Because I’ve Seen it All

The ocean was shining brighter than usual, with the spring air lifting the heart of Akari who enjoyed spending her time watching the village in motion. But on that day, her heart was heavy with contemplation.

Toyo was absent from school. Her usual behavior whenever the anniversary of her mother’s passing came around.

Although she always pretending like she was doing well, Akari could always sense a hole growing within her. The day she and Kuro went searching for something that had to do with her mother’s family, Akari worried that it might drive her down a rabbit hole of trying to figure out what it was that lead her mother to take her own life. Even still, she knew she shouldn’t ask about it. Fearing how it would disrupt the trust between all of them.

“Ne, Akari! Let’s go already!” a tiny voice bellowed from below. Akari peered down at her younger sister, Tama, whose face was littered with the pains of impatience.

“Hai, hai! We’re going.” Akari acquiesced.

As they trotted down the roads of Kanmu-mura, Akari noticed the neighborhood felt more quiet than usual. Normally she’d grip Tama’s hands tightly so she wouldn’t step out in front of a car zipping down the narrow road, but that day was as if they had the entire street to themselves.

Approaching the front of their home, Tama sprung up the stairs and rushed inside. But Akari was somewhat lethargic. The weight on her legs more dense than usual.

“Asakara-san!”

Their neighbor, Kunitsu-san, was waving to her from his window. They’d been living beside one another for as long as Akari could remember, and he would often help look after her when she was younger whenever her parents were busy with work. But as she grew older, she only greeted him on her way to and from school.

“One of your friends came looking for you just now,” the neighbor informed, his head tilted as he peeked through the thin opening of the window.

“Kuro?” Akari assumed, but Kunitsu-san shook his head.

“The one whose mother passed a few years back.”

Toyo? As the thought crossed her mind, Akari slipped her phone from her pocket, confused by the lack of any messages or phone calls. Meanwhile, Kunitsu-san dragged himself into busy monologue.

“These young mothers nowadays can’t handle the stress of life. To imagine them dealing with half of the struggles my mother had.”

Akari softly glanced at the neighbor, it being obvious that his patience for the younger generation had worn thin as he shook his head to himself in rejection. “Be stronger than that,” he concluded, “for your sister’s sake.”

Kunitsu-san then disappeared back into his home, with Akari quietly bowing her head before trotting back over towards her house.

She began to ring Toyo’s phone, still curious as to what could’ve brought her all the way to her home unannounced. She must’ve assumed I’d be home by now, confirming that Toyo wouldn’t have known about Tama’s Tuesday piano lessons.

Just as the phone began to ring, Akari abruptly ended the call, finding Toyo standing just a few feet away from her. “You look, different,” Akari noted, but Toyo simply looked back upon her. Her expression swarming with mixed emotions. She couldn’t tell if she was happy, or in pain.

Toyo slowly crept up towards Akari, her body trembling with each step. As she gazed into her eyes, she softly clasped her arms around her, a single tear rolling down Toyo’s face.

“What’s going on?” a concerned Akari asked, but Toyo just shook her head, leaving her words vacant.

“Toyo,” Akari said once again, holding her by the shoulders. Toyo wiped the tears from her eyes, drawing on a fragile grin as she lied, “I’m okay.”

Akari lightly stepped back, still holding her hands firmly onto Toyo’s shoulders as she gazed into her eyes. “Okay,” she said softly. Her eyes traveled up and down, landing at the top of Toyo’s head as her mouth leaned sideways.

“Something about you really feels different somehow…”

Toyo chuckled, the delight almost seeming painful to her. She then leaned back, placing her arm around Akari once more as she held her in her grasp. “Stay out of Kanmu-mori”

The cryptic words that fell from her mouth pinched Akari’s ears like needles. “What are you talking about?” Akari questioned, facing Toyo with a confused glare.

But just like that she disappeared… as too did the neighborhood of Kanmu-mura. Now only staring at the face of hopelessness.

“Saba, what did you learn?”

Saba looked towards the Coordinator General, her vibrant blue eyes swaying like the ocean sea. “I don’t know…”

“That’s unlike you,” the general noted pointedly.

“I can’t read her chakra signal. It’s like she’s surrounded by a script that I can’t see past.”

The Coordinator General was perturbed. After all, Saba was the one script user he knew could never fail at solving an enigma. So why was she appearing so confused?

With their plans in freefall, Sir Didact acted. Knowing that he wouldn’t be able to shift for another five seconds, he charged after Saba directly, planning on forcing an attack from her which he would launch Akari in front of just in time to force her to cancel the script, leaving her vulnerable. But he needed to time it just right.

“Dissect!”

Toro sprung from the side, blindsiding him as the creature wrapped itself around his body like a thin rope so sharp it began to cut into his skin. The Coordinator General approached with each step brooding with arrogance.

“You see the thing is, Sir Didact, you failed to notice where my abilities are far greater than yours. You see I may not be able to draw the blade myself, but I will direct it as such that it never misses its target when thrown.”

As Sir Didact thrashed in agony, he used his last breath to try and turn the tables. Forcing his arm free with it nearly slicing off, he opened his hand at Akari. Finally activating his shift script.

Akari thrusted into the air directly heading towards the general, prompting him to toss an item from his hand as he grabbed hold of her. Sir Didact used that sliver of an opportunity to leap at the general, knocking him over. “Barrier scripts can cause damage to anything that forcefully makes contact with it. I know you wouldn’t dare let your trophy get harmed or tossed like a ragdoll to the floor. So, you removed the barrier instead. You’re easy to read, general.”

The general kicked at Sir Didact, but it was fruitless. Sir Didact planted his hand onto the general’s face. “Let’s see just how far this genius mind of yours can withstand itself.” Sir Didact activated his deep-dive script, penetrating his mind so far it bore a hole through his consciousness.

In an instant, the Coordinator General became a mere vacant vessel.