Ink Stained

p̸͚̟͍̳̺̠̘͎̼̍̈̆͌͆̃à̷͔̠̖̞͕̰̻̹͕̈̆ͅį̸̳͖͍̜͕̝͊̊́̿̆͛̈́̀̇́̒͘͝ͅ

š̵͔̘̐l̴̘̭̦͛i̵̢͎͈̬̼̊̇̈́̓̊͗p̶̡̡͉̝̗̭̳͕͉̲̣̀̈͂͌̌̔̎́͘͜͝p̴̨̨̨̛̳̠̖̠͓̦͖̥̯̾͗̓́̅̊̍̃͑̀̋̚į̴̬̭̝͊̔͒͋̍̅͑͊̅̏̃́͝n̸̼̰͚̠̪̱͕͖̯̦͇̜̚͝͝ͅg̶̡͕͓̻̹̙͎̝̦̐̒ ̴̘̹̯̤͙͖̯͈̓s̶̨͖̮̗̆̈̓͐̎̀͂̚a̶̢̛̼̪̹̼̜̖͉͑̿͗̚͠ͅṋ̶̫͓̬̍̊̏̚i̸͔̮̝̖̯͍̤̠̦̍͐͛́̋͐͐̐̀͜t̵̢̛̛͉̞̼͔̬̑͂͠ẏ̸̥͉̈́̊̐͋͘

