A little alternate scene to @kyanako5972 's Amane request. I like the other drabble a bit better regarding how things would actually play out, but I couldn't resist trying something that included Fuuta. He's Amane's closest friend. He's the other person to openly say he'll go after a child and not give them special treatment. He literally looks like the orange cat she saved. I couldn't cover it all but there's just so much going on with them. Warning for references to Amane's cult/abuse mindset.
“Jeez, you scared the crap outta me…”
Fuuta looked up to find Amane standing over his bed, staring intently as he woke. Amane knew he was doing his best to appear upset with her for the intrusion, but his grimace could be mistaken for pain in his condition.
She knew she didn’t look much better, an eyepatch tucked under her short hair and bandages circling her body. It had taken all her strength to rise and make her way to his cell. She was used to walking off a bit of pain, but this was a different level altogether.
She opened her mouth. She had come in here with a mission. She had her speech prepared. She didn’t write it out like her father was known to do, but she did rehearse it a few times quietly to herself, as she’d seen from him.
Fuuta had listened to her when no one else would; there was a chance her passionate words could convince him to reject that doctor’s evil work and find the light. They could shed these bandages together, becoming pure and following their intended paths. She’d already tried removing her eyepatch several times, but there was always someone there to put it back on. It had been hard to fend off so many overbearing adults, the way her body screamed at her each time she tried. She despised them. She was suffocated by them.
But with Fuuta by her side, she could do it. There was power in numbers. Her mother, Es, Kotoko – all of them thought she was wicked. They weren’t important. They were only human. She could still be a good girl, in the ways that mattered. They could be good together.
“Kajiyama Fuuta.”
“What?”
But the words caught in her throat.
His voice was so weak. It was nothing like the way he spoke to her before. His eyes dulled with exhaustion, half-hidden under ginger hair. She couldn’t keep her gaze from the makeshift sling Shidou had put together with one of the bedsheets. It didn’t look much different than her own handiwork. The thought brought with it a surge of pride, which immediately made her tremble with shame.
He had changed so much. This wasn’t the same person she had found camaraderie in before. If only she could help him. If only she could save him.
No. There was a right way and a wrong way to help him, and she mustn't be led astray. She had come here to help in the right way. Thoughts spun rapidly through her mind. Her trembling worsened. Her chest ached, and she couldn’t tell if it was from the emotions or the broken ribs. She just had to follow through. She had to be good. She had to –
“Stop being creepy,” he wheezed. “Just spit it out.”
“I – I have to go.”
She spun around. She could save Fuuta another day.
“Oi, Amane.”
“I said I have to go.”
“I'm sorry.”
She paused in the doorway to the cell. She glanced back at him, curious.
“You have nothing to apologize for.”
“I’m just... Sorry that happened to you. It was a fucked up thing to do.”
Amane shook her head. She held her chin high. “It was meant to be, and thus, I can bear it. You must, too.”
Fuuta's laugh turned into a cough. “You’re a weird kid. But tougher than I gave you credit for.”
Amane couldn’t meet his eyes. “Thank you.”
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