentuation to her with memories.
Her anthracite eyes stared at the empty void in front of her, aspiring to achieve a notion of her presence here, again. Yet she knew it was impotent to grasp a postulate - ineffectual to her aspiration - and absurd for even believing she could decipher a void.
Perhaps this was a procedure, a drill to appear here after the suspension of consciousness. However, she managed to acquire the concept of her presence always being here.
The void was linked to her visions.
Gifting her a scruple of future circumstances.
Yet, there wasn't a fleet vision appearing, everything was empty. Her finger twitched, indicating her encephalon commencing to gain consciousness. Wednesday eye's darted to her finger, but her body was still unresponsive.
A feeling of exasperation washed over her - vex how she didn't receive an inkling of her next vision. Her brows furrowed into a glare, directing it toward her hand, which was now moving. She will soon wake up shortly.
Promptly, she knew another feeling washing over her - the familiar feeling of electroshock therapy - but this time, she could feel the afterburn. Her gaze returned toward the endless sea of darkness, but her face shifted into one of confusion.
There wasn't a vision, only the void in its perpetual tenebrosity
Wednesday's mouth opened to voice her questioning, but no words were produced. She felt like a prisoner - an inmate for her body being unresponsive in here. This was almost discomfiture, to feel like a puppet.
It was then that she felt it - the stare of void gazing at her. Wednesday felt unsettling and unease, even when she has been in this situation dozens of times. The boundless emptiness of the void would have driven a normal person into a piteous state of derange.
Yet, Wednesday was different.
Even when the inestimable void gazed at her - she forbade the idea of being petrified - pushing away the unsettling and uneasy.
She reciprocated the stare, unblinking, and unyielding. The goth girl awaited an answer - a vision. There was none. No answer. No vision.
Fate soon contradicted her, causing her to believe she could have a staring contest with the void. She soon blinked. And was taken aback by what she saw the moment her eyes opened.
Two eyes were staring at her - eyeing her with an unprecedented gaze. A gaze she couldn't unravel. The goth girl felt small, tiny, and microscopic in this situation; irresolute.
Wednesday was aware of who that gaze belonged to - the detached sentiment in its pupils - apathetic in its stare. She was aware of the owner.
What left her hellaciously unsettling, was the apathetic stare soon shifting into a vehement baleful glare.
A glare not directed at her or a sentiment figure. It was aimed at something.
But before she could question the vision, she felt herself pulled back from the void.
What Friedrich Nietzsche said is true, after all.
——————————————————
In the Infirmary, Wednesday lurched forward in her bed as she tries to steady her breathing. Beads of sweat poured from the goth girl's forehead - trailing down her jawline like an artist fluidly painting down on his canvas.
"Whoa, everything alright, Wednesday?"
The goth girl disregarded the query from the male who stood over her, his expression shifting into a concerned one. Xavier eyed Wednesday - there was confusion and wary in his shoulders - he wasn't fond of the expression the goth girl harbored.
It gave out the sentiment that she had a dark secret.
"Where am I?" her charcoal color eyes landed on him, questioning her whereabouts. Her voice was vaguely gruff.
"Just take it easy," Xavier assured. "You're in the infirmary. The nurse said you don't have a concussion, but you probably have a nasty bump, huh?" the tortured artist illuminated.
Wednesday's brows furrowed, staring at her arm, more pertinent to her forearm, as it was meticulous to her memory before she went unconscious.
"The last thing I remember, I was walking outside feeling a mixture of rage, pity, and self-disgust." Wednesday elucidated, shifting her gaze to him. "I never felt that way before."
Xavier's lips curled into a smile, letting out a truncated chortle "Yeah... That's reasonable. Losing to Y/n has that outcome on people." the goth girl concise the grimace look he adorned.
"And then I looked up and saw that gargoyle coming down and I thought..." Wednesday stopped, odd of the next words coming out of the mouth. "At least I'll have an imaginative death."
"Then I felt a hand grab my forearm. And the next thing I know, I was thrown to the ground - impeding the sculpture from even striking me." Wednesday finished, her attention soon returning to her forearm.
Xavier pursed his lips, unsure of what to reveal to the goth girl. Should he be mendacity to her? Or perchance, tell her the truth it was Y/n?
The tortured artist was cognizant of Y/n loathing attention - substantially from someone who dislikes him. The conflicted questions were soon presentable in his facial features - ones where Wednesday was attentive.