滑る正気

~

Caring f̶̨̧̧̛͓̮͔͇̓̐̔̈́̔͂́͌̽̐͑̀͊̕ó̴̱̹̭̤͔̺̬̂̇̅̚r̷͓͈̭͕͚̤̘̮͎̒̋͂͌̀͌̏ ̴̧̳̩̭͚̞̻̲̥̲̒̈́̍̌̏͜ţ̸̢̢̗̤̜̰̝͙̭͇͍̬̖̄͗́̄̎͆͛̍̚͝ͅh̸͕͇̤͒̏̆̊̅̏̉͂é̸̞̥̪͂̃͒̀ ̶̧̩̜̭͕̣̯̺͎̥̙͗̀̐͊́̍͆̈́̕l̸̯͚̟͂̃̀͋ḯ̶̞͔̤̳̙̱̬̱̯̓̈́̒̉̇̾̈́͝v̶̧͎̜̯̝̘͖̭̠̤̊͐̒͋͆̚̕i̸̘͖͐̿͂̌͛n̴̪͂̈́͂͛͗͝͝g̵̛͕͖̭̗̮̮̳̑̉ͅ,̵̡̛̪̹̮̪̼͙̳͈͙͖͖̍͊̿̍̀̀̕͝͝ ̷̢̠̬͚̦̬̺͓̔̒à̶̢̢̤̦̺̦̩̻͇̩̭̱̤̖̈́̓̎̃̃́̚b̵̢̤̼̳̠̪͙͈̦̬͙͑͋̈́̈́̑̅͠ͅǫ̸̛̪̜͎̀̽̍́́̔͐̐̏͘͝͝͝͠ͅͅͅủ̵͈̜̭̤͔̮͙̯͉͕̦̭̓̓͗̆͜͜ͅt̴̢̨̩̙̺̗̤̮̭͎̖͋̎̓̕ͅ ̶̰̫̲̳̤͈̦̱̳̗͚̭̩̎̈́̓ͅţ̵̘̝̞̺̺̘̦̯̏̍̍̈̾̈́́̍́̑̐̑̿͛h̶̢̢̨̦̤̖̣͍̖̬̱̙̣͕̼͑͐̾̉́̑̋͗̈̆̈̂͆e̶͉͇͕̽̈̔̐̚͜͜ ̶̥͚̗̻̖̫̯̟͎̱̲̟̖̻͈̀̑̑̐́l̶̼̫̼̬̳̻̹̯̤͖͔͖̬̜̺̓͗̆̐̊͌̋̅́̆̅̋͐i̷̧̡̯͖̖̘̺͈͐͂͆͌͒̌̋̚̚͝v̶̭̙̉̾̿̓̾͆̾̕͝į̵̡̛̲͓͖̲̠̥͚͔͇̞̇̓͋̿̄̌̌̂͜n̴̛̳͈̯̯̩͚̖̓ģ̴̹̼͈̜̀̓̕͜͝ͅ,̴̭̠̼̫͕̺̭̿̉̈́̐̔͆́͜ ̷̤̖͒̾̇̽̔͊̈́͑̓̚̚̕i̸̱͒̉͑̃͗͌̄̀̀̃̇͊̐͝ș̸̓̓̈́̑̔̂̒͛͝ ̶̩̗̫͖̺͉̱̣͚͈͚̫̜̋̎̌̑́̄͆͝s̷̪̙͇͋̑͆ǫ̵͕̺̼̮͑͗̃͋͛͒̽̓̓̋̍͘͜͝ ̵̨̤̹͈̬͙̳̣͔̰͚͕̺̈́́̋ṭ̴̖͕̯̥̖̪̰̃̑̓͛i̴̦̠̬͑̉̔̽̃̌̅ŗ̶̝͐̄̈̂̏͂͛͊̅̕i̵̢͔̰̙͈̭̹̩̼͚͇̤͙͆̿̐̏̐͒̉͊̈́̓́̿̚͘n̴̛̥͓̭̼̦͓̺͍̝̭̗̳̄̈̈́̓̂̕͝g̴̡͙͈̮̻͍̱͙̭̫̹̎̽͂̈̽͊͂͘͜.̷̛͔͓͕́̋͐̈̊͆̏͗̀͌̀͘͝ ̷̻̉͛͌̈́̍̈́̌͐͊̽̾͘̚Į̷̭̦̪͍͖͖̺̕ţ̸̧̡̦̙͔͍̺̟͍̣̥̱͑̀͗͐͊̍̓̅͗͝͠ͅ ̷̡̢̠̩͙͓̪̺̞̗̭̪̳̗̤́͒i̸͈͚͓͓̽̇̊͋ͅṣ̸̨̛̲̰̤͎̘̿̃̆͊͆̀ ̴̪͈̙̟̜̠͎̫̞̝͔̬̹̱́̓̔̍ͅb̷̨̛̳̦͚͈̹̒͌̓̍́̀̆͑̈͌̕̚̕é̸̯̭͈̞͔̫̥̀́̀̅́͆̌̏̿̔͘͘͝t̸̢̨̨̪̖̱̫̞̹̟̻̚͜͝t̸͙̬̬̭͔͉̠̘̭͇̱̜̀͑͝ͅe̷̘͂̚͜͝r̸̛͍̠͕̻͖̩̼̉͆̿ ̷̛̰͚̫̙̮͓̱̲͗̔̇̀̑̈́̑̈́͝ͅn̷̼̯̙͖͑̐́̂̀̂͠o̷̬͙̞̠͉̤̝͔̱̿̓̿̈́́̊t̷̡̟̞̤̜̰̩͎̰̩̣̜͚̲͎͗̃̅̋̆͋͐͠͠ ̸̢̟̺͖̗̰͇̄̈́́̂͑̒̓̍͠t̷̮͋ơ̷̼̲͔̳̲͕͔̝̤͔͎̯̺̼̞͌͊̄̈͗́̓̿̇̄̒̕͝ ̶̨̩̣̫̳̣̝̘̱̪̰͇̱̯̀͆̿̅͒͐̒͐͐̅̿̕͝c̷̫͖̤̘͇͔̯̗̘̳̝͗a̵̞͖͕͕̪̺̗̳̅̉͋͐̎̑̚ṙ̸̛̦͂̀͘ͅe̶̺̱̳̪͚̥͗̄́̕̕͝ ̸̛̳̬̻̼̱̪͚̻͎̪̞̤͙̝̣̓͋̐̔̓̏͊̌́͐͘̕ă̶̛͈̦͙̗̱̇t̶̞͔̟͂͊̋̉̇͒̈́̏̉͑̈͂͜͝͠ ̷̯̭̖̘͖͔̼̤̖͇̹̙͍̤̄̌̏̉̒́̊̎͂̚͘͝͠ą̶͍͈̳̹̠̈́ͅl̸̺̲̎̔l̶̡̨͉̹̦͍̳͍͇̼̼͇̦̀̇͋̽͌͝͠.̷̧̡̢̢̦̪̬̭̭̱͖͇̼̙͆̀̍̇͜͝

 ̸͍̥͕͕̜̦̹̠̙̗͙͚̭̈́̍͊̋͛͌́͐̓͆̚͝

Kuniumi does not wake her. She keeps her word only to wake Pai if someone comes into her cell.

No one does.

She stirs, coming to full consciousness on her own. She sits up on the cot when she hears voices outside her door. Muffled snippets of conversation, hushed, hissed through clenched teeth.

Angry. They are angry.

Frowning, she pushes the blanket aside and shoves her feet into the shoes she keeps at the ready by the foot of her cot. Her steps are quiet as she approaches her door, sturdy metal fortified with steel. She presses her ear against it.

There, she can just make out two voices. They sound familiar. She can't tell to whom they belong. That annoys her.

She wants to know.