It wasn’t supposed to be like that. It wasn’t supposed to be her being dragged into the box. It wasn’t supposed to be something so horrible.
It wasn’t supposed to be her.
She could recall arriving, wondering what was going on, how she had ended up there. To be honest, she had initially felt a little rage at the idea that it was Ranma’s fault for her being there. If he had simply sold the thing to her like she had advised, she wouldn’t have been pulled to who-knows-where.
And then ... it struck.
She didn’t know how, but she could feel it inside her, moving about her soul. She could hear it in all of its voices, torturing her, tempting her, attacking and defending her. It felt like her soul was being both eaten and inflamed, frozen and shattered. She could feel its tendrils spreading throughout what made her, her.
She wanted to cry out, to beg for help. She wanted someone, anyone, to save her, to fight back the madness, to take her place in that assault. She would have made any offer, accepted any bargain, if it would only stop.
It even at one point sounded like her mother, adding to the sting it created. The voice praised her, demeaned her, cried out to her, ignored her.
She couldn’t tell how long it had been going on. A second could have felt like an eternity as far as she was concerned.
And then ... it ebbed away, as if the wash of chaotic thoughts began to dry up, the flow stopped by something.
Her eyes barely caught sight of the pigtailed boy, holding her tightly, a dull blue glow surrounding them.
He had saved her, he was protecting her from the fury of the void, of Hell.
And that was it, her last thought. Her mind had been unable to deal with the reality of her situation anymore. And thus, she drifted to mental oblivion.
“She’s starting to come to.”
“What’s her status?”
“Some sort of mental attack really caused physical effects, it must have been like her mind was being struck. If I had to guess, I’d have to say it was a highly focused and very powerful genjutsu. She’s lucky to be alive.”
Genjutsu?
“What of the other one?”
Ranma?
“He’s suffering from extreme chakra depletion. We figure he’ll be awake in a few hours, maybe by tomorrow at the latest. But he won’t be moving around for a while.”
Chakra?
“She’s starting to come to.”
Nabiki slowly opened her eyes, their focus still slow, as she tried to take in what was around her. Her vision was still filled with a haze, as if she was in a smoke-filled room, or heavily drunk.
“How do you feel?” asked one voice to her right.
She turned, struggling to remain awake. But as much as she wanted to, her voice wouldn’t respond.
“She’s still too weak,” said another voice, apparently having noticed her attempts to communicate. “She needs more rest.”
“I agree,” said an old voice, though its location was beyond what she could either see or focus on at the moment. “Let her rest, but increase her checkups. We need to know about her and her companion as quickly as possible.”
“Yes, Hokage-sama,” said the voice on her right.
The elder voice slowly appeared before her, seeming to stand to the left of her bed now. “You’re friend is resting comfortably, and we’ll do what we can to help the both of you. Do you understand?”
She nodded weakly, before closing her eyes, the important questions answered for now. Ranma was alive and safe. She was safe, and that Hell was gone.
And she silently offered a prayer it wouldn’t come back.
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(Posted Mon, 01 Jan 2007 23:35)
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