My Normal Life Now Has A Comeback

Stupid—

Useless—

Sarine leaned against Tama, wings twitching as Pleasa raised a dagger. Tama registered a few scant details—the remnants of one of the weird dream machines, Sarine falling down with Pleasa after being caught in a trap or something. Tama’s body was shutting down on her again; whatever the illusion awoke in her fizzled out the second she found freedom.

So she thought.

But a warmth spread in her chest—a strength returned to her arms, and with a guttural cry, Tama manifested her sword and sliced Pleasa’s legs. The scientist screamed as she dropped Tama.

Sarine fell to the floor, motionless, as Tama stood again. Sarine—Sarine gave her this gift.

Sarine passed the baton. It was Tama’s turn to play hero, now. She looked down at the trembling faerie and felt her heart drop, her stomach turn in knots, relishing in the irony of her misery for the briefest moment before Pleasa charged, animalistic rage driving her.

“…This is how it feels, huh?” Tama said, twirling her blade and crafting a shield of light. Pleasa clawed at it. It seemed she abandoned all reason for blind rage and murderous impulse. “When I made you drain me dry—I—what you said in my dream, I knew all along…”

Sarine was suffering, watching Tama kill herself. She wanted Pleasa dead, and nothing changed that goal—but Sarine couldn’t have that at the cost of her friend.

That was why the two fell together. Sarine must’ve made a deal to save Tama.

All because this stupid, selfish girl wanted to kindle Pleasa’s death kneel with her own body. And for what? Did Tama have to die to stop this woman? Did anyone else have to suffer?

Would Chiho…want either of them to die?

Tama’s sword brightened with a newfound hope. She smiled despite it all, shoving her shield forward and throwing Pleasa to the ground. The scientist threw a hand out and summoned her swarm of Nachts to the fray. Tama tucked her blade close.

Just as the monsters closed in on her, she shot a beam of light—as it evaporated one monster it bounced to another, and on, and on, Tama creating more and adding to the maze of lasers firing every which way, blowing holes in the wall and destroying delicate machinery. Computer towers collapsed and vats of sludge broke open, pouring a tar-like substance everywhere as Pleasa fumed, cursing Tama in a language she couldn’t understand.

The last of the Nachts fizzled out as the power died. The light beams kept ricocheting, destroying everything in sight. Pleasa wailed, abandoning the fight to scoop up a handful of Dream Seeds as Tama held on to Sarine, tucking her in her pocket before giving chase.

Pleasa weaved between the broken machinery. The thick mud flooding the room dragged Tama’s ankles down—she ran towards the stairs, hot on Pleasa’s heels. The two ascended upwards, then bolted through the bridge.

Tama prioritized safety over speed, up until the ground shook and tilted.

“I haven’t destroyed every fatal trap, you braindead moron!” Pleasa yelled.

The bridge blew up in the center, throwing Tama to the ground as she slid, catching her fingers on the edge just as she hit the end of the broken walkway, hanging over a sea of black. Pleasa stayed upright on her side, clinging to the railing with a smile.

“That fancy sword won’t do anything to save you from choking on my concoctions,” she said, a tilt of laughter returning to her voice. “Luckily one of us knows how to float. Goodbye, my most stupid, useless targets! I’ll do my best to ensure as few people as possible are disturbed by your untimely deaths.”

Tama grit her teeth. Her arms ached—she imagined Pleasa kicking her down, but the woman didn’t have to bother. Tama’s upper arm strength, laughably bad as it was, did the job well enough.

Maybe Tama would die anyways, despite all Sarine worked for. Maybe she was the kind of dumb, useless Chosen to get stuck in a trap and die at the finish line.

But if there was one thing a stupid, death-seeking girl like her was best at…

Bracing herself, she let one hand fall free—the one with her sword, which she threw at Pleasa. If Tama was going to die, she’d die too.

No exceptions.

Pleasa dodged, but the blade curved and followed her; she gasped, stumbled, and fell into it, the sword piercing her heart. Pleasa scraped at the wound, heaving and grasping for life before strength failed her, and she tumbled into the darkness below.

The sword caught onto the metal railing.

Tama closed her eyes, the gentle swinging of the broken bridge guiding her to her doom. There was no one left to kill. No fights to win, no illusions to break out of or mysterious dangers to save her friend from.

Just Tama, and all her mistakes. With no possible escape from her circumstances—at least, none that she could see. A rocking bridge; what could be done with that?

The swinging…the to and fro. The constant ebb of movement— “You idiot…come on, do I need to spell everything out for you?”

Sarine’s weak voice broke through. Tama clung to it. “Swing…harder. As hard as you can. Throw yourself over. There’s…up there, a way out…”

Well.

If she wanted Tama to do the hard work, then fine. Tama started with gentle movements, building momentum, seeing the other half of the bridge fly an inch into reach before fading away. With eyes screwed shut, heart near stopping, she flung herself—her fingers grazed the metal flooring before she dug her fingers into the gaps and pulled herself up, fumbling for her sword before it joined Pleasa.

Clinging to the railing, Tama stumbled to the stairs, following those up to a lift. It brought her higher, past the destroyed remnants of…something or other, and to the edge of the ceiling’s opening.

Tama made her way out, the stench of burnt wire and charcoal frying her nostrils. But she couldn’t help herself—she glanced back. The sludge flooded all the broken machinery and supplies, but somewhere in those depths laid not just Pleasa’s corpse, but Lavi’s sleeping body.

Surely the surge woke her up. Maybe she was chasing after the pair, waiting to get the last laugh.

Lavi never came, though. Tama shook her head, fleeing upward, back into the light, the snow, the life she had to live through, no matter what.

She put a hand to her pocket. To Sarine. Two constants, forever connected—call it destiny, but Tama preferred something closer to a reckless, stupid affection.