After all this time, you and I

Yui walked to Shiketsu’s gym. Her heart beat so loudly that she felt it in her throat. Orochi has been acting strangely ever since she came back.

Yui knew her friend, but the person who returned to school after fighting Feral didn’t feel like Orochi— not completely. It seemed as though her friend had lost the light she once radiated. The gentle and caring light— that spark of anxiety showed she wanted to keep everyone safe.

Current Orochi glanced at 1-E with apathetic, judgmental eyes. She felt the storm brewing. She knew tensions were rising, but Orochi had not attempted to rebuild burned bridges. The Orochi she knew would blame herself and try to make amends.

The pain would be too heavy to carry, but she, Inigo, Chris, and everyone else were there to help Orochi. Rather, it felt as if Orochi had stopped caring. Her distant but cheerful personality gave way to something else: a stoic and cold stance that couldn’t be bothered.

No one has connected the dots yet. Inigo may have an inkling, and Chris may think something was amiss, but they hadn’t seen through Orochi’s mask. Yui felt as if it was her duty to confront Orochi about her change of heart.

Yui knew a grieving Orochi. She knew how fragile Orochi's heart was, but she took the last few days in stride. No signs of her usual anxieties and tics were shown.

Yui saw Orochi. She rested against a wall, drinking juice from a box. Her clothes had changed a little. She now wore a full-body skin-tight suit underneath her clothes, with a bright red cropped jacket over her uniform.

Orochi’s slitted eyes noticed Yui; she stopped drinking to smile and waved at her friend.

Yui grasped. ‘I will be an asshole by talking about such a sensitive topic, but I don’t think anyone else will talk with Orochi about that stuff.’ Who knew what the outcome of those changes would be in the future?

The white-haired student pushed forward. “Hey, Orochi. We need to talk now.” Orochi rolled her shoulders.

“Sure.” Orochi resumed her drinking, waiting for a topic to be brought up. Yui took a deep breath as she raised her head to meet Orochi’s eyes.

Her friend was taller than before, her hair had gone red, and her hydras were completely red now. She changed irreversibly in a few days.

Orochi looked the same, but the details, flaws, and qualities changed inexorably. “Orochi. Why are you acting like this? 1-E wants answers. They will be out for our blood soon. Genma just died. You were there.”

Yui licked her lips. Her words didn’t come as she thought. She wanted to be smooth about it, but it didn’t quite work out.

Orochi stopped drinking her juice and threw the box to one of her hydras. It grabbed the box between its teeth and ripped it, “drinking” the juice in one go.

“I know. I am aware of 1-E grieving.” Orochi answered in a heartbeat.

“Then, why are you so distant? Orochi, they are devastated. Neither you nor Hiro tried anything to help them, make them feel better, or... Yui felt wrong; those words felt forced. She was not a sentimental person. Normally, it would be on Orochi and Inigo to say those words to their more distant classmates.

“What can I do to stop their grieving, Yui? I was there; I saw it happen.” Orochi sighed. “I saw Genma’s determination. I saw him die; they didn’t. I got the solace they didn’t.”

For a moment, Orochi looked down. She looked at her hands. “I died there too.” Yui felt a chill run down her spine. Orochi’s words were heavy, filled with a sentiment impossible to describe— a haunting detachment, not to Genma’s death but to hers.

“He was determined to help Hiro. So am I. If I stop to cry now, to grieve, and point fingers at who is and isn’t to blame, what good will it bring? The Reaper is on the loose; he killed Genma. My words or sympathy won’t help 1-E.” Orochi’s breath caught, but she continued.

Orochi raised her eyes, staring past Yui. Her eyes softened. “I can’t bring the solace they want or the closure they need. All I can do is keep on fighting and keep on breathing.”

A bitter taste spread through Yui’s mouth. “I can’t change the past. I cannot make them feel better. I doubt they would accept any apologies. What I know I can do is look out for us, our friends. Our class. Our… family.” Orochi's cheeks blushed as she spoke those last words; she resisted the urge to take her eyes off Yui.

“I spent my whole life chasing ghosts to find what I wanted to do and what I wanted to be. Now I understand who I am and what I need to do. I want to protect us; do what is right.” Orochi stepped forward.

“Our simple days— the days we had nothing besides our school lives to worry about— may be over, but I refuse to stop now. I won’t let any of you get hurt again.” Orochi’s arm wrapped around Yui’s shoulders, pulling her in for a hug.

“I will fight for us, for those who can’t fight. When it all is over, I may grieve. Until then, I will protect our light. For that, the old me that kept her distance to avoid being hurt isn't good enough.”

Yui leaned in the embrace, resting her face against Orochi’s shoulder. Her friend had changed, but now she doubted if it was a bad thing. She would try to enjoy what little peace they still had.