"I know you didn't save me." Wednesday abruptly said, knocking Xavier out of his conflict.
"Ho-"
"I saw him," Wednesday interjected. "His face, the scars, the apathetic expression, and predominantly, his dull gaze."
Xavier tightened his lips and then let out a low relief sigh. "Well, at least I don't have to be untruthful." he cleared his throat. "Yeah, you are right, he did save you."
"Apprise me why you desire to be untruthful?" Wednesday inquire, her impassive stare making Xavier nervous.
The tortured artist took a deep breath. "My objective wasn't to lie to you."
"Sounds puerile."
"I'm being serious, Wednesday. I wasn't going to lie, it's just..." Xavier trailed off as Wednesday waited for him to continue. "Y/n didn't want to be seen as your savior. He just told me to lie and tell you that I saved you."
The goth girl rose an eyebrow at the sudden proclamation. "How so?"
Xavier shrugged his shoulders. "I'm just as befuddled as you. Y/n dislikes garnering attention from people. He didn't seem to have wanted a virtue from you after he saved you. He's observant of you disliking, more now after you lost."
The tortured artist olive colored eyes merely stared at Wednesday, who continue to stare at her forearm. There wasn't a response from the impassive goth girl - only the faint sound of her breathing.
Her anthracite eyes were difficult to read - didn't give any hint suggesting an emotion was passing by. Unfortunately, just like Y/n, there wasn't any.
"appears asinine on his part," Wednesday announced as Xavier lowly nodded.
The conversation soon died down, giving an awkward atmosphere from Xavier's perspective. He fiddled with his fingers, his palms soon starting to sweat. He was dither of what to say next - and it didn't aid how nonchalant the goth girl was.
Wednesday simply rubbed the soreness of her forearm where Y/n grasped - the exertion in his force was great, leaving the soreness - she knew a mark will eventually mark its presence.
"Why do you dislike him?" Wednesday queried, startling Xavier.
The tortured artist's gaze shifted to the window, gazing at the liquid precipitation slamming against the fiberglass. Wednesday noticed the contemplation on his face - recalling the moments of his encounters with Y/n.
"A couple of months ago." Xavier started. "I used to date Bianca if you didn't know."
"I'm aware."
"Right... I forgot you are Enid's roommate." Xavier rubbed his nape. "Anyways, I was dating Bianca during that time. Yet, a part of me felt it was the wrong time to even go out with her."
Wednesday quirked an eyebrow. "How so?"
"During that time, Bianca hated Y/n, you know... It was a couple of weeks after she lost her best fencing fighter title to Y/n. I was there, present of the way he defeated her, in a way she deems humiliating. Soon after, she continued to challenge him to combat, and as you already know, the answer was losses. The amount of lacerates Bianca houses in her arms is kinda crazy, it's the reason why she vaguely takes off her blazer." Xavier elucidated.
Wednesday only gazed at the tortured artist as he continue to speak. "It all started one day in fencing class a couple of months ago, Y/n appeared to hand his saber to Vlad since he was suspended after an incident that occur a week prior. Spoiler alert; he made a student bleed severely to the point he was immediately taken to the hospital."
The goth girl was fleetingly taken aback by the last remark. "What happened?"
"A student tried to attack Y/n while his back was turned to him. I don't know the full details, but I was informed the student loathed Y/n, not sure why. Perhaps past problems? To summarize that story, the student tried to kill Y/n, yet it was he who ended up in the hospital. All in all, he never showed up again."
"Recreant for attempting to strike the enemy from the back instead of fighting with dignity." Wednesday nonchalantly stated.
Xavier shrugged his shoulders. "I guess you are right on that part. That student had it coming anyways, especially since he was a bully. His name was Trevor. He disliked the fur cliques and always had impertinent remarks directed toward them. Trevor always tried to embarrass Enid. And you already know she's good friends with Y/n. Another reason why he sent the student to the hospital."
"All in all, the aftermath was moderately frightening. The student had a large gash on his stomach as he lay in a pool of blood. He was alive, but if he wasn't taken to the hospital in time, he wouldn't have woken up to see another day. The messed up part was Y/n hands covered in blood along with his black uniform."
Interesting.
Wednesday found the story absorbing, rather than fatuous. Never did it occur to her that she will perceive an individual who isn't afraid to take a life - to be cowed by someone else's actions - or daunted by their choices.
The majority of people she has met were pusillanimous, and timorous in their future choices. They let their emotions run rampant, holding the ascendancy of their mind. Emotions equal weakness - a motto that will forever be embedded in the goth girl's view of this world.
Wednesday asserted that she will never find someone more diverse than the rest who was like her. Or so she believed until she was contradicted - a paradox as well.
She was cognizant of the dissimilar Y/n and the rest of the nevermore students were, perhaps even the individuals Wednesday has encountered in all her life. He was a walking conundrum she couldn't break.
Despite meeting him on two occasions - the male student was a stumper which gave the indication she will never decrypt him.
Furthermore, the more information she acquires; the more onerous it will become to figure him out. This was candidly abashing for her. Wednesday viewed herself as an individual who could decode someone by solely staring at them
That didn't work on Y/n.
"Wednesday?" Xavier asked, concern laced in his tone.
The goth girl blinked, shifting her gaze to his, vaguely narrowing her eyes at him. "What."
"Sorry. You went still and unresponsive for a second. Got lost in your thoughts?"
Wednesday disregarded his question. "You were revealing your dislike for Y/n."
"Right... I was explaining until you went into your dreamland. Maybe get your short head out of the clouds." Xavier joked, aiming to acquire a smile from the goth girl.
Instead, it was the opposite as Wednesday stared at him with her impassive look, slightly glaring at him.
"My apologies." Xavier cleared his throat, resuming his elucidation. "After Y/n handed Vlad his saber, he tried to make his way out without a problem. And this is the part where I hated Bianca's pride. She soon halted him from making his way out, pointing her saber at him for another challenge. Y/n simply ignored her and continue to walk to the exit. Bianca felt a huge amount of rage from being regarded as nothing."
"My conjecture is Bianca attacking Y/n to fight her?"
"Correct. You were right on point." Xavier complimented. "Bianca stepped in front of Y/n, again, and threw a strike. Y/n jumped back to dodge the hit before turning to Vlad, who instantly knew what he meant and threw the saber at him. Next thing you know, Bianca is on the ground with a large cut on her upper arm."
"And the next part is where you appeared to save your damsel in distress." Wednesday deduced nonchalantly.
"When you state it like that, I can't help but agree." Xavier concurred, although reluctantly. "During that time, I was deeply in love with Bianca and I couldn't stand there to gaze at Y/n attacking her. Although it was her fault, she was still my girlfriend in the end."
Wednesday held the repellent stare at the hearing of the knight in shining armor aiding his princess. She found the feeling meaningless - nothing but to fabricate an inconsequential affection for one another.
How abhorrent.
"I felt rage take control of me as I went in for the attack. A mistake I wasn't able to perceive then." Xavier frowned. "If I couldn't beat Bianca in a duel, how did I believe I could hang in with Y/n? That was easily answered as the next thing I knew, I was on the ground with a couple of cuts on my forearms and a cut at the side of my neck."
Xavier rolled up his sleeves to display the cicatrix on his forearms and then tilted his head to the side to show the faint scar that ran down his neck.
"Compelling information. The rest of the students must feel the same about him." Wednesday's charcoal gaze was attentive to the frown still present on his face.
"Not everyone. Only a couple." Xavier revealed, his light olive-colored eyes staring at his forearms. "There isn't much information I could give to you. Enid is the best person when it comes to that."
Wednesday sighed, knowing her time in the infirmary came to an extremity. She found no reason to be here anymore - at least she obtained information.
The goth girl swung her legs over her bed, waiting for the transient neuralgia to disperse before standing up. Xavier's eyebrows were drawn together as he gazed at her.
"You're leaving?"
"I don't find a concept for my appearance here anymore. I am perfectly fine now." Wednesday replied brusquely.
"Well, I guess that's good to hear." the tortured artist remarked.
The goth girl grabbed her black blazer, shifting her gaze to him. "Where is he?"
"Who?"
"Y/n."
"I'm not entirely sure. If what I heard from Enid is correct, Y/n mostly spends his time in his dorm, with Eugene, or in the Quad when it's empty." Xavier found it unco of Wednesday asking for the e/c color male whereabouts.
Wednesday regards him thoughtfully, nodding her head and making her way out. There was still unfinished business she had with Y/n, more now after he saved her, despite the goth girl's retort of even thanking him.
Still, in his seat, Xavier couldn't help but feel a nagging at the back of his. An apprehensive feeling - one he couldn't assimilate - the feeling becoming more roaring and vehement.
The tortured artist was unaware of Wednesday and Y/n's presence already affecting Nevermore Academy